As she munched slowly on some flatbread and dried meat, Alia thought about the Book and her unspoken theory. With the emotional clarity that came after crying, she was able to think more academically than she had in a while. Had Kit revealed his pain about killing the water spirit? Would that be enough to undermine the magic somehow?
"Kit," she said bravely, "I had just one more question."
He stiffened.
"It's important, I promise," she added softly. "I'm trying to help."
"I know," he said curtly, brushing crumbs off his dusty trousers. "Don't condescend to me."
She took a deep breath, ignoring his sharp words, and went on. "When you narrated your Story, did you tell them about the... the girl?"
Kit's dark eyes tightened painfully, shadowed by his browbone, but he answered calmly. "I did. But clearly the others saw things differently, since little of my perspective made it into the Story."
She nodded once and kept eating, as though she had no thoughts on the subject. Kit hadn't lied—at least about the girl. So there was no easy answer to the question of the magic's failure, then. And if he thought she was being condescending, he could bite his tongue. If anyone was being condescended to it was her.
A strong desire to throw a fuss came over her. She was basically the expert here. Alia was well accustomed to logic problems from her classes at the Librum—while no one else on this trip had any training. In any problem that required solving, there were relevant circumstances and conditions. She just had to identify them here and figure out which one was the problem. It was no different than a mental exercise for her, really—except that Beldara hung in the balance and an entire team of Scribes couldn't solve it.
She sighed. Maybe it was time to think about something else for a little while.
Her companion eased up as they walked further. Maybe it was the fact that they must soon be reaching their destination, or maybe it was because she hadn't asked any more questions. Either way, it was a relief to have his charming facade back up. Alia regretted every thought she'd ever had wanting Kit to stop trying so hard to be charming. Joking Kit was much, much better than mean Kit—even if it was a lie. I'm just going to leave it be and keep walking, she vowed.
But Alia was far better at making resolutions than keeping them.
Walking was incredibly boring without any companions other than the reticent grouch who led the way in front of her. Anything that had seemed beautiful in the desert now seemed repetitive. She couldn't even remember why she'd volunteered to go with Kit instead of staying with Darine and Caddock. Instead, she'd left poor Caddock alone and vulnerable, with no one to distract Darine from mooning over him. As the ground skimmed along below her feet, she reached down moodily to pick up an interesting looking rock. It was faintly sparkly and greenish gray. Pretty. She tossed it in the air a few times before malevolently eyeing the back of Kit's head.
Be good, said her Mami's voice in the back of her head. Alia sighed and threw the rock to the side instead of at Kit.
"What now?" he asked, turning to roll his eyes at her.
"What?" Alia widened her eyes.
"Oh, come on," he said. "Bakhar and the others probably heard that sigh." He gestured vaguely at the horizon with a dusty hand.
Another angry sigh slipped out without Alia's consent, puffing from her nostrils. Kit smugly raised his eyebrows.
"Nothing," she said pointedly. Chin held high, she stomped past him and onward in the direction they'd been going.
"Suit yourself."
The temptation to pick up another rock grew even stronger, but instead Alia squinted off at the horizon, looking for any kind of landmark. Was that a—
"Kit?"
"What?" He sounded amused, maybe—or maybe that was stress tightening his voice.
"What's off over there?" She gestured at the gray shape that stuck up over the horizon to the left.
The lithe Hero came to stand by her side, squinting off in the distance. Rubbing at an eyebrow thoughtfully, he said, "Hm."
"Hm?"
"Probably the cavern," he said. "We'll need to go check it out."
"But I thought we weren't supposed to get off course," she said nervously.
Mean Kit reemerged quickly. "Well, yes, but we have to take the odds! Gods, Alia, you have no idea what happens if we miss our mark. We pass the cavern without realizing, we die in the desert alone." His tone was cutting.
"But didn't you and Mirabelle wander the desert for days without a problem?" As soon as she'd spoken, Alia wanted to take it back.
His shoulders went dangerously tense, and Kit turned to glare down his nose at her like a predator. He spat something in a language she didn't recognize—but she was fairly certain the phrase was some sort of oath. "We had more supplies, easier access to water, and at least then I wasn't at any risk of dying of boredom."
What by the unnamed gods did that mean?! Alia gasped in shocked offense, traitorous eyes prickling.
"Well I'm so sorry to have inconvenienced you," she blurted. The only thing she could think of was getting away from that— that bastard and to some other, kinder people. But you're the bastard, technically, said her mind. She stomped faster toward the horizon, risk of sprained ankles forgotten.
