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

by Jessica Hernandez

  The two princes looked at one another.

  “I prefer to stay close by,” said Warrin, eying the red door. He rocked on his heels and exhaled. “At the same time,” he amended, “I fear that my idleness will only breed useless nervousness and impatience.”

  “A distraction would be most soothing,” added Lyon. “And the townspeople have gathered just around the corner. We would not be far.”

  “Yes. If anything should happen,” began Warrin, turning to Aylin.

  “We will send for you,” she reassured.

  “Elania,” called Lyon. “Won’t you join us?”

  “Alright,” she answered, readjusting her bag—which, thanks to Ani, had grown a bit heavier.

  The two princes escorted the Stone sisters to the enormous building crowning the main street; the sign hanging overhead indicated that they had arrived at the site of Pupayers’ Theatre. Inside, everyone was already seated, and so, the four late-enterers stood near the doors. There were no empty chairs, and the second level, which functioned as a giant, semi-circular balcony, was packed.

  Kaia was right; the residents of Jenio were celebrating what she thought they were. A wrinkled man in a green shirt was up on stage speaking. He introduced himself as Mr. Pupayers. He had a resonant voice and made exaggerated motions with his hands as he spoke.

  “It is said that there came a time when the Creator, growing weary of humans, decided to construct another world; one in which His firstborns would play no part—aside from lending their physical likeness to the new children of His mind. This new land was to be called Acu, in recognition of the three immortal races which were to dwell within it—the Atalileves, the Catrees, and the Utdrendans. Let us today recount the dawn of Acu and the events which led to the introduction of humans,” said Mr. Pupayers. He rubbed his palms together and moved to one of the stage’s corners.

  “When it came time to settle the land of Acu,” he continued, “the Atalileves were the first to be created. Carved from the sun, their skin was that of a silvery alabaster, and their hair and eyes were as white as snow.”

  As Mr. Pupayers spoke, a life-sized, wooden puppet matching the given description marched onto the stage. Incredibly, it appeared to move completely on its own, free of manual manipulation. A barrage of wows and oohs was loosed upon the puppet. Kaia stood on the tips of her toes to get a better view. She snapped her head to look at Elania and the princes. They were equally fascinated. Never before had they seen such a sight! “How?” they asked one another; none could offer an answer. Much to their astonishment, more puppets appeared on the stage in the succeeding minutes—in accordance with the narrative.

  “To them,” continued Mr. Pupayers, “the following charge was given: ‘So long as you shall live, make sure that the land—and all who therein live—know no suffering.’”

  The Atalileve puppet looked upwards and nodded its head.

  “Next, the Catrees were brought forth. The Catrees were made not of human flesh but of a greenish, grayish clay. Their charge was to create. Hence, whatsoever they sculpted from their bottomless bosoms and breathed into took the form—and served the purpose—they so envisioned.”

  The Catree puppet, too, looked up and nodded.

  “The Utdrendans, with their sleek, long locks of ebony, were engendered last. They differed from their siblings in that they had distinctly narrow eyes. This was an absolute must, for they needed to accommodate a second set of eyes; their third eye rested on their left temple and their fourth on the right. This additional set of oculars functioned not as normal eyes do. They permitted the Utdrendans a special sight, one which afforded them a perfect understanding of the past and present. These eyes were to remain sealed at all times, opening only when an Utdrendans needed to fulfill their charge; so long as the Utdrendans lived, they were to serve as counsel to the other races.”

  The Utdrendans puppet nodded, too.

  “For quite some time, the three races led merry, unperturbed existences. One day, however, a couple of Catrees, gazing into the heavens, wondered aloud if there lay anything beyond Acu. Wanting to create a means by which to travel to nearby worlds—should they exist—one of the Catrees reached into its chest. When it finished molding what some would later come to regard as the spawn of its imagination, it tossed its work into a nearby cave, transforming the entire structure into a portal.”

  A hollowed out boulder edged its way onto the stage.

