I need to get some fresh air. Stepping outside the makeshift hospital, I stand in the rays of the bright sun streaming through the swaying palm fronds. The men are scattered up and down the beach, sparring and practicing their fighting techniques. The anger from the attack fuels them and helps them to learn new skills and master ones they already know.
I would like to learn how to defend myself, but my skills would be more useful to help the injured. However, the other day, I found I was useful in carving shells into the tips for spears. The simple act made me feel as though I was assisting with the upcoming battle, and not just as someone who shows up after the battle.
War. Tao said we had to prepare for war. I only know of this term to be used when it was described in the old stories. The war was what ended all civilization before ours. The effects and devastation are all around me—the fallen buildings and collapsed structures that lay strewn in heaps. Most have been overtaken by nature reclaiming itself. But it isn’t hard to see the devastation of the past and results of war.
I walk toward the edge of the water. The tide is low. Ridges from the coral shelves rise above the water. Most are white with hints of deep reds and purples. My curiosity grows as I imagine how the water people live below the surface.
Wooden crates are set up under a tree. Inside, I find the necessary tools to make the spears. The water people find the shells, and the ones who live on land venture into the ruins to find materials to make the file-like blade to use for carving. I lower myself to the sand, choose a shell and blade, and begin carving. The task is simple. But, the carving of the tip has to be precise so that the point is strong enough to penetrate without breaking. I make three and then take a break. Washing my hands in the cool water helps to soothe the strain they’ve been under for two hours.
I stand at the edge of the outlook. The area of jutting rocks and coral is almost twenty feet from the shore. I’m careful as I walk along the rough and uneven ledge. Leaning over the edge, I rinse my hands in the cool water.
I stammer back and fall on my butt when a head breaks the surface of the water in front of me. Banu laughs and splashes water in my direction. Drops of salt water drip down her smooth face. She’s the one who saw the oncoming boat the first time it arrived. Later, she admitted she had risen to the surface to seek me out. I had been on the edge of the sand the first time I saw her. She had said nothing then. It wasn’t until about a week ago the girl had risen to the surface again when I was near the shore. Since then, I have made a point to come see her. Each time we both reveal something of our world to the other. Although I must admit, her world seems more fascinating.
“You won’t ever get use to us, will you?” she asks.
She may be right; they are so foreign to me. Each time I see them, I’m astounded how people can actually live with the fish. “Maybe one day.”
The water girl is about my age with light, golden sun hair and eyes the color of the blue water in which she lives. She told me her name means lady or princess. Her eyes fluttered when she revealed the meaning. I knew then I immediately liked her. She isn’t always serious or scared. She is carefree but also careful. Her parents died of the sickness. When she told me, I thought back to the hundreds of coffins that had washed ashore on my island across the sea, and I wondered which they had been in.
“So, do you think you want to try today?” She wriggles her eyebrows.
It’s been two weeks since the first time she asked me to go in the water. The war is close, and if I don’t take a chance and do it now, I may never get to explore her world.
Still hesitant, I bite my lip. “Okay,” I blurt out.
“Really?” The look of shock on her face is priceless.
“Yeah, really.”
She claps. Water splashes from her hands. “Yay!” Her high voice and laughter is infectious. She points to a flat surface a couple feet away from where I stand. “Go there, and ease yourself in. Or, if you’re more inclined, jump. I promise I’ll be here to catch you.”
“I’m not ready to jump just yet,” I admit.
“That’s okay, next time.” She swims to where she gestured.
I meet her and look down into the crystal clear water. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. I rarely go into the ocean. My brother Apela taught me how to swim when I was small, but unlike most of the islanders, I prefer to stay on land. The stories told by the elders about creatures of the sea are enough to keep me out of the water. Teeth, supposedly from those predators, were passed around the campfire, reminding us of the dangers lurking below the water’s surface.
She holds her arms out. “I’m right here. I promise I won’t let you drown.”
