Sea Dweller (Birthstone Series) (5 page)

Chapter 4

As I crept toward the
firelight of the festival the scent of tangy-sweet, nearly intoxicating Vairdan
dishes wafted through the air. My stomach growled audibly. I inhaled each aroma
until I reached the edge of Lailie’s center, where everything converged in a
blaze of color and brilliance.

Situated near the main path
into town, a roaring fire licked at roasting fowl and fish as they turned on
spits above the flames. Nearby, tables groaned under the weight of foods and
dishes in an endless array of colors and shades, bright enough to pass as
decoration.

Several torches burned in
front of each village leader’s hut, lighting up the main center of town with a
warm cheerful glow where people mingled, danced, and ate. Game booths had been
set up and I spotted Sai with a group of friends crowded around one. A handmade,
stuffed boar rocked crazily from the top of the booth while Sai tried to hit it
between the eyes with a blow dart. His friends cheered when his last shot hit
the boar on the snout. They grouped around him, offering congratulatory slaps
on the back while fighting over whose turn was next.

Captivated by the constant
motion around me, I approached the throng. Several pairs of eyes followed my
movements. After I glimpsed numerous smiles thrown in my direction, I let out a
sigh of relief. So far, my presence was accepted.

I inched through the crowd
toward the food tables and chose a small wooden platter to pile my treats on. I
didn’t mind the bumps and nudges as people, anxious to reach their favorite
foods, elbowed me around the table. Instead, I observed what the best dishes
seemed to be and made sure to sample a bit of each one. After spotting an empty
bench nearby, I seated myself and began to eat, thoroughly entertained with the
activities flurrying around me. Festival goers swirled in motion, dancing, and
playing. I caught sight of Faema and her worshipful friends clustered together,
chatting loudly over the music. Sai and his group moved from booth to booth,
earning prizes.

I watched him for a moment,
fascinated with his costume. Large black rocks hung around his neck and rested
on his bare chest. Around his forehead he wore an ebony band that glittered
with dark polished pebbles. Long black pants covered the bottom half of his
body, uncommon clothing for island life. Fastened to his side was a wooden
sword, a weapon the islanders knew little about. I assumed his attire was in
honor of his role in one of the Vairdan plays to be performed later that
evening. Still, in spite of his strange clothing, my heart beat faster at the
sight of him.

I was content to watch for a
while as guests whirled and danced around me. The vivid hues of their costumes
created a vortex of color as they spun in sync to the rapid beat of drums and
flutes, and I grew deliciously dizzy, as though I’d guzzled cups full of pineapple
wine.

As the evening wore on, the
numbers of attendees rapidly grew. I drank in the sight of them, anxious to see
what costumes they would wear. Amidst the trees, people who had traveled from
villages as far as the north shore put up tents for a place to rest after the
festivities died down. Soon, sitting became less and less comfortable so I rose
and walked toward the game booths where much of the entertainment was centered.
I found Sai and his friends still betting on each other’s skills, loudly calling
out their best scores. I made myself as inconspicuous as possible in the throng
of people in order to observe the show.

When Haji found me later, I
was so absorbed in watching Haran trying to hit the center of a target with a
crooked spear I hardly noticed her sidling toward me.

“Having fun?” she asked, with
a nudge.

 “This is all so incredible,”
I marveled, motioning around with my hand.

“It’s a lot to take in.”

I nodded. “Did you say they
talk about the mainland later?”

“Soon. They save the story telling
because the island leaders like to make sure that everybody who is coming is
here before they begin.” Haji paused, her eyes scanning the crowd until she
spotted a woman with an armful of rocks. Pointing to her, she said, “Whenever
you see people hiding stones, they’re getting ready to start the ceremonies.”
She turned to explain further but before she could, her eyes grew round with
alarm.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

 “Corla.” She gave a slight
nod. I whipped my head around to follow Haji’s gaze and sure enough, Faema’s
closest friend was paces away, weaving toward us through the crowd.

“Say you’re from one of the
villages on the third island,” she whispered when she saw the raw panic glazing
over my features.

“Glitten?” I asked.

“That’ll work. She won’t know
anyone from there.” Haji pretended to offer a formal farewell. “Whatever you
do, don’t let on that you know me. She’ll suspect something.” With a reassuring
smile, she quickly fled the opposite direction of Corla.

I watched the girl approach
from the corner of my eye but pretended not to notice when she reached my side.
Finally, after she cleared her throat and offered a formal bow, I had no choice
but to acknowledge her.

 “I’m Corla from Lailie. Are
you new to the island?” she asked when I glanced at her. An arrogant smile
twisted her mouth. I cringed inwardly. She suspected something.

Thinking quickly, I smirked.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve come every year although few are willing to
introduce themselves to a quiet stranger from Glitten.” I hoped my tone was
cold enough to discourage her but I kept my gaze averted in case she decided to
stick around. My eye color would definitely give me away even if I fooled her
with my hostility.

Coral raised her eyebrows,
betraying her skepticism. I fought back the urge to fidget.

“I haven’t spent much time in
Glitten. It must be very small.”

“Only to you big village
dwellers.”

“Have you ever come to
Vairda’s west shore market days? I assume your family farms and trades goods
like other third island villagers?”

“My parents go sometimes but
I stay behind,” I said. “I have chores to tend to and farm life isn’t as easy
as big shore island life.” I hoped the remark would insult Corla enough to make
her want to leave, but she blathered on, unruffled.

“I think you’d be surprised
at how difficult even our shore life can be,” she shrugged her shoulders. “It
is not as simple as many seem to believe. It takes a lot of dedication and
energy to make sure life is profitable and—”

“My mistake,” I conceded,
cutting her off before she could go into too much detail.

“Do you know the girl who
left you before I came over?” Coral abruptly asked.