By some small blessing of the gods, the closer the gray lump got the more it looked like the entrance to a cavern. Kit kept pace alongside her, but neither of them so much as looked at one another until they were within a few hundred strides of the place.
"Wait here," Kit said curtly, putting out a hand as though to halt her.
She gritted her teeth and complied.
The inscrutable man stepped forward slowly and called out some sort of greeting in the guttural language of the tribespeople. Two shrouded figures appeared quickly, loping forward from the mouth of the cave and calling something back.
Shifting on her sore feet, Alia tried to make out what they might be talking about. A few things sounded almost—almost—like phrases in Common, but they probably weren't. After an indeterminable wait, marked only by the drop of sweat that was slowly sliding between her shoulder blades, Kit finally turned and motioned her toward them.
With some trepidation, Alia plodded forward, plastering a polite smile on her face. The tribespeople stood right at the dark lip of a cavern, half-hidden in the black shadows cast by a rocky overhang. Again, as she got close she realized that the two men looked just like any other Beldaran males, save for their loose-fitting garb.
Speaking in the tribal language, Kit gestured at her and said "Alia." She couldn't make herself look at him, but did manage a polite nod to the two men.
"Wel-come," one said, his voice heavily accented and much harder to understand than Bakhar's had been. Alia looked up to meet his eyes, noting that he was certainly taller than Kit, and smiled.
"Thank you," she murmured. Unable to summon up any more energy, she stepped to the side and watched Kit continue talking. He looked so self-assured and friendly, with an open stance and a genial smile on his face. Pain crossed her face as she realized that Kit was only mad at her. Then the men were stepping aside and gesturing into the cavern.
Kit led the way into the dim shadows, chatting with one of the men. Alia stumbled along, feeling forgotten and struggling to make her eyes adjust. Cool air drifted up from somewhere ahead, raising the hairs on her arm, and she smelled the distinctive mossy scent of moisture. The man who had welcomed her appeared at her side, a gray shadow in the darkness. Something in his gear clinked, echoing through the space ahead of them, and Alia knew then that there was far more open space than she could see.
"Careful," he said in that thick accent. "It is down. Steep."
Ahead, Kit and the other man crouched and then began to descend through an invisible hole. Rocks rattled and shifted against one another, echoing around the cavern entrance, and an exhilarating realization shot through Alia. This was where the Heroes had emerged from the cave! A frisson tingled at her skin as she pictured Mirabelle, lifted on the shoulders of her companions, emerging through that opening. But then the unwelcome memory of the same woman's threat in a dark hay barn intruded and the girl wrinkled her nose. It was better to merely focus on the physical aspect of the descent. After all, the rocks were unsteady and sharp under her worn feet. As she worked her way downward, turning to look up at the tribesman who waited to enter, Alia took the risk of holding the wall one handed just so her other hand could catch at her skirt. All she needed was for those below to accidentally see something better left hidden.
Unseen hands grabbed her hips firmly, and Alia tensed up in alarm. Before she could ask who it was, Kit spoke.
"Relax. It's a big gap. I'm trying to help." He sounded vaguely irritated.
She gritted her teeth and let him lower her down. Big gap may have been an overstatement—barely a blink passed before her feet were firmly against the ground. Though she'd expected darkness, the stony wall in front of her was gray under a diffuse light.
The hands left her waist and she spun to see Kit already walking away, still talking to their companion. A broad cavern stretched beyond him, with a few children playing in a tinkling stream and women sitting in front of leather shelters, talking around fires. Alia paused, taking it all in while the man behind her lowered himself through the cleft in the rocks. Odors of smoke and moss and stone were near-overwhelming to her nose, which had been so long understimulated in the empty desert. The light was an odd mix of golden orange from the fires and coldly clear—she noticed that high above, the cavern roof had a few holes that shot beams of sunlight down.
Gods, it was like a whole underground village. And just like in Eastgate, Kit wasn't waiting to show her around.
Alia shifted uneasily from foot to foot, torn between following after Kit, who'd walked away without another word, or waiting for her companion, who was just dropping lightly to the ground. The man had a cat-like grace, and she realized suddenly that she didn't know his name.
That decided her. "I'm sorry," she said, turning and pushing a hand against her tired neck. "I didn't ask. What is your name?"
"I am Adir," he said in that stilted, careful way.
She nodded, trying to be gracious, though the movement looked more tired than anything else. Adir gestured toward the figures of Kit and companion, quickly retreating into the darkness. Grateful that she hadn't had to choose after all, Alia stretched her legs and tried to gain ground on the Hero.
