As soon as the sun peeked over the mountains, Jacklo and Risa took to the air to scout north and south for any sign of the city. Shoulders slumped, Si-Si paced in a circle around Mayka. “I failed.”
“You tried,” Mayka said as comfortingly as she could.
“I tried to defy my story. I should’ve known I couldn’t. I’m useless.”
In the south, Jacklo was a spot against the clouds. Risa had already disappeared from view, flying high northward. The birds hadn’t wanted to leave her alone, but Mayka had pointed out that she wasn’t alone. She had a dragon to protect her, albeit a small, insecure one. “You brought us closer to the city,” Mayka pointed out. “That was helpful.”
Si-Si dragged her wings in the dirt and sighed heavily.
Mayka squatted next to her. She thought of all the times she’d comforted an anxious Dersy, and all the times Badger and Nianna and others had comforted her, especially after Father died. Si-Si doesn’t have anyone to comfort her. “Maybe . . . maybe you can be more than your story.” She winced as soon as she said it—as Father had often told her, even flesh-and-blood people were the sum of their stories. Si-Si couldn’t be other than what she was, any more than Father could have changed the fact that he was a stonemason who’d left the valley and climbed a mountain.
Si-Si let out a whimpering pffft sound.
Searching for something to say, Mayka tried changing the subject. “Tell me about the city. I’ve never even been to a town. Or, well, anywhere.”
“It’s big,” Si-Si said. “Lots of people and lots of creatures, living close together, and . . .” She wilted again, her shoulders drooping even lower until her chin rested on her paws. “I’ve never been there either, at least not in a way I remember. Soon after I was carved, I was brought from Skye to the estate in a cart under a cloth so I wouldn’t be damaged. My home was the first place I saw outside my carver’s workroom.”
“Do you know how to find the workroom where you were made?” Maybe they could ask the stonemason who had made Si-Si to help them. He’d done a beautiful job carving the dragon. She was far more detailed than the oxen and horses they’d seen. Exquisite, really.
“No, but he’s not who we need. He wasn’t skilled enough to make me fly when he created me; he won’t be skilled enough now. I need a better stonemason. Like your father.”
If Father were still alive, he could have changed Si-Si the way she wanted. Hollowed out some of the stone in her torso to make her lighter. Reshaped her wings to be more aerodynamic. Added marks that would let her fly.
Risa was the first to return. She glided down and landed beside them. Preening her feathers, she settled onto a rock. “It’s north. Not far.”
Si-Si perked up. “We’re close? I brought us close?” The little dragon climbed onto one of the rocks in the field near Risa and craned her neck, but her head was still much lower than the tops of the cornstalks.
“Where’s Jacklo?” Risa asked.
“He’s not back yet,” Mayka said.
Risa sighed. “Probably got distracted by something shiny.”
Mayka wanted to head north right now—Skye was close enough for Risa to see! But if they continued on without Jacklo, he wouldn’t know where they were. No, they had to wait.
Sitting on the ground between the cornstalks, she waited.
Up on the mountain, she’d never minded when time went by. Waiting was easy. She’d spent days waiting for a flower to bloom. She’d waited for the moon to be full. She’d waited for the wind to shift. She’d waited for winter. She’d waited for spring. And it hadn’t felt like waiting. It was just . . . living. Time flowed on, and you watched the world, inhabited the world, loved the world.
Somehow, though, it felt different here. She felt as if her stone skin were itching. Her feet wanted to move. She felt a powerful pull northward. Is this what it feels like to be impatient?
She was used to being in one place, her home, and not wishing she were somewhere else. She’d always been exactly where she wanted to be. Standing up, she paced, like Si-Si, simply to keep her feet from feeling that odd itch.
Soon I’ll see the city!
She occupied herself with imagining what it would be like: stuffed with both flesh and stone people and creatures, living side by side, in houses as close to one another as trees in a forest. She wondered if being so close together caused them all to like one another or hate one another. She wondered if she’d make new friends. It’s going to be amazing!
“He’ll be back,” Risa said. “He always comes back, usually with ridiculous tales of his adventures.” She settled her wings around her and tucked her head beneath one of them.
But Mayka couldn’t quit pacing.
She spotted Jacklo first: a black dot against a star-filled sky, like a tiny cloud, and then she saw him flapping toward them. He circled once before he landed.
“You would not believe what I saw!” Jacklo cried. He didn’t wait for them to respond. “Giant monsters! Three of them! Large as . . . as . . . that farmhouse. Legs like tree trunks.” He hopped from foot to foot, ruffling his wing feathers around him. “They are incredible!”
