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

by Starla Huchton

  I clapped along in time to the first three songs, my mind soaking in every note and word. My world expanded further and further, each singular tone sending my brain down melodic spirals of possibility. For the first time in what might have been my entire life, I was utterly enthralled in the absorption of knowledge.

  Halfway through the fourth song, an easy lowlands ballad I’d heard as a child, I paused, listening. Something about the piece felt off, strange. My smile faded as I scrutinized the musicians on stage. Each looked to be playing the correct notes, but something else nagged at me. In my study, I caught the barest glimpse of furry movement from the corner of the stage. Closing my eyes, I focused, tuning out the voices and instruments one by one.

  That was when I heard it.

  A flute with a tone I couldn’t place had found its way into the song, a coarse, venomous sound that made my blood run cold. I opened my eyes, scanning the crowd and performers for the source.

  It came from behind the stage, louder now. A frantic urge to warn everyone overtook me, but what could I do? If I screamed and babbled nonsense about this hidden melody, I might’ve caused a panic. The crowds would stampede to get out of danger, hurting who knew how many people and destroying the festival grounds and anything else in their way. The last thing they’d concern themselves with was the small girl grinning beside me.

  Behind us and to the left, a tall pole connecting streamers from all directions rose out from the center of a sturdy wooden crate, likely filled with stones. The flute was steadily growing louder, and soon the audience would hear it as I had. The magic woven between the notes was unquestionably bad for everyone, though what it would do for sure, I couldn’t say.

  Not wasting another second, I grabbed Prudence’s hand and dragged her back to the pole, ignoring her cries of protest. Without explanation, I lifted her up, setting her atop the crate.

  “Stay here until I come to get you,” I shouted over the crowd. “Promise me.”

  “What?” she asked. “Why? Where are you going? Is something wrong?”

  The flute trilled over top of the drums.

  “Cover your ears!” I yelled. When she hesitated, her eyes drifting to the stage, I set my hand on her shoe. “Prudence, do it now!”

  Confused, she complied nonetheless. I pointed at her, then mimicked my hands on my ears as well. “Don’t move,” I mouthed, and she nodded, eyes wide with anxious fear.

  The crowd stirred restlessly as I pushed my way to the front of the standing area. The troupe continued to play, but in a different way. Their movements were mechanical, like marionettes, their tune devoid of any spark of emotion. My mouth fell open as I watched a slow trickle of blood ooze from the ear and nose of the fiddler closest to me. His eyes were glazed over, unquestionably bereft of life.

  A woman in the front row screamed as she stood and pointed. Others joined her cries of alarm, some already trying to escape the moving death on display.

  But it was too late.

  The flute’s horrific tune burst forth at full volume, sending everyone within twenty feet of the stage to their knees, howling. Without further thought, I shrugged out of my pack and freed my lute. When the mystery musician stepped from the shadows of the curtain, I was ready for her.

  White blonde hair flowed down her back, the ends drifting away, caught up in the current of the spell she wove. The gold buttons of her deep green vest sparkled in the morning sunlight, coupling with the shine of her knee-high boots to give her a glowing appearance. My fingers eased onto the strings of my lute. The woman might’ve been twice my age, but I’d not let her bring more harm without at least trying stop her.

  People around me fell to the ground, clutching at their skulls as the Piper pressed on. I stepped around them, calmly moving to the center of the pavilion, to let her see me, let her direct her magic at one with some defenses.

  I stopped. With slow, easy breaths, I closed my eyes, focusing on the construction of the chaotic melody of the flute. It spun around me, tearing at me, flinging great claws that wished to sink deep inside me and burrow until I bled.

  “No more,” I whispered.

  The tune broke off, and my eyelids lifted, meeting her icy blue gaze through a dense fog I recognized all too well from my nightly dreams.

  “Ah,” the Piper said, her voice a silky hiss. “There you are. You must be the one who sent my rats running.”

  “You killed those people,” I replied. “Has this kingdom not seen enough death for you?”

  She sneered at me. “You live your way, and I live mine. When you disturb my livelihood, you deal with me.”

  I swallowed nervously, but held my ground. “I’ll give you one chance. If you don’t leave now—”

  “You’ll what?” she interrupted with a haughty laugh. “One itty bitty Bard barely old enough to hold a lute doesn’t frighten me. I’ve met with Bards twice your age and none have matched the power of my flute. You think you can best me, child? I’ll bet my head you lose yours before I’ve played half of my song.”

  “You have one chance to walk out of here and change your ways.” My voice trembled slightly, but I stood my ground. “If you refuse, I can’t promise you such an offer when we’re finished.”

  Her laughter echoed from the stage rafters, and I shivered. “We’ll see, baby Bard.”

  She closed her eyes and inhaled, bringing the flute to her lips. Though my feet itched to run, I refused them and set my mind to work. Something she said niggled at me, but what?

  The song burst from her pipe as a tornado, ripping across the prone figures scattered between us. The notes slammed into me with physical force, each note bashing against me as I fell to a knee.

