He looked over the edge as he passed the different points of the compass, waving to the people to the north, then the east, then the south, and finally back to the west side of the heart of Faralag City, viewing the vast crowds that filled the streets and parks and rooftops of the city, all waiting for the spectacle that was foretold to unfold, a spectacle that Silas believed would not occur – he did not believe in sprites.
He stood and looked, watching the crowd watch him, as the morning unfolded. No specific time had been foretold for the arrival of the sprites, and the audience began to grow restless as the morning passed. Food vendors began to enter the heart of the city, selling treats and meals to the crowd, few of whose members had thought to pack supplies for an extended wait. Silas saw the growing numbers of thin streams of white and blue smoke rising from the grills and small ovens that the vendors carried on their carts to feed their customers.
The sun rose higher, while clouds began to blow in from the west. Silas could see the ocean, extending out to the west, beyond the harbor district of the city, the place he had once though would be his gateway to exit the city, so long ago, or really just weeks ago, when he had first arrived in Faralag with Mata.
The clouds arrived over the city just as the sun approached noon, and the crowds began to run out of patience. Silas was restlessly walking, sometimes sitting on the platform wondering when he would be allowed to publicly concede that the sprites would not arrive. He watched the shadows of the clouds begin to move across the surface of the city, mesmerized by the sight, until one shadow traveled directly towards the tall downtown towers, and he felt its shade cool his platform. It was just at the moment when a temple bell began to ring the noontime hour, while the sun was at its clouded zenith.
And then there was a brazen flourish of brass horns. Silas jumped to his feet in surprise. The sound of the horns came from above him, up in the sky, instead of from below, from the temples built down at the human scale of the city.
He looked around wildly, then fell to his knees in fearful astonishment. The sky overhead was filling with small blue bodies, dozens, then scores, then hundreds of sprites, all arranging themselves as they arrived in the sky over Faralag, forming concentric rings that circled around and above the entire platform in the sky.
The horns were blowing flourish after flourish to announce the arrival of the sprites, an announcement that was not at all necessary, as the voices of the crowd below screamed in delight and astonishment, screaming with such vigor that the walls of the city vibrated from the energy of the celebration.
After a century’s wait, the sprites had returned to Faralag.
Silas was on his knees, he realized. He had risen at some point, and then as he watched, he had lowered himself.
The trumpets grew silent, and a trio of sprites descended from the high group overhead to come down to the level of the platform, where they stopped, indirectly facing Silas, the only human present on the platform.
“We have come to address the ruler of the humans of Faralag,” one of the sprites spoke in a surprisingly deep voice. “Let the representative of the king of the land present himself for dialog.”
Silas was alone. The words were clearly addressed to him. He was clearly unprepared to answer.
In the course of preparing the platform, and in the course of being instructed that he would be on the platform, he had never, ever – not once – ever asked what he might have to say or do with the sprites. He had never expected that sprites would appear. He had never prepared for the impossible. But now the impossible was before him, and he was at a complete loss as to what to do.
A tall window in the tall tower in the center of the platform opened.
“I come to speak to you,” A woman’s head leaned out through the window, and then she lithely leaped out of the window and began to walk towards the sprite trio, as Silas watched.
“Queen Preeanne welcomes the return of the sprites in friendship and alliance,” the woman spoke in a clear voice as she walked forward gracefully.
She was a large woman, Silas observed, with a face that seemed familiar, especially the strong chin. She was a very handsome adult, with a self-possessed bearing. Silas unknowingly rose to his feet once again, and began to approach the spot in front of the sprites where the queen’s lady was heading.
She was so familiar, Silas thought as he stared at her. He had met her before somewhere. She looked over at him and winked, a gesture that confirmed their previous acquaintance – he recognized the wink immediately as a familiar and intimate message between friends. But he couldn’t for the life of him recollect where he had met the woman before, or who she was.
“What dialog do you seek?” the woman asked. She had arrived at a spot on the platform, and the sprites had descended so that they were at an eye-to-eye level with the woman, just a few feet from her. Silas stopped in a position just a few feet behind the woman, off of her left shoulder, where he could see her face in a quarter profile, a familiar profile.
“We wish to invite the queen to meet with our princess, to renew the treaty of friendship between our nations for another century of peace,” the spokesman for the sprites replied.
“Your gracious invitation is gladly accepted,” the human woman replied. “I invite your princess to speak.”
“But where is your queen?” for the first time the sprite spoke in a less formal tone, as he questioned the absence of the queen of Faralag.
Silas had never seen the queen of Faralag either, and wasn’t even aware that Faralag was ruled by a queen. He looked over at the open window, watching to see the appearance of the queen. He wondered how well she would slide out of the window.
“I am the queen,” the woman replied. “I am Queen Preeanne, daughter of the late King Prista, ruler of Faralag, Protector of the Eastern Lands, and friend of the sprites of the islands,” it was the woman’s turn to speak in a formal, stilted manner, as she replied with the string of titles that she carried.
“Ah, it is well,” the sprite replied, as the trio of sprites all seemed to stiffen their posture and appear better suited to be in the company of royalty.