“Dangerous?” Risa chirped. She spread her wings, ready to flee.
“Oh no, they’d stopped. Long ago, from the looks of it. Grass is growing over their bodies, and their faces are crumbling into sand. But oh, they must have been so incredible when they were awake! Imagine giants striding across the valley! Mayka, Risa, you have to come see!”
“But the city is north!” Si-Si said.
“And the giants are south!” Jacklo cried. “Mayka, don’t you want to see them? To read them? Such stories they must have had!”
Standing, Mayka looked to the south, but she couldn’t see through the field. All she saw was more corn. Could it be true? Were there fallen giants in the valley? Father had never told any stories about them. If it was true . . . Their bodies would hold untold tales. Secrets and mysteries she could unlock. Dreams she hadn’t yet imagined!
But north was the future.
North was the city that could be the answer to their hopes and dreams. North was where stonemasons created stories, where people like Mayka were born, where they’d see wonders beyond anything she’d imagined: a place full of more people and creatures, both flesh and stone, than she’d ever known.
She stood for a moment, torn between past and future. But then she looked at Si-Si, whose blazing eyes were fixed so hopefully northward, and she thought of their friends waiting for them back home.
“We go north,” Mayka decided.
“Good,” Risa said. “Let’s go.” She took to the air and, without waiting, flew north. At a jog, Mayka followed Risa. Si-Si hopped beside her, and Jacklo flew to catch up.
But Mayka glanced back to the south and wished she knew what stories lay there, buried in the past.
They ran, flew, and hopped through the day and the night. Farther north, the fields of corn and wheat became sheep and cow pastures, which were easier to run across, but also dotted with piles of manure. Mayka stepped in several, washed off in streams, and then ran on.
They saw farmhouses, lit from within by lanterns and candles. And near dawn of the third day, they encountered their first stone wall. Up until now, all the fences had been wood, but this one was made of chunks of mountain granite that sliced across a pasture. Hefty and gray, it lurked as a linear shadow in the weak predawn light.
“Look!” Mayka said. “It’s proof that stonemasons must be near!” She hurried toward the wall, and the little dragon bounded across the field behind her.
“Wait!” Si-Si called. “It might not want you to cross!”
Putting her hands on the wall, Mayka swung her leg up—and then, suddenly, the rocks shifted beneath her. With a cry, she was tossed backwards, landing on her rear in the dirt.
The stones formed a face. Its features were cobbled together from multiple rocks. In the gray predawn light, she was able to see that the wall had mimicked this pattern elsewhere too—every few yards, there was another face.
“This is private property,” the wall said, stones crunching together. “Do not enter!”
“You’re alive!” Jumping to her feet, Mayka dusted herself off. Chirping angrily at the wall, Risa and Jacklo circled above her. “No, no, stop,” she said to the birds. “It’s incredible!” To the wall, she said, “I’m very sorry. We didn’t know you were alive. Could you please tell us where we are? Are we close to the city? How many miles do we need to go?”
Si-Si tittered as if Mayka had just said something ridiculous. “It isn’t going to answer you! It’s just a wall.”
“But it talked!” Mayka said. “It’s awake.”
“Don’t be silly. It’s only interested if you try to cross it. Watch this.” Hopping up to it, she swatted the wall with her tail. She then hopped backwards.
The rocks shifted again before it spoke. “This is private property. Do not enter!”
“Huh,” Risa said. “Weird.”
“Don’t insult it. Just because it doesn’t share its feelings doesn’t mean it doesn’t have them.” Leaning over, Mayka examined the nearest face. A mark had been carved into the stones that made its forehead. It was still too dark for her to read, but she ran her fingertips over it.
The face repeated its warning, “This is private property. Do not enter!”
“Hush. I heard you.”
The mark was so short and simple that she could read it with her fingers. Gouged deep into the stone was a single symbol, the word for “wall” or “guard.” She knew from Father’s reading lessons that it was usually combined with other symbols, to create a creature who excelled a guarding a house. But this . . . there were no other symbols, no story about this wall, no history. It simply was.
How sad, Mayka thought. “Can you say anything else? You must have seen things, must think things, being here. You watch the sky. You see the seasons turn. You must have stories of your days.”
“It’s just a wall,” Si-Si said. “Come on. We can go around it.”
Mayka touched the mark again, firmer, waking the face. “Please, we don’t mean any harm. All we want to do is pass through.”
