Journey to Water's Heart

by Lea Ben Shlomo

  Tanti’s cry must’ve alerted the border guards. Beyond the wall of thorns, they heard footsteps and voices. Dionun instructed Tanti to sit and sat facing him, silent, his legs crossed.

  “This passage, Tanti, is known to few,” Dionun said as the voices faded away in the distance. “You must swear to me that you’ll never reveal it, not to the Whites or the Blues, even if they don’t treat you cordially. One word in the wrong ears could be disastrous to many on both sides.”

  Tanti was quick to promise secrecy, although he wasn’t sure if he could locate the passage by himself, as it was concealed so perfectly. He was grateful for the chance to rest and get his breath back. Mostly, he was excited that he’d crossed the border and was out of the reach of White danger. Obviously, Dionun was even happier than he was, as he was returning home. Yet Dionun was uncharacteristically quiet, staring at the ground.

  “In just a minute, I’ll show you the way out to Nautilin,” he finally said. “You’ll have to walk down the path quickly. After that, look for the path leading west.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Dionun didn’t answer.

  “Aren’t you coming with me?”

  Dionun shook his head. “I’m going back. There are several things I have to finish. My return home will be slightly delayed.”

  “But Dionun, they want your head over there!”

  “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself, and without you, it’ll be much easier.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ve been a heavy burden on your shoulders. I know that without your help, I wouldn’t be here today. I probably wouldn’t be anywhere. I hope the day comes when I can repay you somehow, if only a bit of what you deserve.”

  “Beware of your words, Tanti Marin. Your gratitude may be required sooner than you assume. Perhaps even right now.”

  Tanti leaped to his feet.

  “Right now? What do you need, Dionun? Tell me, and I’ll do it. Just promise me you won’t return to the Whites.”

  “Sit, Tanti, and listen,” Dionun said and pulled him down. Pain shot through his arm again. “You don’t owe me anything. I found your company pleasing, and you earned my help when you eased Anaman’s pain and worries. Nevertheless, I have a big request to make of you.”

  He took a rolled and squashed paper out of his shirt. “This is the letter Anaman gave me,” Dionun said. “It has to reach the Blue king as quickly as possible. In his letter, Anaman illuminates the situation both countries are in. He warns our King Dark Blue of a conspiracy of war plotted against him. This letter can protect the country and maybe even prevent a war. Lizards aren’t popular at all at the royal court, and I’m sure your handsome face and innocence will open the king’s heart and make him listen to you. Will you agree to this mission, Tanti?”

  Tanti felt trapped. His heart felt heavy from all these secrets and missions. Dionun’s request conflicted with his plans.

  “I must return to Anaman’s home. He risked his life for us.” Dionun continued. “I must recruit our friends and rehabilitate his ruined farm, take care of his family, and mostly, expose that traitor Mondale. Otherwise, he’ll betray other people. Maybe even Ovalina’s in danger. I can’t abandon them now and simply make my way to the king. In the meantime, the letter must reach its destination.”

  Tanti nodded slightly and received an outburst of thanks and hugs. His injured arm burned. He recoiled in pain, making an effort not to shout out. Dionun moved back and apologized. “I forgot,” he said. “I forgot you’re still injured. You’re brave, Tanti. I wouldn’t have left you behind in that tower, no matter what.”

  “That’s not what you told me in our prison cell.”

  “I had to make sure you were prepared to face difficulties and that you would obey me without hesitation.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t say anything. The escape went well. Now, pay attention…”

  Dionun took the letter, smoothed it out, and turned it over to the other side. He pulled a pencil out of one of his pockets and started drawing lines and marks on the page. “This is the way you’ll go. The branching paths will take you to different villages. Always choose the slope and the west direction.” He took a bundle of coins out of his pocket. “Rent a fast horse and reach the City of Water. You have enough money to eat and sleep at an inn, in case you don’t reach your destination within a day. Unexpected delays are always possible. You must look relaxed, like a tourist or a bird explorer or whatever you choose. Maintain discretion, Tanti.”

