Kaia opened her parents’ bedroom door. It was unchanged. Nothing was out of place. The bed was where it belonged, as were the dresser, the carpet, and the lonely corner chair. Seeing that the quarter was empty, Kaia entered the sitting room and made for the front door. She wanted to look for her sister outside, but the door would not open.
“Kaia!”
The sound came not from outside. Kaia ran into her bedroom. Has Taria ventured in there on her own?
The voice called again.
She has!
Kaia stepped through the archway. Her gait was loose as she walked, and her arms swung freely by her side. She seemed to have stepped into some sort of maze, for when she came to the end of the hedged-in path, she was presented with two more identical passageways. She yelled Taria’s name. There was no answer. Neither path seemed to offer more than the other. Kaia stuck to her right.
When she came to the end of the second path, she stayed to her left and then again to her right when that one went no further. The end of the fourth way brought Kaia to an open area filled with trees of purple, pink, and white flowers.
The wind blew, ushering dozens of flowers to the ground; so many had already fallen that the dirt was scarcely visible. Kaia closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The smell was not overwhelming. It had an understated sweetness to it. Kaia advanced a few feet before stopping to pick up some of the flowers. She knew not what she would do with them, nor why she wanted them; she desired to have them on her person anyway.
A shadow appeared beside hers. Kaia snapped her head up. There was no one in the vicinity. How odd! She returned her attention to the ground. The shadow remained there. Just like hers, it, too, stooped low. Kaia let her fingers graze the floor. The shadow touched her shadow’s arm. Kaia let a surprised gust of wind escape her mouth. She felt no one touching her. The shadow made a swooping motion with its hand as it backed away. Kaia followed it, first at a walk and then at a dash.
When the shadow disappeared, Kaia was no longer amongst the flowering trees. Only the hedge was in sight before her. She turned in tight circles, looking for the shadow. Seeing that it was gone, she decided to continue marching ahead.
After Kaia had travelled down several more paths, she came to another open area. It was not as inviting as was the first. The sky was filled with dark, menacing clouds from which countless lightning bolts extended. The bolts appeared to be frozen in place, with one end touching the sky and the other touching the ground; they were not, however, so densely packed so as to deny passage. Able to see where the hedged-in path started again on the far end of the clearing, Kaia decided to enter.
There was something both beautiful and terrifying about the scene. Kaia drew near one of the white bolts. Miniscule specks the size of dust particles moved within it. She lifted her hand and then, lowering it, made a fist. What would contact feel like? She had seen how easily lightening could split a tree. Were these bolts like most others? They definitely didn’t behave like normal lightning bolts. She passed her hand through one.
A piercing pain travelled up Kaia’s arm as she was blown backwards. She screamed out and buried her head in the ground, groaning and breathing in puffs. Kaia looked at her arm. No damage had been done to it. The moment she realized that, the pain subsided.
With great care, Kaia rolled over and navigated her way out of the clearing; she had no interest in spending any more time in the company of the bolts. Once safe, she threw herself on the ground and brought her knees to rest underneath her chin. Where had Taria gone? How large was the maze? Perhaps she should have made a left. Perhaps she should have waited.
The voice.
“Taria! Taria, stay where you are. I’ll go to you.”
Kaia ran as fast as she could, following the voice to an elongated, ivory-colored room with a giant looking glass for a floor. Thick columns lined the edges of the chamber—which, aside from something shaped like a short pillar that loitered in its center, was largely empty. Kaia called out to her sister. There was no response. Taria could not be far off; her voice had echoed through the maze just seconds ago, and Kaia was convinced that it had come from the direction of the room that she presently stood before. Her sister had to be on the other side.
I had shoes just now, thought the barefooted Kaia, gently stepping onto the glass. She gritted her teeth. It was cold in the room, uncomfortably so, and she shook violently. She held her arms up to her chest as she progressed. It’s not a pillar, she realized. It looks like a sculpture. Wait, no, there are two figures. They look like—no, no, no! Kaia threw herself at the base of the statue and covered her mouth. She held out her hand to touch the image, but she broke out in sobs. The statue was of a kneeling Taria. She was leaning forward, her back curved. She cupped her open mouth with her hands. Her eyes, heavy with the desperation of a thousand woes, begged for help. The second figure was Ree’s; she squeezed Taria’s arm with both hands and hid her face in her side.
“Taria,” whimpered Kaia. “Ree. I’m here. I’m here. Please!”
Kaia went to hug the carved slab of stone. When she did, the statue crumbled, cracking the mirror beneath it. The crack was so mighty that it extended to every corner of the room, causing the glass floor to shatter.
Kaia plummeted towards she knew not what. She flailed her arms, frantically trying to take hold of something—of anything—to stop her fall; there was nothing. Her heart raced. Kaia braced herself for impact; she kept her eyes shut, bent her knees, and protected her head with her arms.
Thump.
Uncurling herself, Kaia distinguished a hedge. She was still in the maze. Without sitting up, she scanned her body. Not a single shard of glass had lodged itself in her. As a matter of fact, not a single shard of glass surrounded her, nor did fragments of the statue. Kaia looked up—blue skies, not a trace of the room she had been in.