  “Before the Catrees could wade into the abyss, they were stopped by an Utdrendans. It needed not its second sight to determine that the Catrees were acting most unwisely, and so, it insisted that the portal be closed. The three argued for a while, neither side willing to abandon its petition.

  “Suddenly, a foreign creature emerged from the portal—it was a man.”

  The audience cheered.

  “Within a few moments, another came—a woman.”

  Again, the audience noisily applauded.

  “The two spoke of how they awoke to find that the east wall of their bedroom had been completely altered. They claimed that a black, gaping hole, bearing much semblance to the entrance of a cave, stared into their room; save what appeared to be a few inches of dark water, the cave was empty. A most peculiar occurrence! The man told of how he wandered outside and encircled his home only to discover that his abode showed no signs of the change that had taken place within. It was then that, armed with only a candle, he made the decision to venture into the hollow. The woman declared that when she saw no more the flickering light that accompanied her husband’s figure, she called to him, and when he did not answer, she went in after him.

  “Infuriated, the Utdrendans demanded that the Catrees remedy their actions. They worried that letting the humans stay in Acu was dangerous. Though the Catrees yielded in closing the portal, they did not want to part with the humans—nor were the latter eager to leave the wondrous land they had unwittingly entered.

  “As the days went on, the man and the woman, learning of the Catrees’ abilities, began to tell of the fantastical creatures that populated the stories of humans. Much to their delight, the Catrees indulged them and gave form to several of their fancies.”

  A sampling of such creatures—some large, some small—flitted across the stage.

  “Shortly thereafter, the two guests abandoned their plans to return to their world, and this land became their home,” said Mr. Pupayers, speaking slowly and placing stress on each word. “For they found themselves enriched by Acu in equal measure to their enrichment of the land.”

  The puppets left the stage.

  Mr. Pupayers rose to a standing ovation. “Thank you! Thank you! A very special day indeed,” he said, shaking his head and pursing his lips. “Now, let the festivities continue outside!”

  The Stone sisters and the princes allowed themselves to be carried back out onto the main street. They looked in the direction of the red door. It remained closed. Pelliab and Aylin still loitered about it.

  The crowd moved towards the baker and the butcher’s shop. Music was playing—of the kind which first affects one’s feet and then, gradually, the rest of the body until one is entirely intoxicated and forgets all except lightheartedness. Instantly enraptured, the residents of Jenio broke into dance. None danced in place. Rather, pairs pranced around, traversing the length of the road.

  The Stone sisters and the princes had quite the tolerance and were not made drunk as quickly as were the rest. An island amongst tumultuous waters, they held still and watched.

  An energetic, young man with straight, flaxen hair grabbed Kaia by the arm. “Dance with me?” he asked, whilst trotting away with her.

  “Certainly,” obliged Kaia.

  Kaia interlocked her fingers with the young man’s and followed his lead. Crossing arms, they circled one another and spun around rapidly. They skipped, too, and kicked their feet up, touching heels. Children leapt through the street, green ribbons in their hands. Some simply ran, watching the ribbons tirelessly chase them.
Others swirled them, making shapes in the air with the stringy strips of cloth.

  Kaia noticed that Elania and Lyon were nearby, playfully dancing together. She looked for Warrin; arms behind his back, he only watched the revelry.

  “I must go,” said Kaia, stepping away from the flaxen-haired man.

  “Must you?” he asked, leaning in.

  “Yes,” she returned. Kaia dug her way to the lonely prince and held out her palm. A mischievous smile took hold of her face. Warrin calmly, and almost lethargically, grasped Kaia’s hand. She yanked on his arm, as if to break the bonds of sobriety, and glided closer to the stage—closer to where the music came from.

  Warrin and Kaia watched the other dancers and mimicked their movements. The pair moved awkwardly at first, always a few steps behind the rest. Kaia chortled at their lack of grace and rushed through the steps, trying to catch up. The prince’s eyes lit up at the sight.

