Chapter 5
Bright World, Dull Heart
Dalon arrived at the resting hut before Karí. The moonlight was duller than it had been the previous night, and the air was a tad cooler, too. There had been numerous whispers in the market of an oncoming rain. On his way here, he had sacrificed two smoked fish — one for Kawalanlunod for the plentiful catch from the sea that day, and the other for Lakimpalad, to favour the trading caravan with pleasant weather and safe arrival.
He had sent word to Uncle Ilas that he wouldn’t be performing that night, so the vendor wouldn’t have to keep his stall open so late. Sometimes Dalon wished there was also a way he and Karí could pass messages, but for now, the only way they both inferred that the other wouldn’t arrive at all was to wait at the resting hut until midnight.
But what Dalon truly wished was that he and Karí didn’t need to sneak around, wished everyone could know that the new versions of the old tales he told mostly came from her. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he lacked her creative flair. He wasn’t even embarrassed that they were using an amulet.
Sometimes a person felt the need to hide their use of magic, because they would rather have others believe they possessed natural skills. Across the islands, most people admired magic that engendered inhuman abilities, but they laughed at those who needed amulets to do something other people could do with ease. Worse, they scorned those who used amulets to deceive.
It was hard to tell where the King Eyes fell. Its ability to allow Dalon to watch Karí’s mind was unnatural. On the other hand, it gave Karí the ability to communicate without needing words like everybody else. And in performing stories imagined by Karí, was Dalon presenting a deceptive version of himself?
It didn’t matter, though. Not when the bigger concern was their illicit use of the amulet. Most days, Dalon could just focus on earning money for his family, enjoying crafting stories with Karí, and delighting an audience. However, the knowledge that they were breaking the law always lurked in the back of his mind. He knew one day soon they needed to come clean, and he wasn’t sure how they’d even do that.
Quiet footsteps sounded from outside, and someone began feeling their way up into the hut. Dalon pushed aside his thoughts. He’d think about all of that after the caravan festival.
“Karí?” he said gently to avoid startling her.
“Oh good, you’re already here.” She bunched her long white underskirt and the shorter red overlay up to her knees as she climbed the ladder. She scooted down next to him, her long curls not tied up like they usually were. “How did resting while working go?”
Dalon chuckled. “Honestly, not as well as I would have liked.”
Karí clicked her tongue. “That makes me feel better. I’m afraid I’ve come empty-handed.”
“Can you make a scene out of someone falling out of a tree or getting hit on the head?” Dalon grinned. “According to one expert on stories, that’s the most entertaining part of a tale.”
“Is that so? And who is this expert you consulted?”
“A five-year-old girl.”
A soft grunt came as Karí suppressed a laugh. “Having once been five years old myself, I cannot refute her expertise on the matter. Children have the best imagination. In all seriousness, someone falling out of a tree could make a good scene, but not in the part of the story we’re trying to fix. Trees don’t grow in caves, do they?”
“What if Utaw falls through that hole you came up with that allows him to befriend Princess Maya early in the story? Does that help us at all?”
“Sure, if you want a tragic ending where he dies.”
Their combined laughter echoed in the small space.
When they quieted down, Karí added in a small voice, “I’m sorry, Dalon.”
“Don’t be,” he said. Sorry meant she believed she failed, and it was too early to determine that. “We still have time. Why don’t we review the story so far? Maybe something will click into place.”
Karí turned to face him, hand reaching out for his. Touch was unnecessary to watch her mind, but it made the images a little crisper. It also became their signal that Karí was ready to open her mind to him. The first night they met, he promised he would never intrude into her imagination without her permission again, and he hadn’t broken that promise since.
Dalon lifted his other hand to his pendant and closed his eyes. Immediately, he plunged into a dark, inky world. All around the black expanse floated white, glowing spheres, most of which were distant and dim, aside from the one right in front of him. It was the size of a ball that he could cup in both palms. Its light pulsed in a steady rhythm. Soon, tendrils of colour emerged from the centre and whirled around the ball until it was engulfed in a swirling rainbow.
