The Colors of Malent: Book One

By Sam Inzerillo and Tim Adams

For as long as she can remember, Alara Martin has had strange dreams about a beautiful, faraway world. They increase with intensity as she approaches her fifteenth birthday, and Alara has a hard time distinguishing them from reality. She thinks about them constantlyand wonders why no one else in her family experiences them.

After suffering from a particularly traumatic and vivid nightmare, Alara learns an astonishing truth from her parents: she is not their real daughter! Alara is devastated by the news and riddled with more questions than answers. Who are her real parents? Where does she belong? And why do these strange dreams plague her every night?

Alaras daily routine is interrupted by extraordinary landscapes, unbelievable creatures, and strange waking visions. Her search for answers will thrust her into the middle of a conflict for which she is completely unprepared. Can Alaras destiny really lie in the world of Malent? And how can Alara leave all that she loves in her current world for her true heritage? Desperate for help from anyone who will listen, Alara fights to uncover her real identity before its too late.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Mar 29, 2011
• ISBN: 9781462004515

Sam Inzerillo

TIM ADAMS was born in Newburyport, Massachusetts, was raised in Groveland, Massachusetts, and currently resides in Hudson, New Hampshire, where he lives with his wife, two kids and two dogs. Born in Brooklyn, New York, SAM INZERILLO was raised on Long Island and currently resides in Nashua, New Hampshire, where he lives with his wife and three children.

Book preview

Contents

Acknowledgments

Prologue

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

Acknowledgments

A special thanks to our tireless editors:

Janice Adams

Linda Ryan

April White

Jessica Wilson

Prologue

Get her to safety, Kuhaak. I’ll take what’s left of the honor guard and hold them off, Braliak rumbled. Lady Shu’an’s jaw dropped at the command.

Forgive my defiance, master, Kuhaak contradicted. You know their numbers are overwhelming and the best way to keep the lady alive rests with you.

No, Kuhaak, it is I who will stay. You are young and stronger. And should you need to carry her … He trailed off, staring at her swelled midsection.

Her eyes welled up at the sacrifice.

Silently nodding, Braliak pulled out a dagger from his side hilt and gave it to his prize pupil and good friend. For honor, he stated.

For the future, Kuhaak countered. They reached out, touched the other’s armor on the shoulders, and bowed their heads. Then, they both rose to attention and saluted each other.

This is suicide, she finally gasped. We must all flee. Surely our situation is not so dire that you and your men must be sacrificed.

Kuhaak turned to her and said firmly, We must go now.

She nodded at the command and then muttered to Braliak, Thank you. She lingered a moment, wanting to say more.

Braliak saluted her and said, It is an honor, my lady.

With that, Kuhaak forcefully tugged her by the arm off the path and up a hill. The ascent was steep and difficult, and after what seemed like a long climb, Kuhaak gently but sternly spoke. I know it is difficult, but we must keep moving, my lady. They are almost upon us.

I know, but I am much drained. And my contractions are coming faster now. It will not be long before she is born.

She, my lady? How do you know?

I can just feel it, Kuhaak. It is as if we can speak to each other; yet no words form. It has been like that for some time now.

They both halted, looking at each other as the clash of swords and armor off in the distance behind them suddenly stopped. But, before they could utter a word, a loud, shrill howl came from one of their remaining companions and echoed through the trees. Kuhaak’s face blanched. It cannot be, he muttered.

What is it? I have never seen such a look of fear on your face before.

Braliak is dead, he answered. I would know that battle cry anywhere.

Suddenly, she felt another contraction and grabbed her stomach. This is a fool’s quest, she thought. So far from home and all for naught … Abruptly, she felt him pull her out of her hopelessness as he reached back and snatched her hand. We must go now!

Still holding on to her stomach with one hand and trembling all over, she pressed on again. Then once more, she heard screams coming from behind them. However, they were not the typical screams of people dying by a blade or mace but of warriors pressing on in pursuit. Her face paled further at the sounds.

This way … she heard from the bottom of the tree-laden hill. They must be heading north. She shivered as they moved forward away from the voices.

Yanked forward by the insistent tugging of her guardian, she fought to stay on her feet. His grip was so tight that Lady Shu’an’s hand throbbed from the lack of circulation. Her body shuddered at the bleakness of their endeavors and as he turned his head, she observed his normally rosy complexion and bright blue eyes. They usually showed hope even in the grimmest of situations. Now his face was nearly white, and the look of defeat was unmistakable. Their flight was hampered by her condition, but if she hadn’t been pregnant, they would not have been fleeing in the first place.

