Silverworld

by Diana Abu-Jaber

  She leaned back in, turning, looking for a way to get downstairs and out of the crumbling building. Every now and then a vibrating moan and shudder ran through the walls, as if the entire thing was about to collapse on itself. One door led to an empty elevator shaft that descended into piles of trash and broken glass twenty feet down. The staircase stopped after three steps, torn away, dangling metal into the rooms below. But the floors of lower rooms, Sami saw now, leaning over the elevator opening, were blasted out all the way to the ground. The building was an empty shell, barely propped up by a few rusted beams and bolts. She needed to get out of there, she thought, and right away.

  She hurried back to the window, and was relieved to see a few men still standing in the street, talking, one of them making notes on a clipboard. She hoisted herself into the wide stone shelf that had once held a glass pane and drew breath deep into her lungs. Cupping the sides of her mouth, she screamed as loud as she was humanly able: “HELP ME.”

  In the moment of the scream, everything seemed to slow down and magnify: she saw things close up—the silver buttons on the uniforms of the officers, the blade of a toy helicopter trapped in the detritus, the streak of white in a man’s black hair. Sami saw the black-haired man shield his eyes and squint up in the direction of her scream. He looked directly at her. And then a thought like a distant whisper reached her through the whirl of noise. Samara.

  Startled, she froze in place. She seemed to hear her own pulse in her head over all the other noises. Sami and the black-haired stranger stared at each other. Gradually, she noticed there was something vaguely familiar about his face. His hair grew long, then short, and his form changed from male to female and back to male again.

  “Do I know you?” she whispered.

  I need to talk with you. The thought came to her as if from very far away—farther than the street below—strained and summoned with great difficulty. I am waiting.

  Who are you? She tried to send her thought back to that distant point. But some force like an onrush of wind swept her back into the room. She hit the floor and felt the impact from her tailbone to the top of her cranium.

  Then Sami felt something else, much deeper—another muffled groan, terrible and low, like a sound of dying. It came from all around, from the floor and the walls and what was left of the ceiling above her. The building seemed to shiver, then tremble, and dust and bits of cement and glass started to rain down, mixed up with brilliant sunlight and crazily blue sky. A shard of mirror fell toward her, tumbling slowly, lazily, reflecting the entire broken room, then reflecting Sami herself, stunned. And she knew, even before she started sliding, falling head over heels, that the entire building was going down.

  A sparkling trail of light cut through the dust. She followed it and felt herself rolling forward, the pressure of a hand on her arm pulling her up out of layers of debris. Her eyelids fluttered, barely opening, and she saw, hazily, shadows of figures. The voice murmured again behind her, and with one big push, she surged forward onto her hands and knees. She started coughing, then her eyes opened fully and she saw the Flickers pull back, startled.

  “What’s happened to her?” Natala demanded. “What have you done?”

  Behind the Flicker, Sami saw a flurry of wings fling open into the shape of a woman. Bat stepped forward, swiping the hair off her forehead with the back of her wrist. A sheen of sweat glowed on her face and her blue tunic was rumpled. “Reach into the time-world is what I have done. Where we nearly lost her.”

  Dorsom held Sami’s arm. “I sensed it as well.” His voice dwindled and she could see he was examining her face and deliberately not saying…something. “I felt something throwing you so far away. I kept trying to pull you out, but you were gone far too far.”

  Sami coughed and hacked. It felt like her mouth and lungs were full of smoke, like she was covered in it, but after a few moments of swatting at herself she realized there was nothing there. She struggled to sit up, then touched her face and hair gingerly. “What’s happened? Have I been here all this time? I don’t get this—I know I wasn’t dreaming. I was really and truly there—I know I was!”

  “Certainly, yes,” Bat murmured. “You were there. I couldn’t see what place it was that was holding you, but I felt it. Only your self-physical remained here—which is the least part of any being.”

  Natala gestured toward the horizon: a glowing purple-rose sliver of sun was lighting up the trees. “We kept vigil. So worried for you.”

