Chapter 4: Beyond the Pages

The rhythmic creak of the carriage was starting to grate on my nerves, a constant whine accompanying the endless rumble of the wheels. My backside felt like it was made of lead, every bump in the road sending a jolt through my spine. Even the gentle rocking of the carriage on flat stretches was starting to feel like torture. We'd been at it for three days straight, relying on dusty roadside inns each night to offer a semblance of comfort for both us and the weary horses.

The poor beasts. They pulled our covered carriage with admirable determination, but even their strength had its limits. We'd stopped multiple times a day, Thorin muttering about "giving them a chance to catch their breath." I couldn't blame him. The journey had been shrouded in secrecy. Thorin spoke little, his eyes perpetually fixed on the road ahead. The packages we carried – hefty, leather-bound cases sealed with thick wax – were the only source of my ever-growing curiosity.

Who were they for? What secrets did they hold? I couldn't help but steal glances at them, the smooth leather tantalizingly mute. Father had been clear – under no circumstances was I to touch them. Fine by me. My own suspicions simmered enough already. Were they some kind of official documents? Or something more…nefarious?

The landscape offered little distraction. Rolling fields of tall grass stretched out on either side, occasionally broken by a copse of trees or a lone, weather-beaten farmhouse. The monotony was only broken by the occasional landmark. Yesterday, we passed a crumbling watchtower, a solitary sentinel guarding the horizon. Legends whispered of battles fought and heroes slain, but the wind carried only silence now.

Then, on the cusp of the fourth day, a change in the scenery jolted me awake. The rolling hills gave way to steeper inclines, dotted with clumps of pine trees. And then, a vision that sent a rush of relief and a surge of curiosity warring within me – the spires of Willow Creek, a town nestled in a valley, peeked through the distance. We were here. But for what?

We pulled up to an unassuming inn, its weathered sign creaking in the breeze. The address my father had provided led us here. With a deep breath, I handed one of the packages to the innkeeper, a weary-looking woman with a face etched with the lines of a life lived outdoors.

"Delivery for someone named... Abernathy?" I asked, hesitantly.

She squinted at the package, then back at me.

"That'd be right. He's been expecting it. Leave it right here, dears."

Kass and I exchanged a bewildered look. Abernathy? This quaint inn, not some grand manor, was the destination of our clandestine journey? Uncertainty gnawed at me.

My fingers itched with a forbidden curiosity.

Back in the carriage, with Thorin momentarily looking away, I took a deep breath and untied the crimson ribbon on the remaining package. The wax seal yielded easily, and a gasp escaped my lips.

Inside, nestled in faded velvet, weren't jewels or gold, as I'd half-expected. Instead, a couple of old volumes lay nestled together.

Their worn leather covers were cracked and dusty, the edges frayed. Disappointment washed over me. These were just... books. But not just any books. A closer look revealed faded handwritten titles — History of Willow Creek and Local Flora and Fauna. These weren't rare first editions or priceless manuscripts. They were merely old, seemingly inconsequential records of a small town.

Confusion clouded my mind. Why go through all this secrecy for such seemingly useless objects? Why risk our safety for a delivery that could have been entrusted to any passing merchant? A thousand questions swirled around me, unanswered and frustrating.

We dropped off the remaining package at the inn.

"That's all, then?" I ventured. My question hung in the air for a beat too long before the innkeeper chimed in.

"Your rooms are upstairs, dear," she chirped "Breakfast is served in the main hall every morning. Eight o'clock sharp."

My head snapped up. Rooms? We weren't staying here.

"No, no, thank you," I stammered, "we just needed to drop off these parcels. We're heading back to Eldoria after a quick rest for the horses."

The innkeeper's smile faltered for a brief moment, but it was back in a flash. "But the carriage driver, he just paid for two months in advance for your stay."

My blood ran cold. Two months? I whipped around, searching for Thorin, but he was already gone. He'd led the horses around the back to the stables without a word. My throat tightened as I remembered the coin purse clutched in my father's hand before we left, the murmured conversation I couldn't quite make out.

There was no way. Home was calling, and every passing minute felt like a betrayal.

"Thank you, but we won't be needing the rooms," I forced myself to say, my voice tight with suppressed panic. "We're leaving. Now."

