The Stillness of the Sky: A Flipped Fairy Tale (Flipped Fairy Tales)

by Starla Huchton

  “But Mama’s dresses are the finest in the kingdom, Jack,” Prudence said, looking a little insulted. “And the color—”

  “I’m sure it’s a fine dress,” I said, sighing, “but I can’t wear that where I’m going. Cloth such as this isn’t meant for traveling in the woods.”

  “Traveling?” She frowned at me. “Where are you going? Why can’t you stay?”

  Smiling, I knelt in front of her. “This is your family, little one, not mine. I’d never assume to burden strangers with my care. I’m too old for such things.”

  Mrs. Minkov stepped up beside us and considered me. “You’d not be a burden were you in our employ. Prudence would do well with a companion, and you’ve earned our trust for certain. She’s a curious little thing and needs someone with her to guide her safely in her explorations of the world. If you’d consider it, you’d be most welcome to come with us to Torell as a permanent addition to our staff.”

  I stared up at her, unsure of how to respond. While it was tempting, I had no desire to dress in fine clothes and play at society when I would never truly be a part of such a world. And when Prudence was grown, what would become of me then?

  She smiled as I stood. “But, I think you have other things in mind for yourself.” Prudence’s mother strode across the dark wood floors, her steps light with years of practiced grace. She opened a tall wardrobe and rummaged through to the back, producing a soft, cream-colored tunic and finely tailored breeches. “As one who’s fought to follow her own dreams,” she said, offering the clothing, “I’d never think to stop another from following theirs.”

  Twice in as many days now, I’d been offered employment and had it taken back in the same breath. This offer was even greater than the last, and still they thought it unworthy of me? I couldn’t help wondering if the world had severely overestimated my intelligence and ability.

  “Prudence, dear,” Mrs. Minkov said. “Go and fetch my brown boots from my dressing chamber, the ones that come to my knees. I think they’ll serve Jack well on her travels, and I can buy another pair easy enough when we’re home again.”

  The girl hurried off, and I watched her go, still lost in my own thoughts.

  “You’ll at least stay for the noon meal, I hope,” her mother said with a twinkle in her eye. “Dreams need more to run on than an empty stomach.”

  Chapter 3

  “Remember, if you’re ever in Torell, please come visit,” Mr. Minkov said as he shook my hand for the hundredth time. “I could never repay you for your help with Prudence, so no favor is too great to ask.”

  “It was nothing, truly,” I said. “I’m only glad she’s home safe.”

  Mrs. Minkov eased him away and embraced me. “Nevertheless, the kindness you showed her would be offered by few. You’ve gifted us our only child back safely.” She pulled back and smiled at me. “Wherever your travels take you, I hope you meet with nothing but greatness in the world.”

  The wind rushed out of my lungs as Prudence flung her arms around my waist. “I wish you’d stay, Jack. I’ll miss you!”

  I chuckled and returned the sentiment with a gentle hug. “Be careful not to wander off after any more deer. Their trails are tricky things.” Tilting her head up, I winked at her. “But don’t worry, I’ll see you again, I’m sure.”

  Hefting my pack, which now held an apple, some dried meat, and two fresh rolls on top of my own sparse possessions, I turned and headed back to the main road.

  “Jack!” Prudence’s father called after me. “Best keep to the westerly road. It’s a bit more rocky, but the journey more beautiful.”

  I waved in acknowledgment and set out once more. As I walked, my mind wandered, my thoughts of where I might go next or who I would meet. Really, the possibilities were endless, but a little overwhelming because there were so many. With no solutions presenting themselves, I once again took up the matter of the mysterious beans. I wondered if maybe there was someone who might help me find out where they’d come from, or what they might grow into if planted. There were always rumors of witches in the woods outside of any given town, so I resolved to ask after one the next village I came to. As I had no other plans, it seemed as interesting an idea as any to pursue. So long as I had all of the time and freedom in the world, why not make an adventure of it?