  “Yes, of course.” Tanti put the letter in the pocket of his vest. Secrecy and even more secrecy. The letter added to the heaviness weighing on his heart. Absentmindedly, he stroked his embroidered scarf. When would he have time for his own mission?

  Dionun walked with him quite a distance, and then pointed at a distant point of light. “Keep going straight, and you’ll find yourself on the other side, at Nautilin.” He fell silent. Tanti couldn’t believe they were going their separate ways. He felt sorry for Dionun, who stood just several steps away from his own country, yet wouldn’t cross the border, which would lead him to peace and safety.

  “Goodbye, Tanti,” Dionun said. “If, by any chance, you meet one of the winemakers, tell them you’ve met me. Tell them I escaped the White Tower and to tell my sister I’m safe.”

  “Your sister?”

  “My twin sister. I told you about her!”

  “Maybe. I don’t remember.”

  “She’ll help you if you’re in trouble. She’ll also help you if you aren’t.”

  “Who?”

  “Go already, Tanti!” Dionun almost pushed him forward.

  He turned back, and then rushed away, swallowed in the darkness of the tunnel.

  Chapter 19

  At Bird Village

  Tanti took a deep breath. Nothing prepared him for what he saw the minute he came out of the cave.

  A wide valley sprawled at his feet, bordering on hills, with channels winding among them. The vegetation was lush and varied, bursting out of the rocks, wrapping them with generous abundance. Ivy of many shades coiled around the tree trunks, twisted around the branches, and dropped down, creating half-lit drapes. Plant tangled with plant, mixing and protruding, as though competing for the passerby’s attention.

  The sun embraced him in its heat. The sky was blue, and wispy clouds floated in it peacefully. The many flowers were a riot of colors—purple, blue, gold, and deep red. An abundance of butterflies accompanied him as he walked, colors and delicate shapes decorating their wings.

  As he walked, the blue became deeper in the skies, in the dark leaves and boulders, as blue as charming stones of azurite and larimar.

  The road before him wound for no apparent reason. He walked along the path until he reached a hill with a flat top. There, the road branched out in three directions. He had to choose: turn right, turn left, or continue straight. The paths before him were just as winding as their predecessors. He chose the path descending west.

  The route was pretty and enticing with all its flowers. Vines grew uncultivated and curled around the trees’ foliage. Tanti reached out and picked a juicy cluster of reddish-purple grapes. The sweet fruit was delicious. His heart sang. He was as free as a bird in all this beauty. He sang joyfully:

  Light clouds above me,

  Drifting in the the dazzling horizon

  The bird must fly –

  He has wings

  He sings.

  So must I.

  The grape is sweet and grand the blue sky.

  After some time, he stopped to rest and sat on one of the rocks. He opened the little rucksack Ovalina had given him. He didn’t know how long it would take him to arrive at a village, so he decided to make do with one roll and a sip of water.

  Something hard prodded his back.

  Befor
e he had time to scold himself for his carelessness, he heard a high voice. “If you’re a demon, I’ll drown you. If you’re a dragon, I’ll cut off your head. And if you’re a good mage, please turn me into a transparent fox.”

  Tanti turned around slowly. A little boy, about six or seven years old, stood there. He held a wood sword in one hand, and in the other, a bundle of books and notebooks.

  “Well?” The boy stamped his foot impatiently. “Bewitch me!”

  “Bewitch you?” Tanti didn’t know whether to believe his ears.

  “Yes. I have to be a transparent fox. I told you.”

  “Why a transparent fox?”

  The boy threw his books and notebooks on the ground. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? So I won’t block the view.”

  “Block whose view? Where?”

  The boy didn’t answer. He circled Tanti, touching his clothes, pulling his tassels, peeking into his white rucksack, and pulling out a soft roll.

  “You’re no mage or anything,” he said dismissively, while chewing the second roll he pulled out of the bag. “And you’re not even Blue.”

