The Stillness of the Sky (6 page)

I blinked. The vision disappeared, replaced by the double doors in front of me. In my thrall of nostalgia, I’d moved toward the music without realizing what I was doing. For the first time since I heard the lute, I retreated a pace. The magic of the music caused me to forego all caution, a thing I couldn’t afford as I skulked in the passages of a giant’s castle. The level of danger I faced did not afford me any lapse in concentration. Surely I’d be caught if I continued on that way.

But the source of the music was on the other side of those doors. I was certain of it. I had to see who played so well that it completely transported me to another time and place. If a person existed that could weave such a spell, I wanted to know them and see them with my own eyes.

Crouching once more, I crawled under the door, this time as close to the side as I could manage. Should a giant come or go, it would be much easier to conceal myself if I weren’t directly in the center of the entrance.

Upon clearing the door, I was once again rendered speechless by my surroundings. An enormous study awaited me, bookshelves lining every wall, sometimes broken by a statue or painting or object encased in a glass dome. And these objects… I’d never seen such wonders. Crystal spheres spun and circled each other, a thing I thought was called an orrery, as my mother once described one to me. She told me it was how planets and stars moved around one another, though I could scarcely imagine such movements on a grand scale. Further along I spotted a gleaming sword supported by two silver posts, though the thing gave me shivers if I looked at it overlong. A motionless butterfly perched on an amber twig, a single spray of purple blossoms blooming near the base of it. Even from that distance, the insect looked at least my size, with each of its iridescent wings taller than me if I stretched and stood on my toes.

I pulled my gaze from the collection along the walls, turning my attention to the center of the room. Two golden cages sat on a table, one empty, the other filled with what looked like furniture. A bed was pushed up to one side, a table and chairs to the other. Two plush armchairs sat in the center, but only one was occupied.

A young man, as best I could tell, sat and strummed a gilded lute, his face angled down at it in concentration as his fingers strummed the strings. His hair shone a brilliant reddish gold in the sunlight streaming in from above, but I could discern little else about him from that distance. He was a normal human from what I could see, yet the music he created filled the entire space, drawing me from rooms away.

When my gaze shifted from him, the air stuck in my lungs. There, smiling happily, was the largest woman I’d ever seen. Were it not for her size, I could’ve mistaken her for a fine lady, perhaps a friend to a queen or princess, with beautiful silver embroidery on her rose-colored skirt, and her black hair piled in intricate braids on top of her head. Her skin reminded me of a pie I’d once baked a little too long, the crust deepening in color from a golden brown to almost charred, but not quite. I was no pale beauty myself with my own olive skin, but her darkness surprised me. I’d seen none her color but once when a peddler passed through selling wares from three kingdoms south of us. The exotic feathers and hides and oddly curved daggers hanging from the eaves of his wagon captivated me as he passed by, though I could never afford such things, and my father forbade me from speaking to travelers. More than anything, I’d wished to ask the traveler about where he’d come from, as stories were often free and the closest I’d get to distant travel.

The giantess shifted in her chair, resting her head against the back of its plush, red velvet cushion. Her eyes closed as the musician’s song shifted into a sweet lullaby, and soon, she snored softly in slumber. When he finished, the man set his lute in the unoccupied seat beside him, stood, and stretched. He studied the giantess for a moment, but I couldn’t see his face to know if he stared in hateful displeasure, boredom, or contented contemplation. Was he happy to be kept in such a cage? Surely someone of his talent would wish to be out in the world, sharing his gift with anyone he could. What wealth he might acquire, as certainly he could perform for kings and queens without question.

Since the giantess slept, it might be my only opportunity. If the man wished for freedom, I might be his last chance for it. I slunk along the base of a bookcase, listening for any change in the giantess’s breathing, but she continued on as she was, a wheezing “feeeeee…” escaping her at every exhale.

Rather than run, I tiptoed across the open space of the room towards the table. A single wide leg supported it up the center, the wood intricately carved in a replica of the beanstalk I’d climbed to get to the garden, only smaller. From the base of it, I stared up, trying to convince my arms that one more short ascent was all they need give me. Though they protested silently, they saw me halfway up before other parts of me voiced their displeasure. I froze when my stomach growled, reminding me quite loudly of my empty belly. Cringing, I whipped my head towards the legs of the giantess and tuned my ears for signs of wakefulness. A sudden, snorting “foe!” interrupted the wheezing, but she resettled and returned to napping.