  It was entirely possible that the beans I found were only beans, but their appearance and the strange tingling at the back of my skull whenever I thought about them told me otherwise. Still, if they turned out to be nothing more than seeds from a normal plant, at least I could count them among my assets. If I ever decided to take up farming again, they would be the first thing I planted. What ended my old life would start my new one.

  Keeping to the advice from Prudence’s father, I stayed my western course. Even though I’d walked for well over six hours, I had yet to pass so much as another house, let alone a village. It wasn’t unusual for towns to be spread so far apart, however, so I wasn’t overly concerned when I made camp that evening.

  A roll and two of the strips of dried meat served as my dinner before I settled in to sleep at the base of an old oak. As I yawned, I untied the little pouch from my belt and dumped the seeds onto my palm to look at them once more. My last thoughts were of them as I drifted off to sleep.

  Dreams of the strangest kind haunted me that night. Between a curious melody reaching me in fits and starts and fading notes, and the bulging shapes hiding behind thick fog, I couldn’t make sense of it, and woke in a state of complete confusion. I’d thought I heard someone calling my name, but, upon opening my eyes to the first rays of morning sun, found I was alone.

  When the next full day resulted in no signs of human civilization, I finally started to worry. One or two berry bushes allowed me to stretch my food stores, but all that was left to me the next morning was the last two rock hard biscuits I started with three days prior.

  A definite change in the terrain heightened my concern. While the gradual slopes of the hills the day before hadn’t bothered me, the forest was thinning, with rocks and boulders replacing trees. Cresting the rise of a hill, woods gave way to arid plains, and, in the distance, mountains rose up beyond the layer of clouds.

  I sat down on a large boulder, needing to collect myself. Neither my clothing nor supplies would see me safely over the Amber Ridge Mountains, and, even if I could make it, that would leave me in Bern: a kingdom I’d never visited and knew next to nothing about. I’d heard the king there had recently been deposed after he interrupted the bloodline, and I reasoned that perhaps being a newcomer there would be made more difficult by the upheaval caused by a new monarch.

  Then where should I go, if not to Bern? Twice I’d been advised to go west, but I was at the farthest I could go without jumping into a very ill-advised trip.

  In the middle of my thinking, a single sound lifted the hairs on the back of my neck. A low growl somewhere behind me turned my stomach to liquefied fear.

  Wolf.

  Without turning, I knew there would be more than one. Searching for options, I spotted a tree twenty feet away that might provide me with an escape. Slowly, I stood and slid to the base of the boulder. Three twigs snapped behind me.

  If I was fast enough, I could make it.

  Snap.

  I held my breath.

  Three.

  Two.

  One…

  Pushing off, I sprinted for the tree. Immediately, no fewer than five wild dogs leapt from the rocks behind me, barking and growling in pursuit. The solitary tree seemed leagues away, and I reached out my arms, desperate to be that much closer. My foot hit the rock at the base of the trunk, and I launched myself into the air, grabbing for the lowest branch. No sooner had I swung myself onto it then I stood, clambering up as high as I could go. The branches tore at me, and more than once I heard the rip of cloth over the noises of the wolves leaping up the trunk of the tree. My hands stung with callouses torn open, but I didn’t stop until a branch gave way when I set my foot upon it.


  Twenty feet high, I looked down. The animals circled the base, pacing and staring up at me with hungry eyes set deep in matted gray fur. Even when they jumped at me, none came at all close to my perch, so I counted my blessings that I’d learned to climb trees and say no to dresses. At last, I took a breath to calm myself. Eventually they’d leave, and I’d be free to move again. At least until they left I’d have time to think about where to go next.

  Settling in for a good, long wait, I took stock of myself and my possessions. A small rip in the elbow of my shirt gave me cause to curse, but my pack was as it should be. As I got to my belt, however, I froze.

  The pouch was gone.

