The Pearl Diver

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The Pearl Diver Page 19

by Jeffrey Quyle


  She wasn’t in the apartment, much to his disappointment. He picked up some of the leftover breakfast fruit and bread from the table top and began to hungrily consume it while he waited for Mata’s return. He felt good – confident and excited. The hood had made his access to the Mover power so effortless and easy that Silas tried to imagine what it would be like to have the ability at his fingertips. With such abilities, he and Mata could go back to Amenozume and easily protect Jade and others.

  He wandered out to the balcony and looked down at the streetscape below. People were walking about their everyday lives; it was hard to imagine living an everyday life in a large city like Faralag. He’d be glad to leave the crowds and get back on the road, traveling once more. And then someday, he and Mata would be able to settle down, hopefully in a smaller city or village. Perhaps they would live on Amenozume, so that she could resume her pearl-diving, while he could…do something, though he wasn’t sure what.

  As he looked down, he saw Mata’s familiar figure, tall and lean, with the long dark hair, strolling confidently on the street below. Two men were with her, and the three were engaged in animated conversation as they walked towards the gate of the Guild campus entrance. Silas watched in anticipation of Mata’s return to the apartment, and then found himself puzzled and vexed when the trio walked past the entrance gate to the Guild property and continued down the street a short distance, before they entered a tavern door and disappeared from view.

  He stood on the balcony, puzzled by Mata’s new acquaintances, and puzzled by his own feeling, and uncertain of how to react. He felt jealous; he wanted Mata to return immediately to their temporary home, to be as anxious to be back with him as he was anxious to be with her. But instead, she had gone to socialize with two other people, two men, men he didn’t know. And he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to passively wait, but he didn’t want to go down to find her, to barge in upon her and to visibly seem to be what he was – jealous.

  There had to be some other course of action. He didn’t know what it was, but he was sure that it didn’t involve his standing indecisively on the balcony. He would start to move and try to think while doing so. He left the apartment, and started walking down the stairs, then took a corridor to another set of stairs, and descended further. He took a turn and a corridor and before he knew it, he was lost inside the Guild facility.

  He was annoyed by the silly problem. He passed several people, any one of whom could have undoubtedly told him how to go out to the street, or how to return to his apartment. But he refused to ask for directions, hopeful that the next corner or crossing passage or courtyard would show him something he would recognize and be able to navigate around.

  He found himself, ten minutes later, at the entrance to a small chapel to Krusima.

  It was a destination, he decided, and so he opened the door under the god’s symbol of mountains and pick axes, and stepped inside, where he was alone. It was a small chapel; no more than a half dozen people could comfortably stand or kneel at the worship line.

  Silas stood and tried to let his mind go blank. He was filled with too much turmoil, concern over unimportant matters, though. He couldn’t truly worship Krusima, or think of the god, as his mind circled around the petty problems, such as Mata’s ability to socialize with others, or his ability to get lost in the Guild’s buildings. He couldn’t reverently ask for help with serious matters, such as learning to use his telekinesis upon command, or leaving Faralag at a time of his own choosing, or knowing if he was truly in love with Mata.

  “Come back when you’re ready to be serious,” a deep voice filled the chapel.

  Silas swiveled his head to the left and right, searching to see if there was a visible source of the voice, though there was none.

  The god wasn’t interested in his problems.

  “You could at least help me; you’re the one who started all of this, with the cave and the gasses and the eyes!” Silas whined loudly.

  “You aren’t focused yet. L’Anvien is coming. You haven’t yet seen the need to become a champion. You’ve got to accept that you will be a sacrifice – you will lose a great deal, so that the greater world will survive. When you accept that, you will start to live up to the challenge that you must win,” Krusima growled softly.

  Silas felt his knees weaken.

  He was going to be a sacrifice.

  Without knowing what he was doing or where he was going, Silas stumbled out of the chapel.

  Sacrifice. Sacrifice. Sacrifice.