“I’m ready.” Karí’s voice sounded remote, although she was right in front of him.
In his mind’s eye, Dalon reached out to the orb, and he sunk into it. His awareness fell into a depthless pit, misty colours rushing past in his descent. When he slowed to a float, an entirely different world surrounded him. The corners were sharp, and the colours were intensified to their fullest. A haggard man holding the hand of a boy appeared before him. They were in a field, the silhouettes of grand houses and structures looming behind them. They weren’t moving. Not yet.
“I’m here,” Dalon said, and his voice was muffled too, like hearing it underwater.
The man and the boy trudged through the field until they reached a forested area where they found a dilapidated hut. A montage of scenes followed, depicting the boy, who was clearly Utaw, and his father repairing the hut and cultivating a small garden at the back. They gathered wood, harvested water from a nearby stream, and began a humble life in the forest.
While exploring the woods, Utaw came across a heap of boulders. There was a narrow fissure on the ground in their midst. In a whir of rocks and stones, Dalon’s view descended to an underground cave. A girl, swathed in silks and resting on embroidered cushions, basked in the dim light streaming through the hole. She lifted her head and her mouth moved. The view switched above to Utaw peering through the hole, his mouth moving as well.
The King Eyes allowed Dalon to watch Karí’s imagination, but it somehow couldn’t transmit sounds. He would have to ask her later what they were talking about, but it was clear from the expressions of both characters that they were trying to get to know each other.
Karí didn’t always think in order of the events from the story, not in the way Dalon would tell it to an audience later on. One moment came a scene of an older Utaw, already under the tutelage of the rich merchant who adopted him after his father died. The next scene was of a young Utaw again, impressing the same merchant with a test, which ultimately led to the merchant deciding to take him in. The first few times Dalon had experienced this, it had confused him. Now it invigorated him. There was something exhilarating about seeing how Karí’s mind untangle the story, about being with her as an explorer while she created and fit and adjusted all the pieces together.
King Luyong came in an intimidating vision of wealth and pomp. Trailed by a train of muscular warriors and sharp-eyed retainers, he was awe-striking in his brilliant indigo silks with gleaming silver embroidery reminiscent of a cloudless night sky. When he banished Utaw from the city for insulting him, Dalon felt the weight of the punishment in his own chest.
On and on the scenes played, one after another, relentless. Dalon lost sense of himself, of time, of the physical world that he and Karí inhabited. Instead, he lived out moments in packed settlements, dense woods, cold caves. It almost didn’t matter that he couldn’t hear, he couldn’t smell, he couldn’t feel in this alternate world. The richness of the details in the visions was enough to overwhelm him.
The visions ended when Utaw infiltrated Princess Maya’s cave. The two characters stared at each other for a time, and the view slowly faded away into darkness. No, blankness. The next moment, Dalon was once again back among the sea of floating orbs. It took a while for him to regain some sensation of his own body, to blink his eyes open, and to release his hold on the King Eyes.
The dullness of the real world struck Dalon, as it did every time he exited Karí’s mind. And it wasn’t the fact that it was night, or that they were in the shadows of a rundown hut. Nothing he’d seen in his own life rivalled the vividness of Karí’s imagination, as if the gods in those worlds had imbued them with more colour and more definition.
Karí shuffled in front of him, her hand loosening from his. Dalon flexed his cramped fingers and slowed his breaths.
“I will never get used to that,” he whispered.
“What do you think so far? I hope it wasn’t too messy.”
“Not at all! It had everything we already discussed. I definitely won’t have any problems coming up with the right words.” Dalon leaned back against the wall, reviewing the scenes with characters talking to each other. “In fact, I’m sure I saw certain lip movements form some curse words back there. You really think King Luyong would say those things to Utaw while he was getting exiled?”
Karí snorted back a laugh. Even in the dark, he detected the flushing of her cheeks. “Did I do that? Sometimes my mind comes up with things I’m not aware of. No, no, we cannot have King Luyong curse. You cannot curse in a crowd filled with children and important traders.” She pushed back her hair and tied it up in a knot. “Here, why don’t we clean up their conversations? Oh, and can you come up with a good transition after the rich merchant adopts Utaw? I wasn’t sure what to put in there.”
