Whole in the Clouds

by Kristine Kibbee

  On the outskirts of the grove, Thomas suggested a picnic lunch, and the trio stopped beneath the outstretched branches of a massive tree with a lilac trunk to lay out their food.

  “How do these things just grow up out of the clouds?” Cora asked, examining the tree.

  “Ah, now that’s a good question,” Thomas chimed, obviously proud of her curious and inquisitive nature. “The answer can help you to learn about the very origins of Clouden itself. You see,” Thomas began. “There was a time when fairy tales existed not only on Clouden, but in The Backworlds as well. In these days before the birth of Clouden, all manner of magic existed in The Backworlds. Yet, the Backworlders took advantage of the gifts that Nala gave them.”

  “In The Backworlds you’d have called her Mother Nature, Cora,” Serene quickly interjected.

  Thomas smiled, reached toward his wife, and squeezed her hand. “As I was saying…the Backworlders abused and neglected the good fortune that Nala had given and evil blossomed in their hearts. Now, I grant you, Nala is benevolent but she was angered by the pain and suffering the Backworlders caused through the misuse of her gifts, so she spited them with evils akin to those inside themselves.

  “She took from them the magic and light that they had so abused and replaced it with the harsh realities of cold, sickness, and age.” Thomas now had a hollow look in his eyes but continued on. “But like I said, Nala was not cruel, only just. By way of the Rose Glass, she saw a handful of innocent, good-hearted people in The Backworlds and watched as they suffered against the plagues that she had created. She felt great remorse at having set such hardships upon them.

  “To appease her guilt, Nala bid the Rose Glass to select from The Backworlds one man, the most pure-hearted of them all. It was this man whom Nala took atop the clouds and gave two gifts, the first of which was the Rose Glass and the second, a single seed. She directed the man to use the eye of the Rose Glass to select those whom he felt the most deserving of a life free from the pain and misery that now existed on The Backworlds, and bring them to Clouden.

  “Most importantly, Nala instructed this man to plant the seed she had given him in the center of the Cloud and promised that all life and balance would spring from it, so long as the true of heart were near. The seed grew into a massive and magical tree, which the man built his castle around; that in turn gave life to Clouden, and to all that you see around you.” At this Thomas made a sweeping motion to the Grove and beyond. “And though no one knows what his name was in The Backworlds, the new king of Clouden took the name of Finnegan, Finnegan Nimbus.”

  “So the Finnegans have looked over Clouden ever since, huh?” Cora’s chest was swelled with pride.

  “Indeed. And we’ve done a fine job of it, I’d say!” boasted Thomas.

  Serene was growing visibly restless. “All right, you two, enough of this storytelling business! We did enough of that back at the castle. Let us get on and enjoy the day!”

  Thirteen: The Shorn Horns

  Cora breathed in the beauty of the day as it drifted by on a warm, perfumed breeze. She bathed in the sunlight, its heat warming her to the core. Her heartbeat thumped in rhythm with Orion’s footsteps.

  “Hey there.” Thomas’s voice pierced through his daughter’s sleepy haze. “You all right?”

  As Cora’s lids lazily opened, she realized she was partially resting on Orion’s great feathered wings. “Jeez, yeah, I’m sorry,” she replied, to Orion as much as Thomas.

  “That’s all right, go nighty-night!” Orion sung. He was clearly pleased to be providing such a relaxing ride.

  Cora continued to soak in her surroundings. She found herself even more enamored by each peculiar sight as they passed it. Her eyes darted from an incandescent butterfly with wings as big as dinner plates to a shimmering violet pool that played host to a canoe race between tiny mice in acorn shells.

  “The Valley I spoke of is coming up fast; its natives are shy and its beauty is vast!” Orion announced.

  “Orion’s right,” Thomas added from just a few paces ahead. “You’ll be lucky if you see a unicorn at all while we’re in the valley.”

  “And why is that?” Cora asked, her words dripping with disappointment.

  Thomas politely requested his mount to fall back and was soon right alongside Cora and Orion. “Well, the truth of it is,” he explained, “unicorns don’t normally trust new people. In fact, they don’t trust people much at all.”