  The word echoed in his mind as he walked through a narrow alleyway and came to the open courtyard just inside the gates of the Guild complex. He stared vacantly at the open gates, trying to digest the revelation that he was being prepared to become a sacrifice.

  “My husband speaks in harsh terms,” a feminine voice whispered gently.

  Silas turned, and found that a beautiful woman – a woman without mortal peer – was standing behind him. She was faintly translucent.

  “I am here in this city where I am worshipped so faithfully,” Kai’s voice was soft. “They build temples to me on the very tops of their great towers.

  “I can almost walk among mortals, because their faith is so great,” the goddess said. “And so I stand here now, to tell you that your sacrifice will not be the all-consuming loss that you fear. Do not let your heart freeze, dear acolyte. Just learn your lessons, keep a good and generous soul, despite whatever you may think is happening, and know that we are following your progress. I have high hopes for you,” the filmy goddess embraced him and gently placed her almost-solid lips upon his cheek, and then she was gone.

  “Who was that? Where did she go?” Mata was walking through the gate, as a pair of men waved good bye to her while they walked on down the street. “Did that woman just kiss you?” Mata asked.

  Mata walked up to him, and Silas saw a flash in her eyes. He smelled wine on her breath as well.

  “Who was that who kissed you?” Mata demanded. “You go and take your lesson to become a mighty Mover, and now you publicly start to kiss other women. Already throwing the poor little pearl diver over, are you?” her voice was growing heated.

  Silas felt dazed and stunned. He tentatively placed his hand on the cheek where Kai has pecked him. The skin felt warm.

  Mata was almost next to him, but her head was turning around, looking for the woman she had seen, a woman who was a goddess and who had completely disappeared.

  “We were in bed together this morning, and now you’re doing this?” Mata started to cry.

  Silas was still unable to come to terms with the jarring effect of the meeting with a divinity. He couldn’t clear his head of the sense of being overwhelmed by the majesty and serenity that Kai had exuded.

  Mata’s open palm cracked across Silas’s cheek, the same spot that Kai had kissed. The boy’s head rocked backwards.

  “Mata, what’s the problem?” a man’s voice sounded from the gate.

  “It’s nothing,” Mata’s voice broke with a sob as she answered over her shoulder.

  “Is this Silas?” the man and a companion walked in through the gates, approaching the troubled couple.

  “Who are they?” Silas asked, still too discombobulated by the spinning set of circumstances, with telekinetic training, emotional miscues, and divine interventions to respond appropriately.

  “Just people I met in the armory while practicing, and what does it matter?” Mata answered and asked abruptly. “I just saw you kissing a woman!”

  “I didn’t kiss her; she kissed me, and she wasn’t a woman – she is a goddess!” Silas thundered back defensively.

  “Am I too skinny for you? Did you just want to take my pleasure and then move on to someone else?” Mata was growing more and more agitated, perceiving herself as a woman scorned.

  Silas smelled a hint of wine on Mata’s breath. She’d chosen to drink spirits in the middle of the day with the men she’d grown friendly with.

  “I know Mata say
s that you’re some immortal hero, but you’ve got no right to treat her poorly here,” one of the men intruded directly into the conversation, addressing Silas.

  “You’ve got no right to take her out and get her drunk in the middle of the day, and you’re not a part of this anyway,” Silas replied angrily, ready to lash out.

  “Any gentleman who sees a lady being mistreated is a part of such an injustice,” the man stepped closer, pulled Mata back and behind him protectively.

  “Tiller, this isn’t your problem,” Mata chimed up.

  “There’s nobody here having a problem except me, who is being falsely accused,” Silas spoke in return. “But there are going to be problems for your friends if they don’t leave us alone right now,” he reached out and lightly shoved Tiller in the chest, pressing him back away.

  “I don’t have to take that from you!” Tiller shouted, and he swung a fist at Silas, striking him in the jaw and sending him crashing to the ground.

