Capering on Glass Bridges (The Hawk of Stone Duology, Book 1)

by Jessica Hernandez

  BOOK ONE OF THE HAWK OF STONE DUOLOGY

  BY

  JESSICA HERNANDEZ

  Copyright © 2015 by Jessica Hernandez

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means—neither for commercial nor non-commercial purposes—without the written consent of the author; this book remains the copyrighted property of the author.

  Contents

  Chapter One—The Pairing Ceremony

  Chapter Two—An Unexpected Invitation

  Chapter Three—Voyage to the Capitol

  Chapter Four—Revelations

  Chapter Five—Fiaru

  Chapter Six—Setting Sail

  Chapter Seven—The Point of No Return

  Chapter Eight—The Incomplete Transcription

  Chapter Nine—Unexpected Encounters

  Chapter Ten—The Meadackers

  Chapter Eleven—The Black Field

  Chapter Twelve—The Day of the Grand Ingress

  Chapter Thirteen—The Maze

  Chapter Fourteen—Enbeck

  Chapter Fifteen—King Sol

  Chapter Sixteen—Beginnings

  Chapter Seventeen—Kionar

  Chapter Eighteen—Tivmica

  Chapter Nineteen—Pelliab

  A Note to the Reader

  Chapter One

  The Pairing Ceremony

  “I told you,” whispered a sniffling Taria.

  “Patience,” commanded Mr. Stone, widening his unblinking eyes as he spoke. His cold tone made his youngest daughter feel as though she had been struck in the back with a thorny whip; she grimaced, dug her nails deep into her palms, bowed her head, and extended her shoulders forward, desperately trying to break away from the pain.

  Dissonance. Kaia could not think of a more appropriate word to describe her sister’s Pairing Ceremony. Ismena’s Isle, which had only ever known nightfall, was gently illuminated by a benign, blue light. Its trees had luscious, impregnable canopies and slightly bowed, green-streaked trunks which measured as wide as three men standing shoulder to shoulder. It was simply ethereal, yet Taria looked as though she was preparing to meet death. The young girl’s unsteady, porcelain hands betrayed the storm raging within. They took turns twisting and wringing one another; they busied themselves with her hair, parting it down the middle and draping each half of golden wool over her shoulders; and they ran down the length of her white dress, smoothing the fabric all over. They did what her heart bid—and her mind forbade—her feet to do. She fears that her ceremony will end as did mine. How foolish! Soon her torture will be over, thought Kaia, recalling that canonipoms can sense when their partner is approaching the isle; for them, the connection is palpable from birth. They cannot resist the draw. Somewhere in the forest, Taria’s canonipom was chasing the pull. Meanwhile, the Stones waited.

  Mr. Stone stood closest to Taria; he was a few feet behind her. He held his hands to his back and wore the same frozen, solemn expression as always. His perpetual austerity had led many in Fiaru to regard him as a man of no feelings over the years—callous, even. Kaia knew that such an assessment was lacking in truth. If Mr. Stone came across as emotionally frigid, the cause was not ineptitude but decorum; propriety requires complete restraint when venturing outside the home, or so he would say. Hence, in his eyes, Taria’s behavior was of sufficient cause for embarrassment. Kaia knew that much to be true, and she derived a strange sense of pleasure from her sister’s deficiency—a pleasure that momentarily intensified after she recognized signs of absolute woe in Taria’s face.

  A pang of guilt made Kaia go cold. What inappropriate desires! They were not borne of spite. She simply did not want another reminder of her incompleteness. Kaia knew that it would happen regardless, though, and that, in minutes, she would officially be the only person in her family to not have been paired.

  A rustling.

  Was someone approaching? The blindfolded Taria cocked her head, as if to sharpen her ears, and held perfectly still. Kaia scanned the area. Something moved energetically from tree to tree. Was it Taria’s? It descended rapidly. A thud was heard…and then scampering feet…and then…nothing, save the trickling of a nearby brook. Taria’s shoulders dropped in disappointment. The wait continued.

