The Pearl Diver

by Jeffrey Quyle

  “Pour a cup for each of us,” Farah prompted him as he awkwardly took a seat on the edge of the divan cushions next to her. Her idle strumming transformed into a whole melody, a warm tune that she played while Silas handled the drinks for each of them.

  “Now, because my hands are busy, I’d like for you to hold my cup up to my lips for me to drink, and then you can take a drink of your own cup,” Farah proposed.

  Silas awkwardly leaned against her as he maneuvered her cup to her face, then watched her lips quiver slightly as they made contact with her cup and sipped the light golden liquid. She took another sip, then lifted her chin to signal the end of her drink, as her music drifted into a livelier tune.

  Silas drank some of his own wine, and found that it was refreshingly light, with a taste that was vaguely like apples.

  “Do you like it?” Farah asked. “It’s nice, isn’t it? I picked out this bottle just for us tonight. We don’t have many bottles from Jois’s vineyard, but this is worth it.”

  She smiled at him in a kindly manner, and Silas felt a warm regard for her.

  She strummed the tune, and as she did, she tilted her head to the side, a signal that she wanted more wine. Silas obliged her with another drink, then drank more of his own wine. By the end of the song he discovered that his cup was empty, as was hers.

  “Well, pour more, or I’ll be thirsty,” Farah strummed a discordant note and gave a cross-eyed expression that caused Silas to chuckle before he poured more of the wine into their cups.

  “I need to heat up the brazier or we’ll never eat supper,” the woman explained at the end of the next song, as she leaned her instrument against the table and got up. She walked steadily over to the box by the balcony door. A moment later, in a less steady manner, Silas followed her.

  He watched as she placed the small brazier on the balcony, then placed chunks of charcoal in it and sparked a small flame, before she started grilling skewers of meat from one of the containers in the large box she had carried up to the apartment. They each sipped wine as Farah cooked, then served two bowls of dinner before pouring a small bottle of water into the brazier to quench the fire.

  The sun was setting, and the room was getting darker.

  “Shall I light a candle?” Farah asked.

  “If you need one,” Silas answered lazily. “I can see fine.”

  “I can too,” Farah agreed. She walked back to the divan and settled in, then motioned for Silas to join her.

  “Now, tell me what happened today,” she abruptly asked.

  He began to tell her. She was a safe ear he could talk to, and with the wine they had each dank, he found that the words came easily. His story came out, telling of the confrontation by the Guild gate, then going back to the first time he met Mata in Amenozume, then floating among episodes randomly, in response to questions that Farah asked as the pair sat together on the divan and Farah strummed his lute soothingly.

  “You two have lived more adventures and more of a life together in these past few months than most married couples live in years,” Farah advised him as they sipped more of the wine. “Surely you can talk to Mata about these incredible adventures and find a way to reconcile.

  “And almost as importantly, you need to reconcile yourself to the truth about yourself, and your abilities to carry out so many amazing actions,” she added.

  “What are you talking about?” Silas was perplexed by the turn of conversation.

  “The gods have directed a great deal of attention to you directly. They’ve made you a champion for some reason,” Fatah explained. “But you are still concerned with the matters of your own life, and you ignore the wishes of the gods.

  “You cannot begin to use these powers correctly until you understand in your heart that everything else is less important. Your home village, your Wind Words abilities, your trader caravan friends – all those things may have to be put aside to let you focus on your mission from the gods,” the counselor instructed.

  “I don’t think I’ve been ignoring the gods,” Silas resisted accepting Farah’s conclusion. “I’ve just stayed busy with other things.

  “They haven’t given me a map or directions,” he added defensively. “And Mata still matters the most.”

  Farah sighed, and strummed a discordant note.

  “So, you think what? That I should forget everything but finding out what Krusima wants? Going to his temple and just waiting until he tells me where to go and what to do?” Silas asked in exasperation. “I won’t do that. I want to try to talk with Mata again first, for one thing, to fix things with her.”

  There was a sudden knock at the door.

  “Come in,” Silas called, puzzled by the thought that anyone would come to see him as darkness fell.

  The door opened, as Silas and Farah were silent, then a set of steps entered the room.

  “Silas? Are you sitting here in the dark with those crazy eyes of yours?” Mata’s voice asked in a low pitch.

  “Can I light a lantern?” she asked, and then she gasped as she stumbled over some object.

  “Mata? What are you doing here?” Silas pressed himself up from his reclining slouch on the divan, surprised by the unexpected guest.

  “I came, to talk,” she hesitantly replied. Silas heard a flint strike steel, and a moment later the room grew brighter as a lantern wick flared aflame.

  “Oh, who’s this? You’re not alone,” Mata saw Farah.

  “I’ll leave now, so that you two can talk,” Farah said. She stood up, her robe clinging to her body, and her lute in her hand. “I can come back tomorrow for the rest of the material,” she said to Silas.

  “It’s very good to see you here, Mata. I hope your conversation is fruitful,” Farah bowed slightly to Mata, then walked around and past her, shutting the door on her way out.

  “Who was that?” Mata asked coldly. Her eyes inspected the room and focused on the empty bottle of wine. “You didn’t waste any time, I see.