  Silas felt his anger and astonishment and embarrassment all surge wildly, and then he felt his energy surge back into his active possession.

  “Hit the ground yourself!” Silas roared.

  All three of the others in the encounter, Tiller, Mata, and the unnamed other man in the background, were all smacked down to the pavement, hard – so hard that Silas heard their heads crack against the paving stones.

  He heard no sound from any of them as he struggled to his feet, then looked at them. Mata moaned softly, as the two men began to silently move their arms.

  Silas knelt by Mata and cradled her head in his hands.

  “Mata, talk to me. I’m so sorry,” he said remorsefully. His heart was in his throat as he looked upon the victim of his impulsive use of his powers.

  Mata moaned again, and her eyes flickered open. She looked about without comprehending anything she saw, then she lapsed back into unconsciousness.

  “What’s happened here?” a pair of guards for the Guild arrived at the scene.

  “I knocked them all down,” Silas said simply.

  “I don’t recognize any of them. We’ll have them removed from the property,” the guard replied.

  “Not her; she’s with me,” Silas looked up at the guards, who recognized his uniquely colored eyes.

  The two men who had interrupted Silas and Mata’s argument began to stir as the guards started to lift their arms, and they staggered out through the gate unsteadily, under their own power, as Silas lifted Mata and began to carry her up to their rooms in the tower.

  “Silas, what happened? Where are Tiller and Stein? Where are we?” she asked as he paused to catch his breath at a landing on the stairs.

  “I knocked them down; I knocked all of you down with my powers, but I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, especially not you,” he pleaded.

  “Put me down,” she responded in a flat voice.

  “Are you sure?” Silas asked, still holding her against his chest. “I think you need to go rest in our bed for a while. I can carry you the rest of the way,” he tried to insist.

  She pressed against his chest forcefully, squirming her way free from his grasp. “I’ll find a different place to sleep,” she answered emphatically.

  They stood on the landing looking at each other.

  “Mata, don’t over-react!” he spoke insistently. “There were just some mistakes, but you don’t need to go anywhere. You aren’t going to sleep with someone else, are you?” he couldn’t help himself from asking.

  She reached out and slapped him again.

  “How dare you?” she hissed.

  They stared at one another for long seconds, until a pair of legs came into view descending the staircase towards them, and resolved themselves to belong to Riesta.

  “My lady, I’d like to move to a different room,” Mata immediately spoke up, shifting her gaze from Silas to the female Mover.

  “You two are not happy with your room?” Riesta questioned. “We can certainly arrange different quarters for you.”

  “Just for me; not for him,” Mata said pointedly.

  “Ah,” Riesta’s green eyes shifted from one to the other.

  “We have a spare apartment next to my quarters,” Riesta offered. “Shall I show you the way?”

  “You’re not serious about this, are you?” Silas asked in disbelief.

  “With your behavior in the past few minutes, yes, I’m completely serious!” Mata snarled. “Please show me the way.”

  “My apologies, master,” Riesta said to Silas. “I hope you won’t interfere. There will be time to reconcile with your betrothed in the future.”

  “Why would you call him master?” Mata asked Riesta as the pair began to climb the stairs.

  “You said yourself that he’s Krusima’s disciple, the first time we met,” Riesta reminded Mata as they climbed. “And just a little while ago, Master Cover reported that Silas showed more power in testing than anyone he’s ever seen – he said Silas actually grabbed hold of a cloud and made it float backwards!”

  The pair of women came to the next landing in the staircase, and turned to climb higher, momentarily facing Silas as they did, both their pairs of eyes shifting momentarily downward to look upon him with indecipherable expressions. Then they rose up out of sight, as Silas stood and listened to the sounds of their shoes climbing the steps.

  He stood momentarily, then abruptly sat down on a step, and fell into a state of overwhelming confusion. He had gone from a state of euphoric belief in his abilities, to despair over his relationship with Mata, and with Krusima to a lesser degree, at the moment.

