Chapter 9 Sunsets and Sandcastles #2
Right. “So I just have to find the key in each land to get to the next? That doesn’t seem so hard,” I venture.
The Archivist laughs. And laughs and laughs, a sputtering sound, as the map begins to curl in quickly, like a tongue, jostling all the teacups before it races into its original scroll.
She pushes the rolled-up map back into the wall of sand until it disappears entirely, leaving only the shell again.
“A single key, in lands made up of thousands of objects! It will be nearly impossible to find it! You won’t even know what you’re looking for!”
Oh.
That dark tide of hopelessness rushes in again, the same shade of despair I’ve been living in ever since I was declared Fateless.
This time, though, I rise above it.
The Fates didn’t see me worthy of receiving a role. If I’m going to prove them wrong, I need to be strong.
“Maybe these can help,” I say, lifting the necklaces up again.
The Archivist stops laughing. She tilts her head. “Interesting theory… keys being drawn to other keys… perhaps made by the very same magic… fascinating.” After a moment, she finally nods and says, “Perhaps you’re onto something.”
I give the Archivist a hard look. She’s shifty like these sands… saying something is impossible, then changing her mind. It’s a little infuriating, but also, maybe it means anything can be questioned. Impossible things can become possible, with just a few changes…
The Fates’ decisions can become un-final. Maybe they can even admit they made a mistake.
The Archivist pushes back from the table and says, “Whenever I’m stuck, I find a walk on the beach helps. Go on, then!” She motions us toward the drawbridge.
“Thank you,” I say. Ken was right. She did help. The woman gives me a wave and a wink before retreating back into her person-size sandcastle.
A little while later, Ken and I are walking along the shore, and Sandy is unhappily prancing beside us, scowling at the sand. I’m not entirely sure what the point of this walk is, but the view is breathtaking, just a blue stretch of ocean as far as the eye can see, the sun reflecting off the waves.
“So. What’s your life like here?” I ask, looking around, if only to distract myself by the fact that we have been walking for half an hour with little result.
This place couldn’t look more different from Heartland. For one, I barely see any structures. The horizon is clear. I’m sure there are houses and buildings somewhere, but it seems like they all must be pretty far from the coast, and all far from one another.
For another, there are fields of grass, and flowers, and of course, beaches. This land is so much more vast and wild than the one I came from.
“Life’s amazing,” Ken says, his entire face lighting up with his smile. “I wake up with the sunrise, take a swim in the ocean, wander through the fields, catch up with Sandy, ride her through the flowers, then maybe take a visit to the salt flats.”
I’ve never even heard of salt flats. None of the books I’ve read ever mentioned them. I find myself wanting to see them… to see more of this place, even when I should be focused on how to find the key.
Ken shrugs and extends his arms wide, throwing his head back. “Every day is different, but one thing’s the same. I’m always outside, beneath the sun.” He turns to me. “How about where you come from?”
I frown, realizing it seems like we live polar opposite existences. “Well, up until a few days ago, I would get up. Get ready for classes. Have breakfast in an office. Go to different classrooms. Stay in to study.”
“What did you study?”
I look at him, surprised, realizing he never mentioned school as part of his daily routine. “Well, I mean… a bit of everything. English, history, math… some other stuff.”
His eyes narrow. “Okay, so you would study, and then what?”
I lift a shoulder. “Wake up and do it all over again?”
It’s Ken’s turn to frown. He shakes his head. “You mean… you never left your school? You didn’t go… outside?”
I chew the inside of my mouth. “Sometimes, at night, after classes are done, to watch fireworks. But yeah, if I had a lot of studying to do, sometimes I wouldn’t leave for weeks at a time.”
“Weeks?!” he exclaims.
I give a shaky smile.
“How did you get any sunlight?”
“Through… windows?”
That seems to horrify him. “That can’t be healthy.” He shakes his head, mumbling to himself. “No beach… no sun…” He shudders.
“It’s the only life I’ve ever known.” I don’t tell him that the sunlight itself in Heartland isn’t nearly as vibrant or strong as the blazing warmth I felt earlier today. I wonder if it’s the border mists preventing us from feeling the full power of the sun’s rays.
“I’m glad you left,” Ken declares.
My eyebrows draw together. “I didn’t leave, I—” Before I can tell him that I plan to go back, that this entire journey is so that I can return to Heartland with a purpose, he’s distracted by something behind me.
“Look! A sunset. I love sunsets,” Ken says.
I look too, my breath suddenly caught in my throat. Pink. The sky has gone pink and red and yellow, and every shade in between. Just like the flowers.
My lips part. Every sunset I’ve seen pales in comparison with this.
Ken tilts his head at my reaction. “They don’t have sunsets in your world, either?” he asks, now looking positively horrified.
“Not really,” I say. “Not like this.”
Ken stops dead. He blinks too many times, as if I’ve just told him I come from an underground dungeon. To him, I suppose, that’s what my land must sound like. “Barbie, sunsets are as essential to life as water and air.”
I frown. “Yeah, I don’t think—”
He lifts a hand. “Trust me on this. Sunsets are like medicine. They force you to stay still awhile. Admire the world. Remember you’re here, you’re alive, and the world is so beautiful.”
Remember you’re alive.
Strange. I am alive. But I don’t think I’ve done much living.
It feels like I’ve lived more today than I have in the past seventeen years of my life.
“Here. Like this,” Ken says, kicking off his boots. He sinks his feet into the sand and sighs. “Try it.”
I think about the first inclination I had when I saw the beach. Wanting to not just see it, but feel it.
I carefully take off my boots. My toes sink into the sand and peace washes over me, just like the waves foaming along my skin and brushing against my ankles.
And as day melts into night and I take in a big breath of salty air, I think—this.
This quiet moment is not for any purpose. It’s time I would normally think is wasted. Every minute has always been a chance to study more, to be better, to prove myself to Robin.
But… this isn’t worthless. It feels good to just stand still for a while.
We watch in companionable silence, until the sun is completely gone and the stars break through the darkness. The moon is a hanging crescent.
And in this darkness… it’s easy to see a shell in the near distance, glowing just beneath the sand. My necklaces are emitting the same soft hue. Ken and I look at each other and grin, then both rush toward it.
I dig it out, carefully, and a wave washes it clean.
The key.
“Thank you,” I tell Ken.
He tips his hat at me. “Don’t forget to watch sunsets, Barbie, every chance you get. Wherever you are.”
I nod, and for some reason… for some reason, my eyes sting.
Then Sandy kicks up sand in my face, and they really sting.
I grip the shell and envision the land I saw on the map, the one with the question mark. The place that I hope will bring me one step closer to finding answers.
As I picture it, trying to imagine what that symbol could possibly mean, bright pink begins to pour through my fingers.
“Ken, thank—”
Before I can finish my sentence, the sand begins to whirl around me, and I’m rushing forward in a beam of sparkling light.