by Jann Rowland
“What is this metal?” Tierra asked. Its weight reminded her of gold, but it was white in color instead of the distinctive golden hue that would have made her certain of its composition. “I do not think I have ever seen its like.”
“We call it ‘white gold,’ though I do not know how similar it is to what you would typically call gold.
“There is a mountain that drifts over the ocean which is much larger than Skymount—at least four or five times as large. It’s the largest of our settlements, and it carries several of our communities. We grow great amounts of food there, and it helps feed a good portion of our people. That mountain is the only place we’ve ever found white gold, and it’s traditional to make our wedding bracelets from this substance. All our other precious metals come from the Groundwalkers. This is something of our own that we do not share.”
Tierra choked up slightly. The fact that he was willing to share it with her—a Groundbreather—spoke volumes as to his feelings for her.
Seeking to cover her sudden emotion, Tierra laughed and chided gently, “You Skychildren should be careful. If you make too many holes in that mountain, you might cause it to disintegrate underneath you.”
Skye grinned. “We’re exceptionally careful. And like I said, it is a big place.” Grasping her hand in his, he turned the bracelet over, and Tierra noticed something engraved on the inside.
Leaning forward, Tierra peered at it and read, “For all eternity. Rulers, friends, and helpmeets, bound in love.”
“Oh, Skye!” Tierra exclaimed as she launched herself into his arms, her tears running freely. This was so like him. He was at times stubborn and difficult, but he had the heart of a romantic, and he was not too shy to reveal it to her, though he felt uncomfortable doing so with anyone else.
Pulling away after a few moments, Tierra smiled through her tears and said, “Well, what are you waiting for? Help me put it on.”
Skye chuckled. “I don’t think so. These are meant to be put on when we’re married. Most married couples rarely remove them once they are in place. You will have to wait until our wedding.”
“I never knew Skychildren were such silly sentimentalists,” Tierra teased.
A grin was her response. “Someone has to be. Not everyone can be serious and mean all the time like you Groundbreathers.”
Tierra laughed and swatted him on the shoulder. She then settled in front of him, leaning against his chest while he pressed his back against the tree. She felt the whisper of a hand as he ran his fingers through her hair.
“What do your people do to solemnize marriage?” Skye asked after a few moments.
“Oh, we merely have a typical marriage ceremony.”
“You’re talking to a Skychild here,” Skye said with a laugh. “I wouldn’t know typical for you Groundbreathers if it hit me in the face.”
Tierra shook her head in amusement. “It is a ceremony performed by one of our priests. He says a prayer over the couple and recites vows with them to bind them together with bonds blessed by Terrain.”
“Do you have any physical reminders?”
Tierra shook her head. “Our god is not sentimental. The couples’ names are recorded, but all else is deemed internal. A couple might share water from the Pool of Terrain to show their devotion, but that is rarely done now.” Twisting, Tierra looked at Skye. “How is it with the Skychildren?”
“We say our vows to one another,” he told her. “We have no priests, so there is no one to lead the ceremony. A marriage is simply between two people. Of course, when one of the people getting married is someone fixed in the public’s eye, such as the ruler of the Skychildren or the leader of a community, there are often a lot of preparations and celebrations, and the vows may be said in the presence of witnesses. But no witnesses are actually required.”
Skye’s expression turned questioning. “You say you don’t have any external signs of marriage, yet you were in tears when I showed these to you . . . despite the fact that it’s an ‘external’ show of commitment.”
Tierra pulled away and favored him with a stern gaze, though she allowed hints of humor to bleed through their mental bond. “I am glad that you love me enough to share in your Skychildren traditions, even if they are antiquated and heretical,” she said. Then, unable to maintain the solemn look any longer, she favored him with a laugh. “Besides, even though I do not often wear jewelry, I do appreciate any grandiose gestures of love.”
“I do love you, Tierra,” Skye said, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you enough to give you the world, should you desire it.” He reached out and grasped her hand, which still held the bracelet. “You are likely the first Groundbreather to ever wear one of these. I trust you understand the honor you’ve been given.”
“I do, Skye,” Tierra said. Then she leaned forward and captured his lips with hers.
It was some time before any other words passed between them.
When Stonedog at last led his fellow Groundbreathers into the room where the Fenik was kept, they found the creature waiting there, a magnificent yet terrible figure. Still, some of the men under Stonedog’s command murmured at the sight, wondering how the creature could have been deemed such a great threat.
“It is nothing but a bird,” said they, sneering at the creature. “This thing is to bring about our destruction?” And in this manner, they protested and grumbled, saying Stonedog had led them to the sky realm in vain.
“Do you question Terrain?” asked Stonedog. “He has commanded me, and so I obey. I know not of what this creature is capable, but I will trust in Terrain.”
The power of Stonedog’s voice was the mighty roar of rocks tumbling from a great height, and his voice was infused with the authority of the god above all, and those who heard it were confounded and dared not speak against him again.
The sight of the Groundbreathers caused the creature to snap and shriek, and Stonedog rushed forward, quelling the thrashing Fenik. It cried out, as though begging for Skychildren to save it, and the Groundbreathers knew they needed to move with haste if they were to escape the Skychild palace.
