Sky Lands: The Gift Stones

by TL Rese

We stood beneath the twisting tree boughs as Audrey blew into one of the reeds. It made a lilting sound.

  “Here.” She thrust the other reed into my hand.

  I made a high whistle before I asked, taking the reed out of my mouth, “Wait, why do we need two of these?”

  “One for each eira.”

  “You mean –”

  A pair of eira came running towards us through the bushes, their presence amazing. They were both a beautiful nightblue. One stretched its long neck towards me, the plumage on its head falling over its black eyes. I stroked the rich feathers of its wings. The feathers bent beneath my touch, the warmth of the animal flooding into the palm of my hand.

  “It’s real,” I breathed. The eira tossed its head several times, opened its beak and blew a jet of dark fire.

  “Of course they’re real.” Audrey had tied the ropes around her eira’s head; the lengths of it draped across the bird’s neck and curved loosely over its back. She came over and strapped ropes onto my eira. “Hop on. Take the reins, Kevin,” she said, with a twist of her smile.

  “I don’t know how to ride these.”

  She looked at me with her arms crossed, as if about to sigh. “There’s no need to burden one eira with two riders when there’re two eira to share the load. You’ll be fine. Now, do you want me to help you up, or do you think you can manage?”

  “I’ll try my best,” I said.

  “Hold it steady – foot in the curve of the reins where it dips near the wing. Then take a leap.” She walked to her eira and hoisted herself up in an easy swing.

  “Great,” I muttered. I took hold of the reins and, with a deep breath, tried to imitate Audrey’s leap.

  The creature protested loudly, crying with spurts of flame as I fell to the ground, dragging the reins with me. The bird’s neck bent awkwardly as I tried to untangle my leg from the reins; its eyes glared at me, its forked tongue flicking out through curls of smoke. Beside my head, I saw Audrey’s feet standing in the grass. “I – I might need a little help,” I said.

  “If I knew I was risking a broken eira’s neck, I would’ve insisted in the first place,” she sighed. She untangled me and practically threw me onto the creature’s back, as if I were a pack on a donkey.

  “I’m glad you had my best interest in mind,” I said, my face warm with a blush. I shifted on the creature’s back; it was a comfortable seat, sitting on top of feathers.

  Audrey rode her eira next to mine. “Here’s some string to hang your reed around your neck. Keep it with you so you won’t lose your eira. An eira will always be near its reed; if you see a reed, you can be sure an eira is within hearing range.”

  I threaded my reed and draped it around my neck.

  “The commands can be different for each eira,” she continued. “But for yours, it’s simple. A short whistle for fast and a long whistle for slow. If you want your eira to go faster, short whistles.” She blew staccatos into her reed. “Slower, long whistles.” She blew a sustained sound.

  My eira was busy poking at the dirt with its beak, oblivious to Audrey’s reed commands.

  “Your eira is trained to respond only to your reed. It won’t respond to mine,” Audrey said, guessing the question in my thoughts. “Imagine how confusing that would be in a group, if every eira responded to everyone’s whistle.”

  I nodded comprehension. “What about flying?”

  “I don’t think you’re ready for that, Kevin. Not until you can get on and off without help.” As my face flushed with a fresh warmth, she added, “But if you have to know, it’s a lilt up to ascend and lilt down to descend.” She demonstrated with her reed. “But basics first, Kevin.”

  “Right,” I mumbled, trying to will away the pink in my cheeks.

  “Grab the reins to turn in the direction you want.” She pulled her reins to the right and left. “And just a simple two shorts to start.” She blew two staccatos and I mimicked her on my reed.

  Immediately, my eira raced off through the woods with me clutching the reins. I turned back to see Audrey disappearing into the forest.

  “Whoa! Kevin, wait for me!” she cried, her voice little in the distance.

  I ducked as branches whipped past, wind lashing my hair. It was like flying through the woods, the leaves dissolving into green streaks. “You have to catch up, Audrey!” I called.

  “Hey!” She was suddenly riding beside me, a grin breaking across her face. “Let’s see if you can catch up.” She gave a lilting command and her eira sprinted forward, its short tail flicking as it raced ahead.

  I took up Audrey’s challenge and blew staccatos into my whistle. I burst ahead with an exhilarating speed, chasing after her. The woods sped past me, and I covered the ground as if my eira ran on air.

  Audrey’s Moreinen gown flowed out, flapping in pale folds over her eira’s dark plumage. She looked over her shoulder, her black hair whipping across her face. Grinning through her hair, she whistled a command. Her eira sprinted faster, light and quick. I followed, blowing furiously on my reed.

