“Would you?” asked Kaia.
“Of course!”
“I am going to change,” said Elania.
“Why?”
“I am going to Mrs. Heldair’s,” said the eldest Stone sister, rising from her seat and going into her bedroom. Kaia, Taria, Ani, and Ree followed.
The younger Stone sisters sat on their beds, conversing with Elania whilst she got ready.
“I envy you,” said Kaia.
“Why?” asked Elania. The redness was already beginning to fade from her cheeks.
“When you grow up, you’ll be more than just a wife and mother.”
“Why would you want more?” asked Taria, making small circles on Ree’s back with her index finger.
“You look forward to staying in a house all day giving lessons to your children?”
“Yes. You don’t?”
“I never said that. I just…I would like more.”
“What exactly do you mean by more? Midwifery?” asked Elania.
Kaia bit her lips. Her forehead wrinkled.
“Really? Oh! I didn’t know. Why haven’t you ever said anything? I could ask Mrs. Heldair—”
“No! Don’t do that.”
“But maybe she—”
“Bad idea, Elania,” said Taria.
“It would make us look inconsiderate,” said Kaia. “Even if she were to agree, Father would look indebted.”
“Mrs. Heldair would be taking two under her instruction while Father would be taking one—Chrison.”
“Then I could teach you,” said Elania.
“Really?” asked Kaia. “You’re a student yourself.”
“And? Whenever I go to Heldair’s, you and I can make arrangements for me to teach you—that very same day—what I learned.”
“I don’t know.”
“When I start practicing on my own, I’ll take you with me; you’ll be my student.”
“You’re going to get in trouble,” warned Taria.
“No, we won’t.”
“That’s not how it’s supposed to be done.”
“Don’t mind her.”
“I never do,” said Kaia.
“So, what do you think?” asked Elania.
Kaia remembered the expedition. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Nonsense!”
“Truly, forget what I said.”
“First lesson is tonight,” said Elania, patting Kaia’s shoulder as she exited the room.
Chapter Six
Setting Sail
The day following Masci’s visit, Mr. Stone—as per usual—was with Chrison and a patient. For the Stone women, however, it was a day of inversion. Mrs. Stone, who normally ran errands unaccompanied, decided to take Elania with her to the tailor. Masci had sat well with her, and she was hoping that she and her daughter would cross paths with him. Coincidentally, this was the very reason that Elania, who generally relished strolling through the market, was now nervous. Kaia, who had been left in charge of Taria’s lesson in her mother’s absence—a duty that she typically wasn’t fond of—was happy to have something to occupy her mind. And Taria, who dreaded her daily lessons, was thrilled to have a teacher who would, undoubtedly, be more lax than her mother.
“Where did you and Mama leave off?” asked Kaia.
“Can we practice writing?” asked Taria.
“Is that what was planned for today?”
“I don’t know. I just thought that you could recount the story of Ismena. Ree would enjoy that.”
“You still haven’t told her?”
“Not really. Only a few fragments. I always forget the little details and what everyone said.”
“The dialogue,” corrected Kaia.
“Yes, that. Well?”
“Has Mama dictated this story to you before?”
“I can’t remember.”
“Yes you can.”
“And what if she has?”
“There is no value in redundancy.”
“It won’t be redundant. Remember, Ree hasn’t heard it.”
“Taria.”
“Kaia.”
The elder Stone sister sighed. “Fine, but if Mama—”
“I know. I know.”
“And not a single error.”
“Alright,” said Taria, enthusiastically wetting the tip of her quill pen.
“Tell me when you are ready.”
“I am.”
Kaia cleared her throat and began to relate the familiar tale, pausing after each sentence.
“Long ago, a most peculiar baby was born in the Kingdom of Veete—Ismena was her name. She was different not in form—for she had two eyes, four limbs, a mouth, and a nose—nor in disposition—here she was quite unextraordinary, too—but in condition. A few days after her birth, Ismena’s skin assumed a most unnatural, pinkish hue and became riddled with lesions and blisters. Baffled, her parents sought help from those well-versed in treating the ill.
