Isle of Gods II: Amara

by H. Lovelyn Bettison

  Then many years after I accompanied Father on the journey my vision started to come true. Twee washed up on the island like a fish. I was sitting on the beach watching the waves when I saw her, a spot of darkness moving toward me in the surf. At first I thought nothing of the sight, assuming it was seaweed or a bit of wood. When I realized that she was indeed a girl and not a piece of driftwood, I waded out to her, approaching her timidly. I’d never been in the presence of a mortal before and didn’t know what to expect. Once I got closer to her I could see that she was a girl with skin as dark as the valley mud. Gashes on her body exposed the pink flesh beneath her skin. She was small and I guessed that she was a mortal child. At the time I had no idea how this child would change the island and everything that had been true up until that day.

  Part Two

  “From even the vast emptiness hope can arise if proceeded by faith.” Book of Gods

  Chapter 6

  I pulled her limp body to dry land and adjusted her spindly arms and legs into a position more suitable for resting than the way they were initially splayed. She looked so serene lying on her back with her legs straight, her feet flopping out slightly and her hands folded on her chest. I could have imagined her dying quietly in her sleep instead of drowning in the rough waters of the sea. I often wondered about death and how it affected the way mortals lived. I could not imagine having anything but eternity ahead of me, even if that eternity was not what I thought it should be. Mortals must live life with an urgency that I could not fathom.

  I straightened her bright pink dress. The wet fabric clung to her. Her body was thin and bony, but her face was surprisingly round. The cheeks seemed to swell as if she were storing food in her mouth for the winter months. I stood for a moment admiring my work. Grains of white sand stuck to her arms and legs and danced across her face, breaking up the darkness of her hair. I considered brushing them off but decided against it because I liked the overall effect.

  I had never seen anyone lie so still in all my life. She didn’t seem to breathe at all and while we can sometimes survive without the breath of life for a mortal such a feat is impossible. A thick smell came from her body that I could only assume was that of decaying flesh. I marveled at how much death looked like sleeping and wondered if mortals transitioned into a visionary state when they died or if they simply faded into darkness.

  It was natural for me to assume she was dead, but as I stood over her admiring her fragile beauty, I notice her chest seeming to rise and fall ever so slightly. Surprised, I knelt down and lowered my face so my eyes were level with her chest and watched carefully. It was in fact moving. I had not imagined it. It was moving up and down with the breath of life. The display of a dead mortal that I had worked so carefully to compose in the sand had now turned into something different. It had turned into an exhibition on the resilience of life. She was alive, but how could this be? Where did she come from?

  I leaped to my feet and ran up the sand to the tree line to start up the path that led to our village. I had no experience with mortals and did not know what to do to help her live. She seemed to be only inches from death and instinctively I knew I had to act fast if there would be any hope of saving her.

  I only got a few feet into the woods before I ran into Father and Herthe. I slammed into them with such force that I fell backward in the dirt.

  “Is something wrong?” Herthe asked, helping me to my feet. Her silver hair parted down the middle and braided in two braids that draped elegantly over her shoulders. She was soft and round but sturdy as we all were.

  “I’ve never seen you move that fast,” Father laughed, creases forming at the corners of his eyes.

  I tried to speak between my swift pants, but the fall had knocked the air out of me.

  “Slow down, child,” Father said. He placed his hand on my shoulder and looked into my eyes.

  “There is something on the beach you need to see,” I finally managed to say.

  “What is it?” asked Herthe.

  “A mortal,” I said.

  “This cannot be,” Herthe said.

  “But it is.” Having regained my bearings I turned and started walking down the hill. “Follow me. I’ll show her to you.” I did not look back, confident that they would come down to the beach with me. That seemed to be the direction they were headed anyway. When we stepped from beneath the canopy of trees into the sun the wide expanse of beach was waiting there for us. Her body lay just as I left it arranged like a great masterpiece in the sand. “There,” I said, pointing to her.

  Father and Herthe went to the child quickly. Their feet kicked up sand as they walked. The fabric of their robes flapped in the ocean wind. Once at the child’s side Herthe knelt down and placed her hand on the girl’s chest. I ran over to get a better look at what was happening. It only took a few seconds before the child inhaled a wheezy mass of air, rolled over on her side, and began to cough.

  Herthe looked up at me and said, “She’ll be all right.” She leaned into the child speaking in her ear. “You are going to be safe now. We will care for you for as long as you need.”

  The child was not conscious. Once her coughs had subsided she breathed heavily as if sleeping, her eyes closed to the world. Father picked her up in his arms, her limbs flopping loosely in the air. “We’ll take her back to the village,” he said. He walked with determination back to the woods.

  I followed, my heart racing. This was it. She was what my vision all those years ago was about. She was dangerous. I knew it. She would change everything. I wondered if I should say something now or if it would be best to wait until later. I decided to wait. To see what happened.

