Whole in the Clouds

by Kristine Kibbee

  “What do you mean, it gives life?”

  “The seeds, Princess, did you see the seeds?” Beatrice spoke up, though she’d been quiet until that moment. She seemed to have a great deal of interest in this particular part of the conversation.

  “Yeah, I guess so. I think I saw some funny-looking nuts or figs or something. I guess they could’ve been seeds.”

  Beatrice had a certain gleam in her eye. “Those seeds, Princess Cora, are the very seeds of life here on Clouden. When the time comes for a Clouden pair to raise offspring, the man and woman go to the tree and select a seed.” With a weighty pause, Beatrice looked affectionately at Celius before continuing. “Each family of Clouden has their own branch on the tree, containing their family seeds. After picking a seed from their family branch, the couple then plants them in the Clouden floor and if they are ready to be parents a son or daughter will grow from the clouds!” She finished with a smile and turned her attention again to Celius, who was grinning from ear to ear.

  “And this is the very reason we are at war,” Thomas broke the silence with a hard look on his face that Cora had not seen before. “These are troubled times, Cora.” She noticed that his jaw was tense. “Just on the other side of those clouds,” he said, pointing out one of the windows to the east, “Forces are plotting to destroy the Tree of Life and Balance to force us once again to merge Clouden with The Backworlds.”

  Everyone at the table was very quiet. Even the hustle and bustle that Cora had heard coming from the kitchen while they had been eating had stopped. She felt exceedingly uncomfortable and wanted desperately to say something but couldn’t find the right words.

  Celius’s warm voice came shining through. “We’re behind you, Sir. We’re going to fight right alongside you. Whatever it takes, we won’t let them win!”

  Cora couldn’t help but smirk. Even Thomas’s intense mood could not withstand the wiles of Celius’s goofy grin and words of devotion. The group returned to light spirits after that and exited the dining room in a rowdy pack.

  Trailing behind, Cora watched as two of Fergie’s fairies emerged from the kitchen, one riding atop the other’s shoulders and pushing a worn cart with wooden wheels. When they neared the table, both sprang from the ground with remarkable agility and began clearing dishes so fast that they began to blur.

  “Things are quite different here,” she said aloud, turning to join the others who had nearly reached the Great Room. Beneath the branches of the tree, Beatrice and Celius wandered off down one of the numerous corridors, waving good-bye with a promise to see everyone tomorrow. Thomas and Serene took Cora and Motley down another of the halls, this one leading to grand door bearing a crest with the letter F engraved upon it.

  “What does the F stand for?” Cora asked.

  “Finnegan, of course,” said Thomas. He watched Cora’s puzzled reaction and realized his mistaken assumption. “My dear, it’s our family name.” He opened the giant, ornate door with little effort and motioned her inside. “Miss Finnegan Cora, welcome home.”

  The dazzling entry that lay just inside the door was enough to take Cora’s breath away. The floor was entirely transparent. The colors of evening had set in, and beneath her feet Cora watched a swirl of deep gray-blue clouds tumbling over one another. A transparent circular table lay just at the center of the room, absorbing the colors of the sky underneath. They seemed to bottle inside it before bursting from its top and lighting the entry’s walls with all the color of the night sky.

  “Your room is this way,” Thomas said as he walked down the hall.

  Cora followed in the footsteps of her father down one of six halls that branched from the entryway. Motley stuck to her heels like glue, uncharacteristically quiet. Cora found that she could not contain her amazement, letting out little gasps of oohs and ahhs.

  “Our room is down the hall right next to yours,” Serene said as they ended at a lovely rounded oak door with a pointed arch. “Don’t hesitate to find us if you need anything.” At this they left Cora and Motley to explore their room.

  Cora waited until the sound of their footsteps tracing back down the hallway had all but died away before she reached for the small brass doorknob that would grant entry to her new sanctuary.

  A slow, cautious turn of the knob and the door seemed to open on its own, revealing the room it had been guarding. Inside lay a space like no other Cora had ever seen before. She felt warm and comforted by the room. She felt at home. Even Motley seemed to approve as he swaggered in and plopped down on an oversized pillow just inside the door.