They wove their way around fire after fire, facing curious stares from the small groups of women and younger men who sat eating and doing small work tasks. Alia's stomach growled hungrily at the savory scents that rose from many cookpots, and she made a note to ask Adir or Kit about food soon. As they passed a small group of chattering children, a young boy ran up from the side, stumbling and nearly falling over a rock. He stared at Alia with wide blue eyes for a moment before turning to tug on Adir's robes.
"Pati?" he asked softly. It was the child's version of a whisper, and Alia smiled to hear it.
Crouching, Alia's guide looked up at her with a warm grin. "He is my son," he said. "Very curious about visitors."
This drew a real smile out of Alia, who was glad to see familial relations similar to those she'd grown up with. Not that she'd had a father at home, but the actions were familiar. Still, though, Adir was bent down, distracted by his son, and Kit was getting further and further out of sight. Adir took the boy by the shoulders and said a few guttural words. When the child hung his head, he tapped him on the chin with a finger and smiled, speaking more gently. Instead of being comforted, though, the boy started to wail loudly.
Alia glanced at her departing companion and then back to Adir. "Adir, thank you," she said quickly. "Tend to your son. I'll just follow Kit." Before the man could protest, she spun around and took off after the Hero at a quick jog. She couldn't shake a fierce determination that the infuriating man not be allowed to escape, even for a moment.
Mindless of the curious eyes that followed, she ducked quickly after Kit, trying not to trip on any small bundles of belongings or step in someone's lunch. He and his companion had turned past an outcropping, so she could no longer see the two men, but voices and firelight bounced against the wall. She was expecting elders, perhaps, or some kind of welcoming party—but when she came around the corner standing brave and tall, what she found was a group of young people. They were all laughing raucously as Kit joined them, and one stood to pass him a bowl of something that flashed like liquid.
None of them had noticed Alia yet, and she paused, suddenly uncertain. There were men and women around the fire, but all of them had the same lithe—almost dangerous—look that Kit had, and they all wore loose trousers and shirts that revealed sun-bronzed skin. There were no silly dresses dragging at ankles here. It was hardly an official gathering, and yet surely Kit had been in such a hurry to learn more about the magic.
Deep breath. Filling her chest up tight, she walked carefully up and tapped at Kit's shoulder.
"Kit?" Her voice sounded so hushed and solemn compared to the laughter all around.
The Hero spun in surprise, framed by a few curious stares.
"Alia, what are you doing?" he asked in a low, irritated voice.
"Um, I—"
"Why are you even over here? Adir was supposed to take you to the women."
"There are women here," she said, growing irritation stabilizing her nervous voice. "What are you doing?"
He rolled his eyes. "Just taking a break. We're in no hurry now that we're here."
Well, maybe he wasn't in a hurry, but she wanted answers. Now.
"Kit," said another young man, leaning over and interrupting their tete-a-tete. "Your toss? The girl, will she play?" He held out a palmful of painted stones, and Alia leaned forward, curious.
The golden-haired Hero laughed. "Oh no," he said. "She will not be playing. She was just leaving."
Alia's mouth flew open, prepared to speak for herself, but Kit turned and grabbed her by the elbow. His grip wasn't exactly rough, but neither would she have called it gentle. "I'll take you to Adir's wife, as we intended. I'm sure she can help you clean up and find clothing.'
This time her jaw dropped without the propellant of any words. Kit led her away and she walked without resistance, still processing the insult. "Do you mean— Am I— Are you saying I'm unclean?" She winced at her own squeakiness as the question finally came out.
A laugh burst out of Kit, somewhere between a guffaw and a chuckle. "Oh Gods," he said. "Alia, you were the one who's been talking constantly about wanting hot water and clean clothing."
Well... She had to concede that this was true. Her hair and skin were past grimy and headed towards filthy. But still—some strong conviction in her said that if he was waiting to bathe, she could too. Was he being helpful, or trying to get rid of her? Alia sighed. Does it even matter? Either way, they had already left Kit's little fire-gathering and now he was waving to Adir. Suddenly conscious of his callused hand on her arm, she shook him off and strode to meet Adir on her own.
"I'm sorry," she said, trying to be pleasant, "I thought we were headed the same way as Kit. I suppose I need you to guide me after all."
Adir laughed. "Of course," he said. "I am told you desire a bathing. My wife can show you the pools and find you some clothing. I should have spoke my plan before."
This time, when he walked ahead, Alia followed patiently—but her mind raced as she took in Kit's rude dismissal and the ambiance of the cavern. It occurred to her that each step she took might duplicate one taken by the four Beldaran Heroes. Somehow, it wasn't so hard to picture being alone and trying to escape the rocky walls, even though there were people all around.
Is that amazing artwork by Guy Laramee the perfect picture to go with this, or what?