The innkeeper blinked, her smile faltering for the second time. "Leaving? But your accommodations…"

"There's been a misunderstanding," I interrupted, my voice gaining strength. "We need to get back to Eldoria immediately. Please, can we have the money back?"

She huffed, her lips pursed in disapproval. "You can't just cancel reservations like this, young lady. It causes trouble. I've held these rooms for two months..."

"Then keep half the fee," I spat, anger simmering. "Just give us what's left and we'll be on our way." I wasn't in the mood to argue. Home beckoned, and with each passing moment, the knot of unease in my gut tightened further.

She grumbled something under her breath but finally relented, fishing out a pouch and tossing it towards me. I snatched it without a word, the weight of the remaining coins a poor consolation for the time wasted. Grabbing Kass' arm, I practically dragged her out the door, leaving the bewildered innkeeper in our wake.

"Kira, what's going on?" Kass sputtered, barely keeping up with my determined strides.

"My father," I hissed, the anger in my voice barely contained. "He's hiding something from us. Those packages… this whole trip… it's not what he said it was."

We burst out of the inn and into the crisp morning air. The horses whinnied from the stable, oblivious to the turmoil brewing within me. But I knew in my gut, we couldn't stay. We had to get back to Eldoria, and fast. There were answers waiting for us there, answers my father clearly didn't want me to find. And I was determined to get them.

The stable yard felt a world away from the stifling inn. Relief washed over me as I spotted Thorin, his back bent as he adjusted the harnesses on the horses. I called out his name, hurrying towards him.

He straightened, surprise flickering across his weathered face. "Back already, miss? Didn't expect you so soon."

"There's been a change of plans," I replied curtly. "We need to get back to Eldoria. Now."

Thorin's brow furrowed, but he didn't question further. He helped us load the meager belongings we'd brought, his silence speaking volumes. After a tense negotiation (which involved me digging even deeper into the precious coin purse), he agreed to take us back.

As the carriage rumbled out of Willow Creek, the initial anger that had fueled my escape began to morph into a gnawing anxiety. Kass, nestled beside me, remained blissfully unaware of the storm brewing inside me. Now wasn't the time to panic her. But soon, I knew, I had to tell her everything. I had to confess what I'd seen when Thorin wasn't looking.

I stole a glance at her, her face serene in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. The weight of the knowledge pressed down on me, the words tangled in my throat. But as the carriage rolled onward, I knew I couldn't keep this hidden any longer. I had to tell Kass, to unravel this mystery together.

Why all the secrecy for such mundane objects? Why the elaborate charade, the hushed warnings from Father, the excessive provisions for a simple delivery?

"They were just... books, Kass." My voice barely rose above a whisper. "Old, dusty books about local history and plants. That's all they were."

Kass, startled awake, blinked at me.

"You opened them?" she asked, a surprised note edging into her voice.

Shame flushed my cheeks.

"Not exactly opened," I mumbled, looking away. "Just... peeked a little."

Kass' sleepy demeanor vanished, replaced by a mixture of curiosity and disapproval.

"Kira! Your Father said not to touch those things!"

"I know, I know," I said defensively. "But it just didn't make any sense! All this secrecy for a couple of old books? There has to be more to it."

Kass sat up straighter, her brow furrowed in thought.

"Maybe," she conceded. "But why send us? Why not just use some traveling merchant or something?"

This very question had been gnawing at me. "That's what I don't get," I confessed. "It wouldn't have attracted nearly the same attention. Sending two young girls seems... illogical," I whispered, my voice firm despite the knot of worry in my stomach. "As soon as we get back, we're grilling Father about what was really going on with those things."

Kass smirked, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"You can count me in. Maybe there's a hidden map or a secret code in those dusty pages! We'll become master codebreakers, champions of the rebellion!"

The journey back mirrored our outbound trip, the once-unfamiliar landmarks playing in reverse. The watchtower loomed on the horizon, a solitary sentinel no longer stoic but ominous. With every passing mile, the knot of anxiety in my stomach tightened. What awaited us in Eldoria?

Just as the rolling hills began to give way to the familiar outskirts of our home, a new horror pierced the afternoon sky. A plume of black smoke billowed in the distance, a stark contrast to the clear blue canvas above. My breath hitched.

