Tidalwaves

By Tamara Wallace

All Mariah wants is to feel like she has a home. Or, at the very least, for her classmates to accept her. But with tribal tensions at an all-time high and the rumours about her mother, that's no simple task.
Until invaders threaten her island's shores and she volunteers to search for the Lost Weapons, hoping to become her tribe's hero. Now, she must trek across the entire island with a long-lost brother, a new friend, and a prince who just might be the biggest jerk she's ever met. Together, they must find these magical weapons that have been missing for centuries and avoid the group of invaders trailing them the whole way.
It's a desperate move for both Mariah and the island's leaders, but they have no other choice. Mariah and the other volunteers must find the weapons… before it's too late.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tamara Wallace
• Release date: Nov 28, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201758998

Book preview

Chapter 1

Talking to people isn't hard. All I have to do is walk over there and make myself at home. I grew up with all of them and listening never gets anyone in trouble.

Taking a deep breath, I glance at the group of girls who make up the rest of the string section. I can ask them about their thoughts on the Earth-tribe piece. It's an easy and safe conversation topic. Tugging my scarf into place, trying to control the trembling in my legs, I join my peers.

One or two of them glance at me as I join the circle, but no one asks me to leave. Someone even smiles at me.

Did you hear the rumours? Olivia asks. Which of the many rumours rippling through the orchestra is the topic of discussion today?

Yes, I think it's disgusting, Clara says.

Back up, Lily says, what are we talking about? Chloe dating Alexander? I don't think that's disgusting. At least I'm not the only one with no idea what's going on.

Olivia scoffs. No silly, the one about the quest. You know, the Lost Weapons thing with the volunteers. Chloe and Alexander are cute, but they're yesterday's news.

Oh. Why? The quest is none of our business and besides, it's so boring. Lily says.

Well, I still think it's disgusting the kings want the tribes to work together. We don't need unity or any malarkey like that, Clara says.

Come on, say something. Make them like you.

It's probably just talk, I say. A way for them to make it look like they're trying to fix problems without doing anything at all. There. It wasn't too hard.

All three of them look at me like they're seeing me for the first time. What are you talking about, Mariah? Lily asks. Olivia and Clara continue to stare.

Well, I say, I guess the kings need people to like them, at least a little bit and looking like they're trying to fix the tribal tensions might help...

Clara shakes her head in disbelief. Who wants to fix the tensions? We're so different I doubt we could ever work together.

Mariah, Olivia says, smiling gently at me, we shouldn’t waste our time worrying about things like politics. It's not our job. Stick to your music. My heart sinks. It's pointless. I grab my bag and leave, trying my best to ignore the usual parade of snickers.

The sun warms my face as I step outside onto the street. As much trouble as I have with kids my age, there is nothing they can do to ruin the beauty of the sun shining off Oshróúžt's bricks. I start making my way to the market and my thoughts wander to the girls in rehearsal.

No matter what I do, they shut me out. It's like they're determined to hate me. Why do I even bother with them? What would the harm be if I just refused to participate in social niceties? Aunty and Uncle would kick me out, but I could make it on my own.  Or, better yet, I'll run away and make my living in Fire-tribe. Maybe I would even find my real mom.

I sigh. As if I would run away. It would be stupid to leave the only two people who have ever loved me and the closest thing to a home I’ve ever known. Everything they do, all the rules they force on me is for my own good. Someone will like me eventually.

Hey, Mariah, someone yells from behind me. Wait a second.

I turn and see Terry running from the rehearsal building. Oh great, this is just what I want. Does Bosöür-hrary have no mercy on me? Sure, Terry isn't horrible when compared to some of the other boys, but I don't want to deal with him right now.

I smile and wave. Hi, Terry, can I help you with something?

Not really, he says, I was just wondering if you want to walk home together?

Not in the slightest.

Sure, I say. I'm heading to the market to pick up some groceries. You're welcome to come along if it's not too dreary for you. It's boring. Don't come.

He grins. Shall we go?

Perfect.

I smile back and resume my brisk walk to the market. Terry's grin breaks a little before he falls in step beside me.

