The Stillness of the Sky (23 page)

I closed my eyes and thought for a moment. Of all the things I’d encountered on my journey, a recurring theme echoed in every step. Wherever I went, regret touched all I saw and lined every face. Not even Willem was immune to it. My mother carried much of it with her. There was one amongst my audience that morning that should’ve perhaps had a little more. If it were within my power to do so, I would show him.

Eerie notes in a minor key drifted from my lute, my voice joining it soon enough. My words spoke of chances not taken and opportunities for good squandered. I let the melody carry my wish for others to know the warmth of a heart filled with kindness. Humanity at its pinnacle were people who spent lives pursuing happiness not out of selfish need, but out of love for others, to give gifts of selfless acts that cost nothing, but were often the most difficult to bestow. I mourned for those who didn’t know such joy, and celebrated those who saw the worth in helping others. At the end, I left them with the hope that no matter what had passed, there was always a way to be better.

I took a deep breath as I finished, the last reserves of my energy spent. Without a word, I excused myself from the meal and retreated to my room.

An hour or so later, the knock I’d been expecting finally sounded on my door. I’d barely opened it when Will stalked in, my mother trailing behind him. The look on her face spoke volumes about what she thought of my performance.

“You’re careless,” she said. “I played for thirty minutes to keep the king from flying into a rage. Honestly, Jack, what were you thinking?”

My nostrils flared as I scowled at her. A number of harsh replies hovered on my tongue, but I bit them back. “I’m exhausted. The king’s opinion of me doesn’t—”

Will stepped up to me, setting his hands on my shoulders. “It does matter. A great deal. I know my father, Jack, and I must warn you of his temper. If he’s willing to fight an impossible war to save his pride, what care would he have for disposing of a Bard who displeased him before lunch? If not for your sake, think of me.”

“I’d hoped my song might soften him on that war issue,” I said, frowning. “What sort of man wouldn’t regret so many lives lost for no purpose?”

“A man you’d do well not to cross,” my mother said, sinking into a chair. “Believe me, I’m well acquainted with his type.”

“He isn’t as terrible as that,” Will argued. “He misses his son and would move the heavens to bring him home. I’m sure you understand such a parental impulse.”

I sighed. “Oh, enough, the both of you. Honestly, if all you’ve come for is to lecture me, save your breath and go.” Crossing to the balcony, I opened the doors to let the air in. “But if you’ve come with something useful, please feel free to begin at your leisure.”

When I sat, I waited for them to make up their minds. The first to drop it, my mother waved the matter aside. “Very well, but my warning still stands.” She pointed Willem to a chair.

After he’d situated himself with more ceremony than was necessary, he plastered a serene smile on his face. “Your mother informs me that she has something that might be of use in solving our mutual problem.”

I looked at her. “You do?”

Reluctantly, she nodded. “It’s why I wasn’t able to come and find you the moment I learned of Alder’s death. I was actually searching for a means to…” She paused, frowning. “A means to make up for my mistakes when I heard the news. I’d been slowly making my way back to that castle, you see. It was where he hid his most dangerous weapons. I thought there’d be something there I could use.”

“The castle where you found him?” I asked. “It still stands?”

“Of course. It’s hidden between jungle and mountains, and with the spells lifted from it, nature is reclaiming it, but it’s there.” My mother produced a flat obsidian disc from her pocket, large enough to cover the palm of her hand. “He’d moved much of what I’d thought to look for, but I did find this.”

I peered at it, hesitant to touch anything that belonged to such a person. “What is it?”

She held it up to me, turning it this way and that. “It’s harmless in most cases. There are very few who would want to use it, and fewer of those who could do so. It can be either madness or salvation, depending on who commands it. You see, this is a Resonant Stone. Only the most powerful of Bards have the ability required for its magic.”

I squinted at it, seeing nothing extraordinary about it. “Only Bards? What does it do?”

“It amplifies our talents using the very earth itself. This stone is the purest mineral in the entire world. All manner of rocks and soil contain a bit of this, but the amount I hold in my hand right now is a greater concentration than you’ll find scattered over any given ten square miles combined. This mineral connects spirits with the land. With this, a Bard can send their magic out for miles in every direction, touching the hearts of every living creature. With this, a Bard could bend armies to their will.”