And so, after binding the creature, they ran through the palace, calling on Terrain to aid their flight, carrying the Fenik among them, praying that they would be able to escape to the ground realm.
CHAPTER
THREE
Questions
Later, Skye returned to the palace, his senses alive with her. Never before had he realized what it meant to be in love with someone. Even with all their differences, he knew she would never betray him, and he would have possessed an absolute confidence of trust in her even if their connection via the water had not existed. It was a heady feeling . . . and at times threatened to overwhelm him.
Almost as soon as he returned to his home, however, his sense of peace and belonging was replaced by the bustle of the palace. It had been ever thus since the victory over the Fenik, and the pace would not slacken anytime soon. Here and there about the perimeter and inside the outer walls of the palace, workers swarmed, inspecting, repairing, and replacing great blocks of stone which had been rent apart by the fury of the battle.
True to her promise to repair the palace, Tierra had arranged for some of the Groundbreathers’ most skilled stonemasons to be transported up to the sky realm for the purpose of assisting with rebuilding. Most of them were heavyset men and women, and when they manipulated the materials before them, it was as though all the stones were putty in their hands. Their work was nearing completion, and Skye fancied that the repaired portions of the walls would be almost indistinguishable from the older parts. It was wondrous, and it gave Skye a new appreciation for the Groundbreathers.
No sooner had Skye stepped into the palace than he was greeted by his stepmother, who bustled up to him.
“Skye, you’re returning late, and there’s so much to do!” Mista exclaimed. She took his arm and propelled him down the hall. “Of course, I suppose it is so much more pleasant to spend time below with your young w
oman than it is to be in the chaos of the palace. But I am so excited! I can hardly wait until Tierra is living among us permanently!”
Mista continued to chatter as they walked, and Skye could only gaze at her with exasperation, though the feeling was not tinged with the dislike he had felt toward her not long before. While he still viewed the woman as childlike, he had almost grown fond of her now that she was away from the influence of her uncle. She would never be mentally gifted, but he was grateful for how welcome she had made Tierra feel in the sky realm.
He had to grudgingly admit there was something appealing about the idea of knowing someone so unassuming that they would accept anyone without a true perception of their merits as a person. It was naïve, certainly, but he never had to worry about Mista being anything other than what she was. He simply needed to ensure she was never in a position where someone might find it worthwhile to manipulate her.
In the midst of Mista’s babbling about the upcoming coronation, she said something that caught Skye’s attention: “And hopefully it will not be as windy as it was when Cirrus was freed from prison.”
“What did you say?” Skye interrupted, forcing her to pause in the hallway.
She tilted her head and looked at him. “I was saying that I hope we will have good weather. We want to make a good impression on Tierra’s people, don’t we?”
“No, I meant what you said about Cirrus,” Skye specified. “You know something about the night he escaped from prison?”
“I remember something about the weather,” she said, though slowly, the distance of remembrance coming over her face. “Of course, I didn’t know he had been freed then; I thought that he had died and that Celesta was howling in despair. When the palace became dark as night, I was terrified. It didn’t rain, but the wind sounded so frightening that nobody knew what was happening.”
“So it’s true then?” Skye asked with a frown. “I had heard there were strange events the night Cirrus was freed, but no one seemed to want to talk about it.”
“I guess,” Mista said, seeming uncomfortable now that she appeared to have realized he was asking a question of substance. “I don’t know if it was really related to Cirrus, but that was the night it happened.”
“Have you heard anything else about it?”
“I heard a few rumors that it was Celesta showing her displeasure with my uncle,” Mista said in a small voice, staring down at the tiles beneath her feet.
Realizing he was beginning to upset her, Skye decided to withdraw from his current line of questioning. There was no choice but to go to Cirrus himself. It was possible the man would try to avoid any such conversation—he had seemed reticent of late when it came to speaking with Skye—but he would have to figure out a way to convince him to talk.
As a means of putting his stepmother at ease, Skye asked, “Are the stables being prepared for the coronation?”
“Oh, yes!” Mista said, brightening. “Anyone who wishes to travel with style or speed shall be able to! Everything has been cleaned and given a fresh coat of paint, and they have ordered bedding and feed. There are plenty of stalls for griffins and for pegasi—oh! That reminds me! I have not been able to figure out a proper wedding present for you! Would you like a pegasus for yourself? Or perhaps a griffin? I know some princes in the past have particularly enjoyed riding griffins, though I have to admit they frighten me.”
“No, I don’t need a griffin,” Skye told her with a faint smile. “What I would really like is for you to speak with Tierra more about the party we’re having after the wedding.”
In actuality, Skye and Tierra were going to be married in dual ceremonies. They would have a traditional Groundbreather wedding, and they would also participate in the Skychildren exchange of vows. By doing so, both of their peoples would be allowed to witness their union. In addition, two receptions—again, one on the ground and one in the sky—were to be held, with prominent members of each society attending in the other’s realm. Mista, for better or worse, was assisting with the preparations for the wedding and the reception in the sky realm.