I might as well make the best of this situation. What did you think of the Earth-tribe piece we were working on today?

Terry scrunches up his nose. It's not hard to play, but it's thick. The song plods along with no movement or anything.

It isn't that bad. At least you do something during the song.

Around us, the city is coming alive with preparations for the festival. Workers pass by as they leave the city to finish preparing the grounds for the arrival of the other tribes.

Are you ready for tonight?

I shrug. I guess. All of the pieces are pretty simple.

Aren't you nervous? It's a big deal. We get to play for all the kings, as boring as their songs are. He steps a little closer to me and bumps his hand against mine.

I shrug again and move away from him. Come on, Mariah. Talk to Terry and make Aunt Sophia happy. I find it exciting more than anything. It's a new challenge.

This is pointless. Aunt Sophia will not be happy until she sends me on a date with someone and no one is going to want to go on a date with me.

Do you want me to take that for you? Terry asks, pointing to my cello case.

I'm good, thanks. What's the fastest way I can get him to leave me alone?

Terry grins again. All right. By the way, you look beautiful today. My face flushes. The last thing he needs is encouragement.

I tug my scarf in front of my face a little more. Thanks. Why do people have to be so confusing?

We lapse into silence. The streets are quieter than they would normally be at this time of day with the festival going on. Beside me, Terry is increasingly fidgety. I try to ignore him and enjoy the warmth of the sun on my face.

For some reason, I can't get the quest rumour out of my head. It's been close to 200 years since the Lost Weapons last surfaced. If the kings are even considering the idea of searching for them, something really big must be going on.

What would it be like to hold Tidalwave? I don't know how to use a spear, but the magic sounds incredible in the songs.

Stop it. There's no reason to be thinking about this insane idea. I'm not going on the quest, even if I want to.

Terry clears his throat. He's tugging at his sleeve like crazy and his eyes dart about, never quite meeting mine. He stops and says, Mariah, would you like to check out the festival with me after our performance tonight?

I freeze in the middle of the street. I know I should say yes. Aunt Sophia would want me to go on a date with Terry, but I don't want to. Going out with him wouldn't be terrible, would it? He's nice and keeps himself out of too much trouble. Checking out the festival sounds fun and relatively safe. I still don't want to do it.

I'm not sure my aunt and uncle would let me, I say. Please let me out of this mess. 

I've already asked them, he says. They said they were fine if you wanted to come. He finally meets my gaze. Curse his good planning.

I restrain a sigh and say, Sure, Terry, I'd love to go.

His face breaks into his biggest grin yet. Awesome.

I smile back. I'll see you tonight. I adjust my grip on my cello and start heading towards the market.

See you, Mariah, he says, grinning like an idiot. There are worse ways to spend an evening. He runs off and I continue on my way.

A small child runs up to me near the market entrance with tears streaming down his face. I don't know where my mommy is, he says, barely getting the words out between sobs.

I squat down to look him in the eye. Do you want me to help you find her? I ask. He nods. What colour scarf was she wearing?

Uhm, yellow. Unique colour choice. I take the boy's hand and nudge him into the market.

People are jostling and shoving everywhere, trying to get to the stall they want, so his mother can't be far away. I desperately scan the crowd.

There's no yellow scarf anywhere in sight. A sinking feeling grows in my stomach as the boy continues to cry beside me. Where is she?

Finally, I spot a flash of yellow weaving through the sea of blue and green. She comes closer and I nudge the little boy. Is that her? I ask.

His face lights up and he runs towards the woman screaming, Mommy! The woman breaks through the crowd and embraces her child in a bear hug. I can see them talking but can't make out what they're saying. The boy points at me.

The woman looks up at me and freezes. She gently leads her child away, back into the crowd. I close my eyes. What's the big deal? I did the right thing and she still won't even say thank you. Why do they hate me? Hrary, how did she even recognize me? It doesn’t matter. She probably had a lot of shopping to do and needed to get moving or she didn’t even notice me.

