Smuggling her in

Chapter 7: The Price of Entry

The forest gave way to cultivated fields, and the cultivated fields gave way to the sprawl of civilization. The trees thinned, replaced by hedgerows and stone walls, and then the walls themselves grew taller and more imposing until they merged into a single, continuous barrier that encircled the city of Thornwall like the ramparts of a fortress.

Lyra and Aelindra watched from the crest of a low hill, the morning sun warming their backs. The city gates stood open, a massive arch of weathered oak and iron, wide enough to admit two wagons abreast. A steady stream of people flowed in and out---farmers leading cattle, merchants with carts piled high with goods, travelers on foot, and others whose purpose was less clear. From this distance, Lyra could see that not all of them were human. A tall figure with pointed ears and green skin, carrying a staff of gnarled wood, walked beside a pair of burly humans arguing over the price of copper. Further down the line, a small, bearded creature with ears like a fox and a long, bushy tail darted between the legs of a merchant, snatching something from his boot before disappearing into the crowd.

Lyra's stomach twisted. It was one thing to know, intellectually, that this world was different. It was another to see the evidence before her eyes---creatures from fantasy stories and anime, walking and talking and arguing over prices. She glanced at Aelindra, whose silver hair caught the sunlight, and felt a fresh wave of disbelief. "Elves. And... and that other one... with the tail."

Aelindra followed her gaze and nodded. "Foxkin. Not common, but you see them around. Usually as messengers or thieves." She turned back to the gates. "We need to get you into the city. And soon. Before those orcs decide to be more thorough about their revenge."

Lyra looked down at herself. Her skin was smudged with dirt from the forest, her feet were scraped and sore from the rough terrain, and she was completely, utterly naked. The shame was a constant, physical weight, a burning heat that spread from her cheeks down her neck and across her chest. She crossed her arms over her breasts, pressed her thighs together, and tried to look anywhere but at the people flowing into the city.

"How?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "They'll never let me in. I'm... I'm not exactly presentable."

Aelindra's eyes softened for a moment. "You're not 'presentable,'" she agreed. "But you're alive, and that's what matters. Don't worry about it. I have a plan."

The plan involved a merchant named Bren, a man with a round belly, a balding head, and a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. His wagon was piled high with barrels of what he claimed was the finest wine from the southern vineyards, and he was heading into the city to sell his stock.

Aelindra approached him as he was hitching his horse to the traces. "Bren, right? I've seen you at the guild hall. You're a wine merchant."

Bren looked up, his smile widening. "That's me. What can I do for you, elf? And your... friend."

His gaze flickered over Lyra, taking in her nakedness with a quick, appraising glance that made her skin crawl. She tried to shrink behind Aelindra, but it was impossible. Aelindra stepped slightly in front of her, subtly blocking his view.

"She needs to get into the city," Aelindra said. "Unnoticed. The orcs have been hunting her, and they're close. I can pay."

She reached into a small pouch at her belt and produced a silver coin. Bren's eyes lit up. "Silver? For that?" He looked Lyra up and down again, more slowly this time. "She's a bit... exposed, isn't she? The guards might ask questions."

"They won't if you can get her in without them seeing her," Aelindra countered. "I'll pay you another silver once we're inside."

Bren considered this, his tongue poking out to wet his lips. "Another silver? That's a lot of wine money."

"For the risk," Aelindra said. "And for your discretion."

He nodded. "Fine. Get in the back. Among the barrels. Don't make a sound. If the guards find you, you're on your own."

Aelindra handed him the coin, and Bren pocketed it with a smile that was more genuine this time. He gestured to the back of his wagon, where the barrels were stacked in a precarious-looking pyramid. "Hop in. We're leaving in five minutes."

Lyra's heart sank as she approached the wagon. The back was a cramped, dark space, and the only way in was to climb over the side and squeeze between the heavy, curved wood of the barrels. She hesitated, her arms still crossed over her chest, her body tense with shame and apprehension.

Aelindra placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's all right. Just a few minutes. We'll be in the city before you know it."

Lyra nodded, unable to speak. She took a deep breath, gathered what little dignity she had left, and climbed into the wagon. The space was even smaller than she had imagined. The barrels were cold and hard against her bare skin, and the smell of wine was thick and cloying. She wedged herself sideways against the barrels, one arm wrapped loosely around her shins. The angle left one breast partially visible from the side, though she was too exhausted to care.