Alia spent the entirety of the next day working, avoiding her mother, and avoiding thinking about anything that had to do with Heroes, the Book, or magic. All classes had been cancelled, and word around the kitchens was that the Scribes were taking their meals in the closed off library.
While she sat in the courtyard and ate her lunch, the absurd image of the two drunken, staggering Heroes kept popping into her mind, but she tried not to laugh. It was disrespectful. When her cold slice of meat pie (she'd snagged it from the kitchens herself to avoid seeing her mother) was gone, she reached down to loosen the buckle of her shoe--and in appalled horror, realized that the sturdy leather shoes had been a solstice gift from her mother and were almost certainly a product of 'Bain Shoemaker.' After that it wasn't hard to avoid laughter. And of course, every time she thought of the magic twirling away out of her control, Alia thought she might vomit.
She was too afraid to try it again. Maybe it would be better if she just waited.
Who knows how long she might have gone on that way if something hadn't happened to snap her out of it. But just as her workshift was close to ending, footsteps and a giggle came down the corridor outside the chamber she worked in. Alia had been doing a very half-hearted job of dusting the shelves and desks, with most of her attention focused on listening for the bell that would end her shift, but at the sound of passersby she straightened up and got to work.
A head of blonde ringlets peeked around the corner. "Darine?" asked Alia, startled.
Darine grinned back at her with wild spark in her dark eyes and disappeared for a moment. "Right this way, sirs," Alia heard her say sweetly.
Darine walked in, followed by the smiling Caddock Strongarm and scowling, distant-looking Kitrell Silvertongue, and Alia jumped to attention. She was suddenly glad for the three rows of tables between her and the front of the room.
"Hello," blurted Alia, sitting her feather duster on a nearby chair. She couldn't make eye contact with either of the Heroes--every time she did, she saw their bloodshot eyes and stumbling gaits from last night. Heroes were supposed to have dignity. They were Heroes.
"Hi, um, your name is Alia, right?" Caddock kicked an awkward foot against the floor as he spoke, and Alia was suddenly startled to realize that for all his deep voice and large build, he couldn't be much older than she was--maybe 22 or 23 summers at the oldest.
"Yes, sir," she said, voice cracking unpleasantly.
"Oh, please don't call me Sir," he said. "I haven't gotten used to this whole Hero thing yet." Gesturing behind him, he added, "And that's just Kit. We aren't fancy."
'Just Kit' stared grimly out the window without even acknowledging what was happening in the room.
"Gosh, that's so nice of you to be so down-to-earth," gushed Darine. For some reason she was still standing there, batting her eyelashes at Caddock.
What happened to Bannick? thought Alia wryly. Of course, he's no Hero.
Apparently impervious to the awkward tension that filled the air, Caddock went on with a polite air. "Anyhow, Miss Alia, Kit and I just wanted to be sure that we came by and thanked you for last night. And apologized. Erh... You were very kind. If there's a favor we could do for you, we would be happy to."
Right. As if she was actually going to take them up on that when one half of "we" was still glaring and ignoring everyone.
"Forget about it," she said quickly, blushing under Darine's suddenly curious stare. "Anyone would have done the same for Heroes of the Book."
"Wouldn't lay money on it," Kitrell suddenly rasped. His voice was rougher than she remembered, and still he didn't look at anyone.
"Well, I don't need any favors, but thank you." She curtsied stiffly in their direction and felt foolish for doing it as soon as her knees bent. Now, of course, Kitrell Silvertongue decided to actually look at her, and he raised his eyebrows skeptically at her movement.
"If you're sure," Caddock said kindly, ducking his head in her direction and turning to leave.
She was sure. What sort of favor would one even ask from a Hero? It wasn't like there were any Wyrms lurking around in the Librum basement.
Oh, but there is... "Wait!" she called. Her voice bounced loudly off the stone walls and Kitrell Silvertongue clapped his hands over his ears and spun around with a nasty glare.
