Journey to Water's Heart

by Lea Ben Shlomo

  “Forgive me, dear Tanti. Forgive a pathetic old drunk like me—” Once again, agonized heaving cut off his words.

  Martam Og’s headache didn’t abate even when the vomiting ceased. He rose slowly, drank what little water was left in the jug, and stumbled to the grove to relieve himself. Tanti started collecting the scattered possessions, organizing them in tidy piles next to the wagon.

  Martam Og returned and stared at the upturned wagon. “My glorious handiwork,” he said and wriggled beneath the wagon, where there was a gap between it and the ground. He shoved himself in forcefully, and before Tanti’s confused eyes, he started to rise, the wagon with him.

  “Martam Og, are you crazy?”

  Martam Og continued rising until he had enough space for his arms. He lifted the wagon slowly, until it stood on its wheels again.

  Tanti couldn’t believe his eyes. The man stood tall, still pale and unkempt, panting slightly and shaking the dust off his huge hands, as though he hadn’t lifted moments ago a weight that ten people couldn’t have lifted. Martam Og’s eyes came across the bottle of wine rolling on the ground. He picked up the bottle and flung it away in disgust. The bottle shattered against the trunk of a tree.

  Tanti collected his stuff quickly. He didn’t want to stay there for even one more minute.

  “I must take my leave,” he told Martam Og. “I’ll continue alone from here.”

  “Wait, don’t go. I’ll recover soon. I promise not to drink anymore. And not to dilly dally on the way.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m going,” Tanti said. “Goodbye. And regarding the mares, I set them free when the wagon upturned.”

  “You set them loose? Where are they now?”

  “I don’t know. The shaft pressed on their necks, and they were in distress. I had to untie them before they choked.”

  “So where did you tie them, then?”

  “I didn’t. They ran away. It was dark, and I couldn’t see them any longer. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry? You idiot. Of course mares will run away if you untie them. Oh dear, my head, my poor head.”

  Tanti started walking away, slightly alarmed.

  “Stop!” Martam Og hollered. “You filthy, sparkling dwarf! Just you wait!”

  Tanti waited no longer. He broke into a run.

  “Damn you and those ugly mares!” He heard Martam Og roaring behind him. “Just you wait, I tell you!”

  The road wound like a snake and descended. Tanti ran as fast as he could, slipping and sliding. “Damn you, Martam Og,” he said. “Damn all the Blues and Whites and their letters. I’ll tear up this crazy snailed letter and be free.”

  He could no longer see Martam Og. Maybe he was chasing him; maybe he’d returned to the wagon. Tanti wouldn’t be surprised if he found out that the giant had harnessed himself to the wagon instead of his mares, and that he was pulling it himself.

  But he had no intention of waiting to find out what was going on there. He continued running. The trees disappeared, and the path started ascending to the top of the hill. He slowed his run, panting and gasping from the effort.

  The city was revealed to him as he stood on top of the hill. Towers and turrets of various heights emerged from beyond the wall, as did crowded houses painted blue. From time to time, he saw glimmers, which alternately appeared and disappeared. Tanti had no idea where they came from.

  He looked back. Still no sign of Martam Og and his wagon. He changed his mind about tearing up the letter. He’d deliver it and resume his search for the crystal mushroom. He’d been preoccupied with other things for too long.

  The moment he entered the city, he understood why it was called the City of Water.

  Its streets were full of fountains, standing in every main or side square, in streets leading to the squares, and in house entrances. Gushing water burst out of statues of animals or human busts that were installed in the walls, burbling cheerfully and watering the flowers beneath them.

  Tanti asked passersby directions to the road leading to the castle. “The signs will direct you,” the polite residents said. “Watch out for the water,” they added, though how he could be careful of the cheerful blasts of water that emerged from every direction, he had no idea. He continued getting wet as he searched for the signs that would save him from aimless wandering.

  There were arrows, yet they didn’t help him at all. Tanti got lost on the streets, the inescapable water washing over him. When he once again found himself beneath a fountain of a fleeing doe, he knew he was walking in circles.

  An old man stood next to a stream of water pouring out of the mouth of a dancing sprite and watered a flower bed with a huge watering can. Tanti stopped, wondering why he was watering that specific flower bed. Manners prevented him from actually asking the question, and instead, he asked for directions to the palace’s main gate.

  “Go east,” the man said. “First, you’ll come across a moderate ascent, and after that, a descent that will take you to a wide valley. There, you’ll see the people and those requesting.”

  “Requesting what?”

  “Requesting permission to gain entrance. Like yourself,” the man said, still watering the wet earth. “If you want to take the short route, you must follow the signs.”

  “Of course.” He thanked the man and continued on his way. After some time, he noticed the palace’s towers.

  He ran down the slope. The path became wider and turned into a wide road leading to a large gate. When he came closer, he saw Blue people—men, women, children, dogs, goats, and donkeys—walking toward the gate. There, in a green courtyard, groups of people sat, talking, eating, and drinking. A long line stretched and wound from the gate.

