The Stillness of the Sky (15 page)

Even pushing against his chest made no difference. While I’d be the first to admit it wasn’t a terrible place to be trapped, his trickery did nothing to endear the man to me.

“Fine,” I said in a slow sigh. “I promise not to run from you.”

Slowly, he retracted his hands, his fingertips trailing down my neck and shoulders as he pulled away. He touched my face again, still searching my eyes with that same look of wonder.

“Jack, may I ask permission for something?”

I planted my hands on my hips, irritated and beyond tired. “What sort of prince needs a Bard’s permission for anything? Between tricking me into performances and truths, what more can I possibly do for you today? Perhaps you’d like me to swear away my freedom as well? I assure you that won’t—”

My tirade broke off in a yelp as he pulled me into a narrow alley, the place instantly swallowing us in shadows. There, he hid us from the people passing on the street, on their way home from the party at the gathering hall.

“No tricks, Jack.” His breath brushed against my ear. “No orders or demands. I don’t know if I’ll get another chance for this, and I’ll regret it if I don’t try.”

“Oh, for goodness sake,” I hissed at him. “I’ve already promised to go to your festival. You’ll see me again.”

“But I might not see you alone,” he said.

“Does His Highness think I’m in such demand that—”

A finger against my mouth silenced me.

“For years I’ve heard you in my dreams, Jack. I’ve lost entire days wondering about the face behind the voice. That waltz you sang tonight, I’ve heard you sing it before. I’d never keep you from your freedom, but I’ve kept that song every moment since I heard it in slumber.”

“You’re incredibly frustrating, and I’m extremely tired. Would you ask whatever it is and let me rest?”

“May I kiss you, Jack?”

“May you… What?” My mouth fell open at his request. “Why would you—”

He rested his palm against my cheek, his face inches from mine. “Because now that I’ve seen you, you’ve bewitched me completely.”

I swallowed, unable to tear my gaze from his. “I’ve not done anything of the sort. What good would come out of—”

“I won’t know until I try,” he said. “But I’ll not order you to it. I ask only as a man, not as a prince, and not out of entitlement. Will you give me more than a song for my dreams tonight?”

To be kissed by a prince, what would that be like? His words tugged at my heart, and I couldn’t say as I’d refuse him for any reason but my pride. Perhaps he had a part to play in my story. What I saw on his face spoke of such need, such desperation, it was nearly painful to witness. I’d failed him when he needed a friend the night before, did I have it in me to fail him again?

Kindness. Above all else, kindness.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

“You may.”

Chapter 12

Leaning up against my bedroom door, I closed my eyes and sighed. Most everyone was still at the party, but the creaking footsteps out in the hall told me Willem was lingering. That he stayed made me wonder if it was the right decision to let him kiss me. At the time, it seemed like it was, and during the kiss I was definitely sure. His lips were soft, a far cry from the demanding way I thought he’d have, and it was sweet, the kind of kiss that left me wishing for more. But he took no more or less of me than I’d granted permission for, and thanked me for the gift before we left the alley. I wasn’t so quick to find my tongue, but he didn’t press me for further conversation.

I shouldn’t have been thinking of it. I had too many things to do.

Absentmindedly, I pulled the gem Crilla gave me out of my bodice, turning it over between my fingers as I replayed the night in my head. When I rested it on my palm, my attention turned to it more completely, and I studied it closer, wondering how it was supposed to help me find my mother. I rubbed my thumb over the smooth surface, frustrated.

A dim glow blossomed in the center of the jewel, stretching and spreading until it formed an arrow pointing back at me. I straightened, staring at the light in confusion.

The footsteps outside paused momentarily. Two decisive ones followed, stopping on the other side of the door. I waited. A moment later, I heard him turn and march down the stairs.

Even more curious than Prince Willem’s behavior, however, was that of the arrow. When I looked down again, the direction had changed, its movements corresponding directly with Willem’s retreat.

“Oh no…” I groaned to myself. “That can’t be right.”

The gem didn’t answer.

No matter what the arrow said, I refused to travel with him. After everything that night, I was sure his companions would pick up on a change and press for information. My ability to lie was rivaled only by my skills with traps. That being, I had none.