  Orion, not to be excluded from the conversation, chimed in, “But unicorns are right to any blame that they lay. ’Twas humans who stole all their horns away.”

  Cora looked from Orion and back to Thomas. “Humans stole their horns?”

  “Yes, that’s why they came to Clouden,” Thomas admitted. “Much as the Backworlders seem to do with all that Nala has given them, they abused the unicorns. They took what they wanted from the poor beasts without any regard to the repercussions.”

  “But why would people want to steal their horns?” Cora envisioned the mythical white creatures of her storybooks being stripped of their beautiful horns. She recalled passing many a white horse in a Backworlds field and now wondered if perhaps they had ever possessed a horn at one time.

  “Ah, you know how some people are,” Thomas lamented. “If they see something special, they’re either afraid of it or are envious. They wanted to have the unicorns’ magic for themselves and took it by whatever means necessary.”

  “And?”

  “And the horns brought with them only misery and grief. But by the time the Backworlders had that bit all figured out, the remaining unicorns had already fled to Clouden.”

  “Cora,” Serene called, “up ahead, look! Unicorn Valley’s waterfall sea!”

  Cora’s eyes rose to a cascading waterfall that seemed to rise out of the very clouds themselves. It was saddled by two mammoth, spiraling horns of silken-white. Between them the water flowed all the way from the tips to the bases. Sparkling dust in a rainbow of colors sprung from the site where the waterfall impacted with a crystal-blue pool that lay just beneath. Cora could make out a faint song imbedded in the crash of the falls. It sounded like tinkling glasses accompanied by the resonating ring of a wind chime being gently blown by the breeze.

  “Get ready, get set. We’re gonna get wet!” Orion exclaimed as he dashed toward the falls. Cora didn’t get the opportunity to object before she found herself flying through the air toward the water, Orion’s massive wings flapping hard, scooping up great helpings of air beneath them. Straight toward the waterfall he flew, bidding Cora to “hold on tight, it’s got a cold bite!”

  Cora clenched her eyes tightly as water saturated her body. The water pummeled her ears and chilled her bones. And then just as quickly as it had begun, the assault stopped, and Cora suddenly and unexpectedly felt a warmth so strong that it seemed to blow her dry. She opened her eyes and looked down to find that her clothes didn’t show a trace of wetness.

  Cora raised her head to pan the scene in front of her and found that the beauty of Unicorn Valley quite literally took her breath away. There was a gentle light filtering in through the trees that cast a supple haze throughout the entire valley, and it seemed to make every flower, branch, and shrub more magical than those of The Backworlds. Thickets of heather and patches of lavender dotted the landscape and playfully complemented the lilies, tulips, and daisies that sprung from every imaginable spot. Even the breeze had a flowery sweetness to it. Sprites whizzed through the air, looking like tiny spots of light, trailing magical sounds of chimes behind them.

  Orion’s voice cut through Cora’s thoughts, calling out, “Jasper, Lily, Lear, get your behinds out here!”

  No response.

  “Come on you scaredy-cats, come on out. The princess is not gonna hang about!”

  They were met with more silence.

  “Come on, Jasper! Come on, Lily! Now you’re just being really silly! And hey, just there, behind that tree. Is that a cowering Lear I see?”

  S
ure enough, about fifty paces ahead Cora spied the outline of a horse’s head peering from behind a large maple tree. His wide eyes caught hers and quicker than a flash he was back behind the tree again. What he’d neglected to consider was the fact that the maple tree, though large, was not nearly as large as a horse and Cora could see his bottom sticking out the other side of the trunk.

  Orion shouted with a chuckle, “You’re not so good at hiding, Lear. I reckon I can see your rear!”

  Lear was frozen. He couldn’t run and yet he’d been seen. Cora could almost hear the wheels turning inside his head, his slow heartbeat doubling in pace.

  “Aw, quit pickin’ on him,” came a voice from close by.

  Orion looked around, searching the valley for the voice’s owner. “Jasper, that you? Are you hiding too?”