  The walls were alive with lavender fabric so sheer and airy that Cora suspected she might be able to see right through it if she looked closely enough. A warm breeze wafted through the room and set the silken walls to rippling like lapping waves. Overstuffed, plush furniture was positioned here and there throughout the room, calling out an alluring promise to envelop Cora with their softness. Certainly they were stuffed with the finest and most downy clouds imaginable.

  Amid the scattered furnishings lay a bed fit for a princess. It had a gorgeous, oversized canopy draped in beaded silks of at least seventy different shades of purple, and was adorned with a headboard carved with the initials F.C.

  Cora collapsed in a weary heap on her immense new bed, certain she heard a lullaby of sweet voices, singing, “Welcome home.”

  Nine: A War at the Door

  A newly familiar and soothing voice woke Cora the next morning. “Wake up, honey. Come on now, I just can’t stand it any longer,” Serene said, tracing the delicate lines of dreaming on Cora’s face. “Come now, Motley’s already up and out playing in the Goody Grove. We’ve been waiting for you to wake for hours!” Cora roused slowly, trying to shake sleep’s weight from her bones.

  “Mom?” she called out, lashes still hazing her view. Whether Cora had seen Serene’s face or simply called out the name from habit, it was all the queen needed to set her day off to a glorious start.

  Leading Cora toward the dining hall with giddy skips, Serene lapsed into talk of their impending breakfast, nonchalantly referring to herself as Cora’s mom more than once.

  While uttering the name "mom" seemed to skyrocket Serene to an elated state, it meant a very different set of emotions for Cora. She found her mind riddled with thoughts of her home down below and all the worry she’d caused there. She didn’t muster the courage to talk with Serene about it until they’d joined the others in the dining hall and were knee-deep in jellied donuts, stacks of fried fritters, and every manner of syrup-devoured confection the mind could contemplate.

  “Errr, Mom,” this time it felt a bit odd calling Serene "mom" in light of the topic Cora intended to discuss.

  “Mmm-hmmm?” Serene could barely get a word out between heaping bites of blueberry pancakes.

  “I’m worried.”

  Serene was silent for a moment and then with a sudden look of eureka asked, “This is about the war, isn’t it?”

  Cora, feeling suddenly ashamed for even considering her minute problems with a war looming in the backdrop, lied in reply. “Ah, well…yeah.”

  “Don’t worry, sweetie—” sweetie was garbled between swigs of milk and honey (which according to Beatrice was a Clouden staple)–“—now that we’re all here together we’ll be strong. We’ll be victorious.”

  Serene’s words of encouragement caught the attention of Thomas and Celius, who had been so engrossed thus far in their meals that only chomping noises had been coming from their direction. The pair immediately began to spew awe-inspiring sentiments that felt as though they’d been drafted and rehearsed a dozen or more times.

  Thomas in particular continued to speak unendingly, without saying much of anything at all. Mr. Catlin would’ve called him a typical politician and Cora grinned at the thought of her Backworlds father announcing such with a roll of his eyes. A now-familiar pang of guilt shot through her as she revisited the abandonment of the Catlins. She determined it was best to speak up now, while she had
the courage mustered to do so.

  “Mom?”

  “Mmmm?” This time her mouth was too full to even get a proper word out.

  “There’s something else I’m worried about too.” Beneath the table Cora wrung her hands with reservation and doubt. Nope,she had to do it now, before she lost her nerve. “My…um…adoptive parents…the ones in The Backworlds. I’m just a little worried about them. I’ve been gone over two days now and they must be really upset. I feel pretty bad about having left without even saying good-bye.” Cora held her breath and awaited Serene’s reaction. She didn’t want to hurt her mother but couldn’t keep the guilt to herself any longer.

  “Well, then, why don’t we check on them?”

  Cora’s knots unknotted and her nose unwrinkled. Serene wasn’t upset! “Check on them?”

