Chapter 16 Can Words Fly?
Can Words Fly?
“Please add Everwine to my list of things to never touch again,” I grumbled as the stabbing pains in my head refused to subside. My mouth was dry, my brain slush, and someone had definitely replaced my joints with broken hinges.
Carl-Two appeared at the foot of my bed like a caffeinated nightmare. “You survived! Both the trial and the wine, and your dignity is still intact. Cheer up, buttercup!”
My glare lasted long enough that he slithered away to whatever hole he had come from, and I flopped back in defeat.
By midmorning, we were packed and gathered in the central courtyard of Valor. The sky was a crisp, cloudless blue, the mountains like jagged guardians watching over their lands.
Tarran was already prepared, her pack slung over one shoulder, a cloak clasped at her throat, held together with a silver brooch I’d never seen before.
She looked as steady as ever, unaffected by last night’s chaos.
My cheeks pinkened as I remembered my comments, but she’d luckily not mentioned any of it, her thoughts preoccupied with our next adventure.
“Everything is bruised,” I complained, adjusting the straps on my bag, trying to find the least offensive spot for the rough material to touch.
“You had quite the night. Did you enjoy the Everwine?” Tarran said, arching an eyebrow, and I felt that crimson flush returning.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
The Carls bounced around on either side of me, full of excitement at the thought of leaving. “You know, I don’t really like this kingdom. Too serious for me,” Carl-One mumbled, chewing slowly, as if saving every bite of the food he held in his hand. “But they sure know how to make a mean muffin.”
We’d only been here a few days, but I could already see both Carls thickening up around the waist. Maybe a step away from Valor would be good for them. And as much distance from the muffins as possible.
Kellis met us at the gates. He gave me a nod, just one, but coming from him, that might as well have been a hug.
“Your presence in Valor will be remembered,” he said with finality. “Good luck with the rest of your journey. You are not the first sky girl we’ve seen, but I surely hope you are the last.”
All our mouths dropped open. “Wow,” I finally said, letting my shock flow. “That’s high praise coming from you.”
Kellis almost smiled. Then, he handed me a scroll, sealed in crimson wax. “Directions to the Kingdom of Torment and Mayhem. Your next challenge. Follow the western trail until the trees start whispering. Then, turn left.”
“That’s…vague,” I said.
“It’ll make sense when you get there.”
“Will it though?”
He didn’t answer, instead turning on his perfectly poised heel and walking away. The gates of Valor ground to a close behind him, and we were officially on our own.
“Well…” Carl-Two said, kicking a foot through the dirt before straightening his back. “Let’s go!”
The road wound down the mountain in a series of switchbacks, flanked by wind-worn cliffs and stubborn outcroppings of grass that clung to the stone like moss.
I kept the staff strapped across my back, the Valor key secured in a pouch at my hip.
Hopefully, I never had to fight anyone again, but this was a book, and I was sure every challenge would be harder than the last.
The Carls didn’t seem to have a care in the world as we made our way.
Carl-Two walked backward for most of the morning, singing a tune he claimed to have been making up as he went.
Carl-One offered useless facts about many of the rock formations we passed, suspicious accusations thrown at any that looked out of the norm, citing potential enchantments meant to spy on us.
Tarran walked beside me, mostly in silence. Every now and then, I’d catch her watching me carefully.
“You okay?” I asked during a lull in our journey when she’d been staring at me a particularly long time.
She sighed. “You did well, but the next kingdom isn’t going to test you the same way. I worry for you.”
***
We were nearly a day into our journey when the forest changed, and we took a left.
The trees grew denser, twisting together like they’d been braided by invisible hands. Moss draped from the branches in thick curtains, the air damp and heady. Even the ground felt different. Softer, springier.
The Carls skipped ahead, weaving between mushrooms the size of dinner plates and giggling at things the trees said that we couldn’t hear.
I trudged along beside Tarran, staff resting across my shoulders, my pack feeling heavier by the mile. Maybe it was the air, or the long journey, or maybe it was the growing pit of unease in my gut.
Or maybe it was the question I hadn’t asked yet.
“What’s the deal with this next king?”
Tarran gave me a sideways glance then sighed. “It’s actually two kings but only one kingdom.”
I blinked. “Two kings?”
