Beneath Ceaseless Skies #87 Read online

  Greta hesitated a moment, but then she asked, “Your wife was the storyteller, wasn’t she? The one who came for the spring celebration?”

  “Yes,” Jack said quietly.

  “And that’s how you know Auberon and the other bears. It was one of her stories you told me in the woods, that’s why it sounded so familiar.”

  Jack nodded. “She never could bring herself to believe you’d hurt him on purpose.”

  Greta blinked back a sudden brightness in her eyes and said, “You’re welcome to stay here, of course, or to come with us, but Auberon needs to get back, deal with—what was her name? Bernadette.” Jack put the clothes down on the bed. “We can stay another day or two, maybe, but he’s already been gone so long....”

  Jack nodded. “I need some time to think.”

  “Of course.”

  “Maybe a few hours. You’ll know by tonight, though, and you can tell Auberon he doesn’t need to wait any longer than tomorrow morning, at least not on my account.”

  “You’re sure?”

  He nodded, running fingertips lightly across familiar fabrics.

  “Thank you. I’ll go tell him and give you some privacy. You have the run of the castle, of course, and the grounds outside.”

  Jack nodded again. “Thank you.” He waited until the door clicked shut behind her and then started to change, dumping his traveling clothes piece by piece in a pile on the cold stone floor.

  * * *

  Jack sat on a tree stump on the hill where he last remembered seeing Nancy.He’d thought she might be here, that he’dfind her gravestone at least, but he’d looked everywhere it might be. He’d even tried to talk to the castle again, but it was... sleeping. So he sat, staring at the sky and seeing her eyes, wondering how the hole in his heart wasn’t killing him.

  “She’s not here,” said a bear’s voice, and Jack turned, startled, to see Auberon and Greta. It was only the second time he’d ever seen the bear prince in person, and Jack realized with surprise that Auberon was actually smaller than many of the other bears. There was something noble about him, though, and Jack bowed his head; Auberon lowered his own briefly in response, and continued, “Your wife didn’t die here, Jack. She left.”

  “I don’t remember,” Jack whispered, throat and chest suddenly tight.

  Auberon bobbed his head. “Neither do I. But my advisors do; they say she grew sickly and left, to regain her health, but that you were so busy you seemed barely to notice.”

  Jack’s whole body felt suddenly weightless, more like a bird than a man or even a scarecrow, though he hung his head and ran a hand absently through his hair. Of course, he thought. Castles don’t have wives. But if she’s still alive, somewhere....

  Auberon must have let him sit like that for a few seconds, but then he grunted “Master Builder” in such a tone that Jack had to straighten and look at him. “You have saved my life twice over, now, and I cannot offer you sufficient thanks for that.”

  Jack took a shaky breath and stood. “I was glad to help. Am glad to help. And I hope I can visit both of you, someday, but right now I think I need to go pack.”

  “You’re leaving,” Greta said, smiling slightly, and it wasn’t a question.

  Jack nodded. “I need to find Nancy. I owe her an apology, and if she’ll tell me, I’d like to know how that story ends. I’m sure the knight doesn’t make it home, but I think the little girl might, and if she does... well, I’d like to hear it from her.”

  Greta nodded; Auberon sat up on his hind legs and met Jack’s gaze for several seconds. “What do you want done with the castle?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” Jack answered, forcing himself to focus on this, his last responsibility. “It’s its own person, if that makes any sense, and it’s calmer now. Though it would probably be nice for it if someone lived in it, and nicer still if the someone were you. It was built to take care of you, after all, and I always feel like buildings get as sad as anyone else about being abandoned or losing their purposes.”

  Auberon bobbed his head once more, and Greta reached out and shook his hand, and then Jack smiled quickly at both of them before walking past, down the hill, back toward the castle to get ready for his journey. He was ready—more than ready—to go home.

  Copyright © 2012 Emily Gilman

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  Up until third grade, Emily Gilman wanted to be a paleontologist. During a reflective period that year, she decided that she liked being able to spell “paleontologist” more than she liked the idea of actually being one, and she decided to be a writer instead. Since then she has attended the Alpha SF/F/H Workshop for Young Writers (twice), her story “Stay With Me” has received an honorable mention in the 2008 Dell Award, and she’s had stories published in Fantasy Magazine and Strange Horizons. Visit her online at emilygilman.dreamwidth.org.

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  COVER ART

  “Tower of Babel,” by Zack Fowler

  Zack Fowler is an environment artist who has worked for computer gaming studios as a Lead Environment Artist and a Level Designer. His main focus is in 3D environment art, but he also works on environment concept art, high-poly 3D modeling, texturing, materials lighting, and event scripting. See more of his work at http://www.zackfowler.com/.

  Beneath Ceaseless Skies

  ISSN: 1946-1046

  Published by Firkin Press,

  a 501(c)3 Non-Profit Literary Organization

  Copyright © 2012 Firkin Press

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