Crown of Coral and Pearl

by Mara Rutherford

  “Then let’s pretend it’s not,” I said, fighting back fresh tears. “Let’s spend this week doing all our favorite things. We won’t mention anything beyond these seven days.”

  “It won’t change anything.”

  “No. But neither will spending the next seven days crying. And I doubt the prince wants to find his new bride as swollen as a puffer fish.”

  She released her breath through her nose. I had finished with her hair and it was fanned all around her now, a mass of brown waves identical to my own. “Fine,” she said. “What do you want to do tomorrow, then?”

  “I want to watch the sunrise with you.”

  “That’s in about two hours. Would you settle for the sunset tomorrow?”

  “I suppose. Then I want to go out to the reef and swim with the turtles. I want to find the fattest oyster we’ve ever found, one with four or five pearls inside, and have Sami trade it for fresh fruit. And then I want to—”

  “I think that’s enough for one day, Nor.”

  I yawned and pulled my hair out of the way before settling onto my side. We often slept like this, facing each other. We had since we were babies, Mother said. “Should we invite Sami?” I asked.

  “Not tomorrow.”

  I smiled, relieved. I wanted a day alone with my sister. I didn’t want to think about Ilara or about marrying Sami. Tomorrow would be about us.

  * * *

  Father agreed to let us take the boat for the day if we promised to bring back some pearls. There was never any guarantee we’d find even one, but I had a good feeling about today. As soon as we were out of sight of the house, I removed my hat and tied my skirts up between my legs. We were the only boat on the water—most people, like Mother, were sleeping off the festival and wine. Zadie looked a bit green herself, but I’d forced a ladle of fresh water and some porridge into her before dragging her into the boat.

  She sat across from me now, her face shaded beneath the wide brim of her hat. Just because the ceremony was over didn’t mean she could fall into her sister’s slovenly ways, Mother had grumbled as we made our way out the door.

  “You can remove your hat, Zadie. Mother can’t see you out here.”

  She kept her gaze on the water. “I will, once we get to the reef. There’s no point in taking risks now.”

  And when you get to Ilara? I wanted to ask. Will you take risks then? We had promised not to talk about Ilara this week, but our lives had revolved around the ceremony for as long as I could remember. Now that it was over, what else was there to talk about but Zadie leaving?

  The sun was fierce today, without even the occasional cloud to provide relief. I leaned over backward, wetting my hair to cool off my head, and sighed as the water dripped down my neck. From now on, I would wear my hair loose and let my skin tan as much as a man’s. We were all destined to look like Elder Nemea anyway, with her white hair and skin like a pelican’s wattle. What was so wonderful about being beautiful, if all it meant was being sent away from the people you loved at best, and at worst, spending the rest of your life feeling inadequate?

  I usually did the rowing, to spare Zadie’s hands from becoming hard and callused, but we weren’t in a hurry today, so I allowed my fingers to trail in the water and let the waves carry us toward the reef. Our oars were wrapped in fabric to prevent as much chafing as possible, but even when the occasional blister formed on my palms, it healed quickly. So quickly that I’d never earned another scar since the incident, despite my carelessness. The doctor believed my miraculous healing ability had something to do with the blood coral, but he couldn’t explain it any further than that.

  “So,” Zadie said, “who would you consider marrying?”

  A chill ran over my scalp despite the heat. “What?”

  “I find Eyo to be quite handsome. And he always seems to find the pinkest pearls. His family is better fed than most.”

  Zadie had never asked me about marriage before. She knew I wasn’t interested in any of the village boys, that when I did daydream about the future, I always imagined a life on land, not here in Varenia. And I couldn’t bring up Sami, knowing what I did. It would be better if Zadie went to Ilara without ever hearing of it. The truth would only hurt her.

  I decided to play along. What harm could it do now? “Eyo is handsome, and he does find a lot of pearls. But have you ever gotten close enough to smell his breath?”

  She laughed. “No. Why?”