  The chipper Mrs. Stone, made more excited by the false alarm, rubbed her palms together. She was planted beside Mr. Stone. Her pink lips were stretched across the width of her face, growing narrower near the center under the pressure of her gnawing. She was a bit more transparent than was her husband—a mechanical human she refused to become—and had been both looking forward to and lamenting Taria’s Pairing Ceremony for quite a while. My doll is to be ten years old already! Ah! This is likely to be the last time I visit the isle, for I have no more children, she had observed. But if I’m not paired, Taria had countered, I, too, shall be allowed to try again. Won’t I? And then you shall go once more. Feeling old sores reopen, Kaia banished the memory of that conversation and looked to her side, where stood Elania.

  Kaia’s elder sister Elania was the calmest and most composed of the group. Her eyes were half closed. She was slowly dozing off, yet she did not fight it in the slightest. Kaia narrowed her eyes. She was surprised that Elania—the most sympathetic of the Stone sisters—was not at all perturbed by Taria’s inquietude. Then again, Elania had echoed Kaia’s sentiments in the weeks leading up to the ceremony. She knew that there was no reason to harbor any qualms. What happened to Kaia, Elania had reassured, happened because of that, not for any other reason; therefore, the youngest Stone was, without question, safe from a similar fate.

  A disturbance. Something moved.

  Kaia noticed a human-like, ash-skinned figure emerge from a thicket. The others saw it, too. Nellie, bouncing with joy, hugged Mrs. Stone’s leg before bringing her interlocked hands to rest beneath her chin. Flashing a welcoming smile at the stranger, Ani closed the distance between herself and Elania. Abe, true to Mr. Stone’s wishes, maintained his composure, detachedly studying the newcomer as he stood with arms akimbo.

  It had Taria’s features—a high forehead, wide-set eyes, a perfectly pointed nose, and petite lips. It was, undoubtedly, hers. Not yet fully grown, the creature—scarcely over a foot tall—was a few inches shorter than Abe, Nellie, and Ani. Aside from that, it was like any other canonipom. It was very thin and had a spherical head with large, round eyes, razor-sharp teeth, and pygmy ears. It had claws, too, and feet resembling hands. More than half of its height was accounted for by its legs, and its arms were nearly as long as its lower limbs.

  “Taria, kneel down,” instructed Mr. Stone. She did as she was told.

  Taria’s canonipom looked into the face of every member standing in the assembled crowd prior to approaching the girl. Its gait was tight, and it moved with hesitation.

  “Bow low to the ground,” ordered Mr. Stone.

  A hairsbreadth separated Taria’s face from the sod. As soon as she felt her canonipom’s slender fingers start to undo the knot behind her head, she stopped shaking and let out a subdued, fragmented laugh. Once unveiled, Taria brushed her hands across her face and blinked furiously, trying to dry her eyes. She offered her upwards-facing palm to the creature before her. Just like that, their bond was sealed at first touch.

  “Can you hear her, Taria?” inquired Mrs. Stone, motioning to her head.

  “Yes,” she squealed.

  “What is her name?” asked Elania.

  Taria’s lips were still. There weren’t too many options; a canonipom’s name is always derived from that of its human’s
. Divining Taria’s thoughts, the canonipom shook its head twice before nodding enthusiastically.

  Kaia felt a surge of anger wash over her. Her sudden change in demeanor caught her by surprise. She took notice of it only after her thumbs cracked under the pressure of her clenched fists. Awareness opened the door to shame, and Kaia’s cheeks instantly became inflamed. Water began to flow from her eyes. Panic set in; she could not let her family see her. Kaia bent over, pretending to be occupied with the laces on her shoes. She thought of her face and attempted to calculate how much time was needed for the blood to drain; that only made things worse. Wait, she remembered, it’s too dark. They won’t be able to discern my color. And if they see the tears, let them think that joy is the culprit.

  “Ree. Her name is Ree,” said Taria.

  Chapter Two

  An Unexpected Invitation

  The days following Ree’s arrival passed in relative quiet—that is, until one particular afternoon when an unexpected message arrived for the family.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Goodness, Taria, ask Ree yourself if you don’t believe me. They have no want for shoes. They just get in the way,” said Mrs. Stone, as she set the table.