One of the sprites suddenly disappeared, without sound or warning or movement, but was just suddenly gone.
“Oh, great gods!” Silas inadvertently exclaimed at the astonishing sight.
“Who is your attendant?” the speaker for the sprites asked the queen, as both sprites turned to look at Silas for the first time.
“He is a great friend of our nation, a master craftsman of a magical guild, who traveled here to help build this very platform you will dance upon,” the queen answered assuredly, startling Silas with both what she knew about him, as well as the way she phrased it.
“Only two weeks ago this edifice did not exist, before this young man exercised his great powers to construct it at our request,” the queen explained.
“He is a most powerful craftsman,” the spokesman deftly agreed with the queen.
“Look at his eyes!” the other sprite spoke for the first time. “His eyes!” the feminine sprite broke ranks and floated quickly over to the startled Silas. “They are the colors of a sprite-friend!” the small blue woman exclaimed.
“Come back and wait for the princess, Odare,” the head sprite commanded.
“But his eyes! Stillwater, his eyes!” the female pointed at Silas, nearly poking him in the eye as she did.
“His eyes tell that he is a sprite-friend! Look at the purple and gold!” Odare’s face drew frighteningly close to Silas’s as she examined him, while he steeled his resolve not to back away or flinch from the unnerving examination.
”Very interesting Odare. We’ll probe him further after the ceremony,” Stillwater chided. “Now get back over here.”
Horns released another flourish.
“Presenting, her majesty, the most glorious princess of the sprites, Dewberry the Magnificent,” Stillwater pronounced.
A sprite appeared, wearing a flaming red gown that st
ood out from the uniforms of all the other sprites.
The lovely female sprite in the red gown had arrived high in the air but floated down to be level with Queen Preeanne.
“You did that particularly well, Stillwater,” the princess praised her acting herald. “You have a bright future as my herald, provided his majesty King Jonson will allow me to have another herald.”
“You already have seven heralds,” Stillwater sniped back at the queen. “That is already one for each day of the week. Why do you need another?”
“It’s always good to have a spare,” Dewberry spoke airily. “But enough of these important affairs of state. Please announce my arrival to her majesty.”
“I just did,” Stillwater pointed out.
“Oh indeed,” Dewberry agreed.
“His majesty the king of the sprites sends his regrets that he cannot be here in person to meet you for this ceremony, but the infirmaries of old age make travel difficult for him. The princess is his chosen member of the royal family to uphold our portion of the treaty ceremony, because she is so illustrious,” Stillwater intoned in his official voice. “She is in fact the Queen of the Imps as well as a royal sprite.”
“My father’s really just so besotted with that nymph he met at Moralogo that he can’t drag himself away,” Dewberry gossiped to Stillwater. “But you are correct to point out that I am illustrious. Did you mention that I’m married to the king of the imps?”
“This is meant to be a political event, and so I did not want to drag your family’s dirty laundry out into the open,” Stillwater chastised Dewberry.
“Being married to an imp is not dirty laundry!” the princess replied indignantly.
“No, not that; I meant the part about your father and the nymph,” Stillwater clarified.
“Oh, yes, indeed,” Dewberry was momentarily abashed.
“Your majesty,” Preeanne spoke up. “How would you like to proceed with the ceremony? We have a city full of people who are waiting anxiously to see the legendary dance of the sprites take place.”
“You raise a very good point, royal friend,” Dewberry spoke with a high-minded seriousness suddenly. “Stillwater, tell the troop to begin the dance,” she ordered.
“Let the ranks take their positions; major-general, you may proceed when you are ready,” Stillwater shouted loudly.
The sprites in the air suddenly began wheeling about, taking positions, then held still in the air, until a loud whistle blew.
And the dance began. The sprites began a synchronized series of movements through the air, rising and falling as they circled around the large platform. Much of the time they stepped directly upon the pieces of the platform that Silas had created, while at other times they floated in the air as they whirled about.
Silas and Queen Preeanne moved closer together and moved towards the edge of the platform, as they tried to stay out of the way of the streams of sprites that were moving about, drawing more thunderous applause from the people on the streets below, who looked up and saw the patterns of the masses of sprites moving with precision.
The dancing seemed to last forever to Silas, but about an hour after it began, the dancers all simultaneously ceased their dancing, and then all but Dewberry, Stillwater, Odare, and a handful of others disappeared.
“Now, it is your turn to dance for us,” Dewberry announced.
Preeanne’s head rose in surprise. Silas was to her side, and in her profile he saw her eyes widen and her nostrils flare, then her eyes narrowed.
“I was not aware that the treaty called for a dance by the Faralag representative,” the woman announced.
“Oh, it does not, my queen friend Preeanne,” Dewberry agreed. “But who can stand and watch all of this without feeling inspired to want to dance on their own? I offer you this opportunity to release your own dancing passion.”
Preeanne turned to Silas for the first time during the encounter on the platform.
“Come to me Mover,” she ordered. “You will be my partner.”
Silas felt his own face grow pale and his knees turned weak as he walked the few steps to the queen’s position. She held her hands out.
