Chapter 29
High Priestess Danu Macbeth stepped down from her elevated tree house perch and onto the cloudbank, which glimmered like quicksilver under a particularly bright September moon. Easterly breezes, cool and irregular, tugged on her flowing white robe as she mindlessly probed the misty surface before her with her rackstaff. In the distance, a lone mountain peak crested above the cloudbank, appearing dark and foreboding without the sun’s bright illumination.
Danu had been dreading tonight’s up and coming meeting, but then again she neither liked nor trusted Grounders, and rarely felt pleasure being amongst their kind. At a brisk pace, she walked the two miles along a solidly packed route, one she knew quite well by now. For sure, there was the occasional quickfall patch but her Sight allowed her to distinguish them as easily as she could the twinkling stars above from the darkened night sky. She came to a stop long enough to turn around and face back the way she had come. In the distance, she could make out the tree house village, built atop the high-reaching branches of nearly one hundred Ragoon trees. Freish Kinloch. Windows, glowing with the soft amber light of the lanterns within, provided just enough light outside to illuminate the many interconnecting swing-bridges. Two hundred-and-fifty-five Skylander souls called the surreal treetop village their home. What still remained of the once-powerful Macbeth Clan now lived peaceful, simple lives up there. She thought of home—her first real home—among the steel and concrete Manhattan high-rise buildings, where war more often than not was the norm. Where, for five centuries, the shortsighted clan CloudMasters and arrogant CloudKings—always so greedy and envious of each other—constantly resorted to murderous conflict and warring rather than establishing a society that was lasting and good. Danu mused, So why do I miss living there so much? Why have I been counting the days when I can return again? Her thoughts turned again, as they so often did of late, to her final days in Manhattan, and the wickedly difficult pregnancy she had endured nearly twenty years in the past. She had been in her forties at the time, and knew that there was more than a small possibility she would die in childbirth. She knew there was a good chance she would never meet her child, but she never imagined she would be the one to survive the ordeal. She closed her eyes, remembering how her long-awaited child had finally arrived into this physical world but was so ominously quiet. Hemorrhaging in the darkened confines of her high-rise bedroom, and in and out of consciousness, Danu remembered hearing those two words that would alter the course of her life forever: She’s stillborn. She recalled seeing the tiny, lifeless infant whisked away by one of the midwives. She had lost consciousness shortly afterward, from grief or blood loss or both, and by the time her condition had stabilized, her daughter’s tiny corpse had been removed. Danu had never gotten the chance to say goodbye, or kiss her baby’s cheek even once, and it was a fact that saddened her to this day.
At the time, there had been little opportunity to mourn her child’s death, because the coup against her family had soon followed. She was still in bed recovering, only a day or two after her daughter’s birth, and she could still recall the clattering of Dorcha Poileas boots storming up the Empire State Building’s inner stairwell. They were coming for her and there was nothing she could do about it. She didn’t understand it at the time. How such an event could inexplicably happen just like that. How the Manhattan and Jersey City high priests and priestesses had been suddenly stripped of their conjuring powers, their magical abilities derived from the elements in the cloudbank suddenly ceased, like someone had suddenly turned the handle of a tap to stem the flow.
Danu remembered finding out about the Sùilean Uamhasach—the terrible eye—a Ruin-era meteorite that had lain lodged perhaps a hundred feet below ground, burrowed deep within another building’s subterranean foundation. It eventually became loosened by the constant flow of acid rain runoff and the subsequent erosion of everything around it. Some twenty years ago it finally became dislodged, and had literally rolled out onto the tracks of a Grounder tunnel. The Grounders who discovered it saw that the meteorite glowed with a pulsing, throbbing light, as if it were some kind of living thing. It was spectacularly beautiful, a near-perfect sphere of sapphire glass, and it didn’t take long before word of the discovery spread all the way up to the Skylander realm. Scientists within the Chrysler building couldn’t wait to examine this amazing, glowing artifact. Purchased for a nominal fee, it took four heavyset Grounders several days to carry the meteorite up the Chrysler’s winding narrow stairwell.