Prince Willem sucked in a loud breath. “So much power in one person’s hands has horrifying potential.”

My mother nodded. “Which is why only a Bard can command it. We’ve no use for thrones or empires. Our very nature prevents it. However, when our way of life is threatened, we have a means of correcting humanity’s course.”

Sitting back in my chair, I tried to sort the sense of it. “You’ve a mind to stop this war?”

“I have.”

“Why?”

She blinked at me as though I’d spoken another language. “What?”

“Why do you want to stop it? Why now? Why wait so long? If you knew this thing existed, and you knew where to get it, why did it take you two years to do so?” After all I’d heard from her, I wasn’t about to assume selflessness on her part. As much as I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, I couldn’t ignore the hints of unspoken horrors she’d helped into being.

She stared at her lap, her fingers gliding over the disc. “Because of you, Jack.”

I crossed my arms. “Explain.”

She sighed heavily. “I couldn’t risk a trip to the castle any earlier. It was too dangerous for me and might’ve put you in harm’s way. When I heard of the Sericean queen’s passing, I saw a window of opportunity. Liras… Alder, rather, would’ve been busy managing his kingdoms and dealing with Moran’s army at the border. With his attention occupied elsewhere, I finally had a chance. Shortly after I arrived, someone paid me a visit: a golden fairy by the name of Quistis. This war, it’s much more serious than a simple feud. What Ivor’s begun could turn giants against all of humanity, upsetting the very balance of the world. Giants are protectors by nature, guardians. This war has the potential to alter that forever. Quistis told me that maybe two of the Bards in this world could tap into the full potential of the Resonant Stone, but that only one had the purity of heart to find a peaceful resolution.”

Her eyes lifted to me, shining with tears. “It’s you, Jack.”

“Me?” I stared at her in disbelief. “Barely a month with my gifts and I could use such a thing?”

I’d swear that she aged twenty years as I watched her. “It isn’t only your talents as a Bard that give you such power, Jack. Your father…” She swallowed heavily. “Your father was one of the greatest magi that ever was. A child with such parentage is unheard of in this world. I can only guess at the vast power you’re capable of controlling.”

“But I don’t want that,” I said, shaking my head furiously. “I don’t want power. I don’t want to command armies or conquer nations. I don’t want to control anything or anyone.”

Will’s hand slipped into mine, soothing my near panic back to a milder form of fear. “Which is why you’re perfect, Jack. Those who crave that sort of power would never have anything but ill intentions for the world.”

“There must be some mistake,” I insisted. “This fairy, Quistis, he mentioned one other that could use the stone. What of them?”

My mother stared long and hard at the dark object in her grasp. After a minute or two, she stood and knelt before me, placing the disc in my free hand and wrapped my fingers around it.

“After all I’ve done, all I’ve helped to be done, I’m wise enough to recognize my weaknesses. The shadow on my heart, my regrets and selfish desires, it would taint any good I’d think to do. Though my intentions are well-placed, the evil that’s touched my spirit might be more than I can fight against. I won’t risk forcing you into a position I was in long ago, a position where I wasn’t strong enough to make the right choice. If I dared to use this object, there’s a definite possibility you’d be forced to stop me permanently.”

“You?” I whispered.

“I’m the other who could wield it, Jack.” She pressed my hand against the stone. “He trained me well enough that I could likely do as you do, though that came through endless practice rather than raw talent. It comes from a dark place. If you refuse this mission, I’ll have no choice, but I fear the results of my doing so might be worse than the path ahead if I do nothing.”

Her gaze bore into me with such pleading, such regret for her mistakes, the very air around me compressed, squeezing my chest. What she was giving me was the chance to commit the ultimate kindness.

A chance to save the world.

My voice was thin, exhausted and overcome by the task before me. “What must I do?”

My mother’s relief was palpable, and she gathered me in a sudden, frantic embrace. “I swear on my life I’ll do all I can to help you in this, Jack. Whatever burden of it I can bear, I’ll not leave it all to you.”

Breathing through the enormity of what lay before me, I relaxed in her arms. “Then I suppose I’ve work to do. Worlds don’t save themselves.”