Finally, she waved her free hand back and forth, panting, No more. No more. Her legs were as heavy as stone, and she paused for another contraction against a tall rock face where the trees abruptly ended. A dangerously close howl bellowed behind them and she cursed the cruel tactics used by the Fia’Scans. They were pushing her to a place beyond terrified—a place she had not known in her short, pampered life.

There, my lady, Kuhaak whispered loudly. Go behind those bushes near that fissure in the wall. You can hide there by that small crevice in the rock. Quick! Hurry!

She hastily looked at the place he pointed to before asking, What about you, Kuhaak?

There is no time. They will surely search the area and find us if we both hide. I must make my stand now if we have any hope of surviving. Now go!

Exhausted and trembling all over, she staggered to the crevice just hidden behind the bushes. With that, he bowed in her direction as if to give a final good-bye and turned to charge the search party. He raised his sword ready to attack, his hands shimmering a vibrant dark blue.

Lady Shu’an felt the energy leave her body, and as her legs gave way, she fell to the ground. Tears ran down her cheeks as she intently watched Kuhaak, in a blue blaze, rush at the first five combatants. Swinging his sword violently in a swirl, the blade sliced through each of the two leads with ease, lopping a hand and then slashing into the side of the accompanying foe. The remaining three rushed forward, and in a swirling motion, Kuhaak pulled out a side blade and whirled to slice each in the neck. With the rear garrison catching up to him, he was soon outnumbered by another ten warriors with a hooded man standing before them. A blinding green haze flashed out toward Kuhaak and knocked his weapon to the ground. The man who was now standing in front of him was tall and slim, and it was hard not to notice his glowing green eyes under the hood.

Fighting through her painful contractions, the lady fought the urge to spit when she saw him in the distance. Listening intently, she overheard, So, you’re the great and mighty Kuhaak. Heh, I’m not impressed.

Through the branches, she could make out Kuhaak’s hands glowing blue once more, and she heard him mutter a phrase "Umsha kmanum toru co—arrgh."

However, his chanting was interrupted by one of the warriors striking him in the stomach with a mace. As it struck, it vibrated wildly and exploded with a blue flame, killing the one wielding the mace and two of the closest warriors. The rest of them were knocked back except for the hooded man who was enveloped in a transparent green shield. Before Kuhaak could regain his balance from the blow, the hooded man put his blazing green hand on Kuhaak’s forehead and Kuhaak fell to the ground, writhing.

The hooded man knelt down before Kuhaak and demanded, Nice trick, but where is she?

Lady Shu’an shuddered and considered stepping out of the bushes. She could not bear to see him tortured or killed because of her. But she hesitated as she watched him kneel, obviously in pain. He was silent for now, but for how long? She slumped back toward the crevice wondering what to do. Suddenly, she felt a tingle on her back shoulder and could not move. Fear paralyzed her, but then abated as a calming sensation washed over her shoulder and the rest of her body.

Come, my lady. This is no place for the future Ehwhihan to be born.

Still paralyzed, but much calmer, she thought she felt the rock wall move a bit. Regaining some of her strength, she turned around completely to see a pair of calloused hands reach from within the dark crevice and pull her in even more. Suddenly, she was in a cavern with only a little bit of light shining in. The rock closed up with the only illumination coming from the other side of the crevice.

Come, my lady, quiet now or they will hear us. This was too much for her and she abruptly fainted.

When she awoke, it all came back to her in a flash—the heartless green eyes, Braliak’s scream, and Kuhaak’s last stand. She feared the worst for him, and her tears turned to sobs.

As she took stock of her surroundings, she lamented on the fool’s quest that took her from her husband—and her dreams with the whispers of dread and betrayal. Scanning her surroundings, Lady Shu’an found herself in a large cavern illuminated only by a cloudy brownish mass in the center. Beyond that light, she could not see. However, just inside the glow she was able to make out figures kneeling before her. One stood up and ran off. They each seemed tall and sturdy, but with features unlike any Malentling she had ever known. Lady Shu’an furrowed her brows and contemplated the tales she heard of as a child from Gromosh and from the writings on the scrolls of Ijunsia.

Where am I? she said nervously. Who are you?

Silently, they stood in front of her, motionless, waiting.