The rock face shifted to speak again. Pebbles spilled from its lips, forming a beard of rocks. “This is private—”
“I know. But can’t you make an exception? We don’t mean any harm to whoever lives here. We won’t bother them. They won’t even know we’re there. We’ll run straight across.”
“Do not enter.”
“Just climb it,” Jacklo said, landing on the wall. “It can’t—” He squawked as rocks rolled around his feet. “Ack! Help! Help, I’m stuck!” Flapping his wings, he tried to pull away.
“Jacklo!” Risa flew down to her brother. Hovering in the air above him, she tried to yank on his wing with her talons. Mayka joined them, pulling on his body. When that failed, Mayka dug into the rocks—they’d rolled together to pin him to the wall. As she dug, the rocks rolled against her too, trying to trap her fingers with the bird. Knocking them back, she pulled the stones apart, and Jacklo shot up into the air.
Si-Si giggled. “Are you okay? I know I shouldn’t laugh. But . . . the wall . . . you.” Swallowing, she tried to stop giggling and hiccupped instead. “You can’t—hiccup—cross a wall. You have to go around. That’s how walls work—they keep you out.”
Rubbing her hands, Mayka backed away from the wall. She’d never seen anything like this—unthinking stone that reacted. “I think maybe you’re right.” As she walked along the wall without touching it, she kept studying it. It seemed so wrong that a stonemason would bring a wall to life but make it unable to communicate anything more than a warning. It must have other thoughts trapped within its mortar.
Or maybe it didn’t. Maybe it was alive but not aware. Worms were alive but not capable of advanced conversation. You couldn’t reason with a flower.
“Why bring it to life at all if you don’t make it able to be more?” Mayka asked.
“Because the land needed protecting,” Si-Si said. “My keepers had a wall like this around their entire estate. I was just lucky that it had been ordered to keep people out, not in, or it would have been a lot harder to leave after they abandoned me.”
The sadness was back in her voice. Mayka wished there was something she could say or a story she could tell that would make the little dragon feel better. It had to have hurt so much to be forgotten. She patted Si-Si’s back, between her wings. “I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” Si-Si said, shifting away from Mayka. “It’s upsetting, and I don’t want to be upset on my way to change my destiny.” She arched her back and lifted one foot, posing as if she wanted someone to admire her bravery.
Mayka thought about repeating her apology but decided the best choice was to change the subject again. “Risa, how far out of our way will this take us?”
“A few miles. But, Mayka, there are walls as far as I can see. We’ll have to take the roads into the city. And there are people on the roads.”
“Maybe they’ll be friendly.” Mayka didn’t know if everyone here was like the farmers, and they were going to have to risk it at some point—they still had to venture into the city, with all its people, to find their stonemason. “I’m not going to be afraid of the unknown.”
“That’s okay, Mayka,” Jacklo said. “I’ll be afraid for you.”
“I’ve met lots of people,” Si-Si volunteered. “Or at least a few people. Sometimes we’d have visitors at the estate. All of them were very different from one another. One of them liked to eat seeds and spit the shells on the floor, and another incessantly washed his hands . . .” Mayka listened as Si-Si rattled off person after person, more than Mayka had ever imagined meeting. She tried not to feel overwhelmed.
Si-Si continued to talk, and the faces in the wall continued to watch them as they walked alongside it, careful not to touch it, until they came to a road. By now, it was properly dawn, with pale yellow light flooding the valley.
The road was packed dirt, with deep grooves from wagon wheels and indents from hoofprints—Mayka couldn’t tell just from the prints if they’d been made by flesh or stone. She stepped out from behind the wall and into the middle of the road and started to walk.
By midday, she saw it: ahead, in the distance, was the city of Skye.
From here, it looked like a streak of white and gray, gleaming near the horizon. Leading to it, the road rose and fell over hills that were dotted with farms and houses, some clustered together and others tucked in between trees or beside rivers. People and creatures were walking and riding to and from the city—from here, they did look like ants, just as Jacklo had described. It was . . . Mayka tried to think of an adjective large enough to encompass it: magnificent, stupendous, extraordinary.
“Wow!” Si-Si said.
Mayka agreed. That word worked too.
“I never thought I’d have to come here,” Risa said.
“I never thought I’d want to come here,” Mayka said. “But I do!” She began to jog toward it. So close, and so incredible! She was really going to see it, the city from the stories, the birthplace of their father, the legendary Skye!
“Come on!” Si-Si called, breaking into a deerlike lope. “Faster! Our future awaits!”