104 Iyomelka's Island
Considering the possibility that the sacred wellspring might be repaired, Iyomelka was anxious to provide any assistance. Even though the magic-infused water had not started flowing yet, the crone already looked healthier, charged with excitement. Grigovar was ready to row back to the Al-Orizin so they could gather the equipment needed to fix the well.
Saan grinned teasingly at Ystya as they returned to the longboats on the beach. “If we fix your spring, I hope the water doesn't turn you back into a child.”
The young woman looked at Saan with wonder in her eyes. “Do you think that could happen?” Ystya was so strange and exotic, so beautiful… so different from the women in Olabar who flirted with him only because their fathers wanted closer connections with the soldan-shah. Saan laughed, but he didn't know the answer to her question.
On impulse, he gave the old woman his most pleasant smile. “Lady Iyomelka, your daughter might like to see my ship. We have many Uraban objects that would seem strange and wonderful to her. Would you let her join me, while I gather a few items for exploring the well?”
Ystya brightened. She could see the beautiful Al-Orizin anchored out at the edge of the reefs. “Oh, please, Mother—let me see it.”
Iyomelka turned stony. “No. My daughter must remain here, under my care.”
Saan was more hurt than indignant. “We'll be gone no more than a few hours. Do you think I would harm the girl in some way?”
Ystya clung to the older woman's arm. “Oh please, Mother! I'll never have a chance like this again! I've seen the sunken ships out by the reefs, but never a vessel when it was intact.” She blinked her large eyes. “They'll sail away soon enough… and I'll always wonder.”
Grigovar was impatient to go. “Well, make up your minds, one way or the other. If we don't get the equipment soon, there won't be enough daylight to try to fix the fountain.”
The crone's resolve wavered. “Very well. But return her to me safely—and swiftly.” She touched her daughter's slender arm, lowered her voice. “Do not be tempted by the strangeness of it, Ystya. You will gaze upon many objects from the outside world that you have never needed.”
Saan helped situate the young woman in the front of the longboat, then he and Grigovar pushed it off the beach into the water. Ystya held on to the gunwales as the boat rocked. When the big reef diver climbed aboard, he set the oars into the locks and began to row. One of the green seaweed plaits in Ystya's ivory-colored hair came unraveled and blew away, and she laughed.
Saan touched her hand. “Look behind you. Look at your home.”
Ystya turned to see the receding shore and caught her breath. “I can see the whole island from here!”
“That spot of land is the edge of your world, all you've ever known.” Then Saan directed her gaze out toward the Al-Orizin and the great ocean beyond. “But the real edge of the world is far, far from here. That's where my crew and I are going—to find Terravitae and the Key to Creation.”
“You must have seen many wonderful things.”
“Not enough of them, not yet. We still have a long voyage ahead of us.” As if sharing a secret, Saan described Olabar and the palace in the brightest possible terms. He told her the story of finding the real Golden Fern in the forest when he was just a boy; he described crossing the Great Desert in a sand coracle, and how he had lived among the Nunghals as they herded buffalo across the plains. He talked about the seafaring Nunghal-Su, whose families lived aboard hundreds of ships that crossed the Southern Sea. With each description, Ystya grew more amazed, and Saan didn't even have to exaggerate.
When the longboat pulled up alongside the Al-Orizin and crewmen tossed down the rope ladder, Ystya touched the hull. “This was built by your people?”
“Yes. There are many such vessels in Olabar harbor.”
Once on deck, Ystya looked around, touching everything as if to convince herself it was real. While Grigovar and other crewmen busily loaded ropes, tools, and enclosed lanterns aboard the longboat for work on the dry well, the young woman asked the names of the simplest objects. Even ropes, sailcloth, stanchions, hatches, and winches were exotic to her.
In his cabin, Saan unrolled the colorful ancient Map of Urec, and her eyes widened with unabashed amazement. “Ondun gave this Map to Urec?” Her slender finger traced the outlines of Terravitae, the mysterious continent, the archaic words that she seemed able to read perfectly well. “Did it lead you here to our island?”
“The winds and storms had more to do with that. Even Sen Sherufa hasn't been able to use the Map as a navigational tool—yet. But we hope it'll lead us to the Key to Creation.”
“But you don't know what that is?”
“I'll know when I find it.” Saan never doubted his resolve or his abilities. “Urec was searching for the Key, and we will carry on his mission.”
He reverently rolled the Map, sealed it away, and led her out to the deck again. Saan felt such an odd connection to this young woman. “There's so much I wish I could show you. It's a shame to hide you away on that island.”
“I want you to show me. I want to see.” Ystya shook her head, turning away from the view of the island. “That place is like a prison. I've memorized each rock, each tree—but it's like knowing one grain of sand, while ignoring the rest of the beach. I want to know the rest of the world.”
Saan heard the longing in her voice. “Then come with us.”
“My mother would never allow it!”
“Then we'll just have to figure out a way.” She did not seem convinced by his reassuring smile, but he knew that Yal Dolicar could probably come up with a dozen suggestions, right off the top of his head. Saan was sure he could think of something himself.
He took her to the captain's wheel. “On this one voyage, I've seen that Ondun's creation is vaster than I imagined.” He leaned very close to her and whispered, “And maybe all the things I've experienced are still just a grain of sand. Think of how much more might await us.”