Cloudwalkers

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  “Oh, there you are, dear,” Emma said to Conn, disengaging herself from her conversation with the older lady. She looked past Conn, as if searching for someone. “Where’s your date?”

  “My date?”

  “Lili, for goodness sakes. Would you have her enter the Gala alone without her betrothed? Sometimes I marvel that you ken how to put your shoes on in the morning. You’ll have to wait. Stand aside and let this other couple pass. Oh, and Father wants to speak with you. He said it’s important.”

  “Well, where is he?” Conn asked, glancing around.

  Not so gently, Emma began nudging him over to the side. “I have no idea. He’s probably back in the Callanish. Conn, please step aside, let your friend and his pretty young lady be properly introduced.”

  Conn did as told, feeling more than a little exasperated. Emma referred to the Callanish Standing Stones Room, a private dining hall with its own bar. There were other side rooms, ones used for smaller occasions, that were named after Scotland’s numerous, ancient standing stone monuments, like the Brodgar Room, for the Ring of Brodgar monument, and the Stenness Room, for the Standing Stones of Stenness.

  “So, are you lost, stupid, or just plain daft?”

  Conn spun around, more than ready to unleash his own volley of insults at whoever was spouting off. Surprised, he found his best friend, Toag, smiling back at him. His skin the color of dark caramel, with uncharacteristically hazel eyes for a man of color, Toag looked relaxed and happy. Shaking his head just enough to make his dreadlocks dance upon his shoulders, he clearly was showing off for someone. And that’s when Conn noticed her, a half-step behind Toag.

  She had clearly taken a bath since he saw her last, and in her soft pink gown—which fit far better than the rags she had been wearing—and her auburn hair gleaming in the soft light, she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Conn couldn’t take his eyes off her. Misty.

  Chapter 40

  Misty froze, not expecting to suddenly see Conn standing so close. She jerked her hand free from Toag’s grasp, then instantly regretted doing so. She hadn’t done anything wrong; she certainly didn’t belong to anyone. So why then do I feel so guilty for holding Toag’s hand?

  “Mist—”

  Toag quickly interrupted Conn. “Hey, this is Adaira Drummond. I’m not sure if you two have met. She doesnae get out all that much.”

  Conn closed his eyes for an extended beat, then shook his head in a gesture of self-deprecation. “Yes, of course. Hello Adaira. You look, um, verra nice tonight.”

  “Thank you, Conn, and you look like you’d rather be anywhere but here,” she replied, hoping her Scottish accent sounded both real and natural.

  Conn laughed, which in turn made Toag laugh. Misty wasn’t sure if it was because she’d totally fobbed her Skylander dialect, or because she’d nailed it so perfectly. She realized Conn was still staring at her so intensely she was beginning to feel self-conscious. Suddenly, she was conscious of her low neckline, and her exposed cleavage. In her entire life she had never before revealed so much skin in public. Most definitely this would be a flogging offense beneath the cloudbank. The ornate pink gown she wore was on loan from Maggie’s mother. A sweet, good-humored lady, she had assured Misty the day had long passed when she’d be able to squeeze into such a tight garment again. Even so, with both Maggie and Mrs. O’Brian’s help, the dress needed to be taken in at the waist with a needle and thread, but let out some at the bust. For the first time in her life, Misty’s long auburn hair had been trimmed properly, and by someone other than her father, who’d never spent more than five minutes at the task.

  That afternoon, leaning in close enough to feel her breath on her face, Maggie had instructed Misty on how to apply makeup to her eyes, cheeks, and lips—another punishable Grounder no-no. Misty, watching Maggie and her mother’s ‘mother-daughter’ interactions, couldn’t help but compare them to her own relationship with her mother. A mother, she reminded herself, who had disowned her in favor of a tyrant. But Mrs. O’Brian, an easy person to be around, was friendly; her relationship with Maggie seemed almost sisterly. Accepting of Maggie’s views and opinions, she laughed easily at her lack of understanding things important to a younger generation. They spoke openly of Maggie’s sexuality, and of other personal things that brought color to Misty’s cheeks. As if instinctively knowing not to pry, Maggie’s mother hadn’t asked her about her own upbringing, or her purported life among the Drummond Clan. Perhaps she suspected something of the truth, or perhaps she believed that Adaira had run away from home, but she’d accepted, without giving it a second thought, that she too would be part of their little conspiracy. Clearly, she loved and trusted her daughter that much. They primped and fussed over Misty for three arduous hours. Once done, they marched her in front of a full-length mirror, Maggie holding her left arm and Mrs. O’Brian holding her right. Both beamed at her. Misty simply stared back in the mirror at the beautiful young woman dressed in a lovely pink gown.