“I know the way out,” said a voice.
Kaia leapt to her feet. “Stephan!”
“I know the way out,” he repeated, giggling.
“I was looking for something…for someone…”
Stephan reached for Kaia’s hand.
***
Kaia awoke. The first thing she saw was Insee; she was strolling nearby, pecking at the dirt. Pelliab was up, too; his foot was nervously thumping against the ground. Aylin’s tinlisit—whose light had been concealed throughout the day by a special, cloth case—lit up the forest. In spite of this, watch was being kept, just in case.
It was only a dream, thought Kaia. Only a dream. Her stomach somersaulted endlessly and a terrible sense of foreboding plagued her. Kaia didn’t understand why she felt so anxious and terrified. She replayed the dream in her mind, shuddering when she recalled Stephan. He had been too happy. His appearance and behavior seemed out of place.
Warrin tapped Pelliab and relieved him of his watch. The prince sat down and kept his unsheathed sword on his lap.
“You are awake!” observed Warrin, looking at Kaia. “Have you been up long?”
“No.”
“Bad dream? Mar isn’t what I was expecting either,” he said with a frown.
“I’ve been thinking,” said Kaia.
“What about?”
“The turned ones. If the curse is lifted, do you think that they’ll go back to being humans?”
“I don’t know. It depends on whether lifting the curse will undo everything that has happened in the last decade or if it will simply keep it all from continuing to happen.”
“Do you really think that there remains nothing human in them?”
“From what we’ve seen, yes.”
“I only wonder because, here, when a person kills an animal, nothing happens to them. When they kill another person, though, they change. If the turned ones truly are complete beasts and have not a trace of humanity within them, wouldn’t killing them carry the same consequences as killing any other animal? Wouldn’t the killer not change?”
“I suppose. Although, there could be other explanations.”
>
“Like?”
“I don’t know. Others.”
“I am sorry about your brothers, Warrin.”
“We weren’t prepared. Not for this. Knowing what you know now, having seen what you have, would you still have come?”
“I’d like to think so.”
“If my father had known, I think he would have sent different sons.”
“Why would you say that?”
“We’ve been here a total of five nights, and already three of us have been felled.”
Kaia sat up. “Raelon and Bennett were both defending their charge. If Raelon hadn’t been awake that first night, the entire expedition would have been for naught. And you and Bennett are the reason that three of the turned ones were kept afar. Tomorrow Pelliab and I shall deliver the message to the king. What more could your father want?”
“For none of us to have been felled. We are princes. We represent the throne. We all wanted the same thing: to help, of course, but, mostly, to impress him…to stand out.”
“You and your brothers have done him honor.”
Warrin smiled. “What about you? Why did you come?”
“They named me,” said Kaia, pulling her neck back.
“You could have said no.”
“Could I?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then, I imagine I came for the same reason Pelliab did; it felt right.”
“Pelliab is a kingsman. He does not do things because they feel right. He does them because my father commands him to. Do you think that if he had been given the choice he would have chosen this over his family?”
“He was forced?”
“I—I don’t know. I am only speculating.”
“Why? You must have seen or heard something to make you think so.”
“You should try to go to sleep. I’ll be here for a while, so if you have another bad dream…”
Chapter Fourteen
Enbeck
“This is as far as we go,” said Nahv.
“Do you know your way back?” asked Aylin.
“Yes.”
The Speaker reached into her bag and withdrew two small pouches and a map. “Here.”
Nahv shook her head.
“I insist. For the nights,” she said, passing Nahv the first pouch. “For food,” she said, tendering her the second. “And to be safe,” she said, giving her a map.
“Alright…don’t mention us.”
“We won’t,” said Aylin, extending her hand.
Nahv took the fire-haired Speaker’s hand in hers. She scanned the others and opened her mouth, as if to say something, then tipped her head and turned around to leave; Folken followed.
The group walked towards a cobbled, winding road that was nearby. Kaia thought about how Nahv would look back upon the preceding days. The younger Stone sister counted her own involvement in the expedition as one of the most significant chapters of her life, and she was confident that time would not rob it of that distinction. The same could not be true for Nahv, or so thought Kaia.
For the Meadackers, the expedition had to be but the prologue to an impending journey. Hence, as is the case with most preludes, the trek to Enbeck—though necessary and important—was almost forgettable in the shadow of what was to come. Interesting how something that borders insignificance in one person’s narrative can be of such tremendous significance in someone else’s.
“Don’t be nervous, Kaia,” whispered Elania.
“I’m not.”
Elania and Ani narrowed their eyes.
“Stop,” said Kaia.
Enbeck was a magnificent sight. It clung to the top of an elevated, rocky island. The inclined road that Kaia and the others walked upon connected to a bridge that led to the castle’s outer gate, which, in turn, led to the gatehouse. The castle had colossal watchtowers which grazed the heavens above and an overall jagged appearance to it; its individual components were of varying heights and were located along different parts of the hill that formed the island.