Begging my stomach to hold off on any further interruptions, I continued my climb, reaching the top and following a thinner vine from the center of the underside to the outer edge of the tabletop. With a final heave, I pulled myself up and over, trying my utmost not to gasp as I clung to a deep scratch in the wood. When my legs at last rested on the surface, I remained on all fours, catching my breath as quietly as I could.
 

I was not at all prepared to meet a set of bright green eyes watching me when I looked up.

Chapter 5

I nearly yelped I was so startled. A man no more than twenty-five gazed at me, an amused grin playing at the corners of his mouth. He crossed his arms and waited, unsure of what I would do next, but clearly very entertained.

I broke away from his stare and looked over at the giantess, still wheezing away, then hurried around the cage to the side with the door. The man followed me there, but didn’t seem overly rushed.

“If we hurry, we can be away before she wakes,” I whispered at him, frowning at the lock.

“Away?” he replied, not overly loud, but more so than I’d have preferred.

“Yes,” I said. “Back outside and down the beanstalk. Then you won’t be a prisoner anymore. You’ll be free. Do you know if there’s a key?”

He chuckled into his hand. “There may very well be, but we’ve no use for one.”

I straightened, confused. “We haven’t? But the cage, it’s—” My words halted as he lifted a small lever and the door swung open with a squeak. “Not locked.”

Stupidly gaping, I tried to comprehend the turn of events. “Then, you’re not a prisoner?”

He shook his head.

“You’re here by choice?”

He nodded.

“But…” I scratched at my scalp beneath my cap. “Why? Why would you want to be kept in a cage?”

His loud laugh made me jump, and I whirled to see if the noise had woken the giantess. Her eyes were still closed, but his hand on my shoulder spooked me again, and I spun back to him, coiled to run to the table’s edge in retreat.

His grin shifted into a kind smile. “It isn’t a cage, simply a place to put furniture my size where it won’t be stepped on or misplaced. It’s my home.” Stepping aside, he motioned me in. “Care for a cup of tea? You’ve come all this way. Seems the hospitable thing to offer you some refreshment, my would-be rescuer.”

Boggled, my mind couldn’t decide on a better plan of action. The man was considerably taller, more well-fed, and likely stronger than I was. It wasn’t as though I could force him to come with me. What could I do, sling him over my shoulder and carry him out? He seemed nice enough, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d tasted real tea. Perhaps he might have a bit of bread as well, that I’d have at least that to quiet my stomach.

Warily, I stepped inside the cage. He closed the door behind me as though it were a normal day and I was visiting a normal house on a normal patch of land. With all the manners of a finely educated lord, he saw me to a chair at the table and busied himself with pulling things from a sideboard not far away. Before long, a white teapot with little blue flowers sat in front of me, two matching cups, saucers, and a sugar bowl beside it. Lastly, he placed a plate of beautiful butter cookies between us and sat down across from me. Unable to fully comprehend it all, I watched him pour steaming hot tea from the pot over two sugar cubes before sliding it to me, repeating the preparation for himself.

“It’s been a very long time since I’ve had a human visitor,” he said, picking up his cup. “I must admit to being very curious about how you came here.”

I stared at my cup, mute.

“Oh dear,” he frowned, “I didn’t even ask if you wanted sugar. My apologies. I’m a bit out of practice.”

Lifting my eyes to him, I asked the only question I could think of. “Who are you?”

He blinked at me. “Who am… You mean you don’t know?”

Slowly, I shook my head.

He chuckled again. “Well, now I feel even sillier for my manners.” He pushed away from the table and stood, then bowed to me, his strawberry blond hair draping down across his face. “Aaron Maldavian, eldest son of Ivor, King of Litania.”

Shocked, I pushed away from the table, my chair toppling over backwards behind me. “Prince Aaron? Heir to the throne Prince Aaron?”

His expression soured. “Unfortunately, yes. Would that I were otherwise, but I wasn’t consulted on the matter.”