  He sat for a long time, edging to the side as occasional stair climbers passed by.

  At last, he saw Kajam approach him. “I understand you’ve had a challenging day,” the veteran Guild leader said. “Why not go up to your room and relax; I’ll have a nice dinner sent to you with a companion,” Kajam counseled.

  “Alright,” Silas listlessly accepted the suggestion. He waved farewell to Kajam, then climbed the stairs up to the level of the room that he had shared with Mata.

  For just a moment, as he swung the door inward, he had a sense that his companion would be in the room, awaiting him with a reasonable-sounding explanation. He and Mata would reconcile painlessly somehow, and life would be good again.

  But he opened the door and found the room empty, growing dimmer as the westward bound sun ceased to shine its rays inward. Silas went into the bedroom where he’d experienced such pleasure with Mata just hours earlier, then sat on the edge of the bed, still too shocked by the way circumstances had changed to know what to do.

  He’d been happily exercising his powers during the testing phase, in a way that Riesta seemed to think had been significant. Then he’d returned to the apartment, hoping to share pleasure with Mata once again, only to find her not present. He’d seen her walking along the street, and after that, everything had seemed to spin and spiral and become a nightmare.

  He heard a sharp knock on the door of the apartment.

  It was presumably the dinner that Kajam had promised to have delivered. Silas trudged listlessly to the door, then opened it.

  An attractive young woman stood at the door. She wore a robe, with a lute slung over one shoulder as she used both hands to hold a large box.

  “May I come in?” she stepped forward towards the narrow opening between Silas and the doorframe, apparently expecting him to move aside. He didn’t react quickly enough though, and her shoulder and musical instrument brushed against him as she entered.

  She stopped when she was in the middle of the room. “Would you take this, please?” she slightly raised the box she was carrying.

  Baffled, Silas swung the door shut, then stepped over and took the handles on the box, surprised by how heavy it was. He marveled that the woman had carried it up the flights of stairs to the apartment.

  “Yes, I carried it all the way up here,” she seemed to read his thoughts as she spoke. She looked around the apartment. “Why don’t you put
it over there, by the balcony door?” she suggested.

  “Who are you?” Silas stood in place, his arms stretched long by the heavy box.

  “I’m your counselor,” the woman answered. “My name is Farah.”

  “What are you doing here? Are you supposed to be somewhere else?” Silas presumed that Farah had mistakenly come to the wrong apartment.

  “No, you’re the boy with the purple and yellow eyes; there can’t be two of you,” Farah replied confidently. “Are there?” she asked pointedly, confident of his answer.

  “Not that I know of,” Silas agreed.

  Chapter 17

  Silas stood with the heavy box in his hands, looking at the lovely girl with the dusky skin and light brown hair, as they faced each other in the room in his apartment.

  “Why are you here?” he tried again to learn why the girl was present.

  “I’m a counselor,” she repeated. “Kajam requested that I visit you to feed you and sooth you this evening.”

  He looked at the box he held, then looked at the lute on the girl’s back, but could make no sense of it all.

  “Put the box over there, and we’ll get started. This will all make sense soon,” she seemed once again to anticipate his questions.

  Silas chose to obey, expecting that an explanation for the whole, mysterious presentation would be soon revealed.

  As Silas carried the box across the room, he heard Farah remove the lute from her shoulder and from its case, then a few quiet strums of melodic notes.

  He turned around after setting the box on the floor and saw that Farah had settled comfortably onto the divan, as she idly strummed her instrument.

  “Before you come back, open the box and bring the wine decanter and mugs,” she directed him.

  Silas turned back to the box once again, and lifted the lid, to reveal a number of sacks and containers and items in the box, including a small brazier and a wire basket of charcoal. In one corner was a ceramic bottle and two mugs, which he dutifully carried back to Farah.

 

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