  Tanti ran past the people waiting in line and arrived at the head of the line, where Blue guards stood by a beautiful fountain in their uniforms, their extremely long swords in their belts, handing out forms. When Tanti reached them, they gave him a page decorated with arrows.

  “What am I supposed to do with this page?” he asked. The guards didn’t answer. A man stood next to him, wearing a huge hat, and slowly drew lines, erasing and correcting. He looked busy and was sweating.

  “What are you doing?” he asked the man.

  “I’m arrowing a request to enter. You have to fill out a request as well. Here is where you write your name. And this is where you write a short description of your request. If you want, I’ll write it for you. I’m a certified arrower.”

  He showed Tanti his page, which was stained and wrinkled, full of arrows pointing in different directions. Arrows that were folded, straight, curved, and slanted. Judging by the many erasures, it seemed as though arrowing cost him quite the effort.

  “I’m in a terrible hurry,” Tanti told the guard. “And I’m on an important mission to see the king.”

  The guard’s mouth twisted into what looked like a smile. The people standing nearby burst into laughter.

  “We’re all here on an important mission,” the arrowing man said. “They all are.” He pointed at the groups of people lounging about. “It’s very rare that a request to enter is granted within less than two or three days from the day it was submitted.”

  “But I’m here on an urgent matter regarding matters of state.”

  “And do you think we don’t have urgent matters? Look, that man over there, with the potbelly and the sheep, is at odds with his neighbor, who’s painting the fence between them yellow, an indisputably depressing color. And those people who are roasting fish want a license for a new boat marina. The couple with the triplets need name suggestions. You think those aren’t urgent matters? Three sweet girls who have been nameless for two months. They eat, sleep, and cry, and no one knows who does what.”

  “I have a letter…”

  “A letter you can put in the letter box,” said the arrower and pointed at a huge box with a narrow sl
it, bursting with letters.

  “I have to deliver it myself.”

  “Well, as I said, you have to wait for your turn,” the arrower said. “And first, fill out the form.”

  “I don’t know how to arrow.”

  “You can snail, or toad, if you find it more convenient.”

  “I can write letters.”

  “In order to write letters, you have to know someone who knows how to read them. Maybe Balanter. You have to inquire.”

  “Who’s Balanter?”

  “Abaya! Who’s Balanter? Where did you come from?”

  “From far away.”

  “Perhaps you’re hungry? We have sandwiches with sausage and valley-made wine.”

  “Not wine, no. I need to get in.”

  Tanti felt as though he couldn’t breathe. He tried to shove by the guards, but they blocked his way with their swords after pulling them out of their sheaths.

  “You’d better prepare a place to sleep tonight,” a young man said generously.

  “First, fill out the form and hand it in. Otherwise, others will enter before you, and you’ll stay here until the weekend.” Once again, the people surrounding him chuckled.

  “I don’t know what it says here, on the form. And I also don’t know how to arrow.”

  “Like all of us, more or less,” said the young man. “You can use the help of an expert, for a small sum.”

  “An expert?”

  “Yes, there he is,” the young man said and pointed at the arrowing man with the huge hat.

  “He’s the expert?”

  “Registered arrower. He charges a brass coin for every sentence.”

  Tanti retreated from there. He didn’t want to hear another word about arrowing and conflicts between neighbors. He had no intention of joining the cheerful group of people waiting to enter the palace. He had to enter the palace without delay.

  He studied the closed gate and the wall. Dionun would’ve vaulted over without a problem. He would’ve climbed the wall, light-footedly, and climbed down the same way. Dionun had tried to teach him how to climb the walls. When he had practiced in his prison cell in the White Tower, he had managed to climb as high as his head. Could he pass over the wall?

  He went to the fountain and drank, turned away from those assembling at the gate, and stood at a distance, at a place where the guards couldn’t see him. He hesitated for a moment. Perhaps he should slip the letter into that letter box and get rid of it?

  Anaman’s tortured face appeared before him. “Terrible things are happening. We can’t have a war. Swear to me that you’ll bring the letter to its destination.”

  The wall was too high for him to climb using the Lizard method. He still wasn’t good enough.

  Suddenly, he heard a voice behind him. “Tanti. Tanti, there you are.” He turned back and saw Martam Og running down the slope.

  His fears and hesitation disappeared the minute he saw the giant loping toward him. He broke into a sprint toward the wall. Fear gave him strength he didn’t know he had. He accelerated as he approached the wall, lifted one leg, and then the other, and felt himself leave the ground. His legs moved quickly, and a floating feeling filled him. He reached the top of the wall, grasped the serrated bars, bypassed them carefully and flexibly, and slid down the other side.

  “Tanti, wait!” Martam Og’s roared spurred him to quicken his pace.

  He ran down the paved road toward the Blue Palace.

  Martam Og reached the place where Tanti had stood. “Come back,” he shouted. “I just want to talk to you.” He still couldn’t figure how Tanti had climbed the wall and disappeared behind it. Martam Og turned to the gate.

  “Hurry and open the gate,” he said to the guards. “I need to go in.”

  “Sure, we’ll open the gate immediately,” one of the guards said. “First, you have to fill out the form.” He gave Martam Og a blue paper.