  Chapter 7

  The child lay in Herthe’s hut for two weeks with no change. The others asked about her daily, but Herthe and Father prevented any of us from seeing her, even me.

  “But I found her,” I said. “I rescued her.”

  Herthe continued to stir the large iron pot over the fire, her muscles straining under the heavy resistance of the thick porridge inside. “I know, but that doesn’t matter. You are no one to her. She would not know you if she woke. Eilim and I have decided to have as few people as possible attending her. That way she will be less frightened when she wakes up.”

  “Why is Variel one of those people? She had nothing to do with the girl coming here.” Herthe stopped stirring and looked at me with quizzical gray eyes. “Why does this concern you so much? I thought you were suspicious of her. Did I not hear you telling Stellan that this girl is dangerous? Didn’t you dream that she was a great fish?”

  “That’s why I want to watch her.”

  “You needn’t. She is a child and not dangerous to us.”

  “Maybe that’s what they want you to think,” I said.

  “Who wants me to think?”

  “This could be a trap.”

  Herthe let out a full round laugh. “A trap? Do you think the mortals even have the ability to trap us?”

  “Did they not take Santali?”

  She looked into the distance, the creases deepening on her forehead. “We cannot be sure about what happened to her.”

  “Can’t we? Father has even admitted that she was taken.” The day I crowded into the meeting hut with the others and found out that Santali was gone was the saddest, loneliest day of my life, not only because my friend had gone, but also because I realized that she had been keeping an enormous secret from me. Father had devised so many ways to keep the mortals from finding the island that there was no way any would’ve gotten here without help. I believed Santali led her captors here and then willingly left with them. There was no other way she could’ve been taken. With the storms, the barrier rocks, the door in the dimensions that they must pass through to get here, up until that day despite all their efforts they never found us. Then suddenly one day they did and Santali was all they took. None of us even knew they were here until it was too late.

  The porridge bubbled and popped in the cauldron and Herthe went
back to stirring. “Let us take care of this, Amara. You’ll see the girl when she returns to health.”

  The idea that the child needed to be healthy bs ludicrous, but disagreeing with Herthe and Father was useless. The island had never been a democracy. What they said efore I spoke to her wawas rule. Only the elders got a say otherwise.

  I stood staring at Herthe. Waiting for her to change her mind.

  She looked up at me again. “Why are you still here?”

  “I had a vision.”

  “Enough with the visions, Amara.” She sighed heavily.

  “I need to talk to her.”

  “It can wait. Now go. I’m sure there is something else you should be doing.” She shooed me away with her hand.

  Sulking, I went to my hut.

  I had thought so much about mortals in the past and even envied their lives so full of chaos and adventure, but I was also keenly aware that they seemed to destroy most everything around them. Father often told us about the problems they had in the mortal world. They killed each other over the smallest disagreements and stripped the land they lived on of life. Even reading the book they wrote about us gave clues as to their true natures. The book portrayed us as violent and vengeful, but in reality we were the opposite. The stories it contained were reflections of them, not us.

  I waited behind the bushes watching the comings and goings at Herthe’s hut. The child was almost never alone. Herthe and Father came and went often and when they weren’t there Variel was giving her food. Variel, who was about the same size as the child, entered the hut carrying a steaming bowl of porridge. She said something as she went inside, but I couldn’t hear what. The door flapped closed behind her and after a few moments Father emerged from the hut. His head bowed in determination, he hurried by without noticing me. The child had been in there for weeks now and the urgency I felt about needing to talk to her was coming to a head. After watching the hut for days on end I knew that I would never get the chance to be alone with her. I also knew that Variel, being junior to me, would be the only one who would provide me with the chance to converse with the child. I looked around to see who was watching. There was no one in sight, so I walked over to Herthe’s hut and peered inside.

  The girl lay on a straw mat on the far side of the room. She lay in fetal position with her back turned toward the door, a burgundy blanket draped over her tiny form.

  Variel sat on the floor beside the mattress, the dark wooden bowl of porridge beside her. She turned her head when I pulled the boar skin aside to look into the hut. “You’re not suppose to be in here,” she whispered.

  Ignoring her, I stepped inside quickly making sure the boar skin was completely closed behind me. I didn’t know when Herthe or Father might return. I had to try to talk to the girl as quickly as possible. “I just wanted to see her.”

  Variel looked down at the girl. “Well you’ve seen her.”

  “Has she said anything?”

  Variel shrugged. “I’m hardly ever in here.”

  “You’re in here at least three times a day from what I’ve seen. She hasn’t been awake the whole time you’ve been in here?” The arched windows were all covered with skins blocking out the bright mid-afternoon light. One of the glowing stones we used for light sat on floor near the door giving off a faint blue glow.

  “She eats, so yes she’s been awake.” She motioned toward the bowl of porridge.

  “Has she said anything to you?”

  “Yes,” Variel said. “She’s told me that you better not let Herthe or Father catch you in here.”