It was soon discovered that the meteorite’s presence there within the Chrysler Building, and in such close proximity with the cloudbank, had the power to completely diminish the abilities of every high priest and priestess within their respective high-rise clans. The changes that ensued were swift. No longer did the once all-powerful Macbeth Clan hold the same level of influence that it had for five centuries. CloudKing Loch Macbeth’s dominance over the other clan CloudMasters was in serious jeopardy. The attacks that came from the other clans were sudden, and the Macbeth Clan was swiftly defeated, purged from their home within the towering Empire State Building. The Sùilean Uamhasach remained atop the cloudbank, ensuring there would be no unnatural sorcerers around to disrupt their new balance of power.
Within days, all high priests and priestesses, as well as any survivors who had been associated with the Macbeth Clan, quickly fled for their lives. Danu was among them. Having just lost her child, she was still weak and heartbroken. These clan survivors escaped to the north. Once they were a sufficient distance away from the Sùilean Uamhasach, Danu and others like her found that their conjuring powers were once again restored.
Danu’s thoughts returned to the present as she reached the mountain’s summit, cresting above the cloudbank like a massive stone surrounded by a sterling lake. She saw movement on the banks ahead. Grounders. A few who’d dared to enter her realm if only to view it from the security of the rock and soil beneath their feet.
Chapter 30
Four men, each bearded and unkempt—their hair tousled and their clothes dark and soiled—converged as Danu approached the point where the cloudbank met the rise of the mountain peak.
“A good evening to you, Brian, and to you, Sam and Leon.” She then focused her gaze on the fourth man, someone she did not recognize or ever remember meeting. “Hello to you, good sir. I am Danu.”
“I know who you are. This is not a social visit. How about we cease pretending we like each other’s company and get right down to business?”
Danu let the man’s rude behavior pass. Instead, she offered a polite nod back and a facial expression without malice. “You still haven’t told me your name, young man. Do I assume you are speaking for the others here?”
“I’m Howard and yes, I’ll be the person renegotiating any further dealings here.”
There seemed to be a perpetual crease between the man’s close-set eyes. A head taller, and a half-body’s width wider than the other three men, he suddenly began pacing, his hands on hips, his chest puffed out, and his chin raised. A strutting peacock, clearly this man used his bulk and nasty temperament to intimidate others. Danu wondered if he had recently been elevated to a position of power? Maybe he was a mayor, or a governor below the cloudbank? While the Grounders she had come to know in Manhattan lived mostly below the ground, these Grounders resided within timber dwellings, which were heavily coated on an annual basis with a rubber-like sap extracted from mature Ragoon trees. This allowed them to live at surface level, but also meant that they lacked any of the deference and respect that Manhattan Grounders showed to Skylanders.
Danu’s level gaze moved from Brian to Sam, then over to Leon. Not one of them looked her in the eye. They either looked away or peered downward toward their feet. Whether it was from embarrassment or from shame, she wasn’t sure, but she knew she would have to tread carefully tonight. “Fine. Well, you requested this clandestine, late-night meeting, so please tell me what is so important we could not meet during the daytime, as we’
ve always done.”
“Well, that’s just the thing, isn’t it?” Howard said, taking a step closer and invading her personal space. He towered over her. “Always you setting the rules, huh? I’d heard that you were a real ball-buster, uppity and superior. That you think you’re better than the rest of us mere Grounder folks down below.”
With his too-close proximity, sour body odor infiltrated Danu’s nostrils. The skin on his upper cheeks and forehead looked dried and scaly: fallen flakes of dead skin clung precariously to his beard and mustache, ready to be dislodged at any moment. It was a stark reminder of the effects of constant acid rains and acid mists Grounders had to endure day in and day out, and one that allowed Danu to hold her irritation in check.
