Inkblots: A Tale of Magic, Adventure, and Romance

IX. Nighttime Mischief

That was when Alia began to run.

She dropped the stick mid-path, forgetting it entirely. Her feet pounded against the hard earth with a frantic terror that she knew was irrational, but still she sobbed in fear as she stumbled forward. The dark silhouettes of tree trunks blurred around her, closing in--and then at last there were the lantern lights in the distance, bouncing off the grey stone of the Librum's outer wall, and she slowed to a walk as she entered the familiar space.

Still crying weakly, Alia turned at the entrance to the Main Hall and slipped into her favorite garden. It was dark, and cold, and the daytime beauty of the place was entirely hidden, but at least the stone bench at its center was a place to sob without being overheard. Mami keeping secrets. Magic coming to pieces and no one to tell because they were locked away on 'urgent Librum business'--not that they'd listen anyway. She didn't know if she'd ever felt so wholly alone and excluded from the normal patterns of life. Everyone chose one--either a hard-working family life and a lover to warm your bed, or life at the Librum dedicated to the brotherhood and the studies. But Alia didn't want the first, and they wouldn't let her have the second.

Long moments later, the slim girl fell still at last, wiping her face on her overskirt and slumping with head in hands. Though her body didn't move except for the gentle movement of each breath in her chest, her mind raced frantically. How had no one else seen the magic coming apart? Or perhaps they had--maybe that was the purpose of the emergency meeting. A fresh wave of tears welled up in Alia's eyes at the thought that the Scribes might know all the answers, but no one was going to tell her, and a few slipped over wetly onto her reddened cheeks.

She sniffled, letting them fall, but then loud footsteps scuffed across the dirt nearby and she stiffened. The sound of male voices and laughter drifted toward her, coming closer, and Alia found herself sitting very still hoping that whoever it was wouldn't see her.

"A person!" someone boomed in excitement. "She can tell us, um, give us directions."

Two figures loomed toward her now, only a dozen feet away, and Alia frantically sniffled and wiped at her face, hoping the dim lantern light wasn't enough to reveal the tracks of her tears.

"Oh no, she's crying," the man said, sounding absolutely forlorn.

The smaller man, leaning heavily against his friend, stumbled and peered forward. "Oh noo. Do you think she'sh losht too?"

"Don't cry," said the larger man sadly. His voiced bounced against the wall behind her at an unnaturally loud volume, and Alia suddenly realized he was drunk. Both of them were drunk.

"What's wrong?" he asked, half-yelling, and he left his friend slumped against the wall before walking cautiously towards her. He bobbled a bit, but kneeled down before her steadily enough--and to her surprise, she recognized Caddock Strongarm, squinting at her in the dim light.

"Nothing," Alia said thickly. "Did you say you were lost?"

Caddock nodded, looking sad again.

"What are you looking for?" she asked curiously. At last, her voice began to steady

"The door," groaned the other man, yelling as though the volume was necessary to reach her from only a few strides away.

She stood up suddenly, edging around Caddock, and peered down at the other man. Kitrell--of course.

He kept yelling. "You're pretty and shad," he slurred. "Did you loosh the door too?"

"Door to what?" Alia looked around in confusion, hoping the marginally more clear-headed Caddock could answer her question, and when her gaze fell upon him he stood up and walked closer, stepping very carefully as though the ground was moving.