  Sami hugged her knees, gazing into the distance. “It—it was amazing.” She shook her head slowly. “I was in a bombed building—in Lebanon. The Actual Lebanon! And there was someone there—with me.”

  Who was it? Dorsom crouched closer to her side.

  She frowned. “It was hard to see. He was outside—on the street just under me. I shouted and shouted for him, but he didn’t hear me. Then I really screamed and I think he saw me—or maybe he did. But then…then—” She slid her hand over her mouth. She looked up at them. “It wasn’t really a man. It…seemed like a woman—someone a lot like my grandmother. Only it wasn’t my grandmother either.” She shook her head. “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but things just kept—shifting around.”

  Dorsom and Natala both leaned toward her with questions: Did you speak? What did she say? How did you get there? Was she the one who brought you there?

  “I can’t explain it—not at all. I only know she sent me a thought. She said she needed to talk to me. It was all so much like a dream,” Sami admitted, a bit miserably. She rubbed her forehead. “And there’s more than that—because it felt like there was something there—in that room—that I was supposed to see.” She shrugged and shook her head. “I have no idea what.”

  The Flickers exchanged glances. Natala nodded at Dorsom. He frowned in thought, then stood and put his hands on his hips. “Sami? There is something, a possibility, we might want to…consider. Remember I told you about Reflection? The energy that can pass between an Actual and their Flicker? When a Flicker steps into a mirror, to help their Actual to see better?”

  Sami nodded. “I think so. You said maybe you’d show me someday? What it was like, I mean….”

  Dorsom lowered his gaze. “Okay, so this isn’t exactly the most optimal of circumstances. I mean, of course, the best thing would be for your own Flicker to do this for you. But whoever it might be, that Flicker isn’t here. So, if you want, we could try it now. You and I.”

  Sami frowned, worried by this sudden offer. “Why? What are you thinking that I am going to see?”

  “In Dreamtime, you were altered—a bit,” Natala said, touching Sami’s hair. “It’s rather…striking.”

  Sami looked at Bat: she sensed that the Shadow would tell her the truth. But the bat’s lustrous eyes gave little away. “Samara—the reality is that none knows quite what this means. But if the Flicker helps Reflect you, you might be able to see something more—to better grasp the meaning of this…change.”

  With a quiet sense of apprehension, Sami agreed to try this process of Reflection. She, Dorsom, Natala, and the Shadow bat walked down the soft slope to the water they called the gazing pool. Hundreds of colors danced across its surface, reflecting the gemstones lining its edges. Sami couldn’t really take it in, she was too busy worrying about whatever this “change” was that they’d mentioned.

  While she and the others waited on land, Dorsom waded into the water. Don’t worry—I will be with you, just beneath this surface. He crouched, then sank back into the water so it covered his face and body in a silver sheet.

  “I can’t see him,” Sami said nervously. “He isn’t going to stay under there like that, is he?”

  Natala studied the sparkling pool. “Our water is full of light and air, Sami. We can stay beneath the surface for hours without needing to come back up.”

  Bat put her hands on her hips and arched her back, luxuria
ting in the balmy air. “Gazing pools are especially lovely—they’re built for napping. It’s the best kind of sleep you can imagine, being rocked by warm, soft currents.”

  “Here,” Natala said. “It works best if you come right down to the edge. Lean out until you see your reflection.”

  Tentatively, Sami leaned out, watching her watery reflection begin to gradually focus.

  Then she stood straight up and with a shriek she clapped both hands over her face.

  Sami had diamond eyes.

  Her round, dark brown eyes had turned into rings of clear brilliance. Even her pupils looked like glinting black gems. And her head seemed to be ringed by a thick great mist, like a halo of smoke. “What—what is this?” she gasped, her voice wobbling wildly. “What’s happened to me?” Sami stumbled away from the pool, holding her face and blinking between her fingers.

  “Now, do not panic.” Natala took her arm. “Fine-fine ’tis going to be.”

