Inkblots: A Tale of Magic, Adventure, and Romance

XXXI. The Border

Things settled into a kind of easy companionship then. Three days of desert trekking slipped by, each almost exactly like the other. Each morning Alia woke with trepidation, saw the relaxed smile of welcome on Kit's face, and bit her tongue determinedly to keep it there all day. She didn't ask where they were going, or anymore questions about Mirabelle. She just laughed when things were funny (as they were often), and once in a while shared her own anecdotes from the Librum.

The desert was especially conducive to this intentional forgetting, somehow. It felt like a place outside of time. She couldn't tell where they were, or often, which direction they were going. The colors were the same-distant, dreamy, dusty-and the smells and sounds followed the same pattern each day.

When she tore herself away from Kit for a few minutes to relieve herself, or at night when he had fallen asleep, Alia gripped tight at her arms and squeezed. She blinked at the world around her, trying to bring what was real back into focus. How long can this really go on? she asked herself silently. What are you doing? Why should you let Kit hide everything from you and just giggle in return? But for each of the last three mornings, she'd woken, seen the smile on his face and the lack of tension in his slim shoulders, and known that she couldn't banish it back into that hard, suspicious glare from before.

But today she was nearing the end of her patience. It was lucky, then, that as the sun reached its apex, she noted the silhouettes of low hills rising up ahead of them. Alia couldn't be certain, but she was pretty sure they weren't going the same way they'd come. These hills certainly didn't look familiar-if hills she'd seen once even could look familiar.

They lunched at the point where flat desert connected to the first grass-swept foothills, and Kit was humming as he fished food out of his pack. Alia lifted her chin bravely, taking one long look at Kit's profile, the angle in his nose that she still didn't know the story behind, the rare cheerful curve on his relaxed lips-and then she firmly asked, "Are we going up into the hills?"

Kit didn't even blink, which wasn't the response she'd expected. "Yes," he said lightly, extending a chunk of seed cake her way. She took it from his callused fingers and bit into it cautiously, waiting to see if he'd say more.

When he didn't, she added, "But not to Beldara?"

Kit shook his head, gold-brown hair swishing lightly as he took a bite of his own cake. "Just south of th'border," he mumbled, mouth full. "We're headed to the Rijo-Bel harbor. But I don't want to try to get you past the Beldaran border guards."

An answer! Finally! Alia's nerves thrilled in relief at finally getting a straight answer. "Rijobo?" she asked shyly, name feeling exotic on her tongue, though she'd said it many times in Geography. She didn't speak the Rijobish language, but even pronouncing the name of the country was fun, with the J that sounded like a Y. Then the rest of what he'd said finally clicked. "Harbor? Are we-" she cleared her throat anxiously. "Are we meeting someone there?" She tried not to picture Mirabelle, as though thinking of the red-haired Hero would make her presence a reality.

"No," Kit said, voice slower and more thoughtful sounding. When Alia peeked up at him from her food, he was frowning down at his lap, index finger rubbing along one brow.

"Well," he said eventually, "You're going to find out sometime. We're securing passage to Scypia."

"On a boat." Somehow it seemed very important to Alia to clarify this point, even though she had seen plenty of maps and knew very well that no land connected the lands to the west with the continent they stood on.

Kit just shot her a wry look, not dignifying her question with a confirmation. He stood up and stretched before hooking his leather pack straps back over his shoulders.