Drown. Ugh. I was hoping to keep that thought along with the sharp-tooth hunters out of my head. I ease down and slide into the water. Banu’s arms come around my waist.
“See, it’s not so bad.”
My heart is beating faster than it ever has. Well, maybe except that time the creature with the slithering legs almost pulled me out of the boat when Keyon and Tao were bringing me here.
Without letting go of me, she maneuvers around to the jutting rocks. She grabs hold of a clear tube. There are several lined up and attached to the rocks. I didn’t notice them before.
“What’s that?” I ask.
She smiles and holds up the simple, coiled contraption. “This is how you’re going to breathe while in the underwater island.”
Intrigued, I take the tube from her.
“Keep your mouth tight over the end of the tube and try to breathe as naturally as you can. Take deep breaths of air in through your mouth, and slowly release them out through your nose.” She nods to the tube. “Try it while we’re near the surface. It may take a bit to get used to.”
I take a deep breath. I cover the tube with my lips and sink just below the surface. Afraid to yet open my eyes, I breathe out through my nose and inhale with my mouth. The air doesn’t come as quickly as when I’m on land, but the oxygen fills my lungs with a long intake of breath. I try a few more times before coming up.
“After a little while, your eyes may become sensitive to the salt in the water. But, there’s not too much I can do about that. Whenever you’re ready, just get my attention and we’ll come back up. “Ready?” Banu questions. Her face is lit with excitement.
I’m as ready as I’m going to be. My nerves sing with anticipation and nervous energy as I nod. “Let’s go.”
Banu takes my hand as she slides below the surface. I inhale deeply and place the tube in my mouth.
We swim by others who live on the underwater island. Banu waves and motions her hands in a series of movements. They respond with another series of motions. I’ll have to ask her about her language when we get back to the surface. There are more people down here than I thought. Only a few ever come to the surface. When we met, Banu told me there used to be a lot more of them. Most of the water people call their underwater island “Nether Tears,” meaning beneath tears.
We swim past fallen and crumbled buildings like above the water. And, like there, these people have made homes out of them, too. The ruins of the old world look more beautiful down here. Bright tropical fish and plants are everywhere I look. We swim in and throughout Banu’s home. The colors are different down here. Their brilliance seems to be made by the sun’s rays glistening off of everything.
Banu never lets go of my hand as we swim. My legs and arms should be tired, but I don’t want to rest. There’s too much to look at.
I watch in curiosity and fascination as the slits on her sides open and close with her breaths. My own breaths are steady until I look over my shoulder from where we started and I can no longer see the shore or the underwater island. Below us there’s darkness and the unknown. I tug on Banu’s hand and point with my other up to the surface. She holds her finger and directs it toward an elevated plateau rising up from the deep. Something large and unmoving rests on its surface. Without knowing my way back, I follow her. We swim. An old b
oat rests on its side. It’s much larger than the ones I’ve seen. Small fish swim in and around the structure.
Banu pulls me through the water toward the boat. My eyes sting, and I long to flush them with cool fresh water. Inside the broken vessel are all kinds of things from the old world. Items I’ve never seen or heard about. Banu’s eyes widen as something large swims past us in the distance. I look over my shoulder and see a creature coming at us with speed I’ve only ever seen the wind excel to. My heart lunges into my throat. I almost drop the tube from my mouth as I let out a diluted scream.
I grab the tube and hold it in my mouth. Uncontrolled breaths of air pump in and out of my lungs in short bursts. I look up. The surface of the water seems like a world away. I tug on Banu’s hand, but she only stares at the creature coming right for us. A smile slides across her face, and her mouth opens in delight as the finned animal approaches. She takes my hand and joins it with the boat. I grasp it for dear life as she leaves me and swims away.
Banu stops swimming and waits for the thing to approach. It’s almost upon her when she turns to me and squeals. Not the reaction I’m expecting. The creature slows as it looms closer to her. Out of pure fascination, I refrain from swimming to the surface or hiding within the boat. Quickly, Banu looks over her shoulder at me again and then returns her attention to the large animal.
