I scoffed. “Royal events only. How ridiculous. I’m sure the world has seen its share of normal folk who do great things.”
“I’m sure you’re right, but I’ve yet to meet one.”
Was I to spend a lifetime conversing with no one but a selfish child? I’d starve myself before month’s end if no other way presented itself. It was enough to nearly wish myself back on the farm.
When Lady Oria came with the evening meal, I’d resolved to play again. Even if it resulted in no change, the act made me feel a bit better last time.
I was ready when she entered, not allowing her the chance to flee before I could hold her captive with song. Rather than repeat the last performance, I skipped straight to the heart of the matter. I’d been considering my plan for hours, and by the time she saw me with my lute at the ready, she knew what would be in store.
A single breath, and I began. Rather than think, I let go of plans and logic, allowing my feelings to carry me, guide me. The music swelled up in my chest, building until I thought I might burst if I held it another moment. When I opened my mouth to sing, I couldn’t have guessed at the words that found me, but find me they did. I released them into the air, unconcerned with their reception, only that the sensations within me needed to be unleashed.
Oh, gentle breeze
Carry my spirit
Send it along with a warm summer day.
Oh, sparkling starlight
Illumine the dark
Show me the path my feet yearn to walk.
Oh, powerful river
Lend me your strength
Let no stone bar me or send me astray.
For the sky is wide
And the road is long
And I’ve years to go before my heart is home.
I repeated the song three times, until the sound of sobbing disturbed my concentration. Lady Oria was curled up around herself in a pile on the floor, wailing in misery. I cringed at the sight, hating myself for having caused her such pain. That was not what I wished to bring on anyone. Music should bring joy, express sadness, tell of great love, not hurt someone to the point they can’t so much as speak or run.
I closed my eyes, my hope fading away. Even if it meant being trapped for years, how could I live with myself knowing my freedom could only be bought with pain? That was not the sort of person I wanted to be.
With a heavy heart, I returned to my bed, my arms wrapped around my lute as I laid down. If she took back the prize, I couldn’t hurt them as easily anymore. I longed to play lighter songs across its strings, to call people to dance with my music, as such an instrument should be used to bring happiness. But doing so would ensure I was kept for all my days. Lady Oria would never let me go if my gifts were to her liking.
The lady in question finally pulled herself up off of the floor, and immediately took Aaron from his cage. I didn’t know where they went, but they likely wanted to get as far away from me as they could. It was entirely possible they were discussing plans for where they might keep me to silence me. What would I do then? Perhaps she’d move my cage to some deep dungeon, rendering me quiet, imprisoned, and totally out of sight.
In the solitude, I wept. I wept for my lost freedom, though I knew I’d done my best. Twice over, I’d tried to use my newly discovered gifts, but I couldn’t use them that way again. Kindness was the harder road, but the rewards infinitely greater. I’d not cause more pain with whatever talents I possessed. That made me no better than them. After so many years of seeing what came of cruelty, I needed to be more than that, if for no one else but myself.
The flapping of wings disturbed my thoughts. I turned to see Ro landing near the door of my cage, the glint of gold in his beak sparking my curiosity. Whatever he held, he dropped it with a metallic clunk outside the bars. Crossing the cage, lute still in hand as I couldn’t bear to part with it, I went to investigate.
There, just outside the door, lay a key.
I stared at it, stunned. Was it the key to my door? Perhaps Lady Oria dropped it in her haste to be away, or when she was suffering through my song. I lifted my eyes to Ro, his head cocked, waiting for me to react. Cautiously, I picked up the key, pulling it inside. It was as long as my forearm, the shaft as thick as my ankle, and the end as large as both my hands. While it was heavy, it wasn’t more than I could manage.
“You’re helping me?” I asked the bird.
A gentle caw was my answer.
