Of Mine Enemy

chapter ten

                                                                                          One week later.

Something always barred her way. Swollen rivers, unwilling accomplices, run-ins with creatures more powerful than she. It was almost too good to be true that the crossing of the river and the entire journey to Basama was spent in casual conversation and the occasional snide remark. Not a thing harbored their passing; not Alex's tendency to sneak away in search of freedom, no shapeshifters taking an unwelcome chuck out of Saiorse's arm, nothing. Still, as they passed through the towering, spiral gates marking the beginning of the city, Saiorse had an uneasy feeling. Years had long passed since Saiorse had ventured so far north, but even so, it was not the place she remembered.

Fear touched every face they passed, bulging eyes behind concave cheeks peered at them as they passed. Saiorse was quite sure she and Alex looked as if they'd come from a different world. Unlike the villagers here, Saiorse and Alex hadn't a smudge of coal or smoke plastered to their cheeks. Conversations stopped and glares sliced through the back of her skull as she trotted their horses at a quick pace, so as to prevent someone from stopping them. They were drawing far too much attention.

Saiorse swiveled in her saddle, pinning a rather nervous Alexander with a desperate stare. Her voice was soft - he had to strain to catch what she was saying. "Where is your father? The sooner we find him the quicker we can leave. This does not seem like a place James LeRoy would occupy."

Alex drew a breath, speaking without looking Saiorse in the eye. "He must be closer to the middle of the city. I was not aware Basama was in this sort of condition."

Saiorse pursed her lips together, trusting his words. "Something is not right here, that is for sure."

Of course, a voice in Alexander's head said. Considering I lied.

Saiorse circled around the city, finding every part of it cornered by a towering obsidian gate. Guards glared at her from every thirty or so feet, their hands resting on their hilts as they eyed every potential target as they walked by, heads down, eyes focused on their feet as if they'd step on the false peace beneath their very heels. Saiorse met the guards' faces dauntlessly, her chin high, her shoulders square. No guardsmen would roll her to her back. Alex, meanwhile, followed Saiorse as closely as he could, his breath heaving in his chest.

She would not find his father here. Unless he was on an expedition with his comrades, he would be in Cecila - hundreds of miles south. It would take them weeks to travel there - and he'd already chewed away precious time. It wouldn't be long before his family would begin to wonder where Saiorse had gone. And if she spoke the truth of the terrible history between herself and his father's afflictions, well, he could only imagine what would occur if word branched out of his constant company of a certain scarred brunette. Alexander had made a mistake.

The guilt of his actions hadn't even surfaced to the front of his thoughts. Saiorse did not necessarily deserve to face death - or so he'd strangely began to think - but there was no way she could face his father's forces on her lonesome. The moment she discovered he'd led her on a wild goose chase was the second she would devote herself entirely to her cause. There would be no joking in a cabin, no more stolen smirks. The truth would ignite the struggles of her control and in them he would most likely find himself perished. He should have taken her to his father immediately. He would have killed her right then and there.

Nearing the end of the gates, Saiorse directed Richard away from the standing guards, kicking him into a swift canter, her eyes set on a cluster of shops not too far off their reach. The moment the horse's legs flexed and his hooves began a frantic tap over the broken cobblestone, the guards to their sides sheathed their swords, leaping in the pathway of Elia and Richard. The horses snorted angrily, stomping their feet as they were forced with glinting steel. The flash of their swords reflected off the brass decorating their obsidian uniforms.