Sky Song: Overture (16 page)

I frowned, shaking my head. “I knew two lovers once who like majestic oaks needed room to thrive, but you and I are more like twisting vines that depend on each other’s fortitude to climb out of despair. I don’t want us to ever be apart.”

Baker laced his fingers with mine and kissed my hand. “Then I should stay at your side,” he said. “I would entreat you not to take up residence here. This city holds a long list of bad memories for me.”

“Yes. For me as well,” I said. “I should be off.”

“I think I will sleep some more.” He rolled onto his face.

“Try not to suffocate yourself.”

Pillows muffled his laughter. I made myself presentable and went to be received by Princess Molly.

She resided in her mother’s old room atop a tower of iron stairs, and obeying her summons proved quite the trial. The climb exhausted me, each step stinging more than the last, leading me to understand why her guards had not escorted me to her door. As I neared, I heard the child singing, her voice echoing through the metallic casing of the stairwell.

The doors and windows to her room hung open spilling sun throughout. Saturated in light, Molly looked radiant in her lavender dress. She stopped singing and ran towards me, leaping into my arms and smothering me with her puffy tulle sleeves. I caught the girl and set her down gently.

“Hello there, Princess.”

“I knew all along you would make it! I was watching from the Eclipse when your ship exploded! The crew said, ‘No chance they made it out.’ I told them better, those oafs!”

“Oh, heavens,” I said, noticing the wall behind her. I laughed outright. She had finished her hairwork, and Fiona’s blonde locks were configured into the image of a falcon taking flight, pressed in glass within a cherry wood frame. “Molly, you didn’t.”

“Do you like it?” I could hardly breathe, much less answer her. “Don’t laugh at me, Clikk! I had nothing at all to do these past few weeks!”

“I’m sorry,” I said, clearing my throat to resist chuckling. “It’s lovely. Truly.”

“Well,” she said. “You certainly do seem different. All smiles. Does this have anything to do with your beau?”

“Molly!” I chided. “Who told you about that?”

“You, just now,” she said. “It’s that man with the dreadlocks, isn’t it?”

“Someone told you. I’ll kill that Mr. Peake.”

“No no no!” Molly choked on her laughter. “Yesterday, Baker came asking Dirk where to find you. We filled in the rest, and you just confirmed it.”

I shrugged, stumbling over my own words as I murmured, “I wouldn’t call him my beau exactly. It’s all happened so suddenly. We shall see how it goes.”

“He’d better not take you away from me. You’re staying here in Locwyn, aren’t you?”

“For now.”

“Oh no,” she stammered. “You don’t mean that. Not truly.”

“Baker cannot withstand a landlocked city, and we both feel like outsiders this far north. Just remember, Molly, wherever I go, we shall always remain friends.”

“You can’t go. Dirk needs your counsel. We have a nation to feed! And he’s going to knight you, you know? Don’t tell him I told you. Try to look surprised. Memorize this face you’re making now.”

“Knight me?” I could only mouth the words for my voice was completely lost. “I could never.”

“Don’t you want to be a knight?”

“Do I look like a knight to you?” I asked.

“No,” she sighed, dreary sorrow asphyxiating her glow. “You look… like a sky pirate.”

I gave her shoulder a tender squeeze. “I don’t plan to return to all that brutality, but I should never stay grounded long.”

“What if…” she said, looking up. “What if I asked my brother to make you his emissary? You could travel all over the world as a representative of the king you put into power.”

This proposition appealed to me. “I might consider that,” I said.

“There is one condition. It is only that on occasion you take me with you.”

“I suppose it’s only fair,” I said. “Does this mean you’re not afraid of flying anymore?”

“Well, I won’t have to worry about storms with you around, and should we encounter sky pirates, I’m certain they’ll let us go once they recognize you.”

“Oh, most definitely,” I said. “We’re all chums in Amaranthia.”

Molly smiled. “Now for the real reason I called you here.” She went to her rocking chair and retrieved two needlepoint hoops fitted with linen.

“Oh no,” I said. “No, Molly.”

“Please, Clikk! Let me teach you some proper needlepoint.”

“I told you I already know needlepoint.”

“Humor me,” she said.

One of the handkerchiefs already had green leaves stitched into the fabric. Molly went straight to work at it.

I consigned to my fate and took a moment to consider what I should embellish. Most people chose flowers or initials. I knew I should preserve some memory to keep in my pocket, some ideal to uphold in my conduct. I made a choice and executed the design, stitching with care.

Molly’s elaborate tree sprawled in coils of bronze and green. Her stitches lined up in neat succession and every root and branch had perfect form. She said the tree commemorated our adventure in the forest and would remind her of the day she came to know how much her brother loved her. 

She looked over my shoulder to see what I had done. Having completed elegant embroidery, I proved I knew needlepoint after all. A name adorned the handkerchief in gold thread.

Ramona.

She was no ghost, and never had been. She was the bravest sky pirate who ever lived.

For updates on the progress on

Sky Song: Scherzo

and

Sky Song: Finale

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