“Thank you, friend,” I said, though any initial elation I had was dulled by another problem. “I’d take this and run free, but I think it would be a short-lived adventure. Your wings carry you wherever you wish to go, but my feet aren’t so powerful. How can I get back to solid ground?”
He cawed at me again, an edge of urgency to his voice.
“Perhaps you know another way then?” It was a slim chance, but the creature seemed to understand me well enough.
Another scratchy squawk, again urging me to hurry.
I studied the key, weighing it. If I didn’t take this chance, I might not get another.
With a deep breath, I decided. “All right. I’ll put my faith in you, Ro.”
Running, I darted to the end of my bed where my pack and all the belongings I had awaited me. For a moment, I considered leaving the lute, but the mere thought struck me with despair so strong, I sucked in a gasp. There wasn’t time to dwell on it, however, as Oria and Aaron might return at any time.
Hands shaking, I reached through the bars, inserting the key after struggling with it a moment. Getting a grip on the metal, it took all of my strength to turn it, but, at last, the door swung open. Air rushed into my lungs as though I’d been holding my breath for days. Still, I couldn’t linger. A new set of problems might make it the shortest escape in history.
I hurried to the edge of the table, thinking to climb down the way I got up, but the place I’d come up was only good for a one-way trip; I’d never make it down that way. Slinging the lute across my back to rest on my pack, I searched for anything that might see me safely to the floor.
Before I got very far, talons wrapped around my shoulders. My feet left the ground seconds later, and I found myself in Ro’s grasp, swiftly approaching the upper window. Too terrified to move, lest I startle the bird, I clamped down on my urge to cry out in alarm. It felt much longer, but in moments we were outside.
My first glimpse of the stars in a week stilled me completely. Even with the castle and gardens speeding by below us, the relief I felt at being free chased away any fear within me. I was disrupted only when Ro released me mid-air, swooping down beneath me to catch me on his back. I clung to his feathers, the wind streaming through my hair as I adjusted to my new position. My heart raced with the thrill of escape and the dread of plummeting to my death, but I kept my eyes trained on the twinkling dots of light filling the night sky.
I was free.
Chapter 8
Ro didn’t land immediately. Instead, I clung to his back for what must’ve been at least an hour. My fingers ached from holding on for so long, though my fear of falling kept my hands locked in place. We cleared the edges of the floating castle grounds and banked downwards, past the layer of clouds, and the world I knew came into view once more. It was dark, but I could tell the land below wasn’t the barren plains I left from. What little I could make out by moonlight looked like trees and increasingly more rugged terrain. Even in the dark, the peaks of a mountain range loomed like frosted shadows against the night sky.
While I wasn’t sure I liked our path, I also wasn’t in much of a position to complain. However, if Ro was taking me from a cage to an inescapable trap, I’d be incredibly upset with him.
The wind chilled more and more the closer we got to the mountains, each blast laced with the bite of ice as we wound our way past the smaller peaks. Finally, as my knuckles stung with the beginnings of frostbite, Ro curved to the left around a large outcropping, heading for the tallest of the mountains I could see in any direction. He made no move to tu
rn, even when the outlines of craggy boulders and jutting stones became visible. I tensed, bracing for impact as the snowy rocks drew closer and closer.
Without warning, Ro dove straight down. My stomach leapt into my throat, choking off my scream. The face of the mountain sped by in a blur as we followed it, but I couldn’t even shut my eyes against the scathing wind tearing my lids back. A black hole opened on a ledge directly below us, Ro plunging inside it moments after the sight of it registered. We shot through a narrow tunnel, our speed carrying us down and curving in such slight increments that I hardly noticed it until I found myself horizontal again. It occurred to me that my grip on Ro’s feathers might be painful, but I didn’t dare to loosen it in the least.