“The first doctor they visited speculated that Ismena had quite simply abandoned her mother’s womb too early; her skin had not had sufficient time to develop. ‘This child must be fortified,’ he proclaimed. ‘Nurse her with the milk of a mighty beast. Yes! That will make her strong, and that will help her skin thicken.’
“Neither the milk of cow nor that of ox produced any noticeable improvement. And so, Ismena was taken to another doctor. This second one was convinced that the girl’s sheets were the culprit. ‘They are irritating her delicate skin,’ said he. ‘I have seen it before. Wrap her in silk; that should rid her of this malady.’
“The silk was no more effective than was the milk. And so, Ismena’s distraught parents took her to the wise man—who came to be known as such not by virtue of his own excellence, but after rumor circulated that he had once lived amongst Utdrendans. ‘Do you know of he wanting in legs and feet?’ asked the wise man. ‘He with the split tongue who eternally goes this way, then that way, then back again this way because he knows not whether to keep left or right? Your daughter shares his affliction. Do not be worried; within a few days, the skin you see before you will be loosed of her tiny frame, revealing a more becoming one.’
“When Ismena failed to shed her blistered skin, her father returned to the wise man, who insisted that the parents be patient. Enraged, and doubting the sagacity of his advisor, the father spat out his frustration in resounding cries. Alarmed, a passing blacksmith intervened. ‘Take her to my brother,’ he urged, upon learning of Ismena’s condition. ‘Oliver will know what to do. Never has there been a person that he could not fix.’
“After several days of travel, Ismena, cradled in her mother’s arms, was delivered to the blacksmith’s brother. ‘She must be confined to the indoors,’ he declared. ‘Do not let the sun’s light fall upon her.’
“Returning home, Ismena’s parents did as they were bade. Much to their elation, their daughter’s condition began to improve. It was not long before Ismena looked quite like any other baby, and, judging her to be fully healed, her parents moved her from the house. Almost immediately, however, the girl’s skin—to the horror of all who bore witness—began to rip apart; her affliction was a permanent one.
“As per Oliver’s suggestion, special gowns which covered all save Ismena’s eyes—those could still be seen through two narrow holes that had been cut into the upper extremity of all her garments—were made for the girl. Concealment worked for a while, but as Ismena grew older, she became unable—and unwilling—to tolerate being covered from head to toe in the sweltering heat; she developed a habit of tearing away at her clothes.
“‘Take her away from here,’ recommended the blacksmith’s brother. ‘Move your family to the island just west of Jarzim. None live there, for an eternal shadow is cast upon the land. There, it is always night. There, Ismena will be free to wander about without fear of her skin growing raw.’
“With Oliver’s promise secured to visit periodically and check in on Ismena, the family left Veete.
�
��One day—several years later—an Atalileve happened to be sailing past the desolate land mass that Ismena and her parents had claimed for themselves. The suffering there must have been mighty, for the Atalileve abandoned his course and made for the isle. He found the young girl languidly strolling about.
“Though Ismena’s heart longed for many things, solely one of her unsated desires brought her unduly pain—this, the Atalileve knew, but, still, he probed. Why she did not wish to be restored, to move as the others did, and to frolic beneath and in full view of the day’s star, he did not understand. Though it may sound strange to some, Ismena had, quite simply, grown fond of the dark. She dwelt in the dreamer’s domain. Another existence she could not fathom.
“His curiosity satisfied, the Atalileve put his palm to the ground and created a black, viscid pool. From its depths emerged a creature fairly human-like in form—the first canonipom. It was to serve as far more than a mere friend to Ismena. It was to serve as her complement, her counterpart. Never again would Ismena know loneliness, nor would her descendants.”
Feeling a sudden draft, Kaia paused and looked up. The front door was open. Mrs. Stone, Nellie, Elania, and Ani entered.
“Girls,” greeted Mrs. Stone.