  Facing one another, Warrin and Kaia straightened their arms, increasing the distance between them. They then swiftly closed the newly-formed space. Warrin spun Kaia and pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms around her. Kaia felt herself grow warm all over. The other dancers began to circle one another, but Warrin kept Kaia in his arms. He held her tightly and unabashedly, as if dislocation freed them from all eyes, from all judgment, from all expectations, granting them freedom.

  The song ended. Another began. Warrin gently squeezed Kaia before releasing her. Lyon and Elania came to stand beside them.

  “Should we return to Mr. Curalden?” asked Lyon.

  “It has been a while, hasn’t it?” said Warrin, clearing his throat.

  “Neither Pelliab nor Aylin have come, but still.”

  “We should go,” said Elania.

  The other three nodded. The princes and the Stone sisters zigzagged their way through the crowd. Warrin held his hand out behind him. Kaia clasped it.

  ***

  “Nothing?” asked Warrin.

  “Nothing,” answered Pelliab.

  Kaia sat along the wall opposite the closed, red door. She thought of the prince. Why had he held on to her as he had? What did it mean? Kaia was unsure if he had hugged her to comfort himself—as a child clutches its blanket during a storm—or to demonstrate a growing fondness. She hoped it was the latter. To gain a friend, in itself, is a gift. To gain one in such an unfamiliar, treacherous land is a blessing.

  Mr. Curalden opened his front door. “He’s going to be fine. I cleaned and dressed the wound. He will need rest—plenty of it. You are not from here, are you? Where are you heading? North? How far? Don’t want to say, eh? If it’s more than a town over, it’s too far for him. Yes.”

  Warrin and Lyon entered Mr. Curalden’s home, shutting the door behind them. They reappeared a few minutes later.

  “We have arranged,” said Warrin, “for Bennett to stay here in Mr. Curalden’s care.”

  “Excellent. Can we go now?” asked Pelliab, dusting off his clothes.

  “Yes,” answered Lyon.

  “How long will they have him for?” asked Elania.

  “We gave a hefty sum. It should be enough for at least a month.”

  “And then?”

  “As soon as we can, we’ll come back for him.”

  “I think the fastest way out is through the main street,” said Pelliab.

  “Does he know that we are leaving him?” asked Aylin.

  “Yes. He was awake when we went inside,” answered Warrin.

  “Barely,” added Lyon.

  “Enough to understand what we told him.”

  “If we do not start moving,” said Pelliab, “dusk will encroach upon us and we will be forced to spend the night here. We will have wasted a day.”

  “It is only midday,” said Lyon.

  “He’s right,” said Warrin to his brother. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Maze

  “Nahv, such celebrations—is this in every town?” asked Lyon.

  “I am to know?”

  “It isn’t a holiday in Darlbent. Is it in Greyland? No? And in Zavonia? There neither?”

  “Nothing is a holiday in Darlbent,” said Warrin.

  “Nothing besides Coronation Day,” corrected Pelliab.

  “Now that I put my mind to it,” continued Lyon, “this day doesn’t so much as have a name in Darlbent. Nahv, what is it called here?”

  “Day of the Grand Ingress,” she answered dryly.

  “Those puppets—”

  “They moved without being moved?” asked Nahv.

  “Yes! Are many puppets like that here in Mar?”

  “It wasn’t the puppets.”

  “What wasn’t the puppets?”

  “The talent. It’s Mr. Pupayers.”

  “All he did was narrate.”

  Nahv rolled her eyes and twisted her face. “Who moved the puppets?”

  “They moved themselves.”

  “Don’t be absurd.”

  “It wouldn’t be the strangest occurrence in Acu,” defended Lyon.

  “So Mr. Pupayers moved the puppets?” asked Kaia. “How?”

  “By willing it,” said Nahv.

  “He’s gifted?”

  Nahv nodded her head. “It resides in the eldest living Mr. or Mrs. Pupayers. When they die, the ability passes to their eldest child—and then to theirs when they die, and so on.”

  “Can they will anything to move?” asked Warrin.

  Nahv shrugged her shoulders. “I have only the basest knowledge of the Pupayers. Everyone knows of them, few know them. They are constantly travelling through Mar, giving performances.”