I wandered over to the nightstand and lit my lamp. The flame danced inside the glass enclosure, flickering slightly as it fully came to life, its light reflected in the mirror across the room.

Standing before the looking glass, I took stock of myself. I’d never been kissed before, not as Willem had done, anyway, and I wondered if anyone else would see a difference in me. I felt mostly like myself, and as far as I could tell I looked the same, yet something had definitely changed. The lines of my face were the tiniest bit smoother, and… I peered closer at my reflection. I didn’t look nearly as tired as I felt. There weren’t any dark circles under my amber eyes, and none of the puffy redness I’d taken for perpetual features. Could a single kiss work such magic?

No, not any kiss. A kiss from a prince. Kisses that should only be given to a princess, or someone of noble blood.

Bard or not, I was nothing more than a farmer’s daughter, run off by too many years of abuse.

Prince Willem would leave in the morning, and my obligation would be fulfilled. Ro and I would fly on, following the arrow’s lead. I’d see him once more at his castle, sing a few songs, and then…

I sighed. Every piece of me protested with exhaustion. Such thinking required energy I simply didn’t have that night.

Dress draped across the back of a chair, I hunkered down in the soft bed. With a last reminder to myself to cherish the feel of feathers, as it might be a week before I saw the luxury of a mattress again, I closed my eyes and slept.

I awoke before sunrise of my own accord. Some tiredness lingered in me, but I didn’t have time to stay in bed. Using the money the mayor gave me, the day before I found a shop and purchased a new pair of breeches and tunic. What little was left over I set aside for the journey. Dressed much more reasonably that morning, I gathered my things and crept downstairs, each squeaky floorboard betraying me as I went. Rather than leave by the front, I paid a visit to the kitchen, and the cook, a rosy-cheeked woman that smiled a great deal, sent me off with a wrapped bundle for my morning meal. When I offered her a coin in exchange, she waved me off, saying the music I’d blessed the house with the past few days was more than payment enough. I left her with my goodbyes for the mayor and his company, and the door closed behind me, no one else the wiser I was gone.

My first gulps of morning air cleared my head completely. My steps felt easier than they had since I’d come to Alonin. The weight of my promise to Mayor Trundell had burdened me much more than I’d realized, and I was grateful to be putting it behind me.

When I passed through the gates of town, I broke into a run, laughing. I must’ve looked half-mad doing so, but I’d missed Ro terribly, and worried he’d gotten into trouble without my knowing. The moment I reached the clearing, I pulled the feather from my pack, running my fingers along the rigid spine of it to call him, then sat, waiting.

Normally, a giant shadow looming over me would be cause for alarm, but in this case, it was a relief. Ro landed safely, and my initial inspection saw no new wounds anywhere on him.

I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I’m so glad to see you. Did you fare all right without me?”

“It was quiet,” he said, the sound of his voice soothing me instantly. “You are well?”

“Yes, all in one piece,” I said as I pulled away. “We’ve much to do now that we have some direction. Are you ready to fly?”

“The sky awaits us, Lady.”

Excited to feel the wind in my hair again, I clambered into the saddle, the leather wrapping me in a familiar hold that felt more like a hug than restraints. Flying with Ro was a freedom like no other. The sky was endless and filled with possibility.

“What direction, Lady?”

I considered it a moment, then released the handles, freeing my arms to check the gemstone compass. I hummed as I considered it. I couldn’t simply let go to check it mid-air. If I had some way to secure it on the saddle within my line of sight, that would make everything easier.

Hopping down from my perch, I looked around for anything I could use. Spying a pine tree at one end of the clearing, I made my way to it, knife in hand. Sticky sap oozed from the branches, precisely what I needed. A quick scraping, a spackling on the back of the compass, and I’d mounted the item in a way that the wind wouldn’t take it, but my knife surely could. I wasn’t happy about subjecting either the saddle or gem to tree sap, but it would do until I found a better solution.

“Which way, Lady?” Ro said when I was seated again.

After glancing at the compass in front of me, I sighed. “South, back towards town. Keep high so we won’t be spotted. I’ve an idea of where we’re going, but I need to make sure of something first.”

