***
“What was that, Barnaby?” asked Mrs. Stone, once the family had settled into the familiar communal room.
“They ambushed us, Parnell.”
“Oh!” she said, as she threw her arms in the air.
“Yes! They lured us in on the pretense of dining together, only to inform us that they want us to sacrifice our daughter so that they may remedy the effects of an utterance that they never should have made.”
“Do you know what we must look like?”
“You misplace your focus.”
“The councilors of Zavonia! We just walked out on the councilors of Zavonia!”
“What would you have had us do, Parnell? Huh? Tell me!”
“We could have indulged them and spent the night.”
“Unto what ends?”
“Etiquette, or have you abandoned that?”
“Would you let them toy with your daughter in the name of etiquette?”
“Goodness, Barnaby! Of course not!”
“Neither would I. I would not have them affect her mind and appeal to her empathy in order to try to elicit a sense of duty within her. No! It is not right. I was only trying to protect her,” said Mr. Stone.
“This was something that we should have discussed as a family.”
“Don’t,” warned Mr. Stone. “This has nothing to do with that.”
“You are blind to that which you do not want to see, Barnaby.”
“And you wrongly assign meaning to things which sometimes have none.”
“This—”
“Enough!” yelled Mr. Stone. “Enough.”
Kaia paid only partial attention to her parents’ argument. With the initial shock having faded, her mind was restless. She had a difficult time attaching a name to her feelings. She felt herself seized by several at once; whenever one managed to assert dominance, it was promptly supplanted. Some emotions blurred into others, becoming no more than a shadow of a thing. Two, however, she was ultimately able to recognize. The first was Fear. Peril had learned Kaia’s name, and it beckoned her loudly, in full view of the world. If she walked away, she risked scorn. Would she not be called selfish? Would she not be considered a coward? Not only by others, but by herself, too. Yet, if she met Peril, she risked hurting those who loved her most; she could be stuck in Mar indefinitely, never to see her family again.
The other was Satisfaction. At last, that unbearable hunger had been satiated! Soon she would have something of her own, something which she could devote herself to. She was confident that the pieces were finally coming together. Despite what her father had said, this did have to do with that. This was her purpose—it had to be, for it was the only way that any semblance of sense could be imported onto her situation. Given that, how could she ignore the task? She did not want to, and there were sure to be consequences if she did. She had been chosen to go to Enbeck long before the Zavonians were privy to such information. Why the message had to be delivered by specific people, however, she did not understand. What had she to offer that another could not match or exceed? Surely the answer would be made apparent at some point, she thought. She would discover it.
Chapter Five
Fiaru
It was the family’s first day back from Zavonia, and, still, a tension remained. All thought of the same matter. None spoke of it. Mrs. Stone set a plate before Mr. Stone and took her seat at the table.
“Barnaby, is it true that the Whisheps and the Broncays have swapped sons?”
“Yes.”
“My! I never would have imagined. Are the boys the same age?”
“Nearly,” said Mr. Stone, as he chewed. “The Whishep boy is seven. The Broncay boy is eight.”
“So young for their parents to be making such a decision!”
“Apparently both boys had quite the distaste for their father’s occupation.”
“Mr. Broncay is to be the last carpenter in his line, then, isn’t he? Didn’t he swap his eldest son with the Inwoods a few years ago?”
“Daddy, weren’t you swapped?” asked Taria.
“No,” answered Mr. Stone.
“Wasn’t your father a stonecutter?”
“When I was a boy, Mr. Dockheal’s son, Sofer, died. My father was good friends with Mr. Dockheal, so he asked him to teach me his trade. If my father had taken one of Mr. Dockheal’s sons under his instruction in return, then it would have been a swap. But physicians seldom ever swap. Their occupation is one that many covet.”
“You swapped with the Heldairs,” said Taria, looking at Elania.
“That was different.”
“Did you want to be a stonecutter before you took Sofer’s place?”