"Parchment and ink, girl--you don't have to yell," he said, going from harsh to weak sounding in the space of a few words.
"Sorry!" she said, startled at his aggressive reaction. "It's just, I thought of something."
Everyone stared at her, waiting. Alia looked uncomfortably at Darine, trying to figure out how much she could say in front of her friend. The plump blonde showed absolutely no sign of leaving. In fact, she was staring raptly like she'd never seen a scene so interesting.
"Just a conversation," said Alia, looking at the two men who stood before her. "I just want to talk to you about a few things--Book things," she added hurriedly when Kitrell gave her an odd look. "I'd only need you for one, maybe two bells. If class is still cancelled, could you just meet me near the Book chamber? At the midday bell? If you're not busy, I mean."
She was embarrassed to realize she had taken on an authoritative tone, as though she--a serving girl--was going to order around two Heroes. Thankfully, they just nodded and made their farewells before Darine followed them off, smiling adoringly.
Alia sat down heavily in the nearest chair as soon as they were gone. Absentmindedly, her shaking hands grasped one another to still the adrenalized movement. "Gods," she whispered. "What have you gotten into?"
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When Alia woke the next morning in the cold, dim grey light of her small bedroom, for a moment she was entirely certain that everything was going to go back to normal. Some unshakeable feeling reassured her that she'd join Master Calimbar and the other students for another boring episode of Legend of the First Scribe--he'd told them after the last class that it would be cancelled through the fiveday, but whatever had gone wrong must be fixed by now. Surely she'd walk through the familiar stone halls of the Librum, and the Heroes would be distant and shining and admirable, and the Scribes would be bustling around glaring suspiciously at the students, and her mother would be her friendly, open, honest self in the kitchens.
Still, Alia put on her nice dress, just in case she was still meeting with Caddock Strongarm and Kitrell Silvertongue--and when she stepped out, the halls were still unnaturally quiet, and the office doors had no light shining from beneath them. Most of the pupils had gone home to their families, taking advantage of the unexpected holiday, so they weren't even any boys strolling about, elbowing one another and whispering dirty jokes. Well, maybe that last part wasn't so bad--but it was still unsettling.
She slipped into the kitchens, hoping to grab whatever was available and leave quickly, but her mother's warm voice stopped her in her tracks.
"Li Li! There you are, darling. My daughter's been so busy she can't even see her old mother, I guess."
She stiffened, turning awkwardly and not knowing how to look at her mother--but it was her Mami, and she had the same comforting smile as always and the same flour-dusted apron, and the same cozy smell of yeast and vanilla and baked treats. Without making a conscious decision, she sank into her mother's comforting hug.
"Hi," she said into the cloth of her dress, feeling like a little girl again.
Her mother stepped back, hands still on Alia's shoulders and clear eyes clouding with concern. "Are you all right?"
Alia nodded with a lump in her throat. "Yes, just a rough week." She couldn't bring herself to say anything about her discovery the other night, and the Heroes and the Book were off-limits topics with anyone.
"Come get a cinnamon bun, then, little dove," said the older woman, dropping a kiss on her daughter's hair.
Alia nodded obediently and followed her mother back to her corner of the kitchen. "Thanks," she said, voice muffled through a bite of the delicious pastry.
"Any better?" asked her mother.
Alia laughed. "Maybe a little bit." Swallowing another bite, she added, "I better be on my way now."
Merle nodded. "All right. I miss you, you know."
"I miss you too, Mami. But I'll see you tomorrow night for dinner as usual." Suddenly, before her bravery could run out, Alia added, "and you should bring Bain Shoemaker. I'd like to meet him."
Her mother's eyes widened and she suddenly flushed a girlish shade of pink. Alia looked around uncomfortably, taken aback by this youthful display of emotion and embarrassed by the way her mother's mouth was working soundlessly.
"I--I-- I might be able to do that. The neighbors could watch his girls."
His girls. So he had children. Alia tried very hard not to be jealous at the thought of her Mami mothering other children. She smiled at her mother. "Good. See you tomorrow, then," she called, fleeing the kitchen.
