Inkblots: A Tale of Magic, Adventure, and Romance

XLI. Ornassus

Hey all! Update after an EXTREMELY (extremely, extremely) long hiatus, so you'd probably benefit from a review anyway, but before you read this chapter, you will want to go back and reread the last one (unless you read it in the last few weeks)! I've reorganized the way the two were divided and added material, so otherwise you'll be very confused! Thanks for sticking around if you're still here! xxx

As it turned out, the  captain and crew were accurate about the time. The sun was still a small  distance from its apex when Alia, a groggy Kit, and an unnamed sailor were  lowered down to the water in a rowboat. She clutched nervously at her  pack as the boat hit the water and tried not to stare at the Scypian harbor before them. It had blossomed up out of the distant horizon all at once and only continued to grow.

Put simply, it was huge.  The harbor at Rijo-Bel would have fit here three times over. Ships of  all shapes and sizes--thirty, maybe forty, but Alia lost count-- bobbed and dipped alongside an intricate maze of white stone ramps. The dingy green of the water looked dirty in comparison to the fresh, bright blue of the open ocean, but it was overshadowed by the pale, rectangular  pillars that shot up at all sides, topped with colorful flags.

This was awe-inducing on  its own, but behind the low seawall was the city. More pale stone zig-zagged its way up in angular tiers, with each house and each doorway stacked in over or around another. The intricate stonework might have held her attention for hours--if it hadn't been overshadowed by the  colossal edifice that stood behind it all. A giant stone pyramid, tiered  like it was a set of stairs for giants, rose up behind the small  houses, gleaming in the light. It was enormous.

With every stroke of the  paddles, her pulse sped up another beat. Kit was perched at the bow,  chatting easily as he grew more alert and looking at the city before them. She realized  suddenly that she didn't know its name. A warm, spring-like wind was  gusting at them from the shore, carrying the smells of dust and spices,  and Alia understood the phrase "the winds of change."

Each gust pulled a  little of her old self out, trailing it behind them with the must of  lanolin and Beldaran worries. Here it didn't matter if she was a  citizen. Here, no one would know who Alia the bastard, Alia the quiet  scholar, was. She might be as fierce and daring as Mirabelle. No. She tensed her jaw, raising it into the wind. She would be fiercer, but kind.

Gods take it, she'd bed  Kit. She'd weave another sigil and lead the way back to Beldara with  their salvation in her hands, and she would never, never be shy again.

She undid her cloak's  ties with firm, steady fingers, and then loosened the laces at the neck  of her shift. Daringly, she pulled the grimy long sleeves downward,  letting them hang off her shoulders, with only the overdress holding it  up. The sunlight felt smooth and sweet, like honey on her skin.

"That Scypian weather, eh?" called the rowing sailor, winking boldly at her.

Alia flushed but nodded.  "It's lovely!" she called back. Kit never turned around, but she sat content anyway, thinking of a quiet inn, a hot bath, and the courage to say what she was thinking. Her lips kept curving into a secret smile at the thought of his probable surprise.

Then they were bumping against one of those white ramps, with wooden ships rising up on every side, and Kit was leaping out of the boat with a nimble movement that nearly capsized them.

The sailor helped Alia  keep her balance when she did the same, though his hand may have  lingered a while on her bare shoulder. She smiled thinly, trying to be  polite, but stepped away quickly.

"Well," said Kit,  flinging out his right hand. The movement was triumphant, but there was  reserve in his voice. "I give you Ornassus, the crown jewel of Scypia."