  Hopeful that it was only caught on a nearby branch, I started my search there, tracing the path I’d taken up the tree. It only served to agitate the wolves, however, and there was no trace of the beans anywhere. All I could do was hope the blasted animals wouldn’t eat them.

  As it turned out, I had much longer to wait than I anticipated. Underestimating the persistence of wolves, I assumed that within an hour, maybe two, they’d move off in search of easier prey. But when the orange tinges of sunset colored the sky, the pack was still at the base of the tree, looking certain that my aching body would win out over my need to live at any moment.

  In my sixteen years, I’d been beaten nightly, locked in cold cellars, denied food for days, and lived with constant certainty that my life was moments away from being brought to a violent end, and I’d managed to wait out all of that. A few noisy puppies were nothing compared to what I’d already survived.

  When the first dark clouds, illuminated in red and purple, loomed on the horizon, my resolve wavered a little. It wasn’t until the first rumbles of thunder reached my ears, however, that I earnestly reconsidered my decision to climb a tree in the middle of an open area. The wolves stood and stared in the direction of the approaching storm, but made no move to leave. I looked up into the angry darkness when the first cool drops of rain hit my face. In all my time staring at the sky, I’d learned enough about it to adequately gauge the potential destruction of a storm.

  It was going to be a bad one.

  A crack of lightning struck the ground not a mile away from the tree, sending the wolves running off into the distant forest. On cue, the skies opened up and released a torrent of water, making my careful descent extra treacherous. If I could just get to the bottom before—

  KA-BOOM!

  Halfway down the tree, I was blasted from my precarious footing, falling and flailing through the branches as I struggled for a handhold. Though the tree slowed me some, the ground rushed to meet me. I curled myself up, hoping to at least shield my face from the rocks below…

  Consciousness returned slowly, first with a gentle trickle of water on my cheek, then with the scent of burnt wood. Gradually, the aches and pains found me, though the dull throb of my head and left arm weren’t as great as I thought they should be. Testing my eyes first, I slowly opened them, expecting to be blinded by morning sun if the chirp of birds was any indication for time of day. And yet, everything seemed much darker than it should have been.

  Rolling over as gently as I could, I moved away from the base of the scorched tree I’d fallen from. Upon doing so, I discovered that I was not laying on the bare, rocky soil, but a large carpet of green, as rich in color as any springtime plant. It was soft and thick and slightly spongy, yet firm enough not to rip or tear under my weight. It was likely the reason I wasn’t dead, but I knew it hadn’t been there the night before.

  The source of the strange darkness was another of the leaves directly above me. I reached out a tentative hand and pushed. The thing was heavy, but by no means crushing or trapping me. Completely confused, I crawled out to one side, emerging into the full light of morning.

  It took my vision a few moments to adjust to the sudden brightness, but when I did, I couldn’t believe the sight in front of me. Stunned, I staggered backwards, all but falling down as my gaze drifted up from the base of the enormous plant that had sprung up overnight.

  The bottom was easily twenty feet wide to either side of me, with massive leaves bursting from curled vines thicker than a man’s shoulders were broad. It seemed to be not a single plant, but three twisted around each other, leading up and up into the sky. I followed the trail of leaves spiraling around it like a giant staircase until I lost sight of them in the clouds obscuring the top.

  What, by the spirits, was that thing, and how had it come to be there so instantaneously? What enchantment conjured it? Even more, how long would it remain? Eventually someone would notice it and ask all sorts of questions, and I wouldn’t have any answers for them.

  I paused, hitting on one word swirling in my mind: enchantment. In running from the wolves, I’d dropped the beans. While I couldn’t prove it myself, I was fairly certain they were some sort of magic. Therefore, the only reasonable explanation, even though it was the most outlandish thing I’d ever entertained, was that the plant before me was the result of the three beans being exposed to soil and water.

  “Either you’ve hit your head very hard, lost your mind completely, or found something amazing, Jack,” I said out loud, hoping that talking through the development might bring me some clarity. “As you’re not in terrible pain, let’s discount the first one for the time being.”