“Twins, actually. They struggle to agree on anything ever, so instead of ruling together, they decided to split the kingdom into halves. To get the key, you’ll have to get through both of them. King Reddick is obsessed with trickery and chaos. And King Thorne, he’s known as the silent king.”
“Oh no,” I groaned. “Don’t tell me he’s one of those.”
Tarran tilted her head. “Define ‘those.’”
“Dark past. Deep sighs. Walks dramatically in the rain without a hood. Probably wears black velvet robes and stares longingly at nothing for hours.”
She smirked. “You’re…not entirely wrong.”
“What’s his trauma? Terrible parents? Lost the love of his life? Killed someone he didn’t mean to kill?”
“Close,” she said.
“And what about his castle? Is it haunted with the ghosts of his past or something?” I was beginning to have fun with it, imagining all the ways the tortured and broody king could try to make me get his key.
She shrugged. “It’s different every time. His kingdom is one of darkness, and no one’s soul knows their own darkness as much as they do.”
“Right…” Okay then. I assumed, like the warrior king, that I would find out when I got there. At least it didn’t sound like I’d be in a battle until death. Another pressing question burned me.
“How many sky girls made it this far?”
“Not many. I think one, maybe two. But their names…their challenges…” She trailed off, brow furrowing . “It’s like trying to remember a dream. I get pieces, flashes of remembrance, and then…they flit away. Slip through my fingers like water.”
“Something doesn’t want you to remember,” I said quietly.
She met my eyes. “Maybe it doesn’t.”
“Doesn’t that worry you? Scare you?”
She thought for a moment, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “It is not for me to worry or be scared. I am not real, remember?” She looked a little sad as she said it, and I swallowed hard, looking ahead toward the Carls instead of facing her.
The silence stretched as we walked for a few more paces, the sounds of birds fading in and out as they flitted from tree to tree.
“I don’t get it,” I said finally. “Why stay? Why keep helping people like me if you don’t even get to remember how it ends?”
Tarran’s gaze drifted to the canopy above. The light filtered through in strange, alien shapes that contorted with the slightest breeze. “Because something in me still hopes one of you will make it.”
“That’s a lot to put on a stranger.”
“You stopped being a stranger the moment you touched that book.” She hesitated again. “There’s something else.”
I raised a brow, holding my breath.
“I remember how it felt, when I first became the guide. The book is not linear; it can change, modify as the author sees fit. I don’t know what I did before I was chosen, but I remember that moment, like falling between the lines of a story I hadn’t agreed to…
read.” She didn’t quite make sense, confusion lining her brow, but I let her continue.
“Every step since has been like walking through fog. But when I saw you arrive…it felt sharp. Real.”
“Me?”
She nodded. “You…shifted the fog.” She smiled at me, bemused, and I couldn’t help but smile back, even if I didn’t understand.
The silence between us changed then. Heavier, but not uncomfortable.
“I don’t know if I’m ‘the one’ or whatever,” I said. At her raised brow, I flushed, stammering. “The one to pass the tests, I mean. But I’m going to do my best. And…”
It was a crazy idea, but it was one that had been burrowing in my head since I’d first spoken to her in the training yard. “I want to take you with me.”
Something flickered in her expression—quick and sharp, and then it was gone.
“No,” she said softly. “You can’t.”
“Why not?” I asked, blinking quickly. I’d suspected she’d say that, and why not? If I could enter her story, why couldn’t she enter mine?
“I’m not from your world, Liss,” she said. “I was made for this one. I’m a part of it, written in ink of its pages. A construct with breath and thoughts and…” She hesitated, pressing her lips together. “You can’t take a line of dialogue off the page and expect it to fly.”
I stopped walking. “You don’t know that.”
Tarran kept walking for a moment before turning back to me. “Maybe not for sure, but if the book created me, then it created my limits too. It didn’t write me to survive…up there.” She gestured vaguely to the sky.
“I still want to try,” I said.
She looked at me, her expression unreadable, before turning and walking faster, rushing to join the Carls and effectively stopping our conversation.
It was only minutes later that the forest shimmered with hints of light. I could feel it in the weight of the air, the way the trees bobbed and weaved in the breeze, the way the birds went quiet.
The Kingdom was near.