  “It smells like rotten fish. I couldn’t marry a young man who smelled like that, not for all the pearls in the Alathian Sea.”

  “Tell me, then. Who is good enough for my dear sister? Iano?”

  I shook my head. “Too short.”

  “Jovani, then. He’s the tallest boy in the village and still growing.”

  I considered for a moment, fanning myself with my hat. Jovani was tall, and his breath didn’t smell. He was fiercely protective of his little sister, who was the same age as Zadie and me. We didn’t know each other well, but in the meetinghouse before the ceremony, I’d heard several girls talking about him. From what I’d gathered, he was very respectful of his parents and a hard worker.

  Not that it mattered. I was destined to marry Sami. I remembered the way he’d slung his arm around me last night, and the eel twisted in my stomach once again. “I would consider Jovani,” I said.

  Zadie clapped her hands, pleased to have found me a suitable match. “You will have lovely children together,” she said, before the smile vanished from her face. I knew exactly what she was thinking: that we would never get to see each other’s children.

  I couldn’t let my thoughts sink so low today. I peered over the edge of the boat just as a turtle swam out of view. “We’re here!”

  “Already?”

  “Look,” I said, pointing to where the water changed color over the reef. My entire body was drenched in sweat, and I couldn’t get out of my skirts fast enough. I scrambled over the side of the boat, then let myself sink a few feet below the surface and hung suspended, weightless, there in the place I’d always felt most free. The anchor dropped a moment later, and I waited for Zadie to join me.

  She plunged in just inches away, sending bubbles into my face. I reached out and pinched her before she could get away, and then we took each other’s hands and stayed there for a moment, smiling at each other, pretending we weren’t trying to outlast the other. Even though I’d gone in first, I had the better lung capacity, and Zadie stuck her tongue out at me before shooting up toward the surface.

  I bobbed up a moment later. “So, what will it be today? First one to find an oyster is off cooking duty tonight and tomorrow?”

  “First one to find a pearl,” Zadie suggested. “What good is an oyster without a pearl, other than as a snack for Father?”

  I liked to think the oysters we found gave Father enough strength to travel to deeper waters to fish, but the truth was his ribs showed more than the rest of ours. He patted his flat stomach after dinner every night, pretending to be sated, but his portions had grown smaller as Zadie and I grew larger.

  “Very well,” I said to Zadie. “I accept.” Then I took a deep breath and dived back down, eager to get to the oysters before my sister.

  I spotted one almost immediately, and a nearby blood coral was a good sign, though I steered well clear of it. The relationship between the blood coral and the oysters was a mystery we accepted, even though the blood coral was highly toxic. All we knew was that it made the pearls in these waters pink, and a pink pearl was worth five of its paler cousins. But a blood coral cut was almost always fatal. The fact that I had survived mine was deemed a miracle by the doctor and elders alike.

  There had been a shoal here once, but as the value of the pearls continued to drop, some of the villagers had grown greedy and stripped it bare. Our best bet was now the ocean floor, nearly fifty feet down. I pushed as hard as I could,
reaching the oyster and barely believing my luck when I spotted another one just a few feet away. I grabbed both and pushed myself off the seafloor toward the surface. For dives of this depth, we didn’t bother using rocks to weigh us down, or lines to pull us back up, or even oil in our ears and mouths to protect our eardrums. But for the men who dived as deep as one hundred feet or more, such precautions were necessary.

  When I broke the surface, I looked around for Zadie, but there was no sign of her. I dropped my oysters into the boat and was getting ready to fill my lungs again to search for her when she popped up next to me.

  “Did you find anything?” I asked, ignoring the way my heart pounded in my chest. Seven years had passed since the incident, but I had never stopped worrying about my twin. The thought of her alone in Ilara without me to look out for her was almost unbearable.

  She sighed and dropped a large clam into the boat. “Just this clam. Perhaps Mother can harvest some sea silk from the beard. But no oysters. You?”