  Serene gracefully wiped a teardrop of syrup from her porcelain cheek. A swig of sweet milk and she was off and running again. “Remember, dear, when Celius told you that we’d been keeping an eye on you?” Celius was now edging ever closer to them in a not-so-subtle attempt to eavesdrop. “Well, that’s because we can see all of The Backworlds any time we like. All we need is the Rose Glass. We can check on Mr. and Mrs. Catlin directly after breakfast.”

  After every crumb was gobbled up and all the dishes cleared by the trio of fairies that Cora had come to know as Corkscrew, Mayfield, and Nod, Serene took Cora to the Rose Glass. They followed one of a dozen corridors that lead from the Great Room. The passageway sloped at a steady decline and then after several hundred feet ended at a spiral staircase. The staircase had wide slate steps that echoed against the soles of Cora’s shoes. As it continued to descend, the stairs became narrower and turned from slate to brick and then finally to packed dirt.

  “Not many people come down here,” Serene said noticing Cora’s stare at the sodden ground. “No need to dress it up just for us.”

  Cora thought Serene’s comment odd as she had imagined everything that surrounded the king and queen would be impeccable and pristine. She was discovering that they held their needs in no higher regard than anyone else’s and she admired that greatly.

  “And here we are—the Rose Room,” Serene announced as the earthen stairs came to an end, “The lowest point in all of Clouden.”

  Despite her warning, Cora nearly plowed into her mother, who had come to a dead stop in a tiny circular room covered from ground to ceiling in vines. The foliage wrapped around every square inch of the room, climbing and creeping, winding itself around neighboring vines creating braided chains of greenery. Soft pink roses dotted the stalks, blossoming at their very peak. Though the foliage brought a distinct odor to the room, the vines were quite beautiful and reminded Cora of home. Had it not been for the peculiar globe at the center of the room that cast a delicate pink light throughout, Cora could have mistaken this as part of the North Woods.

  Serene inched over to the gleaming sphere and plopped herself in front of it, urging Cora to follow.

  “Is that it?” Cora asked, staring hypnotically at the orb.

  Serene gazed with affection toward the bright pink light. “Yes, sweetie, this is the Rose Glass.”

  Cora took a seat beside her mother and crossed her legs in the same fashion as Serene.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Serene comforted, scooting so close to the globe that she was nearly touching it. Cora did the same and found herself looking directly through the floor of Clouden and into the milky-blue sky that divided it from The Backworlds.

  “Have you ever heard the Backworlders talk of seeing the world through rose-colored glasses?” Serene asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, as with most fairy tales and legends of The Backworlds, there is a remnant of truth in those fabled words, which links its way back to Clouden. Indeed there are rose-colored glasses, and though they exist here on Clouden rather than in The Backworlds, they can show us the Backworlders as they truly are.” Serene looked fondly at the orb and then back at her daughter. “You simply ask for what you seek and you will be shown.”

  Cora’s curiosity was piqued. “I just have to ask?” she inquired, studying the Rose Glass, hoping to see something more than the murky outline of land distorted by passing clouds.

  “Just ask.”

  “I’d like—I’d like to see Mr. and Mrs. Catlin,” Cora blurted and then, after thinking for a moment, decided she ought to be a bit more specific. "Mr. and Mrs. Catlin of Harborville, Wisconsin.”

  A hushed hum fell across the room as the mist of clouds obstructing the Rose Glass began to dissipate and the objects below it came into focus. Cora realized that the mounting sound was coming from the rosebuds all around her. Though it was occurring before her very eyes, Cora wasn’t sure when the scene in the glass became sharper, yet all at once she could see the patchwork outline of the fields surrounding Harborville.

  In seconds Cora was able to make out the rows of identical houses that made up her neighborhood. The glass finally came to rest upon one house. Her house. The view suddenly changed again, zooming in past the exterior of the house, and into the Catlin’s living room.

  Mr. and Mrs. Catlin sat, on opposite ends of the sofa, staring blankly at the walls. As the images within the glass came into focus, Cora saw a very different couple than she had a week ago. Mr. Catlin, looked vigorous with a strong, muscular physique, piercing blue eyes, and shiny black hair. Meanwhile, Mrs. Catlin appeared very plain and almost frumpy. She looked like the kind of person that one’s eyes passed over in a crowd.