“I was prepared to do whatever was required of me.” Mr. Stone paused to swallow his food. “I have some news,” he announced.
Abe was smiling. Something has happened, thought Kaia. Could it concern…no. Nothing regarding that could possibly bring him joy, save the dropping of the matter altogether. Father is quite content casting the past few days into oblivion.
“Well, let’s have it,” said Mrs. Stone.
“I spoke to Hervey Colwin today.”
“Who’s that?” asked Taria.
“The innkeeper.”
“Oh,” said Mrs. Stone.
“Surely you girls have seen his son before—Masci Colwin.”
The three sisters shook their heads.
“Well, he seems to have taken notice of you, Elania.”
“Of me?”
“Yes. It is my understanding that you have quite an admirer in Masci Colwin.”
“I can assure you that I have done nothing to encourage his affections.”
“A boy likes Elania?” asked Taria jubilantly.
“He is a most agreeable young man,” said Mr. Stone. “He should make a worthy match for any young lady.”
Elania shifted in her seat. Her face flushed as she lowered her eyes.
“I have invited Masci to join us tomorrow afternoon.”
Mrs. Stone pushed her plate away. “You have made a match? Without—”
“I made no promises, Parnell. I only—”
“You know very well what you did, Barnaby. He is in search of a wife, isn’t he?”
“She turns eighteen this year. She is of age. The Colwins are a family of good fortune and fine repute.”
“We know nothing of them.”
“That isn’t true. You are only upset because I did not come to you first. There was nothing I could do. I cannot control when opportunities present themselves.”
Mrs. Stone sighed angrily.
“Hervey was an intimate friend of mine when I was a child. If Masci carries but a crumb of his father within him—”
“Fine.”
Mr. Stone leaned forward and dropped his head, searching for Mrs. Stone’s face. “No decisions have been made,” he said, grabbing her hand and grinning. “I have only arranged for a meeting to take place, nothing more.”
The room fell quiet.
“I think I should go,” said Kaia.
“Go where?” asked Mrs. Stone.
“To Mar.”
Mrs. Stone gasped.
“What?” asked Taria with a squeal.
“No,” objected Mr. Stone.
“All I have to do is deliver the message,” said Kaia.
“No!”
“Dad, please. I don’t think that I can contend with the knowledge that thousands are condemned because of my inaction.”
“The Marians are condemned because of their crimes.”
“My inaction keeps them so.”
“I will not lose you…not again—especially not to another’s wrongdoings! And you wanted to stay overnight,” said Mr. Stone, addressing Mrs. Stone. “Do you see what they did in the short time they had her? You never should have been present at that meeting, Kaia.”
“I know what could happen. I have given thought to everything. I know, and I am prepared to accept the consequences.”
; “No, you are not. Idea and reality are oceans apart.”
“Is it not my choice?”
“No.”
“You will impose your will on me?”
“Most definitely.”
“Then I reckon that I shall grow resentful of you!”
“I regret that. Still, it is preferable to the alternative.”
“Dad—”
“Kaia, I implore you, forget the Zavonians. Forget what they told you. Surely the Utdrendans can help them pursue other options—ones which will not throw into turmoil the life of a child.”
***
Kaia lay on her side, facing the wall. Sleep eluded her, which was fine, for she did not desire it. She was too busy retreading her earlier thoughts over and over again. It was impossible to stop. She weighed implications against implications until opinion solidified into fact.
She was certain that she had made the right choice. Yes, absolutely certain—solitude had allowed her to ensure as much. Kaia’s mind grew still as she made peace with her decision. Her ears rang. How loud and cacophonous her thoughts had been.