“Mama,” returned Kaia and Taria.
“Elania, lay those out on my bed,” instructed Mrs. Stone. “I want your father to see. He thought they were irreparable!” Humming, Mrs. Stone tended to the hearth and looked inside of the pot atop it. “Almost ready!” she said, as Nellie threw in some spices. “Are you two done with the lesson?”
“Nearly,” answered Kaia.
“Well, go on. Don’t let my presence interrupt.”
Kaia and Taria stared at one another, afraid to resume.
“Turning his attention to the miserable, overgrown, little island,” said Kaia, glancing in her mother’s direction, “the Atalileve pressed his lips to the ground. In an instant, the land transformed.”
Mrs. Stone reached into the pot and stirred its contents, humming again.
Kaia relaxed. “Gone were the unruly shrubbery and the thin, dull protrusions which called themselves trees. The island transformed in name and form; it became spectacular. Seeing that his work was done, the Atalileve retired.
“And so ends Ismena’s story—the part relating to the creation of the canonipoms, that is.”
Ree applauded softly and smiled tenderly.
Elania exited her parents’ bedchamber and made herself comfortable in the sitting room.
“Let’s see,” said Kaia, extending her arm to grab the parchment that Taria had been writing on. “You misspelled baffled. It’s b-a-f-f-l-e-d,” said Kaia, making a note in the margins. “Sufficient is wrong, too. There is no ‘u’ in fortified. Malady should have a ‘y.’ What is this, Taria? Why so careless?”
“I tried. It’s just, I haven’t practiced with the words that you used.”
“Sagacity is wrong. Hmm. You misspelled affliction here and then spelled it correctly here. Languidly is wrong. Unduly is wrong. Descendants has a ‘c.’” Kaia made the last of her marks and returned the parchment to Taria. “Learn these words,” she said.
Kaia left her seat at the dining table to sit beside Elania. “How did a trip to the tailor turn into such a lengthy affair? Weren’t you just going to pick up the clothes?”
“Mama’s day has turned out divinely, precisely as she had hoped.”
“Masci Colwin?”
“Yes. His mother saw us passing and invited us into the inn.”
“And?”
“And nothing. Masci and I hardly spoke a syllable. It was they—Mama and his parents—who would not stop talking.”
“Did you two just stand there listening to their conversation?”
“Like a pair of children waiting for permission to speak. I must have looked mad.”
“Why?”
“Do you know how difficult it is to fake a smile? At times, I found myself smiling with my mouth but not my eyes, so I would immediately widen them as much as I could. I think I only succeeded in making myself look shocked; Masci went like this whenever I made that face. Yes, yes, laugh. The entire length of our visit, I felt Masci’s eyes on me, which only made me grow more uncomfortable. Why he couldn’t just follow the conversation is beyond me.”
“Well, you must have been looking at him, too, if you know what faces he was making.”
“I felt his eyes. I couldn’t altogether disregard him. That would have made me look standoffish and rude.”
“I take it that your opinion of Mr. Masci Colwin remains unchanged.”
“No, Kaia. After today’s encounter I feel that I can now confidently profess my ardent love for Masci. We were finally able to see one another’s essence. We are feverishly in love! My heart aches for him in our separation,” she declared, sinking into her seat.
Ani placed her hands over her heart and coiled up in Elania’s lap, as if in pain.
“Of course my opinion remains unchanged,” said Elania.
“So, will you tell me of the delivery?” asked Kaia.
“Oh! Now you want to know.”
“You came home too late. I was sleepy.”
“What will you do when you have a nighttime delivery? Births don’t only occur during the day.”
“Obviously.”
“We will have to dedicate some sessions to making you more resistant to sleep. Now, about yesterday,” said Elania, scooting to the edge of her chair. “Mrs. Heldair put me in charge of the delivery.”
“Really?”
“Yes! She was there, of course, but I was the one who delivered the baby.”
“Were you nervous?”