  “But my eyes!” She brushed away tears. “And what’s all that smoke around my head? Will it change back? I couldn’t ever go back home looking like this—my mom would freak!” Sami clutched her mouth. “I can’t go to school with glowing eyeballs! What on earth is this?”

  Dorsom climbed out of the water, dripping. “It’s Silverworld, Sami.” He bent slightly to look into her eyes. “Our physics are different from those of the Actuals. The haze you see here…” He gestured around her brow. “This is the Shadow mark that Lamida mentioned.”

  Sami nodded, remembering. “The sign that they put on me—to help them identify their prey,” she said grimly. She tipped her head, trying to get another glimpse of the smoke.

  “But the crystalline eyes—this is new to me,” Natala said. “Whether sciences or magics, I don’t recognize it.”

  Turning back toward the pool, Sami squinted and widened her eyes—her reflection wasn’t as clear now that Dorsom had gotten out of the water. It rippled and bounced light—now her diamond eyes were only swirls and fragments. Sami folded her arms grimly. It was starting to seem like, when literally everything in the world was unbelievable, it was almost easier to believe anything. Then she noticed Bat standing quietly behind the others, staring at the grass as if she were fascinated by something. “Bat,” Sami said. “Do you know? What is this? What does it mean when your eyes turn into diamonds?”

  Bat kept her face turned away and she spoke as if she were talking to the slim, bending palms. “I remember their songs,” she said. “No one should sing so beautifully. It’s painful—that much beauty. Even for a bat.”

  Dorsom studied the Shadow bat. “She’s recalling. Remembering something important. Talk to us, Bat. If you care about Sami, tell us what we’re seeing.”

  The woman pushed back her mass of silver-blue hair and glanced at Sami, then at each of the Flickers. “The Ifrit of the Mediterranean Sea were known for their gemstone eyes. ’Twas true. I saw them myself—there were as many Ifrit upon the waves as there are blinkflies in the SilverNight.”

  “You believe you saw the Ifrit?” Natala breathed.

  “Believe and did,” said Bat. “Shall I tell you all their names?”

  Natala’s eyes widened. “Extraordinary. But it is true—some Shadows have been alive nearly since the beginning of Silvertime itself. If she is old enough to have seen the Ifrit, then Bat is one of the oldest Shadows alive.” She nodded respectfully toward the Shadow.

  “The Ifrit were hunted-starved to extinction—centuries ago,” Dorsom said. “They haven’t existed since past remembrance.”

  “Some Flickers believe the Ifrit were only legends,” Natala added in a murmur.

  “They were no legend,” Bat insisted. She lifted her chin and looked at Sami from under lowered eyelids. “Your eyes alone are proof.”

  “I don’t understand,” Sami said, but a new feeling, like awareness, rippled down her spine. She touched the outer corners of her eyes.

  “It’s possible….” Natala nodded slowly. “The Shadow food you ate may have allowed some trait of one of your ancestors to show through.”

  “You mean—those delicious little pillows? Like, they let my inner mermaid out?” Sami couldn’t help shaking her head as she said it. It was impossible, and yet…it echoed so many of Teta’s stories. “My grandmother—she always swore we were descended from an Ifrit. It was, like, supposedly thousands of years ago….And Teta also had a kind of magical guide—her name was Ashrafieh. But I—I just can’t imagine any of it is—I mean, nobody ever really believed that stuff.” Again she shook her head in disbelief.

  Natala said, “Indeed, there was a famous Flicker called Ashrafieh, famous for her courage and her ability to Reflect.”

  Dorsom looked into Sami’s face. She saw sparkles dancing on the surface of his own eyes. “Then let’s try again,” he said. “It’s time to look within. Let’s see what the reflections can tell.”

  Sami pressed her lips together, trying to resist another swell of tears. “I’m scared. I don’t want to look at my weird eyes anymore.”

  “I will help,” Dorsom said. “Rebalancing will help you to become still and to quiet down the fear-voice inside you.”