Turning over, she noticed that the moment she was waiting for had arrived; Elania, Ani, Taria, and Ree were asleep. Kaia jumped out of bed and, kneeling on the floor, reached under her bunk and extracted the yellow and orange flird. It was still in its floral configuration. A most well-trained flird, indeed, she thought. Kaia took her index finger and ran it from the base of the stem to the bulb. The ‘flower’ unraveled. Kaia unfolded a piece of cloth that she had concealed underneath her sheets and broke apart several pieces of bread, which she then offered to her guest. It took small bites, eating rather slowly. Kaia grabbed a wooden cup—filled with water—and set it down on the floor. After the flird had had its fill, Kaia looked about her once more before giving it her instructions and message.
“You cannot be seen by my family,” she warned. “Tell the councilors that Kaia Stone says the following: I would very much like to go to Mar and help in any way possible.”
Kaia opened her bedroom window, and the flird leapt into the air. Knees to her chin, she sat on her bed, waiting. A gentle breeze blew into the room. Worried that her sisters might be disturbed by the sudden influx of cool air—and subsequently find her awake—Kaia lay down. She did not, however, cover herself with her sheets; she was too anxious.
Her guest returned. “And your parents?”
“They know of my desires, not of my intentions.”
The flird left once more. It was gone for quite a while. Kaia wondered if the councilors would allow her to go to Mar in spite of her parents. Perhaps that’s why they are taking so long, she thought. They either cannot decide or are split. Kaia’s eyes grew heavier. She shook her head and rocked her body, trying to keep herself awake.
At last, the flird returned. Kaia estimated that it had been away for at least an hour. “A ship will be waiting for you in Fiaru’s main harbor two nights from tonight,” said the messenger. “Aylin Spokehwel and Thomas Zealston—along with the rest of the expedition—will meet you.”
Kaia smiled in relief. She went to stroke the creature but stopped short. “Do you have a name?”
“Insee.”
“Insee,” repeated Kaia. “How long are you to stay with me for?”
“Indefinitely,” she responded, her voice hoarse.
The Stones had never before owned a flird. More often than not, they were the recipients of messages, not the senders. It was for this reason that Kaia was particularly excited by Insee’s announcement.
“Would you prefer to stay outside until it’s time to go? Alright.”
The wooden floor felt cold against Kaia’s unclothed feet. She let Insee out, shut the window, and then skipped into bed.
***
“Kaia, do me a favor. Pass as Elania Stone for today,” said Elania, fidgeting with her hair.
Nellie appeared in the doorway. She clapped her hands and snapped her fingers at the girls, ushering them out of the bedroom.
“Don’t be nervous,” said Kaia, nudging her elder sister as they made their way to the sitting room.
“Masci Colwin,” said Mr. Stone, “these are my daughters—Taria, Kaia, and Elania.”
Masci Colwin had a ghastly pallor to his long, angular face. He had restless eyes that were constantly shifting—as if he were afraid to look in one direction for too long—and light, floppy hair which stuck to his feverish forehead. Kaia realized that she had seen him before; she simply hadn’t known his name. Elania’s eyes widened in pleasant surprise; she recognized him, too.
“Ladies,” greeted Masci, with a tilt of the head.
“Please sit,” said Mrs. Stone, smiling. “So, how are your parents?”
“They are well.”
“That’s good. Busy, I suppose.”
“Yes, very busy.”
“I’m surprised that they agreed to part with you.”
“As am I. Especially since I have no siblings to assume my load in my absence,” said Masci, pushing his hair out of his eyes.
“You have no siblings?” asked Taria.
“None.”
“That is horrible. How lonely that must be.”
“Taria!” growled Mr. Stone.
“Not when you live in an inn,” said Masci, the edges of his lips curling upwards. “You are constantly surrounded by people. They do not give you a chance to grow lonely.”
Kaia encouragingly elbowed Elania.
“You must meet people from every corner of Acu,” said Mrs. Stone.
“That would be grand, but no. Most of our guests are from Greyland.”
“Are they?”
“Yes. I dare say the majority are travelling to Ismena’s Isle.”
“And they stop at the inn on their way there.”
“Precisely.”