  “Two, not far from a nice, fat blood coral. I have high hopes.”

  She grunted in frustration. “I’m going to try down at the other end. Don’t follow me.”

  “Fine, suit yourself. I’m going to try here again. Scream if you need me.”

  “What makes you think I’ll need you?” she said, splashing me. Then she disappeared.

  I took a few moments to slow my heart rate down as well as my breathing. Staying underwater for long periods of time required concentration and calm. The very worst thing you could do was panic, as Zadie and I knew all too well.

  I filled my lungs with air and dived, this time a little farther to the left of the blood coral, which was surrounded by nothing but bones. Even the fish knew to stay away from it. I wondered which villager had been laid to rest here, their body wrapped in a shroud and weighted down with rocks. Was it someone I knew, or had the coral been here since long before I was born?

  I remembered the coral I’d cut myself on vividly. It was one of the largest I’d ever seen, a red tangle of branches sprouting out of a rib cage that had split right down the middle. At ten we were deemed old enough to go out alone, though Mother always sent Sami with us. He had stayed in the boat, fishing, while Zadie and I hunted for oysters amid the rocks on the seafloor.

  Zadie and I had spotted the oyster at the same time. It was enormous, with a pink luster to its shell, probably due to its proximity to such a large coral. We knew to stay away from blood coral—it was a lesson every Varenian child learned before we were ever permitted to dive—but this oyster was too tempting.

  We shared a look and immediately raced toward it, imagining a giant pink pearl that could feed our family for months. With our sights set on the oyster, neither of us noticed the fishing net caught on the rocks nearby. I reached the oyster first and turned back to grin at my sister, but Zadie was bolder back then. She came right at me, even though both of us were quickly running out of air. I propelled myself off the rocks and started toward the surface, when I felt her hand wrap around my ankle and pull.

  I looked down at my sister, who had grabbed onto the fishing net as an anchor. I kicked at her hand with my free foot, confused and angry, but she refused to let go. With my lungs burning, I reached down to pry her hand away, and that was when I realized she wasn’t holding on to the net, not on purpose. A large hook had caught itself in her tunic. She was clinging to me for help.

  The look of fear on her face spurred me into action. I grabbed onto the net and pulled myself down, then began tearing at the fabric of her tunic. Zadie was starting to panic, which made it nearly impossible to stay calm myself. But I knew if I didn’t, I’d run out of air, and we’d both drown. I managed to reach the shucking knife strapped to my ankle and slashed at the net, freeing Zadie. In her rush to escape, she pushed me backward. Directly into the blood coral.

  I had never felt anything like it, not even when I touched the hot handle of a pan as a child and my palm had sizzled and blistered. The pain as my face made contact with the rough surface of the coral literally blinded me. What started out as a stabbing sensation in my cheek immediately radiated across my face, down my neck, and into my chest. I gasped without thinking, inhaling a lungful of seawater. I don’t remember what happened after that, but Zadie told me later that she sent Sami down for me as soon as she reached the surface, knowing he could get to me far faster than she could.

  I sputtered back into consciousness in the boat, after Sami had pumped the water from my chest. The scream that tore from my throat was so loud he nearly toppled over backward. Zadie was next to me, sobbing, apologizing, but I registered nothing except the throbbing pain spreading from my cheek throughout my entire body. I was unconscious again by the time we made it home and remained that way for two days.

  Life was never the same after that incident so many years ago. Mother kept me inside for weeks after, until the wound had scabbed over and the pink skin underneath had emerged. She grew even more protective of us, and Zadie became subdued and cautious.

  As for me, I both lost and gained something that day. At first, the scar was a source of shame. But I was coming to realize that beauty—at least as defined by my people—was more of a burden than a gift. To one of us, it offered the chance to leave Varenia, but was that really freedom if we didn’t get to choose it for ourselves?

  I knew what Zadie would say if anyone had bothered to ask her.