  “You needs must look beyond the surface. Quiet yourself within and without, to see what will be,” Natala added softly.

  Sami looked at each of them in turn. At last her shoulders sank in defeat. “If you say so,” she said a bit hopelessly. “But I don’t get it.”

  “Getting it is not necessary.” Dorsom smiled. His face and hair were already nearly dry. He looked back at the pool, then at Sami, and offered his hand. “Shall we?”

  This time Sami approached the water with more caution. Dorsom held up one hand as he lay back under the surface, then lowered his arm so once again the water closed over him in a silver curtain.

  And again, Natala and Bat stood on either side of Sami as she crouched by the pool. She saw her diamond-eyed reflection and realized with some surprise that the effect was almost pleasing—even if it was startling. She closed her eyes and said to herself, I’m here to listen. I won’t run away.

  She looked at the water but her reflection remained the same. Pushing her hair away from her face, she wondered if she was losing her mind. What did she really think staring at the water was going to tell her? If she were in the Actual World, she’d probably be calling an eye doctor—or a psychologist—instead of squatting by a pool. Overwhelmed by a sense of uselessness, Sami rubbed her eyes, trying to wipe away the tears, but they came too quickly and spilled down her cheeks. She watched them splash into the water in widening circles.

  That was when she realized that something was happening to her reflection. Her breath caught in her throat but she tried to stay calm. She would never learn anything, she reminded herself, if she kept running away. The reflection of her hair began to change. It twisted into spirals of copper and cobalt colors, and her diamond eyes tilted like a fox’s. Sami’s reflected image dissolved and changed into that of a woman.

  Now a diamond-eyed creature blinked back at Sami from the water. She looked lovely and yet quite strange, as if there was something wild and animal-like in her face. She shifted to one side and Sami noticed that the creature had a powerful, curving tail covered in scales: it swished through the water, then evaporated into a sparkle.

  “Mermaid?” Sami breathed.

  Once again, the reflection began to alter—the hair swirled, growing shorter with streaks of midnight blue, the skin turned faintly green, and a new woman’s face gazed up at Sami. She seemed foreign and yet somehow familiar, as if within the eerie, darkly diamond eyes were glints of Sami—or someone close to her. “You’ve arrived at last,” the reflection said. “We’ve been waiting.”

  “You look like the person I saw on the street,” Sami murmured. “In Lebanon. When I was trapped in that crumbling building.”

  The lime-tinted face sai
d, “It appears that you escaped. That’s very good.”

  Teta’s features echoed through the woman’s own—the deep set of her eyes, the high cheekbones and delicate lips. “You look—like my relatives,” Sami whispered.

  A fizzy, burbling energy rippled through the water. “I am of your grandmother—we’ve been joined for a long time, she and I. And you, Samara, are the last of our line. Our last hope for release from the Nixie.”

  Could this be Ashrafieh herself? Sami felt drawn to the water, wanting to ask—but something made her hesitate. She crouched lower, murmuring, “Are you an Ifrit? I thought the Nixie couldn’t hurt someone as powerful as an Ifrit. I mean—I didn’t think anyone could.”

  “All beings, magic or not, have strengths and weakness—as do I, Samara.” Spirals of hair floated across the woman’s face, but now her hypnotic diamond gaze was intent. “I’m not an Ifrit, though one is here with me. At one time, there were so many Ifrit they filled Silverworld—they contained both Flicker and Shadow molecules and their energies were limitless. But they were driven into hiding long ago and now they are dying out. Nixie preys only upon weakened creatures she is sure she can defeat.” She stopped for a moment and seemed to be frowning into a distance beyond Sami. “So many times I have wanted to dissolve, to escape this prison, but I must do what is necessary, not what is pleasant….”

  Her faraway glance reminded Sami of something similar her brother had once said.

  They’d only been living in Coconut Shores a few months when Sami came home a little early from school and caught Tony changing into some kind of uniform. “Hey, what’re you doing home already?” he’d asked as he clipped on a little black bow tie.