Inkblots: A Tale of Magic, Adventure, and Romance

XII. Disintegration

Alia sat on her bed—well, the bed, really, since it wasn't hers anymore—and stared blankly as Kitrell held her knotted sheet out and Caddock stuffed her few measly belongings into the makeshift sack. It only took a few moments for the space to go from a recognizable, friendly place to an empty stone chamber that merely needed swept. A confusing jumble of the Head Scribe's furious words echoed through her head over and over and over again until suddenly Kitrell was looming over her.

He almost looked concerned, as far as Alia could tell out of the corner of her eyes, but that wasn't enough to get her to look away from the wall. If she did, she'd almost certainly start crying again, and that would make something like four times in two days—surely too much.

"Come on, Alia," he said quietly. "That's everything, I think."

"Kitrell, why are you helping me?" she asked in a strangely inflectionless tone. At this angle, the crooked bump in his nose was more obvious than ever.

"Kit," he said, almost out of reflex. He straightened back up suddenly, looking thoughtful, and the movement finally snapped Alia's gaze away from the wall.

She almost thought he might not even know the answer to her question. Absentmindedly, the man rubbed a finger across his eyebrow before finally answering. "Call it a problem with authority," he said, not meeting her eyes. "You should put on your cloak."

Obediently, Alia stood up and reached for the warm gray wool, wrapping it around her shoulders. Her body felt really odd—almost like its movement was disconnected from her inner self.

Caddock stood by the door, looking awkward and pained in clear sympathy. He gestured for Alia to go through, and Kit led the way, carrying her little bundle. For one absurd moment, Alia felt like a small child, flanked by her two parents, which didn't make sense. She'd never even had the experience of walking between two parents—it was only ever Merle holding her hand.

At the thought of her Mami, and the concern that would be on her face when she heard what happened, tears prickled at the backs of Alia's eyes again and she blinked rapidly. Think about something else. She wasn't going to walk out of the Librum crying, not after she'd fought so hard to be respected.

Kitrell—Kit—tightened the knot on her sad little bundle, avoiding her eyes. "You should be able to carry this to... where are you going?"

"To my mother's," she said. "It's here on the grounds."

Suddenly, she was conscious of her own bizarre behavior. Gods, Alia, there's a Hero asking about your life and you're just standing there like a statue. Snap out of it. Mami's cottage isn't even that far away. I just have to show them they're wrong and I can come back. Master Rubart will help.

She smiled at Kit. So nice of him to help her through this. It must seem like a petty little drama after he'd fought wyrms and slain water spirits. "Thank you," she said seriously. "I'm sorry about the... crying and all that. I just got a little overwhelmed for a minute. I'm sure it will all be all right."

"You're sure?"

Now, when she was actually calm, he doubted her emotional state. Patiently, Alia said, "Yes, of course."

"So you have a plan?"

"Um..." Stymied, she thought quickly. "Yes. I just have to find where the magic went wrong. Then they'll see that they need me here."

"And you're going to do this how?" Skepticism radiated off of the lithe man at her side.

"I'll just take a closer look at the Book and—"

He didn't even have to say it, but Alia saw pity cross his face for what seemed to be the first time. No more studying means no more Book.