  “I’ll leave now so that you two can be alone,” she spoke belligerently.

  “Mata, Farah’s already left; you should stay,” Silas replied, already regretting that the circumstances were conspiring once again to provoke disharmony. It wasn’t fair, and he deserved better, he told himself.

  He was entitled to do something about the situation. His life and his future and his own dreams were just as much at stake as Mata’s, or Faralag’s ridiculous tale about sprites, he told himself.

  He walked around the furniture, then arrived in front of Mata, and swept the lantern out of her hand. As she looked on, startled, he pinched the wick out, darkening the room.

  “What are you doing?” Mata asked angrily.

  “What do you see now?” Silas asked.

  “You know I don’t see what you do in the dark! What kind of game is this? Let me leave,” Mata demanded as she tried to edge around Silas to get to the door.

  “Look at me,” Silas demanded in return. “You don’t see me trying to cheat on you,” he said. “And even if there was plenty of light, you wouldn’t see a cheater, because I haven’t been untrue to you. Farah was sent here as a counselor, and all she was doing was making me be calm and think about things.

  “And it was Kai who was with me in the courtyard,” he reaffirmed.

  “And besides, who else besides you would even kiss someone with purple and yellow eyes?” he asked.

  He saw a ghost of a smile gently turn the corners of her mouth upward.

  “That’s a fair point,” she agreed. “I’d forgotten about that in the darkness.

  “You’re sure this Farah woman was just a counselor?” she asked.

  “Yes. And you’re sure that Tiller was just someone you were practicing swords with, and eating with, and drinking with?” Silas could help himself as his residual jealously prompted his question.

  “If I could see you in the dark I’d slap you right now,” Mata spoke sharply. “Maybe having wine at midday was not the best notion, but it wasn’t the
start of an affair either. We just had a good workout at the armory and had lunch and fellowship afterwards.

  “I’ve never had a lover before, but if it means I’m not supposed to make new friends and enjoy other people, then maybe I’ve had all I need of being your lover,” she spoke earnestly.

  Silas felt his heart skip a beat. The uncertainty of their changing relationship wasn’t all just in his heart, it seemed, and he felt like Mata’s comment had opened a door.

  “I don’t want to prevent you from having friends,” he told her, feeling guilty.

  “I know you don’t. And I wouldn’t want to stop you from having other friends either. We’ve only had each other for so long now, it just feels,” she stopped as she tried to find a proper word.

  “Caged?” Silas suggested.

  “Yes, maybe that is it,” Mata agreed.

  “You’re not caged by me,” he told her earnestly. “You can have other friends. Someday we’ll be back in Amenozume, and your sister will be safe, and all the troubles will be at an end. And if that means you decide you want to go back to a life diving for pearls, and you find a man in Amenozume who you fancy, I won’t stop you or stand in your way.”

  “Because you’ll be on your way back to Avaleen to see your friend Sareen?” Mata took a veiled swipe at Silas.

  “I haven’t thought of her in a long time,” he said slowly. “But now that you mention her,” he left a suggested return to the former beauty of Prima’s caravan go unspoken.

  “Oh, you!” Mata scolded him, and then they kissed.

  “It’s so dark in here I can’t even tell if your eyes are open,” she complained a minute later.

  “They’re not, and yours better not be either,” Silas spoke the words softly against her lips, and they spent the night happily reunited with one another.

  Chapter 18

  Silas returned to training the next day, as Cover spent much of the morning trying to coax the boy’s telekinesis out of him without resorting to any equipment or props. The trainer’s lack of success after a course of various exercises led him to finally place the practice hood on Silas once more, and then practice training during the short window of functionality that Silas had thanks to the hood.

  Cover did the same on the following day, and the day after that, and the day after that.

  Silas felt some frustration, but mostly settled for using the easily-obtained power that the hood unleashed, and then waited impatiently to return to his apartment and further affection with Mata. And in the meantime, he absorbed lessons and theories that Cover taught, giving him insights into ordinary uses and expectations of the telekinetic abilities.

  “This is a great city, the most dynamic and advanced city in all of the continent of Ellan Sheeant; why don’t you two get out of your apartment more to see the sights?” Kajam asked when he saw them one day eating lunch together at a food vendor near the Guild, to be answered with only giggles and smiles.

  “Silas,” Cover spoke up mid-morning after another round of unsuccessful efforts to evoke the energy that Silas held.

  “Yes, teacher?” Silas replied mildly. It seemed earlier than usual to resort to the training hood.

  “The platform is not being built. We need your help – desperately,” Cover began, in a more serious vein that Silas had known him to speak at any previous time.

  “We know the ability to be a Mover is within you. We see it everyday with the simple use of the hood. But you can’t rely on the hood forever, and we need to be able to use you to construct the platform, especially to move the largest parts.

  “I’m going to use another device, an ancient and secret one, that you mustn’t reveal to anyone else,” Cover spoke in a conspiratorial voice that was so sincere it made Silas covertly look around to make sure no one in the empty practice room was listening.

