Read Online Under a Painted Sky by Stacey Lee - Free Book Online

up,” says Andy. “A red one, too.”
    â€œWhat’s that mean?” asks Cay, sitting up.
    â€œNever you mind. It’ll scare ya.”
    â€œOh, come on,” says Cay. “The only things that scare me are hairy caterpillars. The ones that look like someone’s mustache fell off and is crawling away.”
    Peety cranes his neck toward Andy. “You got a story? Please tell us.”
    Andy sits cross-legged. The boys arrange themselves around us.
    â€œAnyone heard of Harp Falls?” Andy sweeps her gaze over each of us. No one has. She pulls her coat more securely around her, then begins.
    â€œA prince was born with everything a man could want, good looks and wealth. Never had to work for much. One morning after a night of whoring, he wakes up lying in a haystack, not even sure how he got there.”
    â€œI hate it when that happens,” says Cay, flapping the brim of his hat up and down.
    West leans back on his hands. “Yeah, but you ain’t no prince.”
    Andy ignores them. “He’s thinking what a sorry sap he is, when he hears music so sweet it makes him weep. A woman’s voice, out of nowhere, says, ‘I’m the harp at the top of the waterfall. Find me, and you shall have everlasting joy.’
    â€œâ€˜I don’t see no waterfall,’ he says. ‘How do I get to you?’
    â€œâ€˜Follow my music,’ she says. ‘The way will not be easy. But listen for my voice, and you shall have me.’
    â€œSo the prince sets off, but before long, a group of men attack—chain him up and throw him in the river. As he starts sinking, he remembers the harp. He hears her sweet voice again, and suddenly, the chains fall away.”
    Cay and Peety scoot in closer, but West’s face is unreadable as firelight dances around it.
    â€œOn he travels. Next thing that happens, black birds swoop on him, pecking his skin and lifting him to the sky with their sharp claws. As they’s about to drop him onto some rocks, again, he remembers to listen for the music.” She pauses and holds her index finger up.
    â€œWhen he hears it, the birds begin to fall away, one by one. Then there it rises: a great waterfall surrounded by golden rock, higher on one side than on the other, like a harp, with water pouring like strings. He lands on top, and the view is wide and handsome.”
    Cay’s brow wrinkles and he glances at his cousin. West, not noticing, folds his legs and puts his elbows on his knees.
    â€œThere, he sees her, a harp clear as glass, like she’s cut from water, and she’s in the arms of a hooded monk. The prince never wanted anything so bad in his life. ‘I’m here for the harp,’ he says. But the monk ignores him.” Andy pauses, letting the ghostly
whoo
of the wind take over for a moment. “So he repeats himself. Still, the monk acts like he don’t hear. Angry now, the prince tries to pull the harp out of the monk’s hands, but that monk won’t let go. They wrestle for it, and finally the prince smashes a rock over the monk’s head.
    â€œHarp falls into the water. The prince is reaching for it when he feels something wet on the side of his head.” Andy touches her temple. “Blood. He looks down at the monk, whose hood falls away . . . ” She leans toward us, hands held out like she’s going to cast a spell.
    â€œAnd?” urges Cay.
    Andy sits back. “And he sees his own face.”
    â€œHe’s the monk?” Cay exclaims. “I didn’t see that com—”
    â€œShh!” West cuts him off.
    With the image of the monk’s staring face in my head, the wind sounds even eerier, raising the hair on my arms.
    Andy goes on. “The prince dives after the harp, but it’s too late. The harp goes a-tumbling down the waterfall, and the prince with it.” Her eyes study us, but only the wind speaks. “Hear that howling?