  “Imagine if they could,” said Lyon. “Warrin would undoubtedly benefit from such a gift.”

  “Why do you say that?” asked Warrin.

  “You can’t have already forgotten about Majesty.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone lose their seat so fast.”

  “You exclude yourself, of course.”

  “No, not at all! Majesty but hiccupped and you took flight.”

  “Not true.”

  “Do I lie?” asked Lyon, looking at Elania, who shook her head demurely. “See! Elania agrees. You have many strengths, Brother—riding is not one of them.”

  “She is not agreeing with you. She shakes her head at you.”

  “How mistaken you are.”

  “You know, you, too, would stand to gain from a gift similar to Mr. Pupayers’.”

  “I don’t see how. Such a gift would be redundant.”

  “Oh! Would it?” asked Warrin.

  “Absolutely.”

  “If that were true, you would have played back in Ricaan.”

  “Nothing could have compelled me to join; it would not have been fair, and, in all likelihood, perfection would have aroused suspicion.”

  “Suspicion of what?”

  “Of my honesty.”

  “Did you two live together in Darlbent?” asked Kaia, giving voice to a question that she’d had since after Ashner’s death and Raelon’s transformation.

  “Us two?” asked Lyon.

  “Yes. All of King Robert’s wives and unmarried children live under his care,” answered Warrin.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “You seem…close,” said Kaia.

  “An affection only recently kindled, I assure you. Not because we previously disliked one another; we simply weren’t really acquainted.”

  Aha! I was right! Well, partly, thought Kaia.

  “We lived in different wings of Dalcahz,” said Warrin.

  “And on different levels,” added Lyon. “It happens when you have as many siblings as we do.”

  “King Robert must boast quite an impressive castle,” said Elania.

  “He does.”

  “Aylin, are we near?” asked Warrin, taking note of the map in the Speaker’s hands.

  “We will hopefully be there by tomorrow,” she answered.

 
; All chatter ceased. Nonetheless, it grew louder—relief, worry, and nervousness clamored within each member of the expedition, resulting in an overwhelming crescendo. Joy intermingled with uneasiness.

  “We will all stay together afterwards, won’t we?” asked Lyon sullenly. “I know that you have a home to return to, Nahv, but the rest?”

  “I, of course, will stay with you,” said Warrin.

  Elania, Ani, and Kaia looked at one another; they discreetly raised their eyebrows and dipped their heads, coming to a silent agreement.

  “Us three will, too,” said Elania.

  “Aylin?” called Warrin.

  “Alright,” she answered dejectedly.

  “Alright?”

  “Yes.”

  Elania, who was walking beside Aylin, reassuringly patted the Speaker’s shoulder.

  “Pelliab?” called Lyon.

  “I don’t think so,” answered the kingsman.

  “Why not?”

  “Why yes? It is unnecessary for us to stay together beyond tomorrow, and I do not desire the company.”

  “Should your opinion change—” began Warrin.

  “It won’t.”

  “If it should, you are welcomed to join us.”

  ***

  It was brighter than usual—much brighter. All in the kitchen looked as though it were awake for the first time, infused with life. Kaia attempted to pare the two tips of the potato that she held in her hand. Her arms trembled whilst she pushed down on the knife. It would not go through. She withdrew the blade and inspected it. Father will need to take this in for sharpening soon, she thought. Lucking upon another knife, Kaia continued her task. She hurried, for she wanted to finish before her mother returned so that she, herself, could start the cooking. Mrs. Stone had developed an intense obsession with basting food in honey, and Kaia wanted a change. Her tongue begged for a meal moist with juices and herbs.

  “Kaia,” called a voice.

  “Taria? Taria!” returned Kaia.

  No one answered.

  Kaia continued peeling the potatoes, figuring that she had imagined the voice.

  Someone called once more. It was definitely her sister.

  Kaia rose from her seat and went into her bedroom. In the wall furthest from her, there was an arched opening. A path, bordered by a tall hedge, was on the other side. Kaia grew in height by a couple of inches. No, Taria first. In there I shall not find her; she is most wary.