She was almost to the cottage when the thumping of running footsteps echoed up the path behind her. The sound broke the monotony of her grief-hazed walk, and Alia spun around almost out of instinct to see who it was. She expected a child, maybe, or perhaps her mother running up to comfort her—but instead she found Caddock jogging along, out of breath and carrying a woman's cloak, of all things.
"Caddock?" she asked stupidly. Of Course she knew it was him, but she wasn't sure why he was there.
"Alia," he said, pausing for a moment to catch his breath and then holding out the cloak. "Kit said you need to put this on right now."
"But it isn't mine."
"He said it was important, Alia. You have to put the cloak on and come with me." Caddock looked very earnest, but Alia had no idea why he was bothering her with things right then, right when her whole world had just come crashing to pieces.
"Why?" She tried to inflect curiosity into her voice, but only mild irritation came out.
"Look, Alia, just put it on and pull the hood up. Kit said that people might be coming after you."
He held the cloak out again, and she put it on obediently, trying not to cringe at the odd smell that came off the wool. It didn't smell bad, but it didn't smell like hers either.
"Where did you get the cloak?"
"Kit had it; I don't know."
Caddock started walking then, headed away from her mother's cottage. "Where are we going?" Alia asked. They'd said she had a fiveday, but somehow it seemed imperative that she start packing up her few small belongings right now. Gods, what was she going to do? Her Mami would come with, surely. She couldn't go to a new land alone—but how could she ask her mother to leave her life behind?
"To Kit," he said, irritatingly.
"But where is Kit?"
"At the forest's edge behind the Librum."
Alia lost it. "Gods, Caddock, I don't know what you two are playing at, but frankly right now I don't care that you're Heroes or that Kit has some fancy plan. I need to worry about my own life." Surprisingly, she managed to say it without crying, but her voice shook perilously.
Caddock kept walking, looking upset, and Alia kept following him even though she didn't want to.
"Look, will you just talk to Kit?" he said finally, looking like he was struggling to express himself. "He's better at explaining things than I am. All I know is he said to make sure you put the cloak on and then to bring you to him."
Alia sighed, but stopped protesting. She didn't understand what secret plan could possibly be so important that they had to worry about people following her, but surely this had something to do with the Heroes' plan to find out where the Story had gone wrong. Did she even still want to go? There was no Book left to check the Story against. Did it matter if they could find the problem now? It was too late for the Book. But maybe the Council would allow her back in if she could prove it wasn't her fault.
Silently, she followed Caddock's quick, heavy steps up nearly to the double-gate of the Librum and then off to the left on a faint path. Kit stood against the fence, leaning casually with arms crossed, but he stood up when he saw them and came forward to meet them.
"Good, you're wearing the cloak," he said, looking serious.
Alia reached to take the hood off, but Kit held up a hand. "No, leave it on." He looked distant, almost cold, even, and his dark eyes scanned the empty land around them like he was looking for something. Not seeing whatever he was looking for, the stout man reached to the ground and picked up a pack that Alia hadn't seen before.
"What are we doing?" she asked, alarmed by the appearance of a pack that looked ready for days of travel.
"I'll explain while we walk," he said. "Caddock, you know the plan, right? You'll need to stay through tomorrow morning at the very least, and then come up with some sort of innocent excuse. Tell them you're visiting your family or something. We'll make camp at the caves out the eastern road."
"What?!" asked Alia. "Parchment and ink, someone better tell me what's going on! Why would we be leaving on such short notice? I have to pack! I don't understand what sort of game we're playing at here, but I sincerely doubt that someone cares enough about it to follow me. And did you steal this cloak?"
Kit was looking at her in horrified shock, like he'd just stepped in something especially nasty. "By the unnamed Gods," he said, "are you an idiot?" He shoved his hand through the tangle of blond hair atop his head and clenched his jaw angrily. "What we're doing, you little fool, is saving your ass from the mob of furious townspeople that's about to come down on you at any minute. We're not playing spy games; we're saving your life."
Alia deflated like a sail that'd lost the wind. "What?" she asked again, this time weakly.
He looked away, as though he couldn't possibly stand to look at her, and then glared back. "You really didn't think it through?"
"Think what through?" Her voice was very small.
"No more magic, right?"