  “No, I’m not Blue,” Tanti said, fearing the conversation had just entered dangerous territory.

  “What kind of White are you?”

  “I’m not White.”

  “But your rucksack is White.”

  “True,” Tanti said, gently pulling the rucksack back, closing it, and placing it out of the child’s reach.

  “So what are you?”

  “What are you?”

  “I’m a boy. My name’s Milo.”

  Tanti exhaled in relief. At least there weren’t color issues. “My name’s Tanti.”

  “Tanti,” Milo said. “I know how to whistle better than a crow.”

  “A crow doesn’t know how to whistle.”

  “That’s what I’m telling you. I do know how to whistle. Want to hear?”

  “I seem to have no choice.”

  The boy, Milo, collected his books and notebooks. He held Tanti’s hand and said, “You’d better come with me. My mother’s waiting. She’ll be pleased to see what I found.”

  “What did you find?”

  “You!”

  Milo started whistling while pulling Tanti behind him. The sound was certainly more pleasant than a crow’s caw. Holding Milo’s little hand was nice, and Tanti found himself whistling along.

  In front of them, village houses sprawled on the edge of the hill. Herds of sheep appeared in the distance, moving in the quiet. The houses looked odd. The walls, painted in various shades of blue, weren’t always straight. Sometimes two neighboring houses looked as though they were having a conversation, while others looked as though they were rearing their heads because of an ancient conflict. The doorframes were decorated with repetitive, colorful patterns, which looked like embroidery. The structures were surrounded by cheerful gardens, separated by hedges of vines and jasmine.

  “This is our village, Bird Village,” Milo said. “Over there’s the Meeting House, and there’s the winery. And there’s my school. But I don’t like going home straight after school. First, I look for things. In the meantime, my mother makes food. Do you play the Myolna?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Pfft.” Milo waved dismissively. “I’ll learn to play when I’m older. I don’t have time now.”

  “You don’t have time?”

  “I’m busy,” Milo said. “I’m practicing. My uncle can reach the ceiling. I can only reach as high as my father’s chair. Too bad he isn’t here to see.”

  “Who?”

  “My father,” Milo said, “He left. Or should I say, he was kicked out. My mother’s mad at him. It’s the wine that made him crazy, she said. He’d go mad and break everything. The only thing he didn’t break was his chair. I miss those times when he didn’t drink. He’d tell me stories. He’d make them up, and my mother would laugh. Do you like to laugh, Tanti?”

  “Yes, very much.”

  Milo stopped and smiled, showing a row of small, perfect teeth.

  “You’re handsome,” he said. “And you’re not White. You know how to whistle excellently, and you like to laugh. If you ask my mother to marry you, she’ll agree. Even though she’s bigger than you. In fact, she’s bigger than a lot of people. You can climb the chair to reach her. She won’t mind that you talk a bit funny. Just don’t step on her barodia.”

  Tanti turned suddenly and grabbed Milo’s shoulders.

  “Listen to me, boy. I have no intention of asking your mother to marry me. Or of climbing a chair. And I have no intention of stepping on anyone’s anything. My arm hurts, and my feet even more. Nevertheless, I must continue walking, because I’m on a quest. Go on and leave me alone.”

  Milo’s eyes dimmed at once. His lips parted, and his cheeks paled. “Don’t go,” he whispered.

  Tanti fell silent. His anger vanished. He wanted to hug the boy, who looked as though he was going to burst into tears, and bring the smile back to his face.

  Just then, a group of girls and boys appeared, walking toward them.

  “Hey, Milo. What’s this thing?”

  Milo glanced at Tanti anxiously, and when he saw he was no longer angry, he regained his composure at once. He grabbed his hand again and pressed against him.

  “This is Tanti. I found him.”

  The children surrounded them, examining Tanti with obvious curiosity. All of them wore layers of clothes that were of different shades of blue. Some of them wore flat hats, like Milo’s. The girls wore decorated dresses, their long hair adorned with pins, flowers, and ribbons. “Is he White?” one girl asked.