Her voice calm, Danu said, “We’ve maintained a solid symbiotic relationship for decades now. Have things changed so much? Is it that you need more fresh water? Perhaps our holding tanks have become fouled. Shall we give them a good scrubbing?” Danu knew fresh water was everything to those living below. Even the water runoff that flowed down the mountainside into streams and rivers quickly became contaminated by the overhead acid rains. The pure rainwater collected by the Skylanders at Freish Kinloch was essential to their very survival, just as the food supplies from covered Grounder crops below were essential to the Skylanders above.
At first, Danu surmised Howard’s hulking proximity was solely meant to intimidate her, but there was another reason behind it. His intention was to block her view of the mountain terrain behind him, she realized. Just over his right shoulder, on the rising mountain peak, she saw the subtle movement of dark shapes hurrying along the crest line. No less than ten figures, taking up position there.
“You don’t want to do this,” Danu said, again trying to catch the eyes of the three other men. She had never actually become friends with them, yet she’d always found a balance of mutual respect whenever they’d met.
Danu realized there were far more than ten men in the distance as they descended together toward the place where mountain met cloudbank, a kind of shoreline. It was an impressive show of force. She would have a hard time confronting so many men, all of whom wielded makeshift weapons like spades, rakes, hoes and other repurposed equipment. An army of Grounder men, she thought, and wondered how long this forthcoming attack had been in the works. A sudden sadness crept up on her in that moment—she hadn’t expected any of this.
For the first time, Brian, the smallest of the four men there, made eye contact with her. “I’m sorry, Danu. I don’t necessarily agree with the others here. You’ve been straightforward and honest enough, at least with our dealings over the years. But not everyone feels the same. I guess they feel you and your kind—”
Howard cut him off, “Shut up, Brian.” The big man gestured toward the distant tree house village. “Stop apologizing. You’re like a whimpering child.” The muscles in Howard’s jaw flexed. He raised a forefinger and repeatedly pointed it at Danu’s chest, like a spike being driven into her heart. “It’s time you people share the wealth. Time for us Grounders to live up here, beneath blue skies. It’s our turn to feel the sun on our faces.”
“No one’s ever stopped you,” Danu said, though she was as aware as they were that all previous attempts by Grounders to venture up onto the cloudbank eventually led to missteps into quickfall patches.
“You think we are simpletons? That we cannot learn? Cannot adapt?” Howard asked. Without turning his eyes from her, he said, “Show her, Kyle.”
Twenty feet away, a man took a step forward, separating himself from the long line of Grounders. Grasping a tall pole in one hand, Kyle tentatively stepped out onto the cloudbank. Danu gave the poor sod points for bravery. He continued on, poking and prodding the bank as he went. Three strides in front of him, Danu spotted a quickfall patch, one that would not hold the weight of such a big man. About to warn him, Howard raised a hand to stifle her.
“Let him proceed,” he said.
The man slowed then came to a stop; his head now tilted to one side, as if changing his visual perspective would make some kind of difference. But apparently it did, because he then moved to his right, completely avoiding the dangerous patch along his route. As he continued going forward, three more times he was able to discern what no other Grounder had, at least one she had ever come into contact with. He clearly had the Sight. It took another five minutes before he’d navigated his way across to where Danu, and the other four men were standing.
With a smug expression that included a taunting smirk, Kyle said, “I’ll have no problem guiding us over to the village.”
“And what then, Howard?” Danu asked, appearing unfazed. “Are you prepared to jeopardize the status quo? Risk the lives of your people, all on the abilities—shaky at best—of this one man?”
“I’ve traversed the cloudbank a hundred times. In the dark of night, I have moved about your village as easily as you do. There’s nothing to it,” Kyle said.
“Good. Impressive. You have found yourself a guide. What we call a CloudWalker, where I come from. Although the training to become one takes years and much dedication.” Danu’s outer demeanor remained unfazed, though she knew, full well, this was a pivotal moment for the Grounders as well as the Skylanders living within the village. The hundreds of Skylanders, mostly asleep in their beds just yonder, would be no match for this hoard of Grounders that may soon infiltrate their serene treetop village of Freish Kinloch.