  Think. I had to think. There had to be a way to stop it, some weakness in her magic, but my vision blurred and spun so quickly that my thoughts escaped me. What had she said to me? What spirit granted her the power to bring such misery to—

  Even as my skull threatened to split wide open under the piercing pitches bombarding it, a single moment of clarity struck me as a slap to the face.

  “None have matched the power of my flute…”

  The flute. The magic was in her flute. Whether she was Bard or not, I couldn’t say, but where she wielded a single blade, I could command three at once. I began with words.

  Let the lakes run dry

  Let the stars burn out…

  I dove deep inside myself, pulling at every shred of strength I possessed to find the song, pushing through the relentless, battering trill of her pipe.

  Let the moon crumble up above…

  I staggered to my feet, my fingers finding the strings of my lute of their own accord.

  You will never find

  A love truer than mine

  And a heart freer than the sky.

  A sway, a spin, and I loosed the full torrent of myself upon my target. The words and melody flowed around me, wrapping me in sweet serenity like gentle armor. A song like I’d never known poured from my lips, exploded from my instrument as a great symphony, and sprung from my steps and twirls as spring bursts from winter’s icy grasp.

  Let the clouds rain fire

  Let the fields turn to stone

  Let the earth split in twain

  You will never find

  A love truer than mine

  And a heart freer than the sky.

  Spirits above

  And spirits below

  None can measure the depths I know

  For you’ll never find

  A lover truer than mine

  And a heart freer than the sky.

  Dipping in a low, kneeling bow, I strummed the final chord. My pulse raced, and each breath came in deep, ragged gasps. I remained there, motionless as I listened for any sign of movement. Had it been enough?

  Lifting my head was a monumental task, but I couldn’t be caught unprepared. Though I didn’t know what more I had left to give, I’d not go down without a fight.

  The Piper stood on the stage, her body wa
vering to and fro, as if a breeze gently nudged her. The flute fell to the stage in a clatter. Half rolled to the left, the other piece tumbling off of the edge.

  But the Piper didn’t move.

  I knelt there, panting, sweat dripping from the ends of my hair. People stirred around me, but I couldn’t focus on them. Grey sparks danced at the edges of my vision as my strength gave out. A single touch on my shoulder was all it took.

  The blackness closed in.

  Chapter 14

  The feel of something warm in my right hand stirred me from sleep. I shifted, sinking deeper into the softness beneath me.

  Softness? Where was I?

  My eyes flew open as my last conscious moments returned to me, and I tried to sit up.

  “Easy now,” a thick male voice spilled over me as someone pressed down on my left shoulder. “Your body is still recovering. Give it time.”

  I turned my head, taking in the dark skin of a man I didn’t recognize. His wide nose and the almond shape of his eyes were unlike any I’d seen before. “Who are you? Where am I?”

  “You’re in the palace, Jack,” an all-too-familiar voice said, startling me. “This is Sudam, another Bard. He’s here to help you.”

  I stared at Prince Willem, sitting at my other side, unable to fully comprehend his words. “The palace? How did I get here? Where’s Prudence? Is she all right?”

  When I struggled to sit up again, Sudam’s strong hand held me firm. “You need to rest, asita,” he said. “You’ve been asleep for a day and then some. You mustn’t push yourself.”

  Willem held my hand in both of his. “Prudence is fine. Her parents were sent for yesterday after the guards brought her with you. She refused to leave your side for hours. They had quite the time of it.”

  I frowned at the cream canopy above the bed, trying to get a hold on my situation. “I was asleep for a day?”

  “Yes, asita,” Sudam said. “The fever took you for a while, but you’re very strong.”

  “I think you might’ve helped a bit with that, Sudam,” Willem said.

  The dark man smiled down on me. “Perhaps you were lucky I answered the royal invitation I received, but my songs can only foster that which is already within you.”

  “May I please sit?” I asked. “I’m not broken.”

  Willem finally released my hand, assisting Sudam in helping me up. I was much weaker than I expected, but not so much that I needed two grown men to assist me. Propped against the headboard, I folded my hands in my lap and stared at them, thinking.

  “So, you’re a Bard, too?” I said at last, looking to Sudam.

  He nodded. “Indeed. I was born in the kingdom of Moran, though my mother hails from the golden coast of Corumon. But the road is my home, asita. I go where the wind bids me.”

  Chewing my lip, I filtered through the millions of questions I had about the strange powers I’d been born with. Where to start? I supposed most of them could wait in favor of the immediate situation.

  “The people at the festival, are they…” The final part of my question stuck in my throat, and I swallowed past it. “How many did she…”

  Willem sighed heavily. “The troupe of musicians were the only casualties, though some still complain of headaches from the Piper’s song. She’s never been more than a bully and nuisance before the incident at the festival. Still, Torell has been cursed with that woman for over a year now, with no one able to stop her.” His fingers slipped over my folded hands, his touch soft and warm. “No one until you came along, that is. She won’t harm anyone ever again thanks to you.”