Then, from slightly off in the distance, there was a voice unlike any she had heard before. Prepare her for the ritual.

Who are you? Where am I? Why won’t anyone answer me?

Silence.

As she trembled, three hooded figures came closer, but not enough for her to make out who they were. She tried to move back, but it was difficult. Once again, she felt a large hand on her shoulder and the feeling of calm washed pleasantly over her.

Relax, my lady. Everything is to be okay. Your baby is about to be born and we must protect her at all costs. She is the future that will bring back the mighty dynasty that once was and will be again.

"What are you saying? What mighty dynasty are you speaking of? And, who are you?"

All in due time, my lady. Now, relax please and stand up. It is almost time.

Powerless to control her own body, she slowly came to her feet.

This way, my lady.

Where are you taking me? Please, I must know.

We are taking you someplace safe so that you may birth your daughter.

Daughter? How? How do you know my baby is to be a girl?

We have always known, as it was foretold to us by the Great One.

The Great One? she asked.

All of a sudden, she was silenced by a hand on her shoulder as they came to a room at the end of a corridor. It was shaped like a hexagon with curtains hung along the walls at each corner. In the middle of the room was a raised stone platform.

Am I to deliver on that? The thought more than terrified her.

One of the hooded men took her hand and said, Here, my lady. Lie down and prepare.

Unable to speak the words, she desperately looked around the room for evidence of what she was preparing for. The baby must be saved at all costs. She clung to that thought as she fell unconscious once again.

She was brought back by an intense contraction. Three people were holding her down, and though they were also hooded, she thought she caught sight of a set of brown eyes. Who are these people and why are they doing this to me?

One of the figures shouted, My lady, I don’t understand what’s happening or how I got here! But I promise you, you will be avenged!

She felt a bond to that one. Who was he? Her thoughts of him ended quickly as a very strong contraction hit her and she could not hold back anymore. She pushed in unison with the chanting as if that was its purpose. What was going on? Suddenly, three of the figures coalesced into colored smoke and disappeared.

Another contraction and more pain.

The man with the strange eyes raised his hands above his head and intoned, Om luka Shaw, um laka shaw, umna chi bal.

Lady Shu’an let out a scream with her next contraction and heard the baby’s cry echo throughout the hall. With that last push, her head fell back on the table and she lost consciousness.

A loud crack of thunder on the clear July afternoon startled the man, and he saw his wife flinch. They were enjoying a lovely picnic in a secluded, wooded area when the shockwave struck and then expanded causing the trees to sway and bend toward them before snapping back.

I heard something over there, she said. Do you think it might be a coyote? There was an attack across town yesterday.

He doubted it but was aware that she’d been on edge ever since they had strayed off the main path. He picked up a mangled branch and said, I’ll go check.

No, don’t. Let’s just pack up our stuff and go, she pleaded.

He reluctantly agreed with a sigh, and as he bent to grab the basket, he heard a faint baby’s cry. It sounded like it was coming from the same area his wife had indicated just before.

Did you hear that? she whispered as she grabbed his arm. He decided to circle around the area using the wide, worn path instead of breaking a new trail through the brush. As they followed the path, the sound became louder and clearer. He increased his pace until he rounded a bend and the path opened up into a wide clearing. The couple halted at the sight before them. On a large stone, next to a thick tree, lay an ornate wooden box. It had symbols carved onto the visible sides—and they were glowing faintly. It appeared that they were the only people around. The two walked over to the stone. It was about five feet high and the man had to take the box off and lay it onto the ground to see its contents.

It’s so tiny! his wife exclaimed. It’s probably no more than a few days old.

1

Alara! Sweetie! Wake up! Wake up! Harry!

From the doorway, Harold saw Mary Ellen franticly waving her hands in front of their fourteen-year-old daughter’s face. Oh my Gah—Haaaarold! Get in here, quick! Alara won’t wake up! She’s screaming and I can’t wake her up!

He rushed to Alara’s side almost knocking his wife over. Alara, honey, wake up, he gently asked.

Alara was moaning and clutching her fists as if she were in agony. Beads of sweat poured down her face, and her jet black hair was soaking wet.

Harold, abandoning his calm approach, grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her violently. Alara! Wake up!

He glanced back at Mary Ellen who was standing beside the bed with her lip quivering. She pleaded, "What’s wrong with her, Harry?"