The passage emptied out into a wide cavern deep in the heart of the mountain. Our progress slowed, easing to lazy circles as Ro descended to the bottom. Peeking over the edge of a wing, the most curious thing presented itself. A leafless tree grew from the center of the bedrock floor, its pure white branches reaching into the air like skeletal arms. A strange glow emanated from it, illuminating the entire cavern in a ghostly light, though it wasn’t so bright that it hurt my eyes. The tingle at the back of my skull was the same as I’d felt when I studied the beans before, and it spread down my neck and back with a shiver.
The entire place was filled with magic.
Ro landed gracefully near the base of the enormous tree. As I slid off his back, my eyes drifted up the trunk, noting it was easily the same size as the door to Lady Oria’s castle, if not larger. Immense wonder filled me, and I hardly noticed when Ro flapped his wings and took flight, coming to rest on a branch halfway up. My gaze returned to my immediate surroundings, and I jumped when I saw what grew around the roots.
Small pink flowers bloomed from the cracks in the rock where the tree had split it, a portion of them already gone to seed, while others had yet to open their blossoms.
“It couldn’t be…” I whispered, drawing close to the bunch nearest me.
The light scent of jasmine wafted up from the flowers, but what struck me even more were the tufts of seeds. They were the same as the ones I’d seen in the clearing that day.
Make a wish, Jack…
With a yelp, I tripped backwards, scuttling away from the tree and the echoes of my mother’s voice. A breeze stirred around me, and the branches above trembled. A million questions fought over the use of my tongue, rendering me completely speechless with confusion.
Don’t be afraid, Jack.
I covered my ears, terrified that the sound had come from inside my own head. What sorcery was this? Had I gone mad after all?
You’re very special, Jack, and we need your help.
“Who are you? Show yourself!” I yelled. “Why does your voice not echo from the walls? How are you in my mind?”
We know you have questions. Your wish will lead you to answers.
“We?” I said, searching the empty cavern for any other people around.
We have watched over you a very long time, Jack. We’ll not harm you. We need your help.
My head spun, dizzy with shock and from the voice bouncing off of the inside of my skull. “Watched over me? Why? What am I to you?”
We watch over all who spring from magic. We’ve been waiting for you, Jack. Your wish… Your wish can only be granted by your own hand. We need your wish, Jack.
My wish. I couldn’t make sense of it. I’d wished for peace that day in the clearing, but I’d had little but trouble since I made it. I’d lost my home, my freedom, and my entire sense of place in the world, nevermind that I stood in front of a talking tree growing deep beneath miles of rock, and I was likely enemy number one to a giant and the heir to the Litanian throne.
Peace is never without a price, Jack. For you, it is higher than most. Your blood demands it.
“My blood?” I asked. “What’s my blood to do with anything? All my life, I’ve tried to be nothing if not kind. Yet my price for peace is higher than most?”
Our actions define us, but our history is our foundation.
“I don’t understand you,” I said, hands balling into fists at my side. “What history? Am I to make up for the hurt caused by a mean drunkard?”
No. Your family history.
I was beyond frustrated. Why couldn’t I get a straight answer? “I don’t understand.”
Knowledge is powerful. Seek it, and the path to peace will show itself.
“Seek it? Where? How? In case you haven’t noticed,” I motioned to our surroundings, “I’m a bit stuck at the moment.”
Kindness will take you far, Jack. Friendship offered freely begets loyalty in the saddest of hearts.
Confounded spirits. Every sentence spoken by this tree was more riddle than helpful advice. “Are you suggesting I take payment for my kindness? I’d not ask that of anyone. It’s no longer kindness when there’s expectation of returned favors.”
You don’t want help?
I sighed. Perhaps I made as little sense to the tree as it did to me. “That’s not what I meant. Everyone needs help sometimes.”
Then help you shall have.
“What—” My words disappeared in surprise as a massive vine pushed open the ground in front of my feet. A pink bud as tall as my waist burst open, revealing a strange black object that resembled a saddle in some ways, though not one for any animal I’d seen before. Shimmering embroidery adorned it with flowers like those at the base of the tree. Beside this, a tiny glimmer of silver caught my eye, and I bent to take a closer look. A thin chain lay on a petal, a pendant the shape of the small flowers attached.