  Despite their metamorphoses, both of the Catlins were silent and haggard. Mrs. Catlin was wearing a wrinkled shirt and had her hair back in a sloppy knot on the top of her head that let strands fall into her face. She was tapping her fingernails against a dusty end table and staring at an unraveling piece of carpet near the sofa leg. Mr. Catlin didn’t look any better. The pinkish tinge that usually gave his cheeks such a jolly glow had vanished. Having been a somewhat sloppy man in the first place, Cora didn’t notice any difference in his dress but saw a drastic change in his behavior. He was lifeless and nearly gray in color. He looked as if all happiness had been drained from his body. Serene and Cora watched them for a bit, waiting for something to happen.

  “They look awful,” Cora finally said, disrupting the silence.

  “Yes, they certainly do,” Serene agreed.

  “Can we do something?” Cora felt terribly guilty. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the pathetic scene. She had caused this. She had brought them this misery. She was to blame.

  “I’ll talk with your father. I’m sure we could think up something.”

  Cora felt slightly relieved as she climbed the spiral staircase from the Rose Room. As they came to the top of the stairs, Cora promised herself that she wouldn’t forget her parents in The Backworlds. Amid all the wonder of Clouden, it was easy for her to forget what she’d left behind.

  As mother and daughter ascended the Rose Room’s corridor and reached the Great Room they took pause to study the Tree of Life and Balance.

  “You know, I can recall the day your father and I selected our seeds here.” She turned her warming eyes on Cora. “That night, after we planted them together, I dreamt of a beautiful little girl with copper hair.” She smiled and she took Cora’s hand just as a blood-curdling scream shot through the castle like a dagger, chilling them both to the bone.

  “What was that?” Cora asked between trembling lips.

  Serene was nervous, looking frantically around the room. “I don’t know,” she choked out, her face ashen.

  In an abrupt burst of motion, Thomas appeared in the doorway from one of the corridors. He was running toward them, flanked by Celius. Both had wild, panicked looks about them and approached with arms outstretched as if to shield the women from whatever assault may be lurking in the shadows.

  “Come with us,” Thomas instructed, whisking them down another corridor. They were breathless from running; Cora could barely gather enough wind in her lungs to
ask, “What’s going on? Where are we going?”

  “It’s an attack, Miss Cora,” Celius huffed. “Got to get you to safety.”

  Cora wasn’t used to running quite so much. Ms. Cross and the rest of her gym class would’ve been gawking and laughing at her about this time. “But… I… thought… I… was… supposed… to… fight.” She nearly passed out trying to get the words past her lips. “And what about Motley?”

  “Not yet. You’re not ready to fight. And don’t worry about Motley; we’ll take care of him,” Thomas replied with ease.

  The corridor was coming to its end. A bronze door bearing a crown engraving appeared as they rounded the final corner. The door swung open at their approach.

  “This door only opens for me,” Thomas said, shuffling them inside. “You’ll be safe here,” he promised.

  “I’m coming with you,” Serene insisted. There was a fire in her eyes that Cora had never seen before. It was powerful and dazzling.

  “You should look after Cora,” Thomas replied. Serene was already making her way toward the still-open doorway.

  “And what? Leave my husband to die?” she asked, pushing past Celius.

  “You need me, Thomas. I’m coming.” Serene didn’t give the king an opportunity to refuse her. She pushed her way past him out of the room and started walking down the hall. “You’ll be safe here, Cora,” she called back.

  “But I want to help too!”

  “Not yet,” Thomas insisted as he turned to leave. He stopped suddenly in the doorway adding “You can join us when you’re prepared,” and then left, letting the door close behind him with a thud.

  Cora could hear them racing back up the corridor, their feet pummeling the brick pathway until the sounds were so faint that she wasn’t certain if she was imagining them or not.

  “Well, fine!” she barked, plopping down on the floor with a huff. Looking around the room, Cora decided it was more like a cell than anything else. She realized that imprisonment was probably its purpose, particularly because it would only open at the king’s command. The only slightly interesting thing was the transparent floor, which wasn’t nearly as dazzling after seeing it in a number of other rooms.