  We raced through the forest, our whistles filling the trees. Wind slashed at my taris, sending it billowing around my legs. A momentary optimism seized me when I saw that I was catching up to Audrey. I pushed ahead until I pulled up beside her.

  “We’re almost there,” she said.

  My optimism vanished as I realized she had slowed. Sunlight speckled her pale face, lighting her hair. The foliage had become thinner, letting more light fall into the woods. Soon we arrived upon a strange sight.

  “Welcome to the Philosopher’s Market,” Audrey said.

  Beneath the shade of the trees were tremendous flowers the size of houses. Some were blossoming, their great petals unfurling in the dappled light. Butterflies swirled through little buttercups dotting the grass. On the ground, slabs of colored stone paved the way for pedestrians of all shapes and sizes. Some resembled Jesath, while others were of human height, with pale Alhallren features, draped in an assortment of cloaks and attires. Many animals mingled with the masses. The crowds walked in and out of the enormous flowers that towered like closed tulip buds.

  “You can buy almost anything here,” Audrey said. She dismounted and I did the same with a cautious leap. The bed of buttercups was soft underfoot as I landed. “Jesath buys nearly all the supplies for his instruments here at the market.”

  “There’re some people here who look like Jesath,” I said. I took my eira by the reins as she led hers through the crowds.

  “Yup. Pygmies. There are a lot of pygmies in this region of Alhallra. Most of them live in the Sun Fields, but Jesath became a philosopher, so he moved to the Philosopher’s Corner after he retired from my father’s employment. We gave these eira to him before he left the Krystalline, as a parting gift. Here we are.” She stood before a flower bud that loomed over us, thin and straight, pale with thick petals and an austere air.

  “What are these things?”

  “They’re shops,” she said, as if they were the most natural and obvious things.

  We left the eira lingering on the path as Audrey parted a petal and stepped into the flower. We wound through the flower petals, turning towards the center of the bud. The petals enclosed us on either side, glowing gently with the light from outside.

  We arrived at the center of the flower bud. The petals ascended like walls around a circular space; the room had a radiance from the daylight that seeped past the brown-speckled petals. Above, the flower came to a tip, while below, the petals scooped into a swirling floor, meeting with pollen stems in the middle. The scent of the flower filled the air with sweet vanilla. Arranged throughout the room were fur coats. An old lady with a walking stick came forward to greet us.

  “qufahs kahm hy fehlr iouo quhyh soubahi?” she asked. What can I help you with today?

  “gots ah kouahs houp hhyt doui fehpeh,” Audrey answered. Just a coat for this boy here.

  The English poured into my ear from the translator. I wondered if others could hear it. B
ut if they did, they made no sign.

  The old lady studied me, squinting so hard her eyes were hidden behind her puckered eyelids. “This is an odd one. I’ve never seen anyone look like him before. So young to have lost his fairness,” I heard her say. The English mingled with the light sounds of Alhallran, as though the lady spoke Alhallran to me in one ear and English to me in the other. “Come along, dear,” she motioned to me. “Come along.”

  She bustled to a line of coats, flinging a coat over me then looking me up and down through her puckered eyelids. She shook her head, muttering something that my translator couldn’t pick up. As she busied herself through another rack of coats, I looked at Audrey.

  “I need a coat?” I asked.

  Audrey’s smile curved into a deep corner of her cheek. “If you’re coming with me to Hallia, it’s cold up there.”

  “Ah,” I said.

  The lady came back and wrapped another coat around me. This time she nodded as she brought me a mirror. It was a long white coat, the fur soft. “Deer fur,” she said.

  “Do you like it?” Audrey asked.

  “It’s great,” I nodded. It was so warm, as if it generated its own heat.

  “Okay, we’ll take it.” Audrey gave the old lady some coins. The lady thanked us before we left, the coat slung over my shoulder.

  “Let me pay you and Jesath back for this,” I pressed as we emerged onto the crowded market street.

  Audrey laughed. “Are you going to pay us in Alhallren silvers?” She tossed the bag of coins to me. I opened the pouch and took out a coin. It was a translucent silver-white heptagon, thin and frosted with a seven-pointed star.

  “We admittedly don’t have many of these in the States,” I said.

  “Very funny, Kevin.” She held out her hand and I gave the pouch back.

  “Can’t you maybe think how much this coat’s worth? Estimate?”

  “I don’t know the current exchange rate between the US dollar and the Alhallren silver.”