“Have you danced before?” she asked.
He gave a tiny nod of his head, thinking of the few social events he had joined while he’d been a student in the Speakers Guild. Nothing had been as intimidating as the prospect he faced at the moment. He placed his hands against hers, and felt her adjust her fingers to weave between his, grasping them tightly.
“Good. Then we must put on a dance to please our friends. Will you lead?” the queen asked.
“Please your majesty, perhaps you should?” Silas couldn’t help but reply.
The queen gave a thin-lipped smile, and Silas felt her hands start in motion as her feet and body began to lead him into the opening steps of a dance.
The great horde of sprites gave a warm cheer at the sight of the human queen accepting the request to dance for her guests, and Silas thought he heard an answering round of applause from the people of the city on the ground.
“Silas, I’ve followed reports of your adventures for many months, and you’re growing up quite rapidly,” Preeanne surprised him by speaking to him as they started a stately whirling motion across the platform.
“Yes, your majesty,” he was at a complete loss of what to say, what savvy reply to give.
“Would you like to make this dance a special one for the sprites to see?” the woman asked him. They stood quite close, and Silas could see her eyes searching his face, looking for clues he might reveal about himself. Her face remained hauntingly familiar, though he dared not ask the queen why he should know her.
“If I could, I would, your majesty,” he answered belatedly, as he shook off his mesmerized study of her features.
“You could lift us above the platform, couldn’t you, so that we could dance upon the air?” the queen asked.
“Why, yes, of course, your majesty,” Silas belatedly realized her request was within his range of abilities.
“Will you lift us any time soon?” the queen asked pointedly after several more seconds of dancing.
“Oh, my apologies. I’m so sorry. Yes, of course, as once,” Silas realized here was no reason for him not to do as asked. “Rise,” he commanded.
“Oh!” a quiet exclamation escaped from the Queen, and her grip on Silas’s hands tightened as their feet left the platform and they began to glide through the air. A polite round of applause from the sprites indicated appreciation for the unexpected performance, and then distant cheers rose from the audience on the ground as well.
The pair of dancers circled halfway around the platform. It was long enough for Silas to feel that he had danced longer without a mishap that his abilities justified; he was ready to end the performance.
“May we finish now, your majesty?” he asked.
“I detect that you wish to finish?” the woman asked with a trace of a smile. “You can have a dance with a monarch any day, ho hum?” she mocked him gently.
“Yes, you may set us down. You’ve done well today, once again,” she replied before he could answer, and they drifted down to the surface of the platform.
“Queen beauty Preeanne, you have shocked and pleased my sprites with your performance! Well done, I say,” Dewberry praised the queen. “And your young companion did quite,” the sprite princess left her sentence unfinished as she looked at Silas for a moment, then studied his face intently.
“He is the one, my princess, the one with the eyes! Do you now see?” Odare floated in close to Dewberry and the pair studied Silas intently as they drifted closer. They came so close that Dewberry reached a hand out and lifted Silas’s chin, as the stricken boy failed to say or do anything in protest at the examination.
“What is it about my subject that you find so noteworthy?” Preeanne asked. “I must speak up to protect him, of course,” she came to Silas’s aid.
“His eyes are the sacred colors. He is a born and true
friend of the sprites,” Dewberry replied, as she pivoted Silas’s chin to the left and the right while she examined him. “He and we are born to share a destiny, and to be of assistance to one another,” the blue woman explained.
“Silas, your tale is about to take an unexpected turn, I suspect,” Preeanne spoke.
“I know! We can take him to the healing spring, to the marvelous waters!” Odare suggested to Dewberry, grabbing the princess by the shoulder excitedly.
“Odare, you speak great truth! We could, and we would not even have to bother that lazy scoundrel Kestrel for a change! He is so busy being a father, hmp!” Dewberry pouted for a moment.
“Are you ready to go, Silas Sprite-friend?” Dewberry asked.
“Go where?” Silas wanted to know.
“But we haven’t finished the ceremony!” Preeanne spoke up in startled protest.
“Let us go to the spring of sweet dreams, and we’ll return your young paramour to you in your palace. The ceremony is complete, the treaty is renewed, we look forward to it, and see you soon!” Dewberry was suddenly all business about taking Silas on a trip.
“Odare, Graicus, Inseat, come along,” the princess called. Silas was startled to find the bodies of the sprites suddenly pressed against him on all sides, and then the world disappeared.
Chapter 23
There was no air, and Silas could not breath. He was in a strange dimension of cold black nothingness. He wanted to shout in surprise, but there was no way to shout. Seconds dragged out into a longer and longer interval of time while Silas was torn by fear and astonishment and anger.
Then suddenly he was standing in a sylvan glade, next to a pool of water fed by billowing springs of water that tumbled down from rocks off to the side. Trees and bushes hemmed in the pool on three sides, while a pleasant green lawn fronted the fourth side of the gently rippling water.
“You will have such fun here, sprite-friend!” Dewberry exclaimed. She began to disrobe.
The Pearl Diver Page 26