When his wife’s expression changed abruptly, he turned back to his daughter to find her eyes open in a catatonic stare. Harold held his breath. Her body jolted upright and she gasped for air as if coming up from a deep dive in the ocean. She blinked rapidly and reached out to hug him. Mary Ellen brushed him aside as she swooped in to hug her daughter as well. Baby, are you okay? she asked sobbing.

I had the dream again, Daddy. This time it was so real. It was as if I was there.

I know, sweetie. It’s okay. You’re okay now, Mary Ellen said.

Honey, why don’t you go get her a glass of water, Harold suggested. Instantly, Mary Ellen jumped up and ran to fetch the drink. That was quite a scare, kiddo, he commented once his wife had left the room.

This one was so real. I couldn’t believe it. I thought I was really there. Each one just keeps getting stronger and stronger.

Which dream was it this time? Was it the one on the mountain cliff? Or the desert? Or the strange forest? He was always intrigued with her dreams and felt it was his way to bond with her.

It was not like any of those. And this time was different. I was there. I could feel everything as if it was happening to me—but not me. I was someone else.

It’s okay, honey. Everything’s fine now. He wanted to hear more, but she needed to go to school and he had to get to work. It was the end of the quarter for his company and all the accountants, including Harold, needed to be in very early every day that week. Why don’t you get up out of bed and get ready for school and I’ll make you some breakfast.

As he stood up from the bed, his wife came into the room with a glass of water, spilling some of it on the floor. Here you go, sweetie, she said as she gave the glass to Alara and waited as she drank it down.

Thanks, Alara said. She leaned forward to put her head on her mom’s shoulder.

Harold smiled at the sight.

Alara looked over at the clock next to her favorite picture of her and Madison. It was taken when her best friend was still recovering in the hospital from her bout with leukemia. By the time Madison’s hair fell out, none of her so-called friends would talk to her. Most of them either made bald jokes or looked away when she walked by. When her dirty blonde hair grew back and she turned into a beautiful girl, everyone wanted to be her friend again. Nevertheless, Alara knew that even though Madison enjoyed being popular, none of her current friends would ever be as close or as important to her. We were so young then, she thought. She would need to tell Madison all about the dream.

On the way to the bathroom, she heard in the distance, Take that eggshell out of the bowl. She chuckled and absently bumped into the hallway bureau. She often did that early in the morning. This time, she hit it so hard that she knocked over one of the hideous knickknacks that her mom loved to get at yard sales. Alara placed it back in the right position and continued on to the bathroom where she splashed some cold water on her face. Something in the mirror caught her eye as she patted her sallow face dry—her eyes seemed to sparkle blue. The sound of a trash can rolling down the street surprised her, making her jump and glance at the window. Shaking her head, she turned back to the mirror only to find her eyes were back to the typical boring brown color. That was weird, she thought.

Alara wondered if she could make it happen again, so she made goofy faces in the mirror until the steam from the shower fogged it up too much. Unfortunately, the same dull brown eyes stared back at her. It frustrated her that she shared a reflection with such an awkward, mostly plain girl and had hoped that her sparkling eyes might be one thing that could make her special. Madison and her mother often tried to convince her that she was. But they’re supposed to say that, she lamented as she walked to the hallway closet for a towel. She stopped as whispering from the kitchen caught her attention. She couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, so she quietly tiptoed down the stairs to a spot where she could eavesdrop unnoticed. … her dreams are getting worse, Harry. I’m really scared!

She’s always had them, even when she was younger. Why are you more scared now? Remember when we first brought her home as a baby and she used to make that awful crying noise? The endless nights she used to keep us up awake?

Yes … well … I remember, she answered him. Mary Ellen seemed distracted as she continued, That’s why I’m so worried. We just don’t know anything about her biological parents or where she came from. Then she blurted, I went to see Dr. Finn yesterday.

Alara leaned back, stunned. Biological parents? Where I came from?

What? her father yelled. Alara shook off her confusion and bent forward again as he continued at a whisper, What were you thinking?

I was discreet. I needed to see if she could give me some information about the symptoms of these dreams and possibly point us in a direction.

Look, honey, do you remember that they wanted to do all of those tests on her? I don’t want to have to put her through that.

Alara sunk back on the stairs. I’m adopted? She raised her hands to her face. She always knew something was different about her; no one she knew had strange recurring dreams like she did. But, Harold and Mary Ellen were not her real parents!