  “I’m not hiding,” returned the unicorn that appeared before them. He was long legged and lean with a look of vitality and youth. If Cora had looked too quickly she might have missed his spiraling ivory horn, but she would never have been able to mistake him for an ordinary horse. There was a glow radiating from him, much like the one that blanketed the valley itself. Cora now realized what it was: magic.

  “My oh my, Jasper, you’re getting good. Invisibility seems to work better than wood!” Orion exclaimed with a smirk in Lear’s direction.

  “And who is this?” Jasper asked with an air of importance.

  “Might I present to my friend,” Orion began with the best bow he could muster under the weight of his rider, “the beautiful Princess Finnegan.”

  Jasper looked taken aback. His defensiveness faded as he knelt to a bow. “Forgive my rudeness, princess, it’s only that we unicorns are—”

  “It’s okay,” Cora said soothingly. “Orion told me. I understand.” Feeling very humbled, she returned his bow as best she could atop Orion’s back and raised her head to the sight of two more unicorns standing beside him. One she immediately recognized as the petrified Lear and the other was very delicate and feminine. Cora felt certain that this was Lily. Both glorious creatures knelt in a bow and introduced themselves. Lear’s knees were shaking, and in an empathetic gesture Lily stepped in front of them, shielding him from view.

  Thomas made a deliberate cough just behind her, reminding Cora that she was not the only Finnegan in need of introduction. “Oh, so sorry. These are my parents, King Thomas and Queen Serene.” She fumbled with a motion behind her. The unicorns seemed equally impressed and bowed in unison.

  “Why you three don’t seem too awfully shy,” Cora observed aloud, trying hard not to look in Lear’s direction.

  “Well, we’re the youngest here,” admitted Jasper. “We were all born on Clouden so the only knowledge we have of humans is that which was passed down through stories. The Shorn Horns, on the other hand, aren’t likely to come out, even for royalty.”

  “The Shorn Horns?”

  “Remember, Cora,” Thomas piped from behind. “The unicorns whose horns were taken.”

  “The horns were stolen,” a new voice declared. This one came from deeper in the valley.

  “Who is that? Is that you, Gypsy?” Jasper called into the dense underbrush behind him.

  Another unicorn appeared near a patch of violets in the bed of the valley, about one hundred feet away from them. He was visibly older than the other three, and walked with the weary burden of old bones. He had a long silver goatee dangling from his chin and tresses of hair grew around his hooves, where the younger unicorns had none. As he got nearer, Cora noticed his horn had a thin gray line tracing the base. “That’s my scar,” he said, watching as her eyes lingered on the mythical horn, “from where they took it.” Cora quickly averted her eyes and looked instead at the mossy ground beneath Orion’s hooves.

  “Have no shame, princess. For what men have taken from me, Nala and the goodness of Clouden have restored,” he proudly declared.

  Cora raised her gaze to meet the ancient unicorn. His eyes were a haunting, pale green and swam with flecks of clay, like fallen maple leaves washing across the surface of a cloudy lake. “My name is Gypsy,” he offered and walked even closer. “And I’d like to show you something.”

  Cora looked to the king, questions swimming in her eyes. Gypsy too was looking to Thomas for approval and he responded with a nod to both, urging them on. Still apprehensive about doing so, Cora slid from Orion’s back and walked toward the ancient unicorn, who dropped his head at her approach.

  “Place your hand on my horn,” Gypsy directed.

  Cora obeyed.

  “Now close your eyes and come with me.”

  As Cora’s eyelids closed she found herself transported to a memory. She could see a much younger Gypsy. As her vision panned out, Cora noticed that he was standing in a vast field of wheat with several other unicorns. A great mountain capped in snow was visible in the far distance. Based upon his surroundings, Cora suspected that Gypsy was in The Backworlds. He and his herd were munching away peacefully, a soft summer wind blowing at their manes and tails, when a peculiar noise mounted in the background.