“Seems to me Kyle will be quite busy, one person to guide so many. You must hope he doesn’t have a misstep, or fall ill. Then what?” Danu queried.
“Kyle’s eldest son. He too has the ability. And we’ll find others.”
Danu suspected the man was right. Without a doubt, there was Celtic blood running through this man’s veins. Undoubtedly, his spawn also was blessed with the Sight. “And what of my people?” Danu asked. “Is it your intent to cross the cloudbank this very night with your crude weapons and kill men, women, and children in their beds? Are you ready to shoulder that burden? Such an ill deed will lie heavily on one’s conscious for a lifetime. Perhaps for generations to come.”
“War is never pretty,” Howard said. “And it’s not like we haven’t considered all the pros and cons prior to tonight. But your time here atop the cloud, well, it’s over.” He made an almost imperceptible gesture, the slightest raising of his chin, to Sam and Leon. They both moved fast, rushing forward to grab ahold of Danu’s arms. Simultaneously, Brian wrenched the rackstaff free from her grasp and held it away from her.
She did not resist. “So why have I been spared this cowardly attack?” Danu asked, and for the first time the tenor of her voice revealed her unsettled emotions. “I too could be sound asleep in my bed when you attack.”
Howard’s eyes glistened in the moonlight. With an unsettling, child-like grin, he said, “We are not completely barbaric, Danu. There is no need for the children to be harmed. A good-faith gesture I am willing to consider.”
“How kind of you.”
“But there is one condition.”
“Which is?”
“That you and the children—as they mature—become our . . . what did you call them? Our CloudWalkers. As you rightly pointed out, how could our poor Kyle here possibly be a guide a to so many of us?” Howard said, raising his brows.
Fifty-three children below the age of twelve lived within the village. Howard was proposing they become life-long indentured servants after enduring the horrendous pain of watching their parents be murdered this night.
“You leave me little choice,” she said, sounding defeated. “You promise the children will go unharmed?”
“That’s what I said, isn’t it? Keep in mind, though, I am still prepared to end all of your lives if necessary. Yours, and the children . . .”
“Aye. I can see that you are.” Danu said looking into the large man’s eyes. She gazed past him, toward that sweet village atop the cloudbank—her home for nearly two decades. Perhaps a few Skylanders would b
e caught off-guard in their beds sleeping, but these Grounders were unaware of the kind of conjuring power of which that populace was capable. What magical forces they would find themselves up against. But still, some Skylanders would die tonight. Some children might die tonight.
“As I said, what choice do I have?” Danu asked, now looking resigned to the gruff Grounder’s demands.
Howard chuckled, then over glanced to Brian. “Didn’t I tell you this is our time to show strength? To take what is rightfully ours?” With that, Howard raised an arm over his head. His army of hundreds of Grounder men standing side-by-side became still, then each of them, in turn, raised his shovel, hoe, or other tool up high in the air.
“Lead on, Kyle. Lead us across the cloudbank,” Howard said, moving quickly to join the newly anointed Grounder-CloudWalker, taking position right behind him. Kyle proceeded forward, using his pole. Slow and sure, he strode toward Freish Kinloch, a single file line of Grounder men falling in behind. They trudged forward in total silence.
She watched in silence. This invading army clearly had practiced tonight’s invasion a number of times; they had come to terms with the fact they would be killing hundreds of Danu’s fellow Skylanders. She felt sickened by a human race void of any real humanity.
By now, about half the procession of Grounders had made their way onto the cloudbank. Nary a one looked particularly sure-footed. In fact, they looked somewhat vulnerable, but each had made their choice, either collectively or individually, to be here and to do this awful thing. Kyle and Howard, now a hundred yards away, were little more than slow-moving dark shapes, and behind them was a long, snaking line of Grounder men. Men fully intent on killing so many others this very night.
Brian, Sam, and Leon gave no indication they would be joining their brethren. They simply watched, like Danu, with apparent sadness in their eyes.
“You didnae want this,” she asked. “You argued against this, didnae you?”
Cloudwalkers Page 17