Cool wind drifted into the hut as they settled into a comfortable discussion. From time to time, they used the King Eyes again to try different actions in the scenes, to slow down or speed up events, or to experiment with the characters’ expressions. Each vision infused Dalon with a wellspring of words, and as the night wore on, he and Karí got closer to the true lines that would bring this story to life.
It was well past midnight by the time Dalon returned to his silent hut and sleeping family. His tiring trek all the way back to the coast had savagely replaced his ruminations about Princess Maya with lavish daydreams about a sweet, sturdy, dependable raft. Even if the tide was out, and he couldn’t have possibly rowed all the way to the ladder steps of his own home, he could at least have ridden it south of the Big River. Where he was going to tie it up was not a detail he allowed to ruin his daydreams. He would figure something out once he actually had a raft.
Dalon slumped on his mat, mind a jumble of caves and boats and rafts. Organizing the story had exhausted him and Karí, and all their attempts to fix the ending were uninspired. He slept fitfully for the rest of the night, words swimming in his head, and he was jarred awake not by the usual splash of the incoming tide, but by something that made his hands and feet go cold.
His eyes snapped open. The hut was dark and still. The swish of water against the stilts of the hut echoed below him. There was no other sound now, but he was certain he’d heard a disturbing noise. His heart wouldn’t be knocking on his ribcage otherwise.
The noise came again. It was his Ma, coughing.
Cold sweat beaded at the back of Dalon’s neck. He sat up, pushing away his blanket, and stared at the family cot, but he couldn’t see his Ma behind his father’s sleeping form.
Maybe it was nothing serious. She was probably just clearing her throat. He’d spent so much of his childhood hearing his mother cough that he always just assumed the worst.
She coughed again, longer this time. It sounded wet and scratchy.
His stomach feeling like it was full of stones, Dalon got up from his mat and stepped to the cot. His father was also stirring awake. In the shadows, Dalon couldn’t tell if his mother was flushed or pale with illness, but when he leaned over and laid a hand on her forehead, her burning skin gave him the answer. The weight in his belly got heavier.
“What’s the matter?” his Pa asked, sitting up at the edge of the cot.
“I think Ma is sick.”
His mother’s eyes fluttered open, and she sniffed. “I’m fine, just lightheaded.” The tone of her voice was different, lower and more nasal. Her shoulders were hunched up to her ears, hands folded close to her chest.
Dalon’s Pa stood up and gathered a few more blankets and shawls from a chest. “Probably just a cold,” he whispered as he laid them over his wife. Another series of coughs racked her again. Toba rolled over and groaned awake.
“Yes, it does feel like a cold,” his Ma agreed, tucking herself under the coverings. “Likely caught it from Kinan. She was sniffling when she paid for the net. Dalon, why don’t you take Toba over to Aunt Lisay for the day?”
A hundred similar memories rushed at Dalon. How many times had he stood in this exact spot by the cot, looking at his mother? In some of them, the cot was up to his chest, while in others, it was down by his thighs. Present in all of them were the drumming of anxiety in his bones and the tickle of helplessness in his chest. Maybe he was being punished for forgetting his Ma’s birthday, for taking her good health for granted.
Dalon swallowed, rooting himself in the present. He was older now. He had money. He knew what to do. There was no need to make this situation worse than it was.
Dalon helped Toba off the cot. He crouched before the toddler, who was sleepily rubbing his eyes. His short hair stuck up in places.
“Hey, Toba. We’re going to visit Aunt Lisay, okay? You remember her, right? She’s the woman with all the toys.”
Aunt Lisay was an unmarried elderly woman who lived a few houses down, usually available to look after her neighbours’ children. She was nice enough and had some good toys lying around. Dalon had stayed with her himself a few times as a younger boy.
He handed Toba his favourite stuffed dolphin toy. “Here, let’s take Lum with us. Good, hop onto my back now.” Dalon crouched, and Toba did as he was told, although Dalon wasn’t sure if he understood what was happening.