  Cover reached inside his vest and pulled a fine silver chain from a hidden pocket. Hanging from the chain was a small purple crystal, one that sparkled as it happened to catch a ray of sunlight that reflected off a table top after coming in through a window.

  “What is that?” Silas asked.

  “This crystal is from the interior of a cave on Mount Inegalee,” Cover replied. “It carried a hidden, mysterious ability to help Movers generate their energy, but only three times each day. It is an ancient charm, and I cannot explain how it works, but I’ve always kept it securely stored in case the day ever came when I would have to put it to use as the best tool for a training.

  “You seem to be that case,” Cover said as he handed it to the fascinated Silas.

  Silas accepted the chained talisman and held it before his face as he walked towards the windows, examining the crystal in the sunlight.

  “It looks like there’s a spark of energy inside of it,” Silas decided after closely searching the sharp-edged mineral. “Is there?”

  “Different people see different things,” Cover answered enigmatically. “And very few have ever seen it, or even heard of it.

  “But I want you to try to use it this morning. First, I want you to grow accustomed to it; feel it, sense it, touch it, wear it, let it convey its strength to you. That all may take a little while, or it may not,” Cover explained. “We’ll take a break for the rest of the morning and get back together after lunch to put it to the test with you,” he explained, then dismissed Silas to go forth from their class room.

  Silas walked away at a slow pace, looking at the crystal more than at the stairs as he descended them.

  He stumbled on the last step before the landing, and started to fall, only to land in the arms of Riesta, who absorbed his falling weight while she took a step back and grunted from the force of impact.

  “What do you have there that nearly made you fall down the stairs?” she asked curiously, looking at the crystal that Silas clasped in his hand.

  “It’s just a bauble, a small nothing,” Silas instinctively lied to hide the mysterious artifact that Cover had entrusted him to possess.

  Riesta shrugged without concern, then released her grip on Silas. “Just be careful; we need you in good shape so that we can get started on the Sprites’ platform. We’ll need to start any day now if we want to be finished in time,” she observed, then continued on her way up the stairs.

  Silas pulled the crystal back in front of him and considered how to hide it. Wearing it under his tunic would be suitable for hiding it from everyone but Mata. She would soon see him without his tunic, he grinned mischievously.

  He could slide the crystal and the chain inside his belt; it would remain with him, but hidden from sight. He stood on the steps and slipped his belt off, then leaned against the wall to trap his trousers in place while he worked the crystal into the interior of his belt, and finally pulled it back onto his person.

  Then he walked down and found Mata already returned from her sword practice. The two lovers ended up bathing together before they ate lunch from a street vendor, then Silas departed to return to the classroom for an extended exploration of the power of the crystal.

  “Well Silas, did you try the crystal while you were at lunch?” Cover was waiting and immediately asked as soon as Silas entered the room.

  “No, master, but I’m ready to try,” Silas answered.

  “We’ll go and take a look at the yard where the parts of the Sprites’ platform are being fabricated,” Cover directed.

  “I’d like for you to use your powers to lift us back down to the street level,” he directed. “Now, I’m sure you spent the past few hours studying the crystal, so you should be able to use it just by invoking your powers as if you had worn the hood.”

  Silas guiltily recalled the time he had spent with Mata, ignoring the crystal completely. But Cover made it sound as if he could invoke the crystal’s abilities as simply as if he were wearing the fume-infused hood that made his telekinesis come as easily as breathing. He would attempt to bluster his way through the effort, and hope for the best.

  The pair stepped out onto the
balcony outside the tower room and Silas looked down at the street level below.

  “Descend,” he said softly, as he imagined the pair floating to the ground, gently riding upon the power that he could project.

  They each immediately did as he envisioned, and seconds later they were deposited on the paving stones.

  “Very good. I see that this is working,” Cover said smugly. “We’ll have you operating on your own in no time.”

  They walked through the city streets to the industrial sector where the laborers were busily working to bolt together the portions of the platform that needed to be raised up into place to satisfy the requirements of the ancient treaty.

  “Those long beams are piers that must be installed atop each of the four corner towers,” Cover explained, when they walked through the construction yard where long wooden and metal shafts were being pieced together.

  “They have to be lifted up to the tops of the buildings so that they may be held in place by Movers while the construction crews install them,” Cover told Silas. “And then the great Platform will be placed atop them.

  “And we’ll need to have Movers there on the day of the Sprites’ arrival to make sure everything stays elevated when the ceremony proceeds,” Cover concluded.

  “What will happen when no Sprites arrive?” Silas asked with a gentle laugh.

  “What will you say when the Sprites do arrive?” Cover countered.

  Silas grinned and nodded his head in acknowledgement of the response.

  “So, let’s see if you can lift one of these beams,” Cover suggested. He pointed at an already complete portion of the project that sat to the side of the yard. “Let me see if you can lift that entire beam, how high you can lift, and how long you can hold it there,” the wrinkled small man directed.

  Silas looked at the massive piece of equipment. It looked mighty, but given its length, he worried that it might bend or crack if not lifted with equal support given to all parts. He would have to focus on the distribution of his lifting power, as well as the weight he lifted, the height he lifted it to, and then the length of time he could keep it aloft.