“How can I help?” Willem asked. “If there’s anything you need, I’ll do what I can.”

My mother pulled away from me to look at him. “Do you love her?”

“Mother!” My face burned in embarrassment.

“Without reservation.”

Admitting as much to me was startling, but to say so to my mother? I was shocked into silence. His expression was as solid and unwavering as stone, so earnest I felt utterly powerless in its shadow.

“Even if her actions result in irreparable changes in your family?”

His brows drew down, expressing the same confusion swirling inside myself. “What changes?”

She stood, looking down on him with skepticism. “To stop this war, she may be forced to make a choice. Those who can’t be swayed from this violence may require another solution.”

I gasped back an urge to vomit when I realized what other solution she had in mind. “I could never go so far. I won’t.”

“You may not have a choice, Jack,” she said. “There is evil is this world that cannot be altered, only stopped.”

I got to my feet, furious. “There is always another way. And even if not,” I focused on Will, reading the torn disgust on his face, “I’d never ask another person to condone such an action. Whatever choices must be made, they’re mine, and I won’t run from the consequences of whatever it is I do of my own free will.”

He shut his eyes and sighed. “She’s right, Jack.”

“What? How can you say—”

“He’s changed these past few years. The man I knew as my father has been replaced by a stranger. Before this war began, before my brother left, he would never have contemplated such an undertaking. I fear that, so long as he lives, this purpose is the only thing of importance. So much defeat with no results has turned him into a man bent on destruction. Whatever it is you must do to protect our people, and everyone affected by this war, I’ll not question you.”

I clutched at the Resonant Stone, frustrated tears burning on my cheeks. “You speak of it as though I’ve already carried out his execution.”

He shook his head. “I speak of it as a man who sees the truth in your mother’s words. It’s a very real possibility. Being prepared for that eventuality will steel me against it should it come to pass.”

“Practicality is a poor excuse for lack of hope.”

“Jack—”

I waved him off. “Do what you must. I’ll keep the hope for all of us.” Turning away from him, I firmed up my resolve, looking to my mother for the next step on my journey. “Tell me what I must do.”

She studied my face, perhaps searching it for any second thoughts I had. With none to show her, she nodded in affirmation. “You must go to the center of the battle. Winning the hearts of the soldiers is important, but convincing those who lead them is crucial. They must be there as well.”

“Get the king to the front lines?” I nearly laughed. “He doesn’t strike me as a man given to such behavior.”

“Actually,” Willem said. “He’s planned a visit to the main encampment next week. As the festival here was intended to lift the morale of the civilian population, he’s seeking to bolster his soldiers as well. Since they can’t withdraw from their position, he means to go to them.” He bit back a sad smile. “It was actually my suggestion from a letter I wrote him as I traveled. I visited Gustave, who leads the fight from the field, and I was quite adamant that hearing conviction from the lips of their king, and seeing his determination and faith, would give them the fuel they needed to continue fighting. He plans to leave in two days’ time.”

“Then we shall accompany him,” my mother said. “Certainly he’d not turn down such an offer. It would give us time to soften him to the idea of peace as well.”

The thought of spending days in a carriage with King Ivor turned my stomach. “I’ll not be traveling that way. I have other means of doing so that don’t involve being leered at.”

“But, Jack—”

I cut off her argument. “You can do what you can to convince him as you go. What I’ll have to do requires a lighter spirit than what I’d have after so many hours in his company. I need time. I need to be inspired. If I’m to save everyone, I need reminders that they’re worth saving, things to hold on to, to focus on, if I hope to sway others with my feelings.”

“And when do you plan to go?” Willem said quietly.

I considered him, torn between his happiness and the freedom of the sky. Time was running out, but I could give him some of what was left.

“I’ll leave in the morning.”

Chapter 19

After lunch a carriage saw me back to the Minkov home to collect my things and say goodbye. Prudence pleaded with teary eyes for me to stay, but her parents did their best to console her. I tried to return the fine clothing they’d given me, but was offered a trade instead. A fresh tunic and breeches and a sturdy traveling cloak replaced form with function, and it was the only way they’d let me leave. I did promise Prudence I’d return to see the doll she’d begun crafting in my likeness, knowing that if I died on my mission there’d be little pain involved in breaking my word to her.