  “Does he look White to you?” Milo said. “Look at his clothes, and the belt!”

  “He’s not Blue.”

  “No.”

  “But he has a White bag,” one of the boys said.

  “So what? He stole it from one of the guards at the border.”

  “Abaya!” the children said, deeply impressed. Milo was exciting himself with his own story.

  “Six guards sat down to eat at Hey Hill. Tanti wasn’t scared of them. He snuck behind them and snatched the rucksack.”

  “Really?”

  “Not exactly,” Tanti said. “I received the white bag as a present.”

  “The White guards are dangerous,” the girl said. “They don’t hand out presents. If they catch you on the other side, the Anurian side, they’ll shut you in a white cage. My father told me.”

  “Yeah, they also caught Milo’s uncle!”

  “So what?” Milo sneered. “He’ll kill them all and escape.”

  “And steal their cheese,” another boy said. “Like Tanti.”

  Tanti tried to explain something, but the children seemed to prefer Milo’s version and weren’t really listening to him. Milo opened the rucksack and started taking out rolls and cheese. Tanti, experienced by now, gently took the products out of Milo’s hands and put them back in the rucksack.

  “Milo’s mother would like it if you married her,” one of the children said.

  “I don’t think I’m going to do that.”

  “Okay, okay,” said a tiny, bird-like girl, who had two butterflies perching fearlessly on her shoulders. “You’re a hero. And you’ve been in Anura.”

  “I’m not a hero.”

  “We’re going to the lake, to swim,” one of the children said. “Are you coming with us?”

  “No, we have to go eat,” Milo said.

  “See you,” the children said. “We’ll come in the evening to hear how you stole the rucksack.”

  Milo pulled Tanti after him down the path.

  The gate was blocked by a jumble of vines and honeysuckle. Milo didn’t wait. He walked around it and entered through a trampled fence into a wide yard.

  “Ma, I’m here!” He called out a
nd ran into his mother’s waiting arms.

  She was tall and wide. She wore a blue dress, and on it, skirts in shades of light blue and purple. Scarves covered her shoulders. Her mane of hair adorned her head like a halo, a black so gleaming that it reflected a deep blue light. There was a flower in her hair, upon which a butterfly rested, its wings shimmering gently. In her hand, she held a bunch of herbs, which she didn’t drop, not even when she caught her son with her strong arms. She hugged and kissed him, laughing.

  Then she noticed Tanti standing and staring at her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “You’re stepping on the barodia.”

  Tanti retreated awkwardly. The woman put Milo down and came closer. She leaned toward a small bush at his feet, straightened its leaves, and smoothed them gently. “Barodia leaves lose their taste if they’re caused distress,” she said in a soft, melodic voice. She picked several leaves and continued. “Then the soup assumes a regular, tedious taste. Obviously, you’re the only man in the area who hasn’t yet tasted Dionnie’s soup. By the way, I’m Dionnie.”

  “My name’s Tanti,” Tanti said, removing his hat.

  “Yes, I can see that,” Dionnie said.

  “What can you see?”

  She pointed at the white rucksack. “You’ve come from Anura.”

  “Ma, he’s not White!” Milo said.

  “Of course,” Dionnie said and turned to Tanti. “Be whoever you are. Join us for soup, Mister Tanti.”

  “Gladly, and thank you.”

  “Pie, too?” Milo asked.

  “Pie, too.”

  “Well then, come on in,” Dionnie said. “The leaves are already impatient.”

  Shortly after, the three of them sat at the table. While the soup cooked, Dionnie set the table and quickly served small plates with all sorts of refreshments. Tanti couldn’t guess what they were.

  In the middle of the table stood a round, swollen bottle of wine, with a long, narrow neck.

  “I’m sorry I can’t add white cheese. These days, you know, the borders are closed,” Dionnie said, uncorking the bottle and pouring blue wine into the glasses.