She nodded reluctantly. That's what the Head Scribe had said, but it was hard to imagine it actually being true.
"And what do you use magic for? Even just in the Librum?"
She thought for a moment silently, sensing that he didn't really want an answer. Tending the gardens, the cutting boards, the ovens, heating the laundry water, drying the laundry, locking the doors, recording the births and deaths... "Everything," she said.
"Everything," he repeated. "Beldara uses magic for everything. This kingdom is about to come apart into a million tiny pieces, and the Head Scribe just handed them your head on a platter. The people were already beginning to riot when I made it out of the Commons. It won't be long before they come after you—they might already be looking."
Alia wanted to protest this—even if she wasn't popular, she'd grown up here and she knew the people. They weren't violent. But Kit looked very, very serious, and something kept her from questioning him.
"Caddock, go," said Kit when she didn't respond. "The last thing we need is for them to start questioning our connection to things the same way she did."
With a mournful-looking glance, Caddock turned and trudged off back toward the gates. Alia was left standing awkwardly next to the golden-haired Hero, who was looking less than friendly. She resisted the urge to call Caddock back, though his presence was certainly more welcoming than that of the man before her.
They stood there awkwardly for a moment, Alia feeling helpless with her hands at her sides while Kit tightened up the buckles on the pack. "Come on," he said. "We need to get moving so we can make some distance before dark."
Somehow it hadn't actually clicked yet that he meant for them to leave. Alia just stood there watching the dead grass blow gently in the breeze, trying to process what this meant. "Where are we going to go?" she asked. Her mind raced with a million questions: who was going to tell her mother? What about her things? Why did Kit care about helping? But externally, she maintained a curious serenity. Maybe it was just shock.
"To the East," he said. "We might as well actually retrace the path we took in the Story. Two birds with one stone and such." Without looking at her, he shouldered the pack and strode toward the forest.
"Why are we going this way?" she asked—and then, before he had a chance to answer, "and why are you helping?"
He didn't answer. "Kit?" she asked quietly. Somehow it felt awkwardly intimate to shorten his name now, when there were just the two of them. Still, he didn't answer. "Silvertongue!" she said in a more insistent tone, wanting a response.
He stopped abruptly, spinning around on the ball of one foot. "Do not," he gritted out between clenched teeth, "call me that. Ever. And stop asking so many questions."
Alia fell into a scared silence, and they kept walking. The trees and underbrush were thick here, and it took almost all of her concentration to keep from stumbling over exposed rocks and roots, and to keep her skirt from getting caught up in things. Kit strode forward at a fast pace, and he never stopped to look back; she was afraid if she fell behind he wouldn't even notice.
She'd been into the edges of the forest before, mostly to gather spring berries as a child helping in the kitchens, but it had seemed a far more welcoming place then. Now the trees had begun to lose their leaves, and under a gray sky, the path they forged was dark and bleak. Alia wondered if there might actually be a mob of angry Beldarans chasing after them. It seemed so incredibly unlikely, but still, the thought made her worry that their footsteps crunching against the dead leaves were too loud and obvious.
Not long after leaving, Alia's stomach started to grumble. She held off for as long as possible before saying something, but finally she stepped up her pace to get alongside Kit and spoke. "Sorry," she said quietly, "but is there anything to eat?"
He didn't look up from his feet until she spoke, focused on picking his way around the underbrush. When Kit finally met her gaze, he looked distant and irritated, and Alia found herself fighting tears. "Sorry, but I didn't have a chance to eat before they—" she had to take a deep breath so her voice wouldn't wobble "—before they took me to the Council."
His expression might have softened marginally, but she wasn't sure. Without saying anything else, he stopped and dropped the pack at his feet. "Here." He handed her a small chunk of dried meat, and Alia began to gnaw on it gratefully. After a moment, he pulled a canteen from the pack and held that out as well. "You'll need to drink some water, too."
She nodded and complied before stuffing the rest of the strip of meat in her mouth and handing him back the water. Without another word, he reshouldered the pack and they were back on their way.
None of it felt real until the forest began to thin, and suddenly they popped out at a road.
Alia glanced around, half-expecting to recognize something, but of course she didn't. She'd never really left Beldara, and they'd been walking for one or two bells now. Somehow, that unfamiliar road made it all come crashing down. They were leaving Beldara. She was leaving for good. A few tears sneaked out, but she managed to stay silent, hoping Kit wouldn't notice her weakness.