Words completely failed me, as did my brain. Should I bow? Kneel? Curtsy? Could one curtsy in breeches? Would I offend him if I didn’t? He seemed none too pleased at his title, so perhaps it was better to not. How did one speak to royalty? I’d never thought to find myself in such company, so I’d never given the process much consideration. A prince? And in a cage by choice, at that. What bizarre, upside-down world had I stumbled into?

“This is the part where you give me your name,” Prince Aaron prompted.

“I’m… My name is Jack, Highness,” I managed to say, bending my knees slightly in a half-witted compromise between a bow and a curtsy.

His eyebrows lifted. “Jack?”

I swallowed my stupidity, silently cursing my uncooperative tongue. “Jacqueline Wallace, Highness. I’ve no title to my name, though.”

His eyes widened. “Jacqueline? But you’re only a…”

My face heated, embarrassed and a little vexed that it mattered at all that I was a girl.

“You weren’t sent by my father, then?”

His question did nothing for my confusion. “Your father? The king? Does he normally send young girls to climb up into the clouds to see you?” I frowned at myself. “Seems odd he would, given the war and all, though maybe he’s too short on soldiers to send them instead.”

“Oh dear,” Prince Aaron said, frowning along with me. “I believe we’ve much to talk about. Would you stay for dinner?”

“Dinner?”

He looked over my shoulder. “Is it all right, Lady Oria?”

Icy cold fear shot down my spine. In my preoccupation with Prince Aaron, I’d completely forgotten who sat beside the golden cage. Slowly, I turned myself, meeting the two huge eyes of a very awake giantess.

Her lips were pursed, likely quite displeased at the presence of an intruder. “I suppose she doesn’t eat much,” she said, her voice rattling both the cage and my nerves. “How’d she get here?”

“Something about a beanstalk,” Prince Aaron said, though I couldn’t turn from the giantess.

She gave an impatient huff that stirred my clothes and threatened to take my cap. “Bloody fairies. I swear they hand out seeds to nearly anyone anymore, and no one ever listens to the two at the most advice.” She backed away from the cage and crossed her arms. “What use is this one? You know I can’t let her run to tell your father about this, and the beanstalk has to go immediately. So much trouble, you humans. If not for your playing, Aaron, I’d be done with the lot of you.”

The prince laughed. “My lady, I’m sure Jack would be happy to entertain you, just as I am. She looks as though she’s got at least one good story to tell.”

“A story? Fie on that. I’d do better to grind her bones for my bread.”

My knees wobbled, and I had to steady myself against the table.

The prince stepped over to me, reassuring me with an arm around my shoulders. “Nonsense,” he said. “I’m sure Jack has plenty of talents. For your bread, indeed. There’s no need to frighten the girl.”

Lady Oria leaned forward again, studying every inch of me. “Can she sing?”

When I didn’t immediately respond, Prince Aaron squeezed my shoulder a little. “I… I…” I stammered. “A bit, My Lady, but I’ve never—”

“Perfect!” Prince Aaron said. “You’ve been wanting that exact thing, My Lady. I haven’t that gift, myself, so here you have one who does. Why not let her show you after we’ve had the evening meal? Certainly Jack must be tired from her journey. It’ll give her time to get her strength back.”

Me? Singing for a prince and a giantess who seemed to be royalty herself? In that moment, I sorely wished I’d never closed my eyes beside that creek or climbed that wretched beanstalk.

I’d surely be dead before dessert.

Although I was starved, I could only eat half of the fruit and vegetable plate I was given for dinner. Sugared peach and strawberry slices, diced small from the enormous fruit they came from, sat in a dish to the side, their juices sparkling in the light and begging for me to take another bite. Chopped carrots and sweet peppers formed a semi-circle around the half-eaten tan paste of beans and garlic I’d been slightly suspect of at first, but which proved to be deliciously filling. I wished I could eat more, yet my insides were twisted with nerves at the thought of what was coming.

“You mentioned something about a war earlier,” Prince Aaron said after swallowing a bite of carrot. “What war is this? Litania was peaceful when I left. Has something happened with the Bernish king? I never did like that man.”

“Bernish king? From what little I know, King Ormond and Queen Clarice are quite peaceful. They’re still settling, so there’s a little adjustment, but I’ve not seen it for myself. I’ve never been further from home than I have the past week.” Perhaps I was rather sheltered from the world in many aspects, but I couldn’t imagine how he didn’t know that, being a prince himself.