  “Little brown shoes would just go splendidly with her pink frock,” returned Taria, her fingers busy fashioning a floral wreath for Ree.

  “Where’s Dad?” asked Elania, looking to her mother as she entered the kitchen.

  “The Inwoods called on him.”

  “The Inwoods?”

  “Osic is ill,” interjected Taria.

  “Well, that’s unfortunate. Is it serious?”

  “It must be,” speculated Mrs. Stone. “They plan to cancel their trip to Alai. I heard Mr. Inwood say so when he came for your father.”

  “Poor boy.”

  “Yes. Poor Mrs. Inwood, too. She’s had this trip planned out for quite some time. It was for her sister’s wedding, you know.”

  “I didn’t, actually.”

  “And everything was set. They were to take the Wakes’ horses to the Greens’ home, spend the night there, spend the following night at the Lakes’, and then meet Ms. Treeborne—Mrs. Inwood’s sister—the day after.”

  “Kaia!” shouted Taria, as her sister made her way into the room. “Accompany me to the square after we eat,” she begged, straightening her back.

  “What need have you to go there?” asked Elania.

  “To buy linens. I am going to make clothes for Ree.”

  “You?”

  “I intend to purchase just a few pieces of fabric,” said Taria. “I only want to try my hand.”

  “You have tried your hand. You can barely embroider a handkerchief.”

  “That’s different.”

  “How?”

  “Because…because embroidering I am bad at. This I shall be good at.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes!”

  “Well, at least Ree will never come home with empty arms,” quipped Elania. “Coins and food will be tossed at her feet as she passes through town. Nothing moves hearts as does a homeless canonipom.”

  Giving form to words, Ani jumped up onto the table and placed a gold coin into Ree’s palm whilst wiping away an imaginary tear.

  “She won’t look homeless,” growled Taria.

  “Not if you buy her clothes already made.”

  “Elania,” called Mrs. Stone. “Help me move these bowls to the table.”

  Taria’s insensitivity irritated Kaia. She found it cruel that her sister would have her witness joys and excitements that she, although she desperately wanted to, would never experience. Why Taria couldn’t ask Elania to accompany her, Kaia didn’t understand. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to denounce Taria’s audacity and inconsiderateness, but desire would have to be curbed. Kaia was being studied more closely than ever; she noticed that her face was scrutinized, albeit unobtrusively, at all times—especially when she interacted with Taria. It had started after the Pairing Ceremony. She knew what her family was looking for, and she would not let them find it. For this reason, Kaia, after her sisters’ bantering came to an end, mustered the perfect balance of indifference and civility and agreed to go to the square; had the intensities been higher or lower, or had a different pair of behaviors been chosen, she was convinced that her deceit would have been found out.

  A shrill creak cast the entire household into silence. The four women turned to face the front door.

  “Barnaby! Back so soon? How’s Osic?” asked Mrs. Stone.

  “He’ll be fine,” said Mr. Stone.

  “So the Inwoods will be travelling to Alai after all?”

  “No. The boy can’t travel yet.” Mr. Stone crinkled his nose. “Fish?”

  “Yes! The Foxs passed by a short while ago. They brought it over as a belated birthday gift for Taria.”

  “Hmm. Thoughtful.”

  “Don’t worry.”

  “Why would I?”

  “The food.”

  “Hardly cause for anxiety, Parnell.”

  “Must you always do that?”

  Mr. Stone took his seat at one of the table’s shorter sides, playfully winking at Taria. Abe sat down next to him, drumming his fingers and rolling his eyes as he centered his plate.

  “All I meant was that I made you your usual,” said Mrs. Stone, setting a plate of chicken before her husband. “Your boring, unvaried—”

  “Yes, yes.”

  Mrs. Stone pulled out the chair opposite Mr. Stone and began to chatter away. She sang praises of the superior taste of a fish cooked with wine and ginger over that of one marinated with garlic. She could not fathom why anyone would choose to prepare the dish in the latter fashion, especially when both methods required about the same amount of preparation time. Then again, she continued, not everyone wants to spoil perfectly good wine on fish. They’d much rather bathe their stomachs in it instead, she said, shaking her head.