With that, we were up and away. Alonin came into view quickly, and I scanned the streets to confirm my suspicions. We passed over the mayor’s house as the royal carriage and its retinue of six guards pulled away. The arrow shrank to a tiny circle when we were directly above the convoy, the dot moving forward and back as we passed or fell behind.

“Spirits take me,” I grumbled. “Ro, we’re following that carriage down there. They’re headed for the capital, but we’re meant to stay with them. Don’t follow too closely, but keep them in sight.”

“Yes, Lady,” he called back to me, his voice carrying on the wind whipping across his body.

We followed the carriage for hours until they stopped alongside the road for lunch. My hands tired from gripping the handles for so long, Ro and I set down a few miles ahead. I unwrapped the bundle from the cook while Ro stabbed at fish in the lazy river beside us. When our bellies were full, I checked the compass once more.

“They’re moving again, ahead of us now,” I said.

Taking to the sky, I scanned the road, searching for our quarry. They must not have stopped for long, as they were much farther ahead than I’d thought they’d be.

“Lady, trouble is there,” Ro said.

“Trouble?” I craned my neck over his wing. “What do you mean…”

Below me, the carriage was stopped. A large tree laid across the road, three royal guards fallen around it. From what I could see, eight men in dark clothing surrounded the remaining party, the prince and his companions on their knees, weapons pointed at their throats.

Bandits.

“Ro, we must help them!” I shouted. I looked around, frantic for a solution. Not far from the carriage, a lake glistened in the sunlight, giving me an idea. “Can you carry any off in your talons? It won’t have to be for long, only to toss them away into that water.”

“Like deer hunting, Lady,” he said. “Only their swords are a bit sharper than antlers.”

“Be quick!” I said, and we dove.

The ground barreled up at us as we descended, and I clung to the handles with all of my strength. At the last moment, Ro pulled up, taking a bandit in each of his claws. Over the tree line, he dropped them into the water, the men screaming in terror as they fell. I bit back my horror at being party to such violence, but there was a good chance the men survived. Despite my loathing for fighting, I had no choice in the matter. If Willem was the key to finding my mother, he had to be protected.

After another round of swooping in, the odds were more in favor of the ambushed caravan, and the guards still living went on the offensive. A brief glance on a third pass showed the prince and Lord DeBauch fighting as well, their swords drawn and engaged with a would-be robber each. When we returned from dispatching the last man we grabbed, the fighting was over, six dark-clad bodies joining the three guards in death.

“We need to land,” I said. “They’ll panic if they think a monster is after them.”

“A monster, Lady?” Ro said. “I am no—”

“I know, friend,” I interrupted, “but they don’t. Let’s cure their ignorance. I think good will come of it.”

He circled the site of the battle warily. “I am not so certain, Lady.”

“I’ll not let them harm you. I swear on my life.” Magic tingled at the back of my skull, and I panicked slightly. What would happen if I failed to keep my promise?

He circled once more, hesitant. “Then I will trust you.”

“Go slow, friend,” I said. “The rush of a fight is with them. We must be careful.”

“Yes, Lady.”

Ro slowly spiraled downwards, towards the fallen tree. A dozen feet above the ground, I heard the sound of swords unsheathing, and I released the handles. The restraints fell away, and I pushed up, letting the party see me clearly.

“Lower your weapons,” I called to them. “We’re not your enemies.” I slid off of the saddle and jumped from the log.

“Jack?”

I looked at Willem as he pushed to the front of the group, startled by his use of my name, and backed up a pace. “We saw the attack, Your Highness,” I said with extra emphasis on his title. “Are any of you hurt?”

He stared at me, open-mouthed as he looked back and forth between me and Ro. “What?”

When I took a step forward, the three guards pushed in front of him, swords at the ready, and I held up my hands in surrender. “We came to help. Are you all safe?”

“Fascinating,” came a murmur from Lady Jacinda, her head poking out of the carriage. “You tame monsters with your music as well?”

I dropped my hands and scowled. “Ro isn’t a monster. He’s my friend. And he’s helped save your lives, so I think he’s due a bit of gratitude.”