  “Oh no,” Maggie scolded. “Don’t even think about crying.”

  Misty blinked away tears that weren’t from sadness but gratitude. She honestly didn’t recognize the person in the mirror. She had never felt like one of those stooped, sallow-skinned Grounders merely surviving deep below the Earth’s surface. She certainly didn’t look like one of them anymore.

  And now, as she blushed under Conn’s appreciative gaze, she never wanted to go back to looking like that ever again.

  She stood silent, waiting for him to say something, until a voice interrupted them. “Is that my tall, dark, and handsome fiancé?”

  Misty was taken aback by the sudden approach of a strikingly beautiful woman. Wearing a fitted, ivory-colored gown, the woman didn’t seem to walk so much as glide across the floor. Her hair flowed down her exposed back like black ink. And those eyelashes! When she blinked they fluttered like two perfect winged butterflies, and within them were two orbs of dark intensity. Everything about this woman seemed measured and calculated. Immediately, Misty knew exactly who she was: Lili Folais. And she hated the woman, without knowing or caring why.

  Toag leaned in close and whispered, “That’s Conn’s future wife there, in case you hadn’t figured that out.”

  Emma’s voice rose above the hum of the crowd. “From Clan Brataich, please welcome Cloudwalker Conn Brataich, along with his betrothed, Ms. Lili Folais, of Clan Folais.”

  Misty tore her eyes away from Conn and Lili, feigning indifference. She retook Toag’s hand in hers, offering him her warmest, and hopefully her most alluring smile, but the smile was gone quickly. This was a mistake. A terrible mistake! It was clear that everyone knew everyone here. The mere notion that she could get away with this deception was ludicrous. She pulled Toag close, her eyes boring into his.

  In a hushed and desperate voice, she said, “This isn’t going to work. There is a real Adaira Drummond.”

  Toag didn’t seem to share her concern. “You haven’t met any of the Drummonds—and neither have most of the Skylanders in Manhattan. They’re weird and unsociable, like hermits, the whole lot of them. Sure, there’s a real Adaira Drummond, but no one’s ever even seen her. Just stick to the plan, it’ll be fine.”

  Together they stepped up to Emma’s side. Emma put a hand affectionately on Toag’s shoulder, but when her eyes leveled onto Misty next to him, she looked perplexed.

  “This is Adaira Drummond, Emma,” said Toag casually. “This is her first Gala.”

  Emma stared at Misty for a long moment and then smiled. “And here I thought I kent every man, woman, and child atop the cloudbank. Welcome, my dear. I’m Emma; Toag is my brother’s best friend. So, will your parents also be attending this year?”

  Without thinking, Misty shot a questioning look over to Toag, and instantly regretted doing so. Why would he know more about my supposed family than I do? Almost imperceptibly, Toag shook his head. Misty replied, “No, they’re . . . not much for participating in this sort of thing these days.”
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  Starting to feel desperate, Misty glanced around at the crowd accumulating behind them. She scanned their faces, looking for Maggie and her date—a Skylander girl Misty had not yet met. She saw no sign of them.

  “Well, you two have a splendid night. Now let me introduce you,” Emma said, taking Misty’s hand in hers. She signaled the distant bandleader and another rousing interval of music filled the ballroom.

  “From Clan Brataich, please welcome Cloudwalker Toag Munna, and Ms. Adaira Drummond, of Clan Drummond.”

  Toag and Misty stepped forward. He raised their clasped hands in the air in appreciation of the applause. All eyes were on them, no—on her, the never before seen hermit Drummond daughter. This is a sorry mistake, Misty thought, and they are going to find out. She pictured herself being chased outside by an angry mob of Skylanders, where the only escape would be to jump into the void left by the Drake when it collapsed.