It stops in front of her, and she holds her hand out to it. I want to swim to her and save her. But, fearing for my own life, I stay frozen in place.
The creature nudges her hand and releases a high-pitched squeal to match Banu’s. It swims around her in circles. She grabs hold of the fin on its back, and it pulls her through the ocean, only to return her to where she started. Banu strokes the side of the creature. It floats vertically next to her, allowing her to give it affection as if it were a pet.
Banu waves me over. I’m terrified and captivated. I can’t hold back the alluring need to be as free and unafraid as Banu is. I push off and swim to them.
She gestures for me to pet the creature as she is doing. I do. Its flesh is smooth. It tilts its head in my direction and nudges its nose under my palm. Its wide mouth makes it look as though it’s smiling.
Never in my life have I felt so much fear combined with exhilaration and joy. In my midst of pure enlightenment, the tube falls from my mouth. So consumed with the creature, I can’t grab the tube in time as I watch it fill with water and sink to the ocean’s floor.
Banu grabs my hand and then, with her other, she takes hold of the creature’s fin. Faster than I would have thought possible, it flies through the depths. I’m so turned around I don’t know which way it’s heading, back to land or out to sea. The sun becomes brighter as we ascend. The pressure in my chest rises, and my lungs burn for oxygen.
Banu releases her grip on the animal, and it swims in a protective circle around us. In seconds, we break the surface. I gasp for breaths of air.
“Are you all right?” Banu asks.
“I think so,” I say when I catch my breath.
After a few moments, I look around. We’re a little farther down the beach from where we started. Relief floods me. I thought we would have been brought out to sea.
In the distance, much father out than we had been, the creature glides through the waves and heads further out to see. “What was that thing?”
Banu grins sheepishly. “I should have told you, but I wasn’t sure if he’d show, and I didn’t want to scare you.”
Scared doesn’t even begin to cover what I felt. “I’m glad you didn’t.” I’m still shaken, but it was amazing all the same.
“I call him Pōpō.”
“Pōpō?”
“When I first saw him, I think I peed myself. But, I had ventured out where I shouldn’t have been. Somehow he knew that and made sure I made my way back to the underwater island safely.” She shrugs. “Since then, I go out to the wreckage and try to find him. Most of the water people are scared of anything that looks like the beast with the sharp teeth, so I keep Pōpō a secret from them.”
Banu is one of the most fascinating people I have ever met. “Thank you for sharing him with me.”
She smiles. “Let’s get you out of the water. You look like a dried fruit my mom used to make me eat.”
We make our way to the shore. Then, as if my mind is playing tricks on me from lack of oxygen, I see Tao on the beach. He’s leaning against a palm tree, watching something in my direction. When I realize it’s me he’s staring at, my belly flutters with excitement. Even from this distance, I watch the smile grow across his mouth.
My own smile grows, mirroring his, until I see Esther over his shoulder.
“Tao,” she calls. “Dinner is ready.”
His smile falters as he turns toward his fiancée.
5
Forcing Tao from my mind, I swim toward shore. Although I understand the appeal of the water to the Wai, I’m really happy to be on land. In the distance, Keyon is walking away from Devlin. Since my time here, it’s easy to tell the difference in the way the twins carry themselves. He looks frustrated, and I wonder what Devlin said to him.
I near my new hut, which is strategically placed between the new hospital and the shore closest to the Wai. Tao and some of the other villagers fixed it up for me, and I’m grateful to them and their generosity. I crash onto my bed. Tao’s scent lingers on the blankets he gave me. My thoughts turn to the construction of my new hut. They must have cut down a lot of trees to build it. It’s sturdier than my old hut that I shared with Apela and our parents back home. The ceiling in this one is made primarily with wood and melded together with mud. When it rains, I don’t think there will be as many leaks as I was used to, which brings me comfort. This feels more like home to me, and I wonder if it’s because this was made specifically for me and not one I’m to share with my family.