Walking was much easier on the road, and Kit picked up the pace. She finally managed to stop crying after a little while, and soon after, Kit stopped again and handed her the water. "You can probably take the hood down now, if you'd like," he said. Alia was sure he'd noticed her red nose and blotchy face, but he didn't say anything.
Farmhouses were scattered around off the road, sometimes in groups of two or three, but it all seemed desolate compared to Beldara main. Alia felt lonely and exposed out among the rolling hills with no buildings to hem them in. When the overcast sky released a light, misty rain, she didn't even sigh. It suited her mood, somehow, even if it was wet and cold, and now she was especially glad for the cloak. She wondered again if it was stolen, but didn't want to provoke Kit by asking.
They walked on, passing over two more small hills before it began to rain in earnest. At first, the pattering sound it made against the hardpacked earth around their feet was soothing, but soon enough it was just cold. Kit sighed and looked up at the sky, squinting against the water drops. "Bollocks," he muttered, and then louder, "this isn't going to let off any time soon. We'll need to find a place to take cover."
Alia didn't have anything to offer, so she just nodded, and on they walked. Her mind felt totally empty, blank and gray and washed clean like the sky. For long stretches of time, she forgot everything that had happened, everything except the pattern of her feet against the dirt road, but then it would all come crashing back down and her breathing would grow tight for a few moments.
As they came over another hill, Kit glanced off the side of the road to a barn, and more distantly, the farmhouse that went with it. "Come on," he said. "This'll do as long as they don't have dogs."
If they did, the animals were hiding somewhere warm and dry, and Alia followed Kit across the lumpy, barren field without incident. The barn door swung open with a small creak, and then Kit slipped inside into the dark interior. Alia followed, feeling very uncomfortable but not knowing what else to do. The warmer, drier air was a relief, but she wrinkled her nose at the musky smell inside. It smelled like the Librum stables, and she realized she was probably smelling hay.
Still standing just inside the doorway, Alia whispered toward Kit's shadowy outline. "Are there animals in here?"
"No," he said back in a normal voice. "Too small. Looks like just a hay barn."
"Oh." She tried to use a normal voice, but couldn't force the volume up over a hushed murmur. "Do you think they'd mind us being here?"
She heard a small snort from Kit, but he sounded mostly serious when he answered. "They might, but I doubt they'll come looking in this storm. I've done this kind of thing many times without trouble."
Alia shivered slightly, still chilled from the rain. "Do you think we could light a fire?"
"Wouldn't recommend it in a hay barn," he said shortly. "And no more magic, remember?"
Oh. She had forgotten. She watched Kit's silhouette move away from the door and over to a heap of something—probably hay—before sitting down. "Warmer away from the door," he said.
Alia followed his example, moving forward until her hands reached a pile of something stiff and crunchy. Hay. She turned around, awkwardly reclining in the pile of grass. It was incredibly poky, but warm, and after a while it stopped being so noticeable.
A strange whuffly noise drifted over to her ears, and she sat up in fear. It came again, softer, and suddenly it made sense. Snoring. Kit was snoring. Any other time, Alia would have found that amusing, to be sitting in a hay barn listening to a Hero of the Book snore, but right then she couldn't even summon up a smile.
It was so cold. She stood up, bobbling on stiff legs, and gathered a small handful of the hay. Just a tiny fire. She'd stomp it out if it looked dangerous. The hay heaped into a small pile against the cool dirt floor, and then she drew the fire sigil just over it. Surely it would work. But nothing happened. The sigil didn't even form. Alia tried it again, biting her lip, praying to see that blue light, but it stayed dark and cold and damp.
Her heart felt cold and empty and frozen. Mechanically, she climbed back into the pile of hay and closed her eyes, pretending to be anywhere but in a cold hay barn, to be anything but an exile from the land of her birth. Even though it was early, sleep came mercifully quickly.
Woohoo! Two chapters in one day! #powerwriting
The fantastic new is, I am officially caught up to be on track with NaNoWrimo finally! Hopefully, with all the lovely support I've been getting from my readers, I can stay on track and hit 50k by the 30th :D