  As the memory of the incident faded, I grabbed the oyster just a few inches from me and rose to the surface. That was when I heard the screaming.

  4

  “Nor!”

  I turned toward the sound of Zadie’s voice. She was spinning in fast circles, her eyes darting in every direction.

  “What is it?” I asked, already churning through the water toward her.

  “It’s a maiden’s hair jelly! Thalos, it’s everywhere!”

  “Don’t move,” I called. “Just stay where you are.”

  Maiden’s hair jellyfish were some of the most dangerous in the ocean, but they usually only came to the surface at night. They were easy to avoid then, thanks to the soft blue glow they emitted, but in the sun their bodies blended in with the water around them.

  “Stop!” Zadie shrieked. “Look.”

  It was a small maiden’s hair, at least. The bell was only about two feet in diameter, a near-translucent blob floating on the surface a few feet from Zadie. Long tentacles, as fine as the hair for which it was named, trailed around it. I couldn’t imagine it coming to the surface unless it was dead, but even a dead jelly could still be dangerous. I ducked under the surface to see the extent of the tentacles. They were drifting in the current away from both of us.

  I sighed in relief. “Swim backward,” I told Zadie. “It will be okay.”

  Zadie did as I said, and I swam backward as well, until we were well clear of the jellyfish. By the time we made it back to the boat, we were both exhausted.

  “Are you all right?” I asked, reaching for her hand.

  “I’m fine. I know I overreacted. I just came up a few feet away from it, and it scared me. I thought...”

  That you would be scarred. “It’s all right. I did tell you to scream if you needed me,” I teased.

  We hauled ourselves over the side of the boat and flopped into the bottom, the rush of fear slowly draining from us. I kicked at the three oysters I’d collected with a limp foot. “Should we call it a day?”

  “I didn’t find anything.”

  “You found the clam. Mother can use the silk on the gloves she’s making you.” Weaving sea silk was one of the few manual tasks our mother performed. The strands of silk, harvested from the beards of a particular species of clam, were brown in the water, but when specially treated, they turned golden in the sunlight.

  “So I found something that only benefits me? That’s hardly a contribution to the family.” Sami had offered
to trade anything Mother made with sea silk at the port—its rarity made it even more valuable than the pearls in some circles—but Mother refused. Unlike the blood coral and pearls, which existed because of Ilara and Prince Laef and all the Varenians who followed, sea silk was a gift from the sea, and therefore could only be gifted to another, not sold.

  I handed Zadie the smallest oyster. “Here, this can be yours.”

  We tucked the oysters under the shade of the bench to keep them from spoiling, but as soon as we got home, I eagerly shucked the largest oyster I’d found near the blood coral. Zadie and I both gasped when we saw the row of five pearls inside the shell, all a vibrant pink.

  “They’re beautiful,” Zadie said. “Some of the best I’ve seen in years.” She reached for the shell and paused. “It must have been very close to the blood coral.”

  I shrugged. “I was careful.”

  “Nor.” She touched her own cheek without realizing. I knew she still felt guilty for the incident, though I had spent months afterward assuring her that it wasn’t her fault.

  “It doesn’t matter now, Zadie. You’ve been chosen. You’re...” I cut myself off. I’d promised not to talk about Ilara. I forced a smile. “My beauty, or lack thereof, is no longer a concern—of mine or Mother’s and certainly not yours. I can get as ugly as I like now.”

  “Jovani might feel differently,” she said with a laugh.

  “Yes, well, I’ll have to make sure we have a speedy courtship, then, won’t I?”

  She smiled. “Mother would be thrilled to have both daughters engaged before their eighteenth birthdays.”

  Zadie had no idea how close to the truth she was. But perhaps my fate wasn’t sealed yet. Maybe there was still a chance Mother and Father would understand if I told them I didn’t want to marry Sami.

  I left the pearls in their shell and dropped the oyster meat into a bowl for Father. “And where do you suppose our loving mother is at this hour?”