With clenched fists, furled brow, and tears welling up in her eyes, she stood and stormed up the stairs to take a shower. Once in the bathroom, she sat down; the pit of her stomach was twisting into knots. Her head was thumping and her hands shook as she brought them up to press on her temples. Alara often had migraines when she was overwhelmed. This situation was no exception. After several minutes, she finally regained her composure and jumped into the shower.

Spending more time than usual upstairs, Alara continued to consider how she was going to approach her parents about what she just heard. This is ridiculous, she finally declared. I’m going to just march down there and give them a piece of my mind.

She stomped down the stairs all dressed for school and sat loudly at the kitchen table. When her mother bent over to kiss her on the forehead, Alara leaned away with a slight scowl on her face. Mary Ellen, caught by surprise, asked, What’s wrong, dear? She looked to her husband with a questioning glance.

So when were you going to tell me? she asked.

Tell you what? Mary Ellen looked nervously at Harold and then back to Alara.

That I’m adopted!

A silence fell over the kitchen, and Mary Ellen’s face looked like she had just seen a horrible accident. Larlar, Harold said, using her childhood nickname, we’re sorry. We didn’t know when the best time to tell you about this was. It’s not as if they give you a handbook on this or anything. Anyway … you see, your mother and I couldn’t have any children of our own, so we decided to … umm—

Pumpkin, Mary Ellen said, what your father’s trying to say is that when the doctors finally told us that it would be impossible for us to have children, we decided to adopt.

Alara perked up. What was my mother like? Did you know her?

Mary Ellen looked at her and then Harold. She stammered, Well … you see …

Harold grabbed his coffee and walked out from behind the island to sit down next to Alara. He put his coffee down, looked her in the eye, and said, Well, your birthmother didn’t want us to meet her or know anything about her. It was a strange situation, but we were so desperate to have a baby that we agreed. The problem is we know nothing about your biological parents.

Alara sat there shaking her head not knowing what to say or do. Frustrated with the surprise information, she sneered, After all this time, I thought you were my parents.

But we are, sweetie, Mary Ellen pleaded, trembling and misty eyed.

Oh, please. I don’t even know what to call you now, she declared as she flipped her wrist in her mother’s direction.

We’ve spent the last fourteen years raising you and providing a loving family and warm home, Mary Ellen said with her lip quivering. Then she lifted her chin and added, And I will not sit here and listen to you judge us.

You. I … I just can’t believe this. Alara stood up from the table and grabbed her lunch from the counter. I have to go to school.

Honey, please talk to us, Mary Ellen pleaded. Please! We love you so much! We only want the best for you! You believe that, right? Please!

I … I gotta go.

2

A familiar voice from the back seemed faint as it echoed in Alara’s ears, Quiet down now, students. This is study hall not lunch.

Her best friend, Madison, turned around in front of her and whispered, Alara? Alara, hello? Are you there? Madison waved her hands in front of her face, her many bracelets clanking together. Alara sat there unable to respond to any of Madison’s attempts to get her attention.

Alara. Alara, snap out of it, her friend pleaded.

Frustrated that Madison couldn’t seem to hear her, Alara continued yelling back to her best friend of eight years that she was awake. Unfortunately, she was helpless.

Suddenly, the room turned fuzzy, and when her vision cleared, she realized she was no longer in study hall. No, no, not again! Not here! Alara shouted, but no one could hear her as she drifted off.

She found herself on a ship looking out over the rail. Her hand was outstretched, pointing at something far away. She tried to put her arm down but couldn’t. Not only was she incapable of movement, but that wasn’t her arm. It was the calloused and muscular limb of another young woman. Her head moved and a man came into view behind her.

Words came from her mouth unbidden, What is that off in the distance? The question turned into a yelp as her body lurched and almost fell. Having sea legs is one thing, but this water is unusually choppy. She heard that thought. It must have been a thought because her lips didn’t move. Powerless, Alara tried to follow the conversation.

That’s the great port city of A’kosh Na, my dear Teage, the man answered.

I’m not sure I agree with the great part. It looks like a big rock wall with holes in it.

You will see. Ha-ha. You will see.

Teage looked at Captain Korten as if he was crazy but had to turn away as her stomach roiled with the boat that continued to rock heavily back and forth. Why is it so choppy? There’s no wind.

That’s because we’re not scheduled for arrival, the captain said casually as he leaned against the rail next to her.

Scheduled for arrival? What does that have to do with the waves?