As I shop, I can't help but remember all the times Aunt Sophia took me through the market as a little girl, her hand gripping mine. If I got lost the first thing she did when she found me was give me a good scolding followed by a firm hug. Aunty did everything she could to keep me safe and comfortable, but she couldn't protect me from my mother's identity. I'm her responsibility, not her daughter.

A pang of longing crosses my heart. What could the relationship with my mother have been like? I want to meet her, but I know I shouldn't.

I shake my head, banishing these thoughts, and keep shopping.

Chapter 2

The sun is at its peak as I head home with a bag of groceries on my hip. I'm not looking forward to my date with Terry, but at least it will make Aunt Sophia happy. Now if I could just make some friends, everything would be perfect.

Thoughts of my mother will not leave my head as I walk home. What if she's here at the festival? Would she even remember me? Does she want to meet me too? Do I have any siblings? Am I like her?

Stop it. It's foolish to wonder and hope. I'll never meet her and it's for the best to keep things this way.

I step off the main road and enter the narrow streets of the residential district. There's not much room anywhere in the city, but what else would you expect when you build on the edge of a jungle? Too bad the trees don’t keep the bugs out.

There are so many places out in the forest where you can hide things, especially a spear. Where could the weapon be? I smile as I remember all the times Uncle Tim and Damon took me hiking in the woods when I was little, hunting for treasure.

Maybe people would like me more if I volunteered and found Tidalwave. Sure, the other girls think the quest is a terrible idea, but the spear is still revered by the church. Anyone who finds it has to be chosen by Bosöür-hrary and if I find it, they'll have to respect me.

Enough. This line of thinking is pointless. I'm not going on any quest, end of story. All it's doing is making me dawdle. Shaking my head at my foolishness, I pick up my pace.

Finally, I reach our street. A stray cat slinks out of the shadows and I toss it a little bit of fish from my grocery bag. It meows and strolls away, food in its mouth. I mount the steps to the door but freeze when I get to the top.

Sophia, Mariah deserves to know, Damon yells from inside.

Oh dear, they're at it again. What is Damon accosting Aunty about this time? Is he in trouble with the law or the church again? Shouldn't he be at his stall at this time of day? Biting my lip, I press my ear against the door.

Damon, I know she's your daughter, but I raised her, Aunty says. She's never indicated that she wants to know. Please, let it go, Damon.

Mariah doesn't ask because you've stifled her. She's afraid to step out of line. You made her into someone she's not. I bristle at his last words. He’s not around enough to know what I’m like.

This is why you didn't raise her, Aunty says. If it were up to you, she would be a free-wheeling urchin who would end up starving in the streets once she turned twenty-five and no man would touch her. If I had a coin for every time they fought about parenting, I would be rich.

At least she would be happy, Damon says, slurring his words. I shift my weight. Why did it seem like he was always drunk now?

I want Mariah to be happy, but I also want her to have a life here. Damon, how many times do I have to explain this to you. She cannot live like you want her too. You seem to conveniently forget that she won't be allowed to work if she isn't married.

You think she won't find a husband if she doesn’t follow the rules? Don't you think she'd find someone who truly loved her if she just-

It's not the boys I'm worried about Damon, plenty of them are showing interest. It's their mothers that are the problem. They view Mariah as an outsider, and few want their boys to have anything to do with her when she's a model citizen. So, Damon, don't try to be a parent to her. You've already made her life incredibly difficult all because you couldn't help but fall in love with that girl. I'm not going to let you ruin the life she's built here.

You're worried about me ruining her life? That's exactly what you've done.

My arms are aching from holding the bag of groceries. They’re getting close to being done with their usual argument. I can't help but wonder what started the argument this time. I haven't seen Damon in months.

I nudge the door open with my foot. Hello, I say. I have some groceries, Aunt Sophia. Damon, what are you doing here? I walk into the kitchen and set the bag down. Maybe Damon will just go away now.

Mariah dear, Aunty says, How long were you outside? Were you listening to us?

I didn't hear too much, I say, giving her a quick hug. I was only outside for about five minutes. It sounds like you were wrapping up.

No, Damon says, staring at me, we’re not done.

Yes, we are, Aunt Sophia says, turning away from Damon. Thank you for getting groceries, Mariah. How was rehearsal? She starts unpacking the food, ignoring Damon standing in the living room. 