  The blood drained from my face. “What? Surely I didn’t… She’s not… She’s not dead, is she?” That I could be responsible for taking the life of another turned my stomach so much I thought I might be sick.

  He shook his head. “No, not dead. She lives… In a manner of speaking.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Your Piper,” Sudam said, stretching, “she used to be a Bard. Tallia was her name. I met her years ago on the outskirts of the great wildlands in the far east. She was searching for a sorcerer to help her focus her power. When I knew her then, her talents were small and scattered. She could sing any song beautifully, so long as it was a Bernish jig. She could tell many stories, so long as they were about rabbits or monkeys. Her dancing was second to none, if a circle dance was required. In all aspects of a Bard’s gifts, she was limited. Most of us have a single concentration of strength. For instance, my skill with my native burandi,” he pointed at an exotic-looking instrument in a chair beside us, one half drum, the other half a stringed almost-lyre, “is unparalleled in the world. I sing moderately, but only through practice, not innate talent. Tallia had no such concentration. The man she sought promised to shape her pieces of gifts into a single specialty.”

  “The flute,” I said.

  He touched my nose, grinning. “Precisely, asita. But not any flute. Only a single flute could be used that way. Her ability was tied to it as the tides are tied to the moon.”

  I gulped. “And I broke it.”

  Sudam nodded, solemn. “And taken her gift with it.”

  As the weight of what I’d done settled over me, I slumped, feeling faint. Though I’d not known my gifts long, to have them taken from me would be like losing both arms and legs. How could I live that way, being severed from my reason for existing?

  “Spirits help me,” I whispered, closing my eyes as tears spilled over. “What a cruel thing I’ve done.”

  “Don’t be harsh with yourself, Jack,” Willem said, squeezing my hands. “Sometimes kindness comes with a price.”

  “But who am I to collect such a toll?” I said, my words broken with sob. “I’m—”

  “The only person who could,” Sudam said. He lifted my chin to look at me. “I know two others like us who’ve met their end at her hand. She changed after meeting the sorcerer. She was always after more of everything, never satisfied, needing to prove she could best any competitor. Some people cannot be saved, they can only be stopped.”

  “Everyone can be saved,” I whispered, thinking of the man I called father, “but sometimes only if they want to be.”

  “So much wisdom, asita,” Sudam said. “How do you know so much about the world?”

  I freed my hands from Willem’s grasp and swiped at my eyes. “It’s been a long month.”

  Sudam’s smile faded. “A month?”

  I nodded, unsure about his shift in mood. “Well, things were never easy before that, but discovering my talents added a fresh challenge to it.”

  Sudam stood and paced beside the bed for a minute or two, his hands clasped behind his back. “You defeated the Piper after a mere month of learning your talent?”

  “Talents,” Willem corrected. “She sings, plays, and dances. Her stories are none too terrible either.”

  Sudam stopped and stared at me. “You do all of these things?”

  I fidgeted with my blankets, worried. “Well enough. Is that so unusual for a Bard?”

  “As I’ve said, Bards have skill concentrated in one, perhaps two things at most.” He sank back down on the mattress beside me, scrutinizing every feature of my face. “Who are you, asita?”

  At a loss of how to answer him, I shrank under his gaze.

  Before I could cobble together an explanation, a maid bearing a tray entered the room, two royal guards at her heels. The girl placed her offering on a table on the far side of the sunlit room, the scent of stew and fresh bread setting my stomach to growling before she even lifted the silver dome from the plate.

  “Your Highness,” one of the guards said with a bow, “your immediate presence has been requested by your father.”

  Willem sighed and stood, casting me a brief look of concern before turning away. “Of course. I’ll be along shortly. One moment, please.”

  When all but Sudam had gone, he turned to the Bard, giving him a meaningful look. The unspoken communication seemed to be Sudam’s cue to step outsi
de, and my stomach fluttered nervously as the door clicked closed behind him.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but Willem wasted no time. In a heartbeat he was there, pulling me close to his chest.

  “Please never frighten me that way again, Jack.”

  Again with his odd attachment? Did he intentionally mean to throw me into a spin with these stolen intimate moments? Despite my rational mind, I couldn’t help but relax in his arms.

  “I’m fine, Your—”

  “Don’t,” he interrupted as his fingers slipped through my hair. “Please don’t call me that.”

  I frowned against his crimson doublet. “This is a very poor choice on your part. You shouldn’t dote on me so.”

  “You’ll excuse me if I disagree with you.” He eased back, collecting my face in his palms. “It’s hardly by choice I act this way. I’ve thought of little else but you since before we met.”

  I sighed, staring up into his green eyes. “Perhaps you’re not trying very hard.”

  “After so many years, there’s not much fight left in me.”

  As his face slowly dipped toward mine, I giggled, my wits scattered. “You and your brother have such unusual tastes in women. It must be a family trait.”

  He paused, his lips hovering over mine as my eyelids drifted closed.

  “My brother?”

  I sucked in a breath, realizing the utter idiocy that escaped me in a moment of weakness.

  His warmth disappeared, and I cringed, wishing with all my being that any magic I possessed render me invisible.