  “Where did she come from? What’s her name?” I sat down next to Variel, the steaming bowl of porridge between us.

  “Don’t get too comfortable.”

  “If they see me in here what will happen? Not much, really. They will be angry. It won’t be the first time.”

  Variel looked back toward the door. “They will ban you from voting in council.”

  “Those votes are just for show anyway.” Everyone always voted the same way in our meetings. I used to wonder what would happen if someone disagreed. Once I voted “nay” just as an experiment and Father just said that the nay vote has been noted. Nothing further ever came of it.

  “They might ban me too because I let you in.”

  Variel wanted to please so badly, but she didn’t seem to recognize that what she did never really mattered. The longer I was alive the more I started to feel like we were just here to keep Father and Herthe company. Maybe the elders’ opinions and ideas mattered in the running of things, but the rest of us might as well have been ghosts. We were expected to do as we were told.

  “Why do you care about this girl so much?” Variel asked.

  “I had a vision about her years ago when I went journeying with Father.” Though Father and Herthe didn’t approve of my visions they always interested Variel.

  “Father told me that your visions are nonsense.”

  “That’s interesting, because they always seem to come true.”

  Variel nodded her little round head in quick agreement. She was seeking too. Much like me at that age she wasn’t aware of it yet. One day her mind would open like a spring blossom and she would realize that life could be so much more. “What was your vision then?”

  “You don’t want to hear it. Father doesn’t approve.”

  “Tell me quickly.”

  I cleared my throat and told her about my vision of the fish.

  She inched toward me listening closely to every word.

  “This girl will bring great change to us,” I said.

  “What kind of change?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” I placed a hand on her shoulder and looked into her soft brown eyes. “Won’t you help me?”

  “A good change or a bad change?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What good is your vision then?”

  Sometimes I asked myself the same question. What good was getting visions if I was still powerless to change anything? “Better than any Father has ever shared with us.”

  “He keeps the best visions secret.”

  “Does he? Because I’m starting to doubt he really has visions at all.”

  “Don’t say that.” She shook her head.

  “He is not here to hear me.”

  “I could report you.”

  “But you would not because you like hearing about my visions.”

  “They help me see possibilities for the future. They give me a reason to think that my life might one day get better.”

  “That’s Father’s biggest mistake. He doesn’t understand that we all need hope in order to go on living.”

  “We do.” Variel nodded. “Her name is Twee.”

  The girl rolled over onto her back. I looked down at her sleeping face, her mouth slightly open, her breathing ragged, her eyes rolling back and forth beneath her closed eyelids. “Where did she come from?”

  “Her people were moving, traveling from one great piece of land to another when a storm sank their vessel.”

  “Were there more survivors?” I asked.

  “She has no way of knowing. Why do you ask?”

  “Might they be looking for her? If they do and they find her what might happen next? It could be the end for us all.”

  “We cannot have an end,” she said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Variel’s confidence was endearing. She hadn’t thought about any of this very deeply. “Why does Father want to keep the girl hidden?”

  “He doesn’t. Father said that he would discuss the girl at the next council meeting.”

  The girl moaned and we both stopped talking to look at her. “Twee?” I said, leaning forward a bit putting my mouth closer to her ear when I spoke.

  “You’ll wake her.” Variel held a finger to her mouth to hush me.

  “That’s the point. I can’t find out much from her while she is sleeping.” She no longer
smelled of rotting flesh like she had when I’d originally found her on the beach. Instead she smelled of salt water and freshly cut plants. “Twee, I need to ask you something.”

  Her eyelids fluttered open. The whites of her eyes were such a contrast to her skin. This was the first time I’d been in the presence of a mortal who was awake and despite her ill health I could see a light behind her eyes that I didn’t recall ever seeing from anyone on the island. It was as if her eyes shone with possibilities.

  I smiled, unable to contain the joy at finally seeing her awake. “You are with us.”

  She nodded and blinked slowly.

  “I have your porridge,” Variel said. She picked up the bowl. “Do you want to sit up and eat?”

  The girl eased herself up.

  “Twee?”

  She looked at me with obvious confusion.

  “This is Amara,” Variel said. “She wanted to meet you.”

  “Hello,” Twee said. Her voice was high and melodic as a songbird. “I’m Twee.”

  “Nice to meet you, Twee. How do you feel?”

  Twee looked at Variel who nodded as if giving her permission to speak freely.

  “Better than I did before, but still not so good.”

  “You’ve most likely told other people about this, but I’m wondering if you can tell me where you came from?” I asked.

  “Across the sea.” Twee sat the bowl of porridge in her lap and began to eat. “My father got work so we were moving.”

  “We who?” I asked.

  Twee put a spoonful of porridge in her mouth. “My mother, father, little brother, and me.”

  “You were on a ship?” I asked.

  Twee nodded.

  “Were there many people on the ship?”

  “Yes, very many.”

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know.” She thought for a moment. “I think we hit something and the boat sank.”