It was good, I say, helping her with the food.

Mariah, may I ask your opinion on something? Damon asks. Why won't he go away? He's lost the argument. It’s time to give up.

Damon, we are done. Why don't you go back to your stall? Aunty says. Don't drag Mariah into our argument.

Sophia, this concerns Mariah more than you want it to, Damon says. After all it is her life, her choices. He steps towards the kitchen, stumbling a bit.

I do not care. As her adult spokesperson, I get the final say until she turns nineteen. Aunt Sophia grabs Damon by the arm and drags him towards the door. Her knuckles are white, and her hands shake.

Aunty, I say, what's going on? Why are you so mad? They didn't sound like they were arguing about anything other than what they always fought about when Damon came over. 

Nothing to worry about, Mariah. Damon was trying to be a parent again when we all know there's more than one reason why your uncle and I raised you. Aunty yanks open the door and crosses her arms.

What on earth is going on with these two? Judging by Aunty’s frustrations, something else is going on besides Damon's parenting attempts. He must be suggesting one of his insane ideas.

Damon says, Mariah, don't you want to know more about your mother? Or have a better relationship with me? I'm your father after all. Don't let Sophia shut me out. I reel and stare at Damon. Why is he pulling that card? He never talks about my mother.

I have every right to shut you out, Aunt Sophia says. I am tired of you meddling in our lives. Would you let me raise my daughter? She's only ever been this mad when Damon wanted to take me to Fire-tribe with him. He must be pushing for something similar.

If you mean the gifts, why are those such a big deal?

I’m not talking about the gifts Damon! I’m talking about all the suggestions that do more harm than good. Let it go. I tug on my scarf, getting uncomfortable listening to them argue about me while I’m standing in front of them.

Excuse me, I say, it sounds like you're in the middle of a discussion that would be best continued if I was somewhere else. Do you want me to leave?

It's okay, Mariah, Damon says, I'm going now. He turns but stops on the porch. When I heard you got the solo parts for the Fire-tribe song in addition to the Water-tribe one, I thought wearing some Fire jewelry might add something. So, I ordered a necklace for you to wear. The vendor sent word it was ready this morning. Why don’t you pick it up?

I glance at Aunty for permission. She nods. Is the vendor set up in the festival area outside of the gates? I ask.

Here are the directions. Damon hands me a slip of paper.

Goodbye, Damon, Aunty says. He stumbles down the street. She sighs and shuts the door. I'm sorry about him.

It's okay, I say. May I ask what he wanted this time?

Aunt Sophia says, He heard some rumours about a quest at the bar this morning and he got it into his head that you should volunteer. I told him that was a ridiculous idea and it spiralled from there.

Oh. She would kill me if she knew the thought had crossed my mind too. Where did he get the idea from? I move back to the kitchen and finish unpacking the groceries.

The weapons are frequently found by people who are inter-tribal. Damon thinks that means the volunteers have to be and therefore you should step up.

I laugh and drop the bread on the counter. He gets worked up about the strangest things. I swallow hard. Oh, by the way, Terry asked me to check out the festival with him tonight. He said he already asked you and Uncle, so I figured it was okay.

Aunty smiles. Of course, dear. Do you need anything for tonight?

I shake my head. I should probably get going if I want to pick up the necklace Damon got me.

All right, but I'd prefer if you didn't wear it.

Why? It's just a costume. Why would Aunty object? It’s a necklace and it won’t hurt anyone.

I don't want to encourage Damon. He's always trying to introduce you to the other side of your fa- Aunty clamped her hand over her mouth and closed her eyes.

It sounded like she was going to say ‘family’. Who could Damon be trying to introduce me to? I scan through the possibilities and land on the same subject that has been occupying my thoughts all day: my mother.  Damon's trying to introduce me to my mother. She's here.

Okay, Aunty, I say, clasping my hands to hide the trembling. I still need some sort of Fire-tribe piece for this evening though.

Aunty nods. There'll be a few vendors set up on the grounds. Stay away from the one Damon asked you to go to.