A horrible thought flickered in my mind as the plume of smoke grew closer. Eldoria held public executions for magic users, the condemned tied to stakes and their bodies consumed by flames. But the smoke rising now was far too vast, too billowing to be a single pyre. No, this was a fire. A big one.

"Thorin!" I screamed, my voice cracking with panic. "There's smoke coming from Eldoria! We have to go faster!"

The seasoned driver, usually stoic, mirrored my sudden terror. He lashed the reins, urging the horses to a speed they hadn't reached all journey. The carriage rattled and swayed, but I barely registered the discomfort. My mind was already racing, conjuring nightmarish scenarios of what awaited us in the burning city.

The once-peaceful fields of Sunhaven, the quaint village just two miles from Eldoria's gates, blurred into a sickening smear of green and brown. The smoke grew thicker, acrid fumes stinging my nostrils. Fear, cold and sharp, clawed at my throat. We were almost there. Almost to the truth, whatever it may be. And as the carriage rattled towards the burning city, I knew our lives, and perhaps the fate of Eldoria itself, were about to change forever.

As the city gates hove into view, a sickly sense of foreboding tightened its grip on my stomach. The familiar silhouette of our town, once a comforting landmark on the horizon, was now an unsettling amalgamation of jagged shadows and flickering flames. Smoke, thick and acrid, billowed into the twilight sky, painting the scene in an ominous red glow.

"Go faster!" I shrieked, my voice raw with a mixture of fear and urgency. Thorin glanced back at me with a stoic expression.

"Can't push the horses much harder, miss," he rumbled, his voice barely audible over the clatter of hooves on the dusty road. "They're already spent."

But I refused to accept his resignation. "There has to be something you can do! We have to get there – " My voice trailed off as a horrifying realization struck me. If Eldoria was burning, what state was our home in? What about Father?

Kass, her face pale and drawn, mirrored my terror. We clung to each other, a silent plea for comfort in the face of the nightmare unfolding before our eyes. The once vibrant town was now a macabre tableau of flickering flames and collapsing structures. The sound of crashing timbers and distant screams sent chills down my spine. We were witnessing the brutal aftermath of some unseen tragedy, and a knot of dread tightened in my gut.

As we drew closer, the stench of burning wood and... something else, something metallic and sickeningly sweet, filled the air. My stomach lurched and bile rose in my throat. This wasn't just a fire. This was war.

The closer we got, the more details of the devastation unfolded. People, some injured, some merely dazed and confused, stumbled through the smoke-choked streets. Buildings lay in smoldering ruins, their charred skeletons stark against the red glow of the inferno. Soldiers, clad in the hated black iron of the King's army, patrolled the chaos, their expressions cold and unyielding.

Panic gnawed at me. Fear for my father, for the town, for ourselves, threatened to consume me whole. Tears welled in my eyes, blurring the already horrifying landscape. Kass squeezed my hand, her touch a grounding force in the maelstrom of emotions threatening to pull me under.

Suddenly, the carriage lurched to a halt. Thorin, his face grim, pointed towards a group of soldiers blocking the road ahead. Despair threatened to engulf me.

"We need to get through!" I shouted, my voice hoarse with urgency. "My father – he's in there!"

The soldier in charge, a young man with a cruel sneer twisting his features, eyed us coldly. "Show papers," he barked, his voice laced with suspicion.

We had no papers. Father, in his haste to get the packages delivered, had neglected to prepare any travel documents. A cold dread washed over me. Without them, we were nothing but suspicious outsiders wandering into a war zone.

"We... we don't have any," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

Kass stepped forward, her chin held high. "But we live here! In the bookstore on Elm Street."

The soldier scoffed.

"Many lived here. But not anymore."

His words hung heavy in the air, a grim confirmation of my worst fears. My heart pounded in my chest, a trapped bird desperate to break free.

We couldn't stay here arguing. Every second wasted was a second closer to losing everything. With a desperate glance at Kass, I knew we were on the same page. We launched ourselves out of the carriage, pushing past the startled soldier.

"Wait! Stop them!" he roared, but we were already weaving through the crowd, disappearing into the smoky labyrinth that was once our home.