Skye continued, “I know that our event will be more about the Skychildren, but Tierra might want to have something related to her people’s traditions as well. You should see if there’s anything she particularly wants or anything we need to avoid that her people might find offensive.”
“I can do that,” Mista said eagerly. “But are you sure you don’t want a griffin for long-distance travel? They are supposed to be quite fast!”
Skye laughed. “I’m sure, but thank you.”
“Well, perhaps a pegasus then,” Mista muttered to herself. Before Skye could respond, she said, “Oh! I forgot to mention that Lord Eagleclaw and his wife and daughter are here. It will be some time before the coronation, of course, but Lady Airia said they had some business to attend to, and that’s why they came early.”
“Yes, I talked to Lord Eagleclaw, Lady Airia, and Eve this morning. They did not seem . . . pleased by the idea of my upcoming nuptials.”
“That is only because they do not know Tierra yet,” Mista said. “They can’t fail to love her once they do.”
Mista’s blind faith in Tierra made Skye smile. He doubted that Lord Eagleclaw and his wife would ever be pleased that Skye was choosing to marry a Groundbreather rather than Eve. But though Skye had to admit that Eve was just as beautiful as he had remembered her, he did not regret choosing Tierra. His feelings for Tierra eclipsed anything he could ever feel for Eve, and she was certainly no less beautiful.
But rather than go into such issues, Skye merely said, “Perhaps you’re right.”
He then allowed Mista to drag him around the palace, directing him to speak with this person and that person about something related to the coronation, the wedding, or the day-to-day doings of the realm. He had audiences ahead of him and a plethora of decisions to make, yet when he saw Cirrus speaking with an older man in the hallway, he knew he had to set all that aside for the moment.
“Mista,” he said quietly as he slowed to a stop, “I need to speak with Cirrus. If you could please excuse me, I’ll find you later. Thank you for all your assistance.”
The dowager queen paused, as though considering whether to protest, but then she nodded and left him, saying, “You’re welcome, Skye. I need to think about what I must discuss with Tierra anyway!”
As Skye drew nearer, a flicker of something not unlike displeasure crossed Cirrus’s face. But then the man gave a nod of dismissal to his conversation partner and favored the approaching prince with a smile.
“Skye,” Cirrus greeted as the older man left him. “I trust you are well?”
“I am. Are you?”
“Yes, I am,” Cirrus said. He crossed his arms and shrugged. “It seems the palace is quite the busy place lately.”
“It is.” Skye looked at his friend for a few moments, wondering why he felt so awkward speaking with someone he would have risked his life for. “I wonder if you might follow me to my rooms for a few minutes. There are some things I’d like to discuss with you in private.”
Cirrus frowned. “I don’t know, Skye. I’m actually sort of busy today—”
“It won’t take long,” Skye said. “We haven’t spoken much since the battle with the Fenik, and like I said, I have a few things I’d like to talk to you about.”
Cirrus gave him a long look before finally nodding. “I suppose there’s something I need to talk to you about as well.” His face broke out into a bright smile, and he clapped Skye on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”
The walk through the palace was accomplished quickly, though in an uncharacteristic silence, and it was not long before they stepped into Skye’s chambers.
His rooms were much like they had ever been, and Skye paid them little heed. A few people had suggested he needed to move into the king’s chambers, which his father had inhabited until recently, but Skye had not yet had the chance to seriously consider the matter. Even the Seneschal had not had time to claim
them for his own, which pleased Skye. They would have felt tainted had the man ever actually lived in them.
Besides, the idea of finally moving into the royal chambers with Tierra as his bride filled Skye with a sense of . . . well, for lack of a better term, rightness. Or perhaps belonging. The chambers would then be their rooms. If he moved in alone beforehand, it would not be the same.
The one change that had occurred recently was the addition of a new inhabitant to Skye’s rooms, and if Skye had forgotten about his roommate, he was reminded quickly enough, as the bird trilled loudly at his entrance.
“Strix,” Skye greeted the Fenik with a nod. The bird’s crimson color and ebony beak and legs were still visually jarring to Skye despite the fact that it had been more than three weeks since he had viewed the Fenik in its original bird form for the first time. For whatever reason, seeing “Strix” as an ungainly and ugly bird still seemed more natural than witnessing it as the most beautiful avian creature Skye had ever seen.
“Prince Skye,” the bird said formally in reply. Remarkably, the Fenik appeared to hold no particular grudge for the manner in which its plans had been thwarted, as it was always cordial and respectful toward anyone who spoke to it. Skye’s quick action in removing it from sight meant that it was essentially unknown as the Fenik, though the more astute among his subjects could recognize the connection. Still, Skye intended to say nothing about it, which meant that his subjects would have nothing more than speculation and rumor with which to amuse themselves. Hopefully, their memories would dim with time.
The bird’s eyes moved toward Cirrus, and it dipped its head. “Guardsman.”
Cirrus ignored the bird and fixed his eyes upon Skye. “You wanted to talk to me, Skye?”
“I have heard some rumors that I wanted your opinion about. For instance, there are stories all over the palace about the night you escaped. There’s a lot of talk about strange winds and darkness descending on Skymount. I was wondering if you knew what really happened.”