There were trees neither on the island nor within several hundred yards of the bridge connecting the mainland and Enbeck. Casting a curious glance over her shoulder, Kaia noticed that the frontline of trees on the mainland was unnaturally straight. She thought of Mellap, Ricaan, the Meadackers’ farm, Torsnem, and Jenio; there were no trees near the dwellings and structures there, either. No darkness, no turned ones, she thought.
Perhaps we should prepare, reconsidered Kaia, who had previously succeeded in convincing herself that it was not necessary to rehearse what they would say to the king. This is what we were sent for. And the delivery itself must be of importance; otherwise, anyone could have conveyed the message.
Kaia approached Pelliab. “Do you still think that I was sent simply to protect you?”
“We must keep it brief,” conceded the kingsman. “That is our best course of action. I will tell them who has sent us and then cue you to give them the missing fragment of the transcription. If they want more information, let them ask. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
Ani climbed into Elania’s arms to get a better view. She stared at the calm, deep blue waters below. It was a long way down. Ani tightened her grip.
The group marched in muted celebration. Even Pelliab grinned at the sight of the castle. They had made it. The next move belonged to the Marians.
As they neared the outer gate, Elania faltered and screamed. Kaia ran forward and caught her. Aylin, covering Pelliab, scrambled towards the gate, uttering as she escaped. When her lips moved no more, a semi-tubular shield materialized, capping the bridge.
Ani, bawling, cradled Elania’s head in her hands. Kaia pressed down around her sister’s wounds, trying to slow the bleeding. Two arrows protruded from Elania’s body—one from her arm, the other from her torso.
“Elania! It’s not bad. It’s…it’s just a small cut. Two tiny cuts,” said Kaia.
“It’s alright,” said Elania in a single breath, grimacing.
“I can fix this. I can. I can fix it. Just tell me what to do.”
“You have to go.”
“No! I can fix it,” bewailed Kaia, ignoring Warrin’s calls.
“You can’t,” said Elania, tears wetting her face.
“I’ll carry you.”
“No! Kaia, no. Don’t move me. That will…make it worse.” A sad smile distorted her face. “Don’t be afraid. Ani will…stay…with you.”
“We aren’t separating. You aren’t going anywhere. Understand?”
“I’m sorry, Kaia. So…so sorry.”
Armed men descended from the closest watchtowers and crowded around Elania. Two sets of unfamiliar hands clasped Kaia’s arms and dragged her towards the gate.
Kaia struggled to get back to her sister’s side. “No! Let go! Don’t touch her!”
“Bring the physician,” ordered the highest-ranking guard—so distinguished by his black stole. “And take them inside.”
“Let me stay with her!” pleaded Kaia; her appeal fell on deaf ears.
Warrin grabbed one of Kaia’s wrists. “They’ve got her,” he whispered, as they were led away. “Focus. Remember why we are here. They’ll take care of Elania.”
The group came to a halt in the inner ward.
“Has the king been alerted?” asked a guard.
“He has,” answered another. “We wait for his commands.”
“You forgot one,” said yet another, brutishly setting Ani down on the ground.
Kaia bent over and held out her arms. Ani scurried to her and pressed herself to her chest.
“King Sol asks that they be brought before him,” said one of the guards, emerging from an opening in the castle’s inner curtain.
***
Insee discreetly followed and concealed herself in a corner. It was difficult to see inside the throne room. Here, too, the windows were boarded from the outside. Light came from five candled chandeliers that hung from the ceiling; arranged in a vertical line, there were four smal
ler ones—a pair located near the door and another close to the throne—and one massive, four-tiered one in the center of the room’s ceiling.
The room’s columns were coated in bronze and had a gold finishing. Teal tiles covered the floor, forming a path—lined by armed guardsmen—to the throne, which was itself situated on an elevated platform. An unarmed man stood beside the seated king; his self-assured, overly erect posture led Kaia to guess—correctly—that he was an advisor.
King Sol had a dense, black beard. He had wide shoulders and large hands. He sat rigidly in his seat. “I have been informed that there was an incident near Enbeck’s gate,” he said.
“Is this how you greet all of your visitors? With arrows? Our weapons, Your Highness, were not even in hand,” said Pelliab.
“It is awfully bold of you to make such an unwarranted accusation,” he hissed. “What king attacks his own subjects? And here, of all places! Considering the present circumstances, I am willing to ignore the audacity of your comments. I do regret what happened; those responsible will be brought to justice, and your friend will be well taken care of—I can assure you. Do not, I warn you, forget yourself again. Now, who are you? If you will, present me with your petitions.”
“I am Sir Pelliab Blackwell.”
“And your petition?”
“My friends and I come at the instruction of the Utdrendans.”
“The Utdrendans? That is quite a claim to make. If you come in jest, I urge you to leave now, while my patience is still tempered by a most unusual bout of merriment.”
“We have come from afar to speak with you.”
“That suffices to stand before me. I will hear. Speak earnestly.”
“Your Highness, no false claims have been made. The members of this group hail from Zavonia, Darlbent, and Greyland—”
“You dare walk so far down that line even after I have cautioned you?” scoffed King Sol. “You risk the punishment?”
Capering on Glass Bridges (The Hawk of Stone Duology, Book 1) Page 14