  “Open the gate immediately,” Martam Og said, crumpling the page. “Or I’ll shove these forms down your throat.”

  Beyond the bars of the gate, he noticed Tanti running toward the wide entrance stairs.

  “Excuse me, sir,” said a woman who stood nearby. “You have to wait in line.” She pointed at the long line behind her.

  “Fill out the form and wait for an answer like everyone else,” said the second guard bravely.

  “I’ll wait in line later,” Martam Og said. “Right now, I’m going in.”

  Two guards positioned themselves before him and blocked his way. Martam Og gritted his teeth. Over their heads, he saw Tanti climb the stairs.

  Without hesitating, he grabbed the two guards by their collars, picked them up, and moved them aside. Before the two of them realized what was happening, he barged through the gate and entered the palace grounds.

  From a distance, he noticed Tanti sneaking into the main tower. He hurried after him, while the guards chased him.

  Chapter 25

  Letters

  The corridor was long and winding. Occasionally, it expanded into a foyer with doors and entrances, stairs, small charming balconies, and more corridors.

  Every so often, he met people of the court, who either sauntered by or rushed somewhere. He heard girls giggling and doors slamming. Now that he was in the palace, the biggest obstacle was still before him. Where was the king? How could he reach him and give him the letter? He came across a man in the hallway and asked him where he could find the king. The man didn’t ask any questions or demand to know who he was. He just pointed toward the direction he had to go in. When he arrived at a junction that branched out, he didn’t know where to turn. Colorful girls in splendid dresses generously suggested that he follow the signs to the royal headquarters.

  The arrows, which were supposed to direct him, pointed in different directions, twisting and turning. These were letters Tanti didn’t know how to read. He also didn’t understand the logic in the twisting structure, filled with rooms, hallways, dead-end stairwells, endless balconies, and rooms that he didn’t understand the purpose of. After a morning of fear-filled flight, in which nothing had come to his mouth but some water from the fountain and with his clothes uncomfortably damp, every step of this aimless wandering became an agonizing test of his endurance.

  Two girls walked toward him. They looked familiar. “Are you still here?” one of them asked. “You wanted the king’s headquarters, if I’m not mistaken. It’s behind you.”

  “Help me, kind lady. Take me there, please.”

  “Of course.” The girl smiled kindly. “I’ll take you. All you have to do is ask. One moment. Maybe the headquarters is on the other side. Didn’t we just pass by it?” she asked her friend.

  “I think it’s one story up,” her friend said. “Let’s see what the sign says.”

  Just then, they heard a racket and the sound of running feet quickly approaching. Tanti turned around and saw Martam Og come from around the corner. He shouted and took off as fast as he could.

  “Wait, Tanti! Wait, I tell you!”

  “Stop! This is an order!” said the head of the guards, chasing Martam Og.

  “Come back, sir. The headquarters are that way, I think,” the girl said.

  Tanti eluded his pursuer, and then reappeared, only to slip through the hallways again. He changed directions and found himself before a stairwell, which led to the story above. For some time, he didn’t hear his pursuer. He stopped and got his breath back, aware that he couldn’t continue running forever. He had to find the king’s headquarters in this maze of rooms and halls, and deliver the letter.

  Another foyer welcomed him. Tanti sat down. In his country, he knew how to find his way around the mountains when he accompanied his brothers and father to search for deposits. He always managed to find hidden stones by counting on profound hunches. Why shouldn’t he rely on his senses here, close his
eyes, and enter Attunity, just like his father had taught him?

  Tanti regained his composure, lifted his head, and concentrated. In his mind, he could see the headquarters’ door. Blue, heavy, with two high wings and a silver doorknob carved like a winged dragon. He saw it clearly. He heard the voices on the other side of the door. A path of light flowed from him. He was drawn forward, toward the place.

  “Upside-down currents,” he called the drawing sensation that directed him. He got up without feeling his body’s weight, walking on the dense path of light and knowing he was on the right path.

  The king and queen sat in the round room, reading the many letters that they received from all around the country. Requests, complaints, blessings, suggestions, declarations, and questions.

  After reading, they began the tedious task of responding to all the letters, hoping to finish their duties by lunch.

  The sun shone through the window and illuminated the room in a bluish light that instilled calm and tranquility. A light breeze blew through the fair queen’s curls.

  The king paused in his writing and stared at his wife’s lovely neck as she bent over the table, at her delicate features. He thought about what a lucky man he was to have her. Then he thought that, although he was a lucky man, he was also somewhat tired.

  “How many more letters?” he asked, looking at the pile before him in despair.

  “Perhaps one hundred. Or two hundred. Soon, Tippy will come to help us.”

  “Balanter could’ve also helped us had he not gone to take care of that prisoner on the ceiling.”

  “And today had to be the day Sophit and Rashina are organizing the summer competitions.”

  “Rashina would have arrowed this all in half an hour,” Cyan said. “Because with him, every answer to a request is a gracious, detailed refusal. We could’ve done the same.”

  “We couldn’t have,” the king said.

  “No, we couldn’t have.” The queen smiled at him.