“Hervey has one of the most enviable of locations for an inn in Greyland,” said Mr. Stone.
“He would agree,” chimed Masci.
“Tell me, Masci—I am curious—any unpleasant characters ever wander past your father’s threshold?”
“A few have come in and acquired beds before payment—on their word, of course—only for Father to learn after they had slept and been fed that they were travelling moneyless.”
“Dear,” muttered Mrs. Stone.
“Father never loses, though. He always collects. Such lodgers are the reason that he’s come into possession of as many interesting—and valuable—items as he has.”
“Is that so?” asked Mr. Stone.
“Yes. From precious jewels to impressive weapons, it has all passed through Father’s hands.”
“He sells them, then?”
“Some. Others he keeps.”
The room grew quiet. Kaia pushed her sister again.
“Have you any pastimes, Masci?” asked Elania.
“No, I haven’t. I don’t have much leisure time.”
“Elania enjoys crafting stories,” said Mrs. Stone.
Elania snapped her head in her mother’s direction.
“Do you?” asked Masci. “I should very much like to hear one.”
“They aren’t exactly stories,” said Elania.
“Of course they are!” insisted Mrs. Stone.
“Mama.”
Masci waved his hand. “Forgive me. I did not intend to pressure you, Elania. I misspoke. I meant only to express my hope that I might, in the future, have the privilege of hearing a tale of yours. How refreshing it would be to hear something new and, I’m sure, ingenious.”
The Stones and Masci Colwin continued for some time. Nothing of great importance was discussed. Rather, the Stones were gauging Masci and he them. When it came time to part, Masci inquired if he might return again in a few days. Mr. and Mrs. Stone agreed that that would be most delightful.
“Elania, I have something for you,” said Masci. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a folded piece of paper. He offered it to Elania, his hand shaking. “Your praises.”
“How very th
oughtful of you,” she said.
Masci hesitated for a moment before turning around to take his leave.
“I will walk with you, Masci. I have a patient that I must tend to in that direction,” said Mr. Stone, as he stepped outside. “Chrison! Have you been here long? You should have knocked.”
The three men left.
“What does it say?” asked Taria, rushing at her sister. “Hurry up and read it!”
“Calm down,” said Elania, as she dawdled towards the kitchen table and sat down.
“Aloud!” ordered Mrs. Stone.
“Leave her,” said Kaia.
Elania pressed the letter against the table, smoothing its creases. “It reads: ‘I have watched you from afar. Many times you have passed through the market with your sisters and walked by my father’s inn. I have watched you from afar. You are kind, and you are gentle. Your hands have wiped away many a tear, and your lips have kissed away many a sorrow. You are kind and you are gentle. Warm and enchanting is your smile. The mere hint of one on your lips has made the cold leave my limbs and my worries dissipate. Warm and enchanting is your smile. You are eloquent and you are intelligent. How unlike the others you are; how effortlessly and elegantly you give voice to your thoughts. You are eloquent and you are intelligent. I wish to watch you from near. I have watched you from afar for much too long. I wish to watch you from near.’”
Elania quickly refolded the letter. “Well, my behavior today does not speak to half of these,” she complained.
“Nonsense! You were anxious, as was he,” said Mrs. Stone.
“He only offered you three praises,” said Taria. “Isn’t it supposed to be five?”
“He doubled the second and fourth sets,” defended Kaia. “That makes five.”
“Elania, what do you think?” asked Mrs. Stone.
“He is endearing.”
“He looks ill,” said Taria, “and he has no canonipom.”
Kaia looked menacingly at her younger sister. “Hush,” she commanded.
“Do you like him, Elania? As a husband, I mean.”
“I have only just met him, Taria. I wouldn’t be able to say one way or the other.”
“If a marriage were to take place, you’d leave the countryside. I’d have an excuse to frequent the market!”
Capering on Glass Bridges (The Hawk of Stone Duology, Book 1) Page 4