  My feet moved without my thinking, and I carried on my monologue, trying to puzzle it out. “You might be talking to yourself, but nothing up until this moment has ever given you cause to doubt the reliability of your brain. That leaves one option.”

  I stopped walking, marveling at the turn of events. As I watched, a single leaf uncurled from the base of the humongous beanstalk, spreading out on the ground before me like a carpet. Was it a greeting? That leaf led to another slightly above it, and a third and fourth after that. Each was perfectly positioned, one leading to the next.

  If ever I’d been given an invitation to anything, that was it.

  Not entirely sold on it, I wandered back to where I’d woken, retrieving my pack and cap from between the layers of leaves. The hat was a bit soggy when I placed it on my head, but I was sure it would dry quickly with the heat of day already growing rapidly. Again at the leaf that unfurled before me, I lifted my gaze up, following it once more into the clouds.

  “I wonder how high it goes?”

  The thought of being at such an elevation, looking out over everyone and everything, cemented my decision. People climbed mountains only to say they’d done it. They built larger and larger structures for no better reason than gaining a closer perspective on the stars. Why should I be any different? How many could say they’d encountered a plant such as this, and how regretful would they feel for having passed up the opportunity?

  Tentatively, I set my foot upon the leaf, unsure if it would even hold me. It gave some, but easily supported what little weight I carried. A large man might find it impassable, but for me, a girl of sixteen with years of hunger under her belt, I’d have no cause to worry.

  Well, no cause pending the strength of the greenery held out all the way to the top.

  As many times as I’d looked to the sky, never before had it seemed so full of promise.

  With a firm nod, I started up. After all, what was the worst that could happen? If nothing else, I’d finally know what it felt like to fly.

  By the time I realized my mistake, it was far too late to do anything about it. After three hours of ascending the bizarre staircase, my stomach loudly reminded me of my current predicament.

  I came to a stop on an extra broad leaf and sat, resting my back against the tough stalk. My options were limited.

  Two rock-hard biscuits remained in my pack, made a little softer by the tiny bit of rain that managed to find its way inside the oilcloth. If I ate them, it might see me through the remainder of the climb, but I’d have at least twice as far to go without food when I finally headed back to the ground.

  Alternatively, I could descend, perhaps finding so
mething to eat after a while, but there was no way to know how long that might take. What if, in searching for sustenance, the time it took me resulted in the disappearance of this unusual plant? If it grew so quickly, might it not vanish in the same manner?

  I wouldn’t risk it, especially since I had only those three beans and couldn’t grow another.

  Sighing, I removed the last of my food from my pack and set the biscuits before me. Considering it, I decided to have one and save the second for celebrating when I reached the top.

  As I reached for them, a dark shadow moved in the corner of my sight. Startled, I turned to see a large, winged creature circling in approach. What was it? I’d never seen a bird that large, and dragons hadn’t been seen in hundreds of years.

  Then again, beanstalks didn’t grow large enough for people to climb to the stars, either. Who was I to question my new reality?

  I dared not move as the shadow drew closer. Soon enough, I saw that it was, in fact, an enormous bird, with wings each larger than a man was tall. Nearer and nearer it approached until the wind from its beating wings caused me to hold my cap and biscuits tightly to me. Landing with a force that sent quaking through the entire plant, a massive crow stopped on the next leaf down from mine, cocking its head to the side and blinking at me in curiosity.

  I couldn’t say precisely why, but something in its eyes spoke of deep intelligence. It was weighing me, trying to judge if I was a threat. As I stared back, I noticed ragged scars amongst its feathers… War wounds from battles I couldn’t guess at. I wondered if it could see similar scars on me. While I had only a few small ones that were mostly covered by my clothing, I felt every trace of this bird’s pain. Life had not shown it any more kindness than it had me. Perhaps it followed the beanstalk for much the same reason as I did.