"The harbormaster will create the current needed to stabilize the waves, if he knows you are coming. Look over there. You see, the area underwater near the city is laid with dangerous coral, some natural and some placed there by the A’kosh Na natives. It was designed as a first defense to slow down hostile ships that may try to take the city."

But back to the waves? she prodded.

Right, the waves, he continued. You see, the coral acts as a pushing agent on the water as it flows in and out from the tides on the two moons. Their position will affect the turbulence and the size of the waves. The captain widened his stance as they rocked back and forth even more violently. We are lucky. This is pretty mild.

Mild? Teage questioned. Are you kidding me—urrp. Her stomach sent up some of her lunch, and she leaned over the railing to spit it out.

Alara, who was forced to taste those vile chunks, thought, That was a nasty verp.

Troubled, Teage thought, Wait, whose thought was that? And what’s a verp?

It was mine. Can you hear me? Alara asked, hopeful.

Teage didn’t respond but instead grabbed some water from the shaminska skin flask and rinsed her mouth over the rail. She shook her head, perplexed by the random thought.

The captain laughed and said, Are you surprised that such a mighty warrior as you would get sick in this? You shouldn’t be embarrassed. That’s the other part of this defense. Even the most seafaring people will get sick—and nauseous sailors are not so effective in a siege.

So how does the harbormaster control the currents? Ooahh … Teage gripped her stomach once again.

He kicked a bucket over to her and said, Here, use this. The winds change unexpectedly and you might get it right back. Then, turning back toward the cliffs, he said, You see over on the far right and the far left there are twelve big stone wheel-like circles?

She peered out beyond the rail and nodded.

Well each of those rolls to the right or the left depending on the directions from the harbormaster. On either side of the stones is a pressure plate that’s depressed when the big stone wheel is rolled onto it. When the pressure plate is depressed, it opens up a wind tunnel that forces air through the tubes that run along the ocean floor and through some of the A’kosh Na-made coral. The air is then released through the coral rising to the top, offsetting the turbulence of the waves and causing a disruption in the force from the moons’ pull on the water.

She perked up a bit. So if we are scheduled to come in, then the harbormaster just moves the stones and the water calms down?

Well, that’s a simple way of putting it. It’s much more complex than that. You see, since the stones each have a pressure plate on either side that determines where the air is sent to, the combination of the stones on the pressure plates will determine what route will be smoothed out for sailing into the city.

So that must be another line of defense—to funnel the ships into one calm area, making them better targets.

You are catching on, young one. Very good, I’m impressed.

She paused a moment and took a slow, deep breath. She suppressed the urge to vomit long enough to ask, So how many combinations are there?

Too many to count in a single day, and only a select few will make the water better. Several of them will actually make the water worse and even more turbulent.

So then, what are all of those other big holes in the face of the rock?

Those are the allowed entryways. Depending on the size of the ship, the harbormaster will send you into one of them. Oh, and the harbormaster is one of the few who know the correct combinations to use at the correct time of day. Because even as the moons rise and set, the same combination won’t yield the same result throughout the day. So as you can imagine, it’s a very complex series of mechanisms.

Now I understand why you call it the great port city.

He let out a large laugh as a wave came up over the bow. Although that part is great, that’s not why this is a great city. That’s only one of the many reasons.

‘’You mean there are more?"

Oh yes, there are. The architecture is unrivaled by any other city, and there is a second line of defense that I’ve not even told you about.

A second line? she asked with a look of astonishment.

Yes, a second line. Look through the gem of seeing. He pulled a large clear stone out of his pocket and handed it to her.

She examined its smooth finish and rigid side cuts. What do I do with this?

Well, you need to put the gem in front of one eye. The front part is the side with the rounded edge, and the inside or the part you are looking through is concave or pushed in.

Oh okay, I can see now. But what am I looking for?

Look into the entryways for the boats.

Okay, I see them now.

Good. Inside, there is a large, covered cavern that the ships can sail into. Once inside, however, they must go straight in even though all of the docks are sideways.

Sideways? she protested. Why sideways?

Because there would be no room for the ships to turn around if the docks were straight on like you would normally expect to see them.

So how do the captains turn the boat then? I’m not sure I understand.

"You won’t yet. Not until I explain. You see, my dear Teage, much like the coral made by the natives, there are also wind tunnels that shoot straight down into several curled tubes along the floor. The water in the cavern is just deep enough for the boats to get