Someone left some amazing large shells on my new dresser, and I think maybe it was one of the Wai I treated for the sickness. Tao filled my empty drawers with new clothes. I imagine who wore them before and what happened to them. The Malalo village and the Wai have been nothing but generous and kind to me. It’s not easy to compare them to the people from my village, who really only paid attention to me when they needed healing.
Maybe it’s the same here and they are only being nice to me because for same reason. Sadness invades my senses, but I try to shake it off. I need a distraction. I smell the flowers I picked in the morning and leave my new hut.
Training continues in the village, and Keyon teaches several people how to throw spears. A shiver runs through me as I think about going to war and seeing people fall to their death. Keyon takes his job seriously and strives to make each person learn the skills they’ll need if another attack should befall us. Us. I’m not sure if I’m happy or upset to refer to myself with these people. It’s not their fault they are fighting a war that started because of me.
A small part of me wants to pick up a spear and learn how to hurl it into the air like the others are, but I know I would be devastated if I hit another person. And, I try not to imagine having to heal another from such a horrible wound. I may not be able to pull that off again.
“Think of it as spearing a fish for your next meal,” Keyon instructs one of the Wai. The Wai have a paler tint to their skin than the ones who prefer to live on land. The idea they are comparing war to hunting their next meal makes me want to vomit, but that is probably the best way Keyon can teach them—by relating to something they already know how to do.
They continue to throw spears at targets several yards away. I sit under the shade of a tree and watch them. My mind turns to Tao, and I wonder where he is at this moment. What is he training others to do? Is he with Esther? Drinking her warm cider drink? Kissing her? I hate myself for allowing my thoughts to go there. It’s none of my business what they do with each other. They are engaged and to be married. I hate the jealousy that lingers in my mind.
Devlin watches Keyon from a balcony that wraps aroun
d his room. His gaze finds me under the tree, and he smiles. His recovery amazes me. His wound is almost completely healed, and he shows no pain at all. It’s almost a miracle to see how it happened so quickly. I can’t believe that the ointment I used can contribute to the rapid healing, but I’m happy for it.
I think about my mother every time I see Devlin. I still haven’t told Tao or anyone what Devlin revealed to me. It feels too personal to share, and I’m not ready to give that to anyone else, although I know it makes no sense. It may feel nice to confide in someone and get things off my chest, but who would I do that with here?
Devlin marches into the training area. I was so lost in my own thoughts I didn’t see him coming down from his balcony. I stand and smile a few feet away, half tempted to go chastise him for not resting.
“Keyon, I think you’re doing a great job with training everyone, and I want you to know that I appreciate all you’ve done for us.” Devlin slaps his son on the back. “Perhaps it’s time you consider taking a wife of your own. I know of one particular girl who shows the strength and courage you do.” He glances at me, and Keyon’s gaze follows.
“What are you trying to say?” Keyon asks.
“Alania’s worthy, and she has proven herself to be compassionate and caring to our people. She’s becoming loved by all of them. It would be a great match, the two of you.” Devlin grins and walks away, heading toward Nasir, who’s practicing archery.
My jaw drops, and I turn to race back toward my hut.
Keyon runs up behind me and grabs my arm. “What’s your problem?” He steps in front of me.
“My problem? Your father feels it necessary to arrange us to be together, and you ask what my problem is? What happened to the ‘we choose who we marry’ confession?” I place my hands on my hips.
“I’m just as shocked by this as you are. Trust me. It was the last thing I expected him to suggest. He’s never pushed such a thing on anyone before.” Keyon stares in the direction Devlin went. His brows furrow, and I see the truth in his face. “He expects me to be someone I’m not. I’m stuck in a situation I’m not happy with, either.”
Nether Tears (Underwater Island Series Book 2) Page 3