  “Now who’s being funny.” I pushed through a jostle in the crowds to keep up with her. “I meant, think of something you might like from my world that would kinda equal the price of this coat.”

  “I can’t think of anything,” she said simply, and moved along.

  She stopped at a giant lily. The flower blossomed, a stark contrast to the buds around it. Across the lily, various dead birds hung upside down from thin lines, still unplucked and brilliantly feathered. A plump lady sat on a pollen stem in the middle of the flower, one of the lily’s petals unfurling in front of her onto the grass. She folded her hands on the petal and looked at us expectantly.

  “We’ll take these two hens,” Audrey said, after a quick appraisal.

  The lady was staring at me, her beetle eyes tiny but wide with curiosity. Audrey’s statement seemed to recall her to herself. “Oh yes. Right away,” she said. She hurried two hens from a line. She tied a hen by the feet to each end of a stick. Audrey hoisted the stick across her shoulder with the hens dangling.

  “Which way to the sweets shop?” Audrey asked. She gave a few coins to the lady, who pointed down a curving path. With that, we continued away, the lady staring after me.

  The sweets shop was a rose bud nestled in a corner of the market that was less crowded. We turned through the folds of the petals, the light falling around us in pink shafts. Inside, the petal walls were lined with shelves of candy. The room was dark with a soft crimson glow. A single column of light fell from an opening in the ceiling where the petals parted slightly at the tip of the bud, unwrapping in the beginning of a bloom.

  A woman with rosy cheeks that matched her shop greeted us. Her bun of hair bobbed happily on her head. I browsed the shelves of colored candies while Audrey talked with her. The sounds of their Alhallran mingled with muffled English in my ears. Although the woman spoke with Audrey, every now and then I caught her snatching glimpses of me over Audrey’s shoulder.

  We left the shop with a pouch of sweets that Audrey gave me to inspect. Pulling it open, I saw it was filled with tiny pies the size of pennies.

  “Cool. Could I try one?”

  “Go ahead, Kevin.”

  I took one out. It was the exact miniature of a pie, complete with golden-brown crust. It even felt warm, toasted, between my fingers. Little curls of smoke lifted from it and a baked scent wafted towards me. I popped it into my mouth. I could taste the warm filling of cherries, sweet and delicious, melting in the golden crust.

  “Mmmmm…” I grinned. “A flavor that far surpasses its size.”

  We had reached our eira. They were still near the edges of the market where we’d left them. Audrey extended her palm for the pouch. “Try not to grin like that, Kevin; people are staring. And hand over the pouch. I have a feeling if you kept it, there’d be nothing left for Jesath and the kids when we get back.” She snatched it away and pocketed it in the folds of her gown. “Now, do you need me to help you onto your eira?”

  A warm feeling of happiness was spreading through my stomach. Despite what Audrey had said, I couldn’t wipe the grin from my face. The warmth ran down my legs and through my arms. Soon, I felt as if I were nestled in the comforting scents of a bakery – warm, full, and cozy. A contentedness filled my chest and I couldn’t stop smiling.

  “Ahhhh,” I sighed dreamily. I tottered stupidly towards my eira, took its reins, and made a leap.

  But I plummeted to the ground, spraying buttercups everywhere, crushing the flowers beneath me. Most of the happiness was knocked out with my fall, but some of it still lingered, happy in my stomach.

  Audrey was smiling down at me, amusement twitching at her lips. “Oh, Kevin. Looks like you can’t hold your pie,” she said.

  I groaned as she helped me to my feet, the last of the happiness turning into a dull ache. “What did I eat?”

  “Pies,” she said.

  “They’re not like the pies from back home.”

  “They’re candied pies,” she said. “They make you feel warm and contented. If you’re not used to them, you might become too happy, overly optimistic, and… well… misjudge things.” She looked at my eira. “You were nowhere near the eira,” she said.

  “Thanks.” I brushed buttercups from my legs. I could still feel a tickling in my stomach and wondered if it was the happiness from the pie. “Maybe you should help me up,” I said grudgingly.

  So she threw me onto the bird like a sack. The next thing I knew, we were riding back through the woods. There was no race this time; we simply moved at a comfortable pace, and I was careful not to fall. As she rode, Audrey balanced the hens with the stick on her shoulder. The hens swayed, their bright feathers of every color illuminated to a sheen in the sunlight. As we returned through the dappled woods, a happiness swelled in my chest that I was sure had nothing to do with the pies.

  Chapter 27