“The girl in the red?” I
blinked, hoping she’d confuse the abject fear on my face for bewilderment. “She
was just introducing herself. The first in years to take the time.”

“She’s from Lailie.” I
couldn’t help noticing the hint of venom in her tone. “Those are more of our
friends over there.” Corla pointed to the small group of girls who had gathered
around the booth where Sai and Haran were playing. Straining my eyes against
the flickering light, I picked out Faema again. For the first time, I focused
on her extravagant lavender gown. It flowed around her body in soft waves, and
the pale agates, sewn into the fabric, curved around her figure. I had to
admit, she looked stunning.

My eyes flitted over to Sai
and I watched him for a moment, wondering if he noticed how beautiful Faema
looked tonight.  As far as I could tell, he wasn’t paying her much attention.
Instead, he and two of his friends were attempting to slash at each other with
their wooden swords. I had to stifle a giggle when I realized it was one game I
would be able to beat them at handily.  My father would have been horrified at
their form.

“Would you like to meet
them?” Corla asked, intruding upon my thoughts.

“Probably not.” I smiled
lightly and then turned, preparing to excuse myself. “I think I’ll get
something to eat before the ceremony begins.”

Corla nodded slowly,
narrowing her eyes. I didn’t trust the expression and a little shiver careened
its way down my spine.

“I’m going to go join my
friends then. It was very interesting to meet you.”

Skipping the formal goodbye,
I simply nodded and made my way toward the feast tables. I wasn’t really hungry
but knew Corla might still be watching so I grabbed a couple of bites before
positioning myself amidst a larger crowd of festival goers. I wasn’t far from
the center of the village, but I figured I would have time to move toward the
outskirts before the storytelling began. I was mistaken.

Moments later, the music
halted and a single blow on a wooden flute brought the revelries to a halt.
Scrambling for their families, people began to seat themselves on the ground,
leaving the center of the village empty. I looked around and spotted Corla, Faema,
and Sai across the circle, surrounded by the rest of their friends. Ignoring a
pang of loneliness, I took a seat on the ground alone where I’d been standing.

I trained my eyes on my
friend and watched as Faema whispered in his ear, her fingers gripping the firm
muscles in his arm as she leaned in closer. Engrossed in imagining what Faema
was telling Sai, I hardly noticed the elderly man making his way through the
crowds. It wasn’t until he reached the center stone and called out a booming
welcome to the festival goers that I looked at him.

I’d noticed him in the
village several times but, like most of the town elders, had never spoken to
him. He was tall and his features were harsh, creased, and aged by the sun. His
straw colored hair was shorn close to his head and his brown eyes were crinkled
deeply at the corners. His lips were a solid, taut slit, as though someone had
simply sliced a mouth into his face with a blade.

“Tonight,” he began, “we will
relive the plight of our ancestors. We’ll learn of their struggle for freedom
and their bravery as they discovered the land where we now reign.” He paused
for a moment, allowing us to soak in the drama of his words. Then, he cried
out, “We will relive the history of Vairda!” He pumped his fist in the air and
the crowd cheered. Torches around the square roared as their flames burst
bigger and brighter for a moment and the audience shouted the name “Vairda”
again and again. The storyteller smiled at this, enjoying the frenzy of his
listeners. It was many long minutes before he held up his hands to silence the
crowd.

“Centuries ago,” he
continued, “our ancestors came to Vairda. But before our great land was
discovered, our people were forced to flee from. . .” he stopped speaking
abruptly while the audience leaned forward in anticipation, as though this was
a new experience for each of them. I stayed still, waiting and expecting.
Suddenly, the fire behind him exploded into a giant inferno and he finished his
sentence in the same moment, screaming, “The Land of Magic Stones!” The crowd
gasped, booed, and cheered while many jumped to their feet and shouted the
island’s name again. As they did this, the man slowly left the center of the
village.

As the cheering died down, a
new performer took the center, his skin the texture of dried seaweed. The
glassy film over his dark eyes left me wondering if he had enough vision to see
the audience. Moments later, as his gaze roved back and forth across the group,
I realized he didn’t need sight to imagine the crowd. He’d done this too many
times to forget where to look.

Behind him, several people
took their places, adorned in costumes. Most wore clothing similar to Sai’s but
none looked as strong or handsome as he did carrying a phony sword and wearing
long pants. The performers stilled, waiting for their cues but as soon as the
old man began to speak, they jumped into action.

“Long ago,” he began, “in a
land far from Vairda was a great kingdom of peasants and warriors. The warriors
worked for the evil king who ruled the land.” Numerous audience members booed
and Sai stalked into the center of the stage, glaring as if expecting all to
bow to him. Instead, more people jeered. “The king was a man of great strength
and magic and many people feared him.” Sai lifted his sword and swung it
around, nearly hitting the crowd sitting inches away. Baring his teeth, he
thrust his face in the front row and growled menacingly at his audience. I
couldn’t help releasing a small snort of laughter. The person next to me
glowered when the sound left my throat.

“In this land were magic
jewels and stones,” the storyteller continued, “that could grant the desires of
anyone who held them. Everyone would have been equal if all could’ve had a
stone.” Vairdan actors began pulling rocks from hiding places and piling them
in the center of the stage.

“But the king of the land was
greedy. He wanted the gems for himself.  He decided he would take over the
land, stealing stones and prospering from them while his subjects paid him
allegiance.

“The king commanded his
warriors to find all those who had stones. They were to take every stone in the
land and kill any who resisted. Many lives were destroyed. Families were ripped
apart. Beautiful stones, meant for the happiness of all people, became a burden
as the king’s warriors tore through the cities searching for them.” A group of
Vairdans dressed as warriors joined Sai and began to steal rocks from the
people portraying villagers.