“Most definitely. I was not expecting—”
Mr. Stone opened the front door and entered with Abe; they were not alone.
“Girls,” said Mr. Stone.
“Father. Chrison,” greeted Kaia and Elania.
“Chrison will be joining us for our midday meal.”
“Lovely!” said Mrs. Stone, setting an extra place at the table. “Elania, Kaia, come. The pottage is ready. Taria, put that away.”
Chrison was the son of shoemaker Nortt Heldair and midwife Mineel Heldair. He was a lot like Mr. Stone in that he was a person of few words. Like Mr. Stone, his terseness was not the product of shyness; it was born of the belief that little is more becoming than silence and that words often soil. Hence, the two men got along exceedingly well, and Mr. Stone rather enjoyed keeping Chrison’s company—even beyond the necessary.
Kaia was torn. Part of her was glad that her family was unaware of the fact that what was possibly one of their last meals together was underway. She was convinced that, had they known, she would have been met with a flurry of opposition, anger, and sadness—all for naught, for she would not be dissuaded. Yet, at the same time, their oblivion denied her entrance to do what she desperately wanted to do—to hold them each in her arms, to kiss them, and to tell them how much she loved them.
This way, Kaia told herself, I shall be the only one to suffer the agony of an impending separation. This way, I can spare them, even if only a little. Telling will do no good. Besides, I don’t want their support, because if things go wrong…. Their being opposed will make it easier for them should I not return; the blame will be mine and only mine. Yes, I must keep silent. Hush.
***
Kaia got out of bed quietly and began to prepare her bundle. The entire household was asleep, or so she thought.
As Kaia dressed, Ani hopped onto her bed and held out a pair of breeches. Startled, Kaia jumped back. She searched the dark for Elania’s bed. Her sister was standing up.
“We are going with you.”
“What?”
“We know. We heard you the other night.”
“You can’t come.”
Elania pulled a bundle from underneath her sheets. “I have only to change out of this gown.”
“Elania, no.”
“It will only take me a minute—”
“Stop.”
“Ani and I are going, Kaia. You cannot change that. Either we will go with you on the ship that the Zavonians have sent, or we will go on our own, cutting through the Dead Forest to get to King Richard’s.”
“You will do neither! Think of Mama and Dad. Think of Taria. It would be most cruel and harrowing if they were to lose us both.”
“Have you given any thought to what will happen if the Marians fail to right the wrongs? Because I have. You will be forced to live out the rest of your days in a forsaken land, all alone. Do you not realize how cruel and harrowing that would be? To know that you wander a foreign land, surrounded by strangers—perhaps if I loved you a bit less, I could find comfort in that. And I can assure you that Mama and Dad—if they knew of your intentions—would be at greater peace with both of us going than with you going alone; this way, if the curse is not lifted, you shall not be by yourself.”
“I know that you want to do this for me, but you behave irresponsibly! You have commitments.”
“Everyone will understand,” said Elania, as she dressed.
“Why must you be so stubborn?”
“I am not stubborn. Present a good argument for why I should stay and I shall.”
“Did you hear none of what I said?” asked Kaia, perplexed.
“Those weren’t your reasons, were they?” said Elania with a sly smirk.
Kaia, continuing to dress, snapped her head at her sister. “Your coming isn’t necessary. Only two people were named, and you weren’t one of them!”
“Lower your voice lest we wake the whole house,” whispered Elania. “That has no bearing on my decision. Plenty of people who weren’t named are going. I shall add to their numbers. Now, are you ready?” she asked, leaning towards their room door.
Scant on time, and recognizing that the battle had been lost before it had even started, the disgruntled Kaia joylessly resigned herself to the inevitable; Elania was to have her way—nothing could be done to secure the opposite.
***
As Kaia, Elania, and Ani made their way to the front door, they unexpectedly ran into Mrs. Stone. She had a handkerchief in her palm and Nellie at her side.
Capering on Glass Bridges (The Hawk of Stone Duology, Book 1) Page 5