Chapter 1 #3
Her old gown would have to do. The brown linen couldn’t be called pretty, and it was faded, with patches discreetly sewn in a couple of places.
But it was by no means disheveled. She looked very respectable.
Her mind started to again flit back to a time when she’d had more pretty gowns than she could wear, always in the latest fashion.
But she drew her thoughts swiftly back to the present.
She was clothed, fed, and safe. All was well.
The sun was already bright as she moved through the town she’d come to call home. It was a nice enough community, the people mostly friendly, although times were too lean for much generosity. The weather was hotter than in the nearby forest, but not scorching like the desert could be.
A stray breeze swirled pleasantly past, and she lifted her face to it, letting the gust caress her skin.
As the movement of nature always did, it stirred her magical sense, inviting her to take hold of the Dust, just for the joy of it.
It would be a weighty task to harness the movement of the wind itself, intangible as it was, but if the breeze was blowing her skirts, it was blowing other things as well.
An eddy of leaves danced by her feet with the thought, and she latched immediately onto the Dust created by the leaves’ movement.
Gathering the individual power from each leaf into one force, she shaped it into an invisible cushion.
After a quick look around to make sure no one was in sight, she sent the cushion of power behind her, letting it push her forward at an unlikely speed as she hurried across a sunny patch, making for the next shade.
The door to the nearby inn swung open, and Alina abruptly dropped her control of the magic.
The men who strode out were strangers, most of them thankfully uninterested in her as they hefted rucksacks over their shoulders.
One of them, however, let his gaze linger on Alina as she hurried past. The skin on the back of her neck tingled unpleasantly.
He couldn’t have realized she was using magic, she assured herself.
She’d let it drop before any of them got a glance at her.
The encounter rattled her, though, and she kept her head down as she hurried the rest of the way to the market.
The town had always been a common stop for travelers between the desert and forest regions, situated on the border of two worlds as it was.
But recently, that number had exploded. The cause was the huge center the Siqualian crown had started in the desert for the refinement of chameleon steel imported from the reclusive kingdom of Dernan.
It was part of Siqual’s alliance with Carrack and Dernan, and it hadn’t interested Alina much when the project began.
But since the more astute in the community had put the pieces together that the disappearances had only started after the refinement project began, everyone in town was a lot more wary of travelers passing through.
Alina reached the market just as the artisan who’d hired her arrived with his wares.
“Let me help with that,” she said, hurrying forward.
“Bless you, Alina,” said the portly, older man. He mopped his forehead. “Running behind this morning, and I don’t want to miss the group that’s apparently passing through. I have some new wares, straight from the capital. Commemorative plates for the prince’s wedding.”
“What?” Alina looked up, startled, her hands frozen in the act of lifting a box. “Prince Xavier is getting married?”
“Hardly, my dear.” The artisan chuckled.
“Judging by his reputation, he’s not likely to hurry into marriage, is he?
He’s young enough that there’s no rush, but I imagine Their Majesties will have to drag him to the altar when the time eventually comes for him to do his duty.
I was referring to the royal wedding a couple of months ago, between Prince Theodore and the Torrenese princess. ”
“Oh, of course.” Alina felt a fool as she resumed motion.
The younger prince’s recent marriage had been much talked of.
Why were her thoughts so determined to fixate on Prince Xavier this morning?
“So these were delivered from the capital since last week?” she asked curiously, studying one of the plates.
The artisan nodded. “Apparently they’ve been very popular there. My wife has been after me to expand my wares beyond my own work, and she’s right. Sales are not what they were. Speaking of which…”
His voice trailed off regretfully, and Alina winced, guessing what was coming.
“Only a half day again today?” she guessed.
“I’m sorry, Alina,” he said. “I wish I could pay you for the whole day.” His forehead creased in concern. “I wish I had enough work to hire your services a few times a week. I didn’t like to see you working a shift in the tavern the other night, child.”
“I’m all right,” Alina assured him, perfectly sincere. “I’m grateful for the half day, and I understand times are tight.”
“You’re a good girl, Alina,” he said, ignoring her assurances. “And you shouldn’t have to put up with the advances of drunken fools.”
“If you saw the behavior of said drunken fools, then you saw that I was perfectly able to manage them,” Alina said placidly. “I’m not afraid at the tavern, sir. The owner would step in if anyone crossed too far over the line.”
The older man didn’t look satisfied, but he let the matter drop. “You must join the family for a meal sometime, at least,” he said.
“You’re very kind.” Alina smiled warmly, but made no promises.
She didn’t intend to accept hospitality she couldn’t return.
The strict rules of etiquette her mother had taught her may have been intended for a very different lifestyle from the one she was living, but that didn’t mean she could just cast them off. They went too deep.
“Well, perhaps business will be better this week,” he went on optimistically. “With the group passing through toward the desert and all.” He smiled at her as he emptied another crate. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll need regular suppliers and can pay to send you on a scouting trip to the capital.”
Alina laughed. “It’s a generous thought, but I don’t think your family would thank me if I robbed them of the chance for a trip to the capital! And I have no desire to go there, anyway. I’d much rather stay here.”
Her companion looked incredulous for a moment, before sudden understanding crossed his features.
“Ah, of course, that’s where you lived with your parents, rest their souls, before you moved to this region. Too many painful memories there, my dear?”
Alina gave a pained smile, and thankfully the artisan let it drop, taking her silence as agreement.
It wasn’t true, though, Alina reflected, as she carefully displayed one of the commemorative plates on top of the stack. Only one memory from the capital was really painful, and even so, the emotions it stirred were too complex to be solely negative.
“I love you, Alina. I’ll love you forever.”
Alina winced as the memory flitted through her mind with uncomfortable clarity, the words impetuous and ridiculous, but the emotion in the speaker’s eyes embarrassingly convincing.
Some part of her had believed it back then, foolish as that made her feel now.
She could only be grateful that even at fourteen she’d had enough sense not to be swayed by tempestuous emotion.
What a fool she would have made of herself if she’d taken him seriously.
It didn’t matter. It was all ancient history, and not the reason she was staying away from the capital.
Or at least, so she told herself firmly any time those memories surfaced.
The truth was, the capital wasn’t haunted by painful memories so much as by happy ones.
She didn’t think she could bear to live a hand-to-mouth existence in the shadows of her former luxury.
She’d learned to be content with her more modest life, but apparently she still had too much pride.