  Toag and Misty moved over to where the side tables were positioned, in front of the outer wall’s surrounding row of windows. Other guests mingled there, picking at finger-food offerings. A couple who both looked to be in their fifties moved toward them; the woman wore a satin dress that shimmered as she walked. The man, no doubt her husband, was wearing his dress kilt but also a drape of plaid fabric angled down across his torso, where several rows of glistening gold medals were displayed.

  “General Craig Howkland and his wife Grafton Howkland,” Toag said in a voice just above a whisper. “He pretty much leads all of the combined Midtown forces of our military.”

  “And that cheerless man over there?” Misty asked, gesturing toward another man who was easily seventy-five with a shock of silver-white hair. She recognized the long cape and the dark colors worn by the Dorcha Poileas. He too wore a good number of medals, although his were shiny silver, clasped to the left breast of his formal jacket.

  “Commander Gains Bask. He’s in charge of the Poileas, at least on an interim basis. His boss, Colonel Milligan, died last year.”

  “He doesn’t look too pleased to be here,” Misty commented, noticing Bask’s dour expression.

  “I don’t know much about him. He transferred here from Jersey City. Rumor has it, he may have mixed loyalties. Probably nothing but idle gossip; the Poileas aren’t exactly well-liked.”

  Misty heard distant bells start to ring. Soon multiple ringing sounds were coming from multiple buildings.

  “Now? Really?” said Toag with a groan. “That’ll be the Bell Tower.” He noted Misty’s confusion, and added, “Rampage alarm. It’s a warning for an imminent God’s Rampage. It’s for everyone to hurry and get under cover.”

  Sure enough, dark and angry-looking clouds had swept in outside, high above the Skylander realm. As she was about to ask Toag more about God’s Rampage, the entire sky suddenly blazed bright. Misty flinched and grabbed Toag’s arm. As far as the eye could see, great bolts of electricity were stabbing and branching out, both upward and downward. Deafening thunderclaps assaulted Misty’s ears, to the point where she was tempted to crawl beneath the nearest table. But she was held spellbound with the atmospheric event. It was as if a war had commenced between two godlike creatures, fighting each other from above and below, each delivering one momentous counterstrike after another. The sky was on fire. Misty was certain this had to be the end of the world; the end of everything.

  It lasted four or five minutes before ceasing almost as quickly as it had begun. Misty continued to stare out the window, slowly realizing she was still clinging desperately to Toag’s left arm. Others who’d stood at the windows near them had casually refocused their attention back on the Gala festivities inside. She heard Emma’s voice; another Cloudwalker and his date were being introduced.

  “Storm View,” Toag said at her side. “Room’s appropriately named, wouldn’t you say?”

  Misty nodded. “How often does this happen?”

  “Every few months in the summer? In the winter, once or twice a month,” Toag said.

  “Being out there, during a God’s Rampage . . . is it dangerous?”

  “Aye! You don’t want to be out there when that happens. You head for the closest building and pray you dinnae get struck.”

  Misty nodded, finding it hard to pull her attention away from the window, even minutes after the last lightening bolt had flared so brightly and the warning bell had stopped ringing.

  “Come on, let’s dance,” Toag said, leading her toward the dance floor farther inside the room.

  Misty pulled back on his arm. “I don’t know how,” she said nervously. “Dancing is not permitted for a Grounder girl. Do you know anything at all about the Purgeforth Scriptures?”

  “You’ll be fine,” said Toag dismissively. “I’ll walk you through it.”

  He steered her gently toward the dance floor, where no less than ten couples were now slow-dancing to a pretty song sung by a young man on the stage.

  “It’s called, ‘The Bonnie Banks o’ Loch Lomond’,” Toag said. He placed a hand over his heart. “It would be a crime not to dance to such a stirring melody, aye?”

  Misty spotted Conn and Lili dancing, their bodies close, with her waif-thin arms raised and clasped behind his neck. They were looking deeply into each other’s eyes as they rocked back and forth to the beat of the music. The soloist sang along to the old, hauntingly beautiful melody:” But me and my true love will never meet again, On the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond.”