Dalon tied his money pouch around his waist and grabbed one of their empty buckets by the door. He would also need to gather some water to ease his mother’s cough.
This early in the morning, waiting for a raft to pass by took longer than the actual ride to Aunt Lisay’s. Dalon was a bit embarrassed knocking on Aunt Lisay’s door, but the woman already seemed awake when she welcomed them. Her graying hair was up in a neat bun, and there were no traces of sleep on her face. Her long-sleeved tunic was thinning with wear, but clean and well-mended, and the hem of her upper skirt was embroidered with animals and trees, surely eye-catching to little children.
Her hut was no larger than Dalon’s own home, but it looked much more spacious, with only a single person living inside. Her cot was slimmer, and there were only a couple of chests stacked together at the back of the hut. A tidy shelf in the corner held handwoven toys, soft blankets, wooden blocks, and shell games. The hut itself seemed sturdier than theirs, even though similar to others in this neighbourhood, it could use a repair or two.
“Ma came down with a cold,” Dalon explained, kneeling on the floor to let Toba off his back. His brother stuck close to him and gripped three of his fingers when he stood up. “We were hoping Toba could stay with you for today.”
“Of course,” Aunt Lisay smiled. “Only two other kids will come in the afternoon. We’ll have fun, won’t we, little Toba?”
Toba hugged Dalon’s thigh, while Dalon picked out enough beads from his pouch to cover the full day’s care, plus a little extra should Aunt Lisay need to get anything for Toba. The woman accepted the payment gratefully and waved Toba over to her rolls of sleeping mats.
“Do you want to sleep a little more? Here, pick which mat you want: red or blue?”
Toba looked up at Dalon with big, bright eyes and pointed to the door. Dalon squatted again, realizing his brother still wasn’t sure why he was here. “Ma is a little sick today. You’ll be staying with Auntie so you don’t get sick too, all right?” Dalon nodded, hoping Toba would agree with him if he seemed keen on the idea himself. If only Toba knew how to speak more words, Dalon would know what he was thinking. As it was, he could only guess based on his gestures. “Go on and pick a mat. You like blue, don’t you?”
Toba finally trotted over to Aunt Lisay, hugging Lum to his chest. He pointed at the blue mat. She pulled it out from the shelf and unfolded it on the floor.
“I’ll come back after work.” Dalon would simply be a little late meeting up with Karí, but there was no helping it. “I’ll check if it’s all right to take Toba home, and if not, I’ll pay for the night too.”
“You’ve nothing to worry about, Dalon.” Aunt Lisay placed a blanket and a cushion, both blue, on the mat. It looked inviting enough for Dalon to feel slumber grasping at him, too. “Tell Kaaya to get enough rest.”
“Thank you, I’ll let Ma know.” Dalon turned to leave, but Toba dashed to him and hugged his legs, whimpering. “It’s okay, little man. I have to fetch fresh water for Ma. Auntie will take care of you in the meantime.”
Aunt Lisay gave them an indulgent smile. “Let him stay with you until you get a raft. He doesn’t get out much from your hut, isn’t that right? It can be scary for the little ones to be in an unfamiliar place.”
Dalon allowed his brother to cling to him as he waited for another raft to take him ashore. But when he was about to board one, Toba tried to climb down to it too. Aunt Lisay picked him up, and he wailed. Dalon winced. His brothers’ cries were loud enough to wake the neighbours, if they weren’t already up.
“I’ll be back, Toba!” he tried to reassure his little brother. Toba was reaching out to him, his little hands grasping.
“Ya!” the boy called, trying to say ‘big brother’ between sobs.
Aunt Lisay gave a patient smile. “Go, Dalon. We’ve done what we can. I’ll distract him with sleep and toys when you’re gone.”
Dalon gave a weak wave and an even weaker smile as the raft-rower glided away from the hut. Toba’s cries echoed after him, and an uncomfortable guilt swirled with the worry already lodged in his belly. He breathed in the salty scent of a new day. Already, it wasn’t looking good.