The halls seemed like a much more cheerful place now, mellow and serene instead of desolate and depressing. Alia walked about aimlessly for a few minutes, unsure of what to do with her unexpected freedom. Coming around a corner, she heard female voices from a chamber to the left. One of them was almost certainly Darine, and Alia peeked her head in to say hello.
Sure enough, the plump blonde was laughing as she wiped down a chalkboard, accompanied by a younger girl. The other girl was one of the newest staff members, only 12 or 13 summers, and Alia couldn't remember her name.
"Alia!" called Darine, jumping down from the chair she stood on. She turned to the other girl bossily and said, "Gellie, you keep working on that. I'll be back shortly."
Poor Gellie just nodded, looking intimidated, and Alia had to try not to visibly roll her eyes. Darine grabbed her arms, brown skirts swishing as she tugged Aia outside and around a corner.
"So you're meeting with the Heroes!" she said, rushing it out in one breath.
Alia didn't know what to say. "Um, only for a little."
"I see you wore your nice dress," said the other girl in a teasing tone, tugging at Alia's gray overskirt.
Warmth crept across Alia's cheeks. "It's just for studying. I'll probably never get another chance to ask actual Heroes of the Book about their Story."
Darine didn't say anything, but mischief twinkled in her eyes. "So, can I come?" she asked after a pause.
Taken aback, Alia looked around as thought trying to find a route of escape. There was none, of course. "Darine... I'm sorry, but it's just a Librum thing. Like a student thing." She felt awkward trying to explain it, but her friend didn't seem phased.
"Right, I thought you'd want to keep them all to yourself," she said teasingly. She tugged at her characteristic bun, loosening its grip on her unruly hair, and smiled a dreamy smile. "Especially that Caddock Strongarm. You see how sturdy-built that man is? And he's sweet. No Gavin Heartstrike, but then he's already spoken for."
Alia gaped.
"I know, I know," Darine continued, laughing. "It's not like I've actually got my heart set on a Hero. I know they wouldn't go for a girl like me."
Darine went on and on and on until Alia gratefully noticed that she was just about due to meet the Heroes. She made her escape and walked toward the center chamber of the Librum slowly, savoring the blessed silence at last.
When she came around the corner, she could see two male figures before the chamber door and knew they had beaten her there. Alia wiped sweaty palms against her skirt, took a deep breath, and strode toward the two Heroes of the Book.
"Hello," she said shyly as she got within speaking distance. "Thanks for meeting me." The two men made the appropriate polite responses, and Alia glanced all around the hallway quickly. With no one in sight, she tugged the outer door open and slipped inside.
"Come on!" she said urgently.
As soon as they had followed her in, she gently shut the door and turned to face them. Caddock's open, friendly face was twisted into a bemused look, and Kitrell looked downright suspicious.
"Thanks," she said again nervously. "I just want to--to go over the Story with you. And just ask a few academic questions."
Alia spun, reaching toward the door to the inner chamber, but Kitrell's voice cut across the room.
"I don't think so. Why does a Librum servant have such urgent academic questions about the Story? Why are you being so furtive? I think we deserve some answers."
Her heart began to thud at a sickeningly fast pace. "Um-- I-- I can explain if you'll just come into the Book chamber." There was too great a chance of being overheard by passersby here in the outer chamber. She reached blindly toward the window door, sketching out the sigil shakily, but nothing happened.
Kitrell waited, arms crossed, and Caddock just stood there, still looking confused.
"Sorry," muttered Alia weakly. She turned to fully face the door, trying not to panic, and carefully drew the sigil, giving it her full attention even though her breathing was fast and shaky with fear.
To Alia's horror, the sigil flared blue, but writhed to pieces. A choked gasp burned her throat and, before she even knew it was happening, a raw sob pushed at her lips and hot tears filled her eyes. Finally, the door swung weakly open, the movement less smooth than usual, but it was too late. Alia was already crying messily.