I nod, grabbing my bag. Bye, Aunty, I say. I'll be back in a bit. My stomach is churning, but I want to visit the stall Damon ordered from. No, I need to as ridiculous as it might be. I'm going to meet my mother. With a glance down the street, I set off for the market.

I STAND TREMBLING OUTSIDE my mother's stall. The walk from home took forever. Now, I'm sweating buckets from a combination of nerves and the summer heat. Will my mother recognize me? Will she want to know me? What if she turns me away?

I scrunch up Damon's directions, trying to control my shaking. I need to meet her, just to know what she looks like. Do I resemble her? What if she doesn't want to talk and Damon did what he always does and sent me on a wild goose chase. Maybe I’m wrong and the person inside is just a random jewelry maker Damon knows.

Standing on the road, I consider my options. I could go down the street, pick up a different necklace, go home and live my life like nothing happened. Or, I can go in.

Neither option is ideal. I need to meet my mother at least once in my life and I might never get this chance again. My stomach churns. What will Aunty say if she ever finds out? What will everyone else think? Could I live with their judgement? Would I even be able to live the life I want?

People file past me, shoving and shouting. I need to make a decision before I get trampled. Taking a deep breath, I push aside the curtain separating the stall and the street. 

Inside, it’s smaller than I expected and it reeks of smoke. Display cases full of sparkling jewelry dominate the sides and a low counter faces me. A boy about my age emerges from behind the back curtain. He's lean and strikingly angular, but still strong. Streaks of brown peak through his black hair and I finger a loose lock poking out of my scarf. It's the same shading. The knife the boy is wearing looks like a standard hunting knife. What's a hunter doing in a jewelry shop?

Can I help you? he asks.

Um, yes, I say. I’m looking for Shahira uzn Dima? This is her shop, right?

It is, the boy says. My name is Khalil. I'm Shahira’s son. She’s in the back, but she's busy right now. She won't be done for a while, but can I help you? My heart stops. Is he my brother? Do I have other siblings?

My uncle ordered a necklace and asked me to pick it up, I say, rummaging through my bag for the slip. Here's the order. I hand it to him and make an effort to meet his eyes. His face freezes for a second. A look of confused recognition crosses his face before his eyes widen. 

Thanks, Khalil says, taking the slip from my hands. His finger brushes mine and a spark passes between us. He's my brother and he knows it. Through some miracle, we both know.

Is this your first time in Oshróúžt? I ask, tapping my foot on the ground.

Yeah, he says from beneath the counter. Khalil stands up, frowning. I can't find your necklace. Mom must have it in the back. I'll go check with her. I nod.

Khal, a little girl says, bursting through the curtain. I'm bored. Will you play with me?

Maybe later, Khalil says, picking up the girl. I need to help a customer right now. Why don't you stay here and talk to her?

Okay, Khal, she says, squirming out of his arms. She grins at me and crawls onto the counter. Khalil shakes his head, disappearing into the back room.

Hi, I say. My name is Mariah. What’s your name? Her eyes are the same colour as Khalil’s, but her hair is darker. Is she his younger sister?

I’m Zahra, she says. There's a lot of trees here. Are there always a lot of trees? Why is the lake so big? I smile at all her questions. She sounds like I did when I was young.

Yes, there are always lots of trees, I say, but I don't know why the lake is big. How old are you Zahra?

I'm eight, she says, puffing up her chest.

Wow, I say, scanning her face for similarities or familiar traits. You're big for an eight year old, aren't you?

She nods, beaming. Mommy says I'll be able to walk to school all by myself soon. Are you in school? What's taking Khalil so long? Shadows flicker across the curtain.

Khalil, a woman says from inside before lowering her voice. Shahira. She doesn't sound happy.

That's my mommy, Zahra says. She makes pretty jewelry. What do you do?

I'm a musician, I say. What's going on back there? Am I wrong? Maybe Damon just ordered me a necklace from a good jeweller and I freaked out some poor boy for nothing.

Ooh, cool. What do you play?

Cello. What do you want to do? I should write a note and leave before I embarrass myself any more. Why does Damon have to do this? He always rushes