Chapter 31 Clara
The walls of Noxvalis were bigger than Clara ever imagined. Her jaw dropped as they approached them, and though slightly embarrassed, she kept the expression deciding it fit her character well. “Woah,” she whispered as they approached the gate.
The walls towered over them, guards stationed along the edges with rifles strapped across their chests. Their armor glinted in the sunlight, and she squinted as she tried to take in the size of everything. “Very impressive.” Carver murmured.
He slung his bag to the front of his body, rooting around for his paperwork.
Once Clara’s amazement faded enough for her to focus, she did the same.
She resisted the urge to scrunch her face at the paper.
These written words, her name, birth date, place of origin.
This piece of paper, this assigned identity, had caused so many issues between her and Carver already.
She could only imagine how many more it would cause once they were within the city.
“Getting out will suck.” Clara whispered. The gates looked heavy, and once they closed the only exit was over the wall, or through one of the smaller doors which were sure to be guarded.
“Just think of it as an exciting challenge.” Carver’s voice remained positive, causing her anxiety to flare within her even more. She twisted the bracelet around her wrist, eyes darting as she tried to map out all of their surroundings.
“Ever the optimist.”
“Well, of course.” He took her hand as they got into the line following the caravan. She almost snatched it back, more uncomfortable now that she couldn’t continue twisting her bracelet.
Julia and Mark waved at them from the front, and Clara smiled in response when Julia blew her a kiss.
They wouldn’t see them again, and though Julia’s effervescence annoyed her at first, Clara found she was sad to separate from them.
She missed her mom in a way she wouldn’t admit.
Not the shell her mom became after her dad passed, but the bubbly, excitable, borderline insane woman she had been before.
The line moved quickly, and Clara noted the soldiers weren’t exactly being thorough.
Though there were hundreds and hundreds of people, the guards stationed felt almost as numerous.
Some moved definitively through the masses while others manned their stations, stoically eyeing the crowds.
Carver dropped her hand as he changed the position of his bag, and Clara immediately missed the tether he had provided.
She chewed on the edge of her cuticle, feeling the noise surrounding her. She was struck with the need to shrink inside something and block everything out. Everything was far too overwhelming, far too out of her control. Why did she think she could do this?
Carver pulled her hand away from her mouth, lacing his fingers with hers. Her heartbeat raced, but before she had the chance to say anything he shrugged and said, “You’re supposed to be Calyndor. Be happy and flirty.” His eyes glinted mischievously.
“Don’t tell me what to do.” She answered, but with a smile.
He bumped her with his shoulder. “There we go.”
“What?”
“You look happier already.”
She rolled her eyes, but for once she didn’t have to force a smile. Carver leaned over, his breath on her neck making her hair tickle her ear, “Do you think if I kiss you, the PDA would make the guards uncomfortable and we’d avoid any closer scrutiny?”
She jerked back from him, but didn’t let the shock stay as they moved closer. “You’d make me uncomfortable.”
“So was that a yes or a no?” He finished the question with a light kiss against her neck, and she clenched her teeth to keep from lashing out at him, even as electricity raced down her body. It wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t be doing this to me.
Clara turned to him, smile pasted on her face, her voice artificially sweet and said, “It’s definitely a no.” Then to get back at him for kissing her neck, she leaned into him and whispered in his ear, “But maybe if you’re sweet to me I’ll kiss you a little later.”
The tips of his ears grew pink, and she grinned, knowing that all he could think about for the moment was kissing her. She appreciated that she still held some level of control over him.
They held their identification papers out to the guard, and he glanced at the papers, their arms wrapped around each other, and the single bag they had on their backs. He pushed them through without a question, handing both of their papers back to Carver.
“Well, that was easy.” Clara exhaled heavily.
She knew getting in was the easy part, but it was still a relief to be within the walls.
It didn’t feel stifling at all. There definitely weren’t too many people in the street, and it definitely didn’t feel like the walls were looming over her, threatening her with death. No, she wasn’t concerned at all.