  Mrs. Stone’s monologue was cut short by a deafening clap of thunder. Craning her neck, Kaia peered out the open kitchen window. She had noticed the room gradually growing darker, but she hadn’t realized why. Taria dropped her shoulders as Elania rose and drew the wooden shutters. The market would have to wait.

  ***

  “Shall we play a game?” asked Taria, once the table had been cleared and her parents had left the room.

  “What do you have in mind?” asked Kaia.

  “I don’t know. Anything. The Matching Game?”

  “We are missing some of the cards,” said Elania, bringing her head to rest on her hands.

  “The Pilfering Blind?”

  “That’s an outdoors game,” reminded Kaia.

  “Tens?”

  “Better played outside, too.”

  “Tens can be played indoors. We won’t cause a disturbance,” said Taria.

  “That isn’t the issue,” said Elania.

  “Then?”

  “Not one of us will score more than a single point.”

  “Why not?”

  “Do you think it will be easy to find ten of one thing inside this house?” asked Elania, pulling taut a few strands of her dark, curly hair. “Outside, sure; you can gather rocks, leaves, sticks, flowers, berries, pine cones, and whatnot. Indoors, you have clothes, bowls, and that’s about it.”

  “Fine. How about Storyteller?”

  “Alright,” said Kaia with a shrug.

  “Elania?”

  “Sure.”

  Taria dashed out of the room. When she returned, she placed a deck of handmade cards—for Storyteller was a child of Elania’s imagination—on the table and passed the three dice to her right. “Eldest to youngest.”

  Grinning, Ani leaned forward. With parted lips, Ree looked up at Taria, bewilderment in her eyes. Kaia imagined the exchange taking place between the two.

  Elania rolled an eight and drew the card with the picture of a lady. “My eight words are: There once was a young woman…named Mel.”

  “Who
lived all alone in a brick house,” continued Kaia.

  “One day, Mel…laid an egg.”

  “She laid it? Really? You couldn’t have her find an egg or stumble upon it?” suggested Kaia.

  “Anything goes,” insisted Taria, cocking her head defiantly. “Besides, that last one would have been seven words—I rolled a six.”

  “Alright,” conceded Kaia, holding her hands out in front of her.

  “Not an ordinary egg,” resumed Elania, “but a black one encased in vines which grew from within.”

  “Telling no one of its existence, Mel placed the mysterious egg in a wooden crate laden with straw.”

  “When it finally hatched, it was not an animal that emerged, but a door.”

  “Mel opened the door and was transported to…an unfamiliar, poorly lit room…with a lake in the floorboards.”

  “Leading into the lake was a bridge.”

  “And in the lake was a man. No! Wait! I’m short by one word. And in the lake was a drowning man.”

  Kaia noticed Ree, whose hand had fallen onto Taria’s knee, make a fist and wince.

  “Grabbing him by the hand, Mel tried pulling the man to safety, but the waters swallowed him.”

  “Recoiling from the water’s edge, Mel noticed a post by the bridge.”

  “It had an arrow, reading ‘Home,’ pointing towards the bridge.”

  “Another person entered the room; she had Mel’s face.”

  “How?” interrupted Taria.

  “I drew the card with the mirror,” clarified Elania.

  “My turn,” said Kaia. “The newcomer removed her bonnet and crossed the bridge, but she, too, struggled in the water.”

  “The girl eventually drowned…because whenever Mel came close to grabbing her, a swarm of bees drove her back.”

  Something moved. The kitchen shutters had been opened. Kaia noticed a dark figure in the corner of her eye.

  “Go get Dad,” Elania said to Taria.

  One of Kaia’s earliest memories starred the creature standing before her. Believing it to be a flower, she had picked one up as a child. When she did, what she had confused for a spiraled stem started to unravel, revealing two thin legs; what she had mistaken for stamen began to fuse together, giving shape to a thin, elongated beak; with a quiver, the bulb showed itself to be a small—disproportionately so—body; and what she had erroneously identified as petals turned out to be feathers, into which the creature had tucked its annular head. To be two things and, yet, one thing, to be as awesome—in the truest sense of the word—in one form as in the other, that was what fascinated Kaia about flirds.