  Misty felt a sudden physical pain in her chest she couldn’t describe as Toag maneuvered them farther onto the dance floor. He took her hands in his, placed them around his neck, and drew her in close. They moved and swayed to the music as the others did around them. So this is dancing! Misty smiled up at him. Dancing is nice.

  Toag, staring at her, scrutinized her expression. “They will be married soon,” he said, glancing at Conn and Lili. “Misty, you are so beautiful . . . beyond words. It would be a shame to squander your love on a lad so unavailable.”

  She wanted to assure Toag he had it all wrong. That he was misreading the situation—misreading her. But with one look into his wounded hazel eyes, she knew any such justification would be a wasted effort. She opted for silence instead, and placed her cheek upon his chest, letting the bittersweet music console her heavy heart.

  Chapter 41

  This was not the Lili that Conn had come to know, though admittedly, he really didn’t know her all that well. Gone was the spoiled daddy’s girl who, on the few occasions they’d been together, had seemed resentful of their predestined espousal. Now, peering up at him, her lips turned up into a demure, coy expression, she fluttered her eyelashes at him then glanced over at Toag and Misty slow dancing.

  “So, my handsome Brataich Cloudwalker,” she said in a silky voice. “You have caught the eyes of more than a few pretty lassies this fine night. And to think, we will be married in what, a month? I do hope you are ready and still find me a suitable mate?”

  “Lili, so much has happened. Talk of such things—”

  In a flash, her expression turned menacing. “Our parents have worked tirelessly for years to bring this union about. It’s bigger than us. Or do you not care about anything but yourself?”

  “Of course I care, Lili. Can we talk about this some other time?” Like never, he thought.

  “It’s for your own good,” she added not attempting to hide the not so subtle threat. Her expression held none of the sweet coyness from just seconds before; her eyes filled with anger, and her mouth slipped into a sneer as she momentarily shifted back into the real Lili he knew. But just as quickly, her anger disappeared as she changed the subject. “So you know that Drummond girl over there?”

  Conn shrugged, treading carefully. “Not really.”

  “Toag seems entranced. Isn’t she a little, I don’t know, awkward? Unrefined? Like the poor girl’s been locked away in the Drummond’s basement all these years?”

  Conn continued to show indifference to her questioning. Although, the
re was some truth to what Lili said: Misty had indeed lived her entire life in a Grounder basement of sorts. “She’s a nice kid. Not a pretentious bone in her body.” Conn regretted the words just as soon as he said them, noting the true jealousy that sprung in Lili’s cold, almond-shaped eyes.

  “Oh, I see,” she said, her voice soft. “So that’s what I am to you? Pretentious? Good to know what my future husband thinks of me.”

  “I didnae mean it like that, Lili. It wasn’t a comparison. You’re both verra different; nothing alike.”

  “Fine! Maybe you should be dancing with her?”

  She pulled him close, and allowed her hips to subtly grind and rub against his groin in cadence to the music. Then she took both his hands and pushed him away. Now leading, she raised his arm and twirled beneath it, then pulled in close to him again. The quick dance movement hurt Conn’s back, but he covered the grimace with a smile. He realized she had maneuvered them over to Toag and Misty.

  “Come on, let’s switch things up a little, my love,” Lili said, loud enough to be heard above the music. She let go of Conn and effortlessly spun away, only to position herself, somehow, between Toag and Misty. Forced apart, Lili laughed. She took hold of Toag’s still-raised hand, and placed his other hand onto the small of her back. As they spun away, Toag shot Misty an apologetic expression.

  Conn, now standing alone and feeling stupid, raised his brows at Misty, who looked both disconcerted and embarrassed at being left alone on the dance floor. She nodded back and took a hesitant step forward. He pulled her in close, his hand firmly on her back, as she took his raised hand in her own.

  He said, “Is this too weird for you? You want to stop—”

  “No! I mean, please, it’s fine,” she responded a bit too abruptly. She smiled, not looking up at him, as color rose in her cheeks. “I don’t think I could bear to be abandoned twice on the dance floor in so short a time.”