“Now, the fun part.” Carver tugged her hand, winding them through the busy populace. She took a deep breath, shaking off the anxiety that was attempting to suffocate her. This was a mission. She was good at those. She was good at this.
As Carver pulled her down the street, Clara couldn’t help her amazement. “Hey, slow down.” Every building was skillfully designed, stone carvings in many of the older ones. Music came from the center of the city, loud enough to be heard even from the outer roads they walked on.
“Why?” He asked, even as he came to a stop next to her.
She let go of his hand and looked around, unable to pull herself into character as she took it all in. “Have you ever seen anything like this?”
Carver looked around, but his face remained impassive as he shrugged, “What’s the big deal?”
“Carver, it’s beautiful! The wealth, the detail, the music, the smell. Man, I’m starving.”
“Okayyyy,” he drew the word out, unimpressed by her rambling. “Let’s find our contact and then I’ll take you to explore the city for a bit and get food. How’s that sound?”
Amazing. Her stomach growled in response and she laughed, “That works.” Excitement bubbled in her chest with the adventure.
When was the last time she felt like this?
Certainly it was before becoming an operative.
Had she even felt this during basic training?
No, she was too concerned with proving herself.
He glanced between the buildings, taking a second to orient himself. She wasn’t focused enough to do the same, but trusted he would get them to the location they needed to be.
Trust. It was an interesting concept between the two of them. A fragile thread. Barely enough to keep them together and focused on this assignment.
Carver took her hand, clasping it tightly, and pulled her along with him.
He wove them in between the buildings, pausing only to reassess landmarks, and after a few minutes stopped in front of a dark purple door.
The sign above the door read “The Midnight Quill,” in bold black letters, outlined in metallic ink.
Clara recognized the name from their debrief.
“Should we knock?” It was the first time he’d hesitated since they had reached the city, and Clara felt herself step back into the position of control.
“No. It’s a public bookstore. Knocking would be weird.”
Clara opened the door and stepped inside, pausing for a moment to let her eyes adjust as Carver followed her in.
A small water feature trickled on the counter, and the lights flickered almost like candles.
The shelves were crammed with books. Most of the spines were facing outward so it was easy to browse, but some were so full they were jammed in however they would fit.
Clara reached out to trace the spine of one of the books but startled when a woman said, “May I help you?”
“Ah, yes.” Carver cleared his throat as they both turned to face the friendly voice. She was beautiful. That was the first thing Clara noticed. Dark auburn hair curled gently around her shoulders. Her eyes were a muted green, but in a way they made you look twice to see the hints of gold.
Carver straightened, and Clara felt both amusement and a hint of jealousy, but she ignored both. He looked awkwardly at her and after she looked around to ensure no one else was in the store she said, “Is it better to trash or burn books?”
“Neither, information should be preserved.” The woman replied softly, a questioning look in her eyes.
Carver jumped in with the second response, “Yes, but some information is too dangerous for that.”
The woman smiled. “So you’re who they sent.” Her voice remained soft, every word finding its own melody.
“That we are.” Carver confirmed, still observing the woman. Clara wanted to smack him, if only to make him unglue his eyes from the her.
“I’m Marsh.”
“Marsh,” Carver repeated, taking her outstretched hand and gently shaking it, “Carver, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“I’m so freaking sure it is.” Clara muttered under her breath, amusing herself with the aggression in her tone and Carver’s eye roll as he dropped Marsh’s hand.
He shook his head, “And this is my clearly friendly partner, Clara.”
Clara dropped her tone, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Before Carver had a chance to respond, Marsh jumped in. “Okay. You guys have been traveling for awhile, neither of your auras are happy, and I’m definitely picking up on some kind of unsettled vibe.”
“Auras? What are you some kind of psychic?” Clara cut herself off before she added freak to the end of her statement like she wanted.
Marsh’s polite smile didn’t falter, and Carver gaped at her for her rudeness. “Clara—” but once again Marsh jumped in.
“It’s been a long journey for both of you,” she reiterated, “I have a room ready for you to stay in. Let me escort you there, and perhaps we can have a more civil conversation in the morning after you both get some food and sleep.”