  As the sound grew louder, the unicorns began to raise their heads to glance around. The rumbling raged on and on until it was so great that Cora felt whatever it was, was surely almost on top of her. At its zenith, Cora realized the noise was the sound of hooves pounding the ground. She suddenly saw the figures of dozens of men on horseback whizzing by her. The men surrounded the grazing unicorns and slid out of their saddles, toting swords and menacing stares.

  Gypsy was standing at the forefront of the herd and looked to one of the men with confusion. “What do you wish of us?” he asked.

  “We’ve come fer yer horns,” the hard-faced man boldly replied.

  Gypsy’s demeanor rapidly shifted from benevolence to confusion and finally to fear. He looked to the rest of the herd with panic, only to see similar expressions spread throughout. “What? Why?”

  “We’ve heard they’s full of magic and power. We want ’em!” the grizzly fellow spat, motioning his small army ever-nearer the unicorns.

  What followed was an image that Cora would carry for the rest of her life. Just as if she’d been there herself, Cora watched in frozen agony as the troop of men cut the magical horns from each and every unicorn in the field. Blood as red as the deep crimson of a fully blossomed rose flowed from the heads of the beasts as they fled toward the mountain––stripped of their beauty and power in one single strike. Cora opened her eyes to find her face soaked with salty tears. The cruelty of the men was so great that it made her feel ashamed to be part of the same race.

  A visibly concerned Gypsy began nuzzling Cora, rubbing the tears from her face with his fur. Cora wrapped her arms around him and squeezed so tightly that she afterward worried she might have hurt him. “I’m so sorry,” she blurted out between sobs. “How could they?”

  “No, it is I who am sorry, princess,” Gypsy said soothingly. “I have not shown you these images of my past to upset you but only to help you to understand it.”

  “I understand what happened”—Cora choked, still holding tightly on to him—“but I don’t understand why.”

  Gypsy gave a weary sigh. “It’s the nature of men, or at least some of the men of The Backworlds. There is a great emptiness in their hearts and all too often they want to fill that empty space with power. They will do whatever is necessary to get it.”

  “But wasn’t there another way?”

  “I’m sure there was, but you see, unicorns are quite different from the rest of earthly creatures The Backworlders don’t like things that are different…things that they cannot understand or control. Their minds are too narrow and so they revert to their primal instincts to destroy and possess all that they do not understand.”

  “But things are quite different here,” she said, smiling through her tears.

  “Why, yes, they are,” Gypsy agreed.

  Fourteen: Strike from the Shadows

  As they left Unicorn Valley behind, Cora felt wiser some
how. She twisted around on Orion’s back, waving good-bye to all the creatures she now considered friends and felt warmth swell inside her.

  Now that the party was headed to Pegasus Plain, Orion was determined to convince Cora of its superiority over the Unicorn Valley. Sensing her annoyance, Serene trotted up alongside the pair to offer a break. Once she was close enough, she leaned in close to Cora. “What did you see?” she whispered. “What did you see in the unicorn’s eyes?”

  “Oh,” Cora replied, “I saw…well, I guess I saw a massacre.”

  “Oh, my,” Serene’s face dropped. “Must’ve been the Massacre at Mountain Valley.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, Gypsy is one of the oldest of the herd. He was victim of the first attack by the men of The Backworlds—the Massacre at Mountain Valley. That was before the unicorns knew men as enemies,” Serene explained.

  Cora studied the edge of the valley as they traced the pathway that ran around it. She was fondly reminded of the quaint forest near her Backworlds home where she’d first met Celius and learned of her magical ancestry. She spied a particularly average-looking maple tree and stared diligently at it, searching for some sign of a unicorn booby-trap that might be lurking nearby. The brush on either side of the tree was thick and mottled with shades of deep green and brown. Cora squinted and peered through the dense foliage, hoping for a glimpse of what lay beyond but instead spotted a man’s face—a gnarled, cruel face that was painted so heavily with dirt and filth that it melded in with the rest of the underbrush. Cora gasped at the unexpected sight and recoiled at the man’s hideousness. Yet in an instant he was gone. Her gaze swept through the thickets, trees and bushes but the only sign of movement came from a crisp leaf, twirling toward the ground.