The Book of Trials || ONC 2019

Chapter Nineteen

"There it is!" Evyne pressed her face up against the window and gave a short victory laugh.

"It's so... big." Lefeli had managed to calm herself some over the three days of traveling, but she was still so much fidgetier than she normally was and she always wanted to be on the opposite bench as Miss Mylda, claiming once when the woman had fallen asleep that she was afraid of her, though she hadn't mentioned why.

The city seemed to triple in size as we grew nearer to it, and before I knew what to think, we had come to a stop in front of an immaculate gate flourished with vibrant decorations and two large gargoyle statues that inspired the unsettling thought of not being quite all stone.

A short but impossibly intimidating guard scowled up at the carriage as he conversed with Jaren. Both of them motioned to us in the compartment—the guard as an accusation, Jaren as a calm but spirited explanation—then Jaren stepped up to the carriage respectfully and opened the door for the guard to inspect us. His short stature did nothing to inhibit his ability to peer into the compartment where the four of us sat.

His beady eyes first latched to Miss Mylda, who was trying halfheartedly to keep herself awake, then to Evyne, who met his gaze with a sort of challenge in her eyes, then to Lefeli, who shrank back with a delirious whimper. He paused for a moment. When he looked over to me, I felt as if my body had been stripped bare, open for him to see and to judge. His little black eyes narrowed at me, his gaze lingering, and I felt as if he could see everything—my parents' lifeless bodies, my tearstained cheeks as I sat alone in the orphanage, the fire that enveloped the walls around me as I escaped the same burning hallways years later. My deepest, darkest memories I had tucked away now resurfaced with a simple flick of his gaze and I felt paralyzed under his scrutiny.

Then he turned and tromped over to Atlas and Birdy and the heat of his black eyes retreated. I sighed shakily and watched as he harrumphed at the horse and nodded once to Jaren, returning to his post, then we were moving through the gate with another jerk of the carriage.

As we passed through the inside of the gate, intricate paintings and ancient runes jumped out in colors and patterns that glowed even in broad daylight. The inscriptions appeared to float off the wall as they passed overhead, but when I blinked they returned to their place as if they had never left. I felt a shiver run through me and an odd unsettling pushed at the base of my spine, then we entered the city in all its vastness and the muffled noise of people erupted into a cacophonous chatter and the roar of crowds.

Through the closed walls of the carriage, I couldn't understand individual voices, but the people themselves told enough of a story that I found myself entranced by the foreign acts of magic all around us. Bright shots of blue and silver fired into the sky from a magician we were passing, his clothes matching the brilliant colors he shot from his hands, one to the other, then up into the air. The crowd oohed and aahed at his display, then another more discreet magician caught my eye—a short, stout woman who sat in front of a glass ball on a green pillow. A tent adorned with golden stars surrounded her and a coy smile played across her lips as she conversed with the small crowd of people collected around her.

"Don't be fooled." Miss Mylda's crackly voice caught me off-guard as she peered solemnly out the window for the first time throughout the entire trip. "These are merely the showy magicians. They perform set acts to intimidate the masses, but their magic is mostly tricks and skits. Once we get farther into Azareba, these sideshows will cease in lieu of the real artists in the city. And once we're there"—her eyes caught mine and I stiffened at her prideful smirk—"I will finally be able to show you my life's work."

"That's right." Evyne rubbed her chin nonchalantly. "You did say you had a house here—"

"The Meeker House, yes."