“And these would be…”
My answer came in the form of Ro’s loud caw as he descended from the tree. When his feet touched the ground, the saddle lifted up, landing on his back as the straps wrapped around his body.
Kindness given freely, Jack.
I approached Ro carefully. He stretched his wings and shook, adjusting to his new accessories. Gently, I reached out to touch the bridle around his beak.
“I won’t make you a slave or pet, my friend,” I said, wincing at the thought of keeping the animal so restrained. “You gave me back my freedom, and I’d gladly give you yours.”
Something cool wrapped around my neck and I lifted a hand to touch it. The necklace and pendent rested on my chest, if the shape of it matched my memory. The moment my finger brushed the petals, Ro’s beak opened, a new voice replacing the creaky squawk I’d come to know.
“Peace for one brings peace for all.” His words swirled around my ears, soft, as though feathers brushed my skin.
My eyes popped at the sound of it, surprised, though I probably shouldn’t have been given everything else I’d been through in those recent weeks. “More magic?”
Your necklace grants you understanding. The feather you possess calls to him.
It was all well and good, but I had no idea what to do with the gifts. Nothing made any sense, no matter how long I stood there in silence.
Are you ready to begin, child?
“Begin what?” I asked, helpless. “I don’t know what you want me to do, let alone where to start.”
Seek your history, Jack. You will find your way.
The glow from the tree faded, leaving me and Ro alone in a dim, ambient light. It seemed that was all I would get for guidance on the matter.
“You’re certain you want to help me?” I asked Ro, eyeing the strange saddle.
“Friends are few. Let our journey begin,” he said, lowering himself to the ground.
The saddle was an odd thing, not much like a horse’s. Rather than sitting upright, the rider was meant to lay flat, arms back to grip handles at the side of the body. A larger person could never fit in such a contraption, but, again, my years of little to eat served me well. I climbed up and positioned myself as comfortably as possible before taking hold of the side grips. Instantly, warm leather wrapped around my torso, securing me to the seat so quickly, my first instinct was to fight for freed
om. The moment I let go of the handles, I was released.
“Worry not. You are no prisoner.”
It would take getting used to, but a few deep breaths eased my concerns.
“Do you know where we’re going?” I asked.
“Where would you like to go?”
That was the big question. The tree spoke of my history, but I had the feeling my sot of a father would be little help with that, even if Mr. Brayton hadn’t killed him for his debt. My grandfather on his side passed on when I was seven, so that too was of no use. As such, it left me with a single option, and I sighed, knowing the difficulty it presented.
“Ro, we need to find my mother.”
I honestly tried to keep myself from causing much of a disturbance as we traveled, but it’s hard to be subtle when your companion is a giant bird and you earn your dinner with magical abilities. After a week of visiting small towns around the countryside, word was spreading about me. I reasoned it wasn’t entirely terrible, as convincing people of my skill was becoming unnecessary, and perhaps the news would reach my mother and she’d seek me out. For the sake of avoiding attention from parties I’d rather avoid, I decided to use my full name, Jacqueline, as most who knew me before only ever called me Jack.
By the fifth town, I was welcomed with open arms and immediately offered food and lodging at the nicest inn there. Not wanting to limit my search, however, I asked to play at the two other inns as well, hoping some of the less wealthy clientele that frequented them might have information I could use. I also saw no reason to deny poorer folk from enjoying whatever skill I possessed. If nothing else, I could spread some cheer to those who saw so little of it.
Ro kept to the outskirts of towns, dropping me nearby and seeking shelter elsewhere. The feather he left behind on the beanstalk allowed me to call him when I was ready to be away from a place, and he always came within minutes of my asking.
The Stillness of the Sky: A Flipped Fairy Tale (Flipped Fairy Tales) Page 8