"Tiger Eye: Chapter 1" by Adrian H. Wood

TIGER EYE






“The tiger eye is a wonderful stone to look at. Hold and move it, watching the shifting patterns of light and you may come to appreciate the message of tiger eye: that the physical plane has been designed as a playground where our spirits can materialize our dreams easily and joyfully as a cat changes the appearance of its eyes.”

Gyun Shen Wisdom
Book of Gems

One:
Treachery of the Sea



          He would find one, he knew it. Kintaru crashed out of the undergrowth to greet the soft touch of sand under his bare feet. He carefully brushed little bits of leaf and twig from his thick, raven hair, staring back through the ominous grove of shadowy palms, scrubs and bushes one last time. He cupped his hands behind his neck and steadied his breathing. Two hours until the markets opened. He would find one today, a large one, round and perfect. He’d make his riches off the precious thing; buy his family decent food, himself some new clothes, perhaps a new hunting knife. A thin smile passed his lips. There weren’t many better days for pearl-diving.
          As he turned and passed his gaze along the shoreline, Kintaru soaked in the night’s splendid scarlet retreat as the tip of the rising sun glazed the crests of the shallow waves in radiant flashes of fiery light. The faint outlines of the two moons were still just about visible on the horizon, hidden behind whisks of mauve cloud. The lazy movement of the water was soothing, the gentle ocean breeze pleasantly fresh, prickling the skin of his naked, dark tanned torso. There was something mysterious about the sea that caressed and nurtured a whole plethora of emotions every time he looked at it. Perhaps it was the sheer vastness of it that was so overwhelming, maybe the immeasurable beauty as it broke on the shore like a sleek stream of glittering diamonds.
          Storing the thought for later consideration, Kintaru paced the width of the beach with a grin and scampered onto the jagged rocks that protruded out into the open sea. He maneuvered down the spit with learned agility, careful to avoid the red carpet of tiny sleeping Lightfoot crabs and the sharp edges of the barnacle-encrusted mussels. From boulder to boulder he jumped and slid, until he finally reached the end, the vast expanse of brilliantly painted coral reef lying stretched out beneath the ocean’s surface in front of him. He wrapped his fingers around the carved bone handle of his old, rusty knife and pulled the instrument from the gnarled leather sheath around his waist, sticking the blade between his teeth. He straightened himself, tensing his muscles and arching his back, ready for the jump. He closed his eyes, one last deep breath. Today was the day; he was sure of it.
          A rush of icy adrenaline rippled though his body as his skin connected with the touch of cool water. He dived into the clear azure smoothly, stirring twirls of little white bubbles as he cut through the liquid. His eyes sprang open again and, blurry as his sight was, the spectacular myriad of colors and shapes overwhelmed him as always. Like a rainbow bazaar the bright green kelp seaweeds, the wavy crimson tentacles of laver, the floating and bubbling sacks of noxious yellow furbelow and the pink and cream translucent billows of sponge tissue, sea slug and urchin billowed and swayed with the currents magically. In between them slithered little orange clown fish, pockets of murky purple squids and entire schools of multihued, dappled and flecked flatfish. Hermit crabs clambered from their crusty shells on the sandy floor, while pipefish and sea-scorpions that only the trained eye could see hid in the vegetation, passively eyeing the underwater activity around them. Everything was so vivid, so alive, so beautiful. Yet so deadly.
          Kintaru’s arm nearly touched the jagged, rock-like skin of a stonefish as he swam passed the ugly creature and thrust away impulsively. Slyly concealed amidst the coral the creature could spring its fatal trap on any unwary prey that came in contact with it by extracting its sharp, poisonous spines. He cringed at the foul thing as he contemplated the villager whose leg had to be cut off to stop the fish’s poison spreading and killing him. He remembered the sight all too clearly. Kintaru was suddenly more aware of the faint outlines of venomous cobalt blue clingfish and slimy water snakes slithering menacingly through the reeds in places, chasing their daily feeding. In the far murky distance, a single stray hammerhead shark made his lonely rounds in the warmer waters, proud and arrogant and dangerous. Kintaru slowed his pace slightly. He knew the creatures of the sea well and, above all else, how to respect them.
          Gliding cautiously several feet above the bed of flora, he concentrated on scanning the ground for the precious prize he had come to seek. He took the knife from his teeth and held it tightly in one hand, it was the only tool he had. No expensive nets, no hooks, no other gear like some of the other divers and fishers; but then again, he was the only one who dared to dive down this end of the island. Not that he had much choice. He had to hold his own against the other pearl traders somehow and these waters were legendary for the prized gems they bore.
          The villagers feared the reef and the many dangers it housed, but Kintaru no longer shared their fright. Once a week for the past two years since his coming of age at thirteen, when the island’s markets opened to the foreign traders with their large ships and heavy wallets, he would challenge fate and help feed his family with such perilous expeditions. He much preferred it to his daily work in the fish markets in any case, his love for the sea eclipsed all else. Besides, with a bit of luck and a few decently sized and shaped pearls, he could make several days’ wages in one single morning. With a big, perfect example, the type he prayed and searched for day in and day out, he could probably earn around twenty times that. Enough for his family to forget their poverty for a good while, yet more importantly, enough for him to eternalize himself as the island’s finest diver.
          Kintaru carefully prodded at select oyster shells. He had learned to tell the contents of one of the deceitfully ugly cases by the sound the tip of his knife made. A clear ring for an empty shell, a dull thud for a pregnant one. Kintaru picked up a handful of promising oysters before his lungs started tingling, and shot back up to the surface. Clambering back onto the wet rocks he laid the shells in a crack, prying them open eagerly. He tossed three disfigured examples back into the ocean, one small pearl and one medium-sized, badly shaped one he stuffed into the whale-bladder pouch dangling from his twine belt, before diving back into the deep blue. He repeated the process over and over, until his small sack was near full with a good day’s harvest, now readying for one single last dive.
          This time Kintaru swam around to the other side of the spit, gliding along the far edges of the reef. The ocean was much deeper on this end, dropping off steeply into pits of rock veined with cave-like crevices. He maneuvered along the burly boulders, brushing through thick tangles of seaweed. A cluster of oysters caught his eyes and he swirled around, scaring off a shoal of shannys. He tapped the small shells’ facade, only to stick his knife between his teeth once more with a frown. Perhaps not today after all. Kintaru braced himself to return to the spit, yet just when he was about to dive back up to the surface, something sent a cold shudder down his spine. He turned his head warily, staring down into one of the rock fissures far bellow. And froze.
          He found himself staring right at the two largest and most perfect pearls he had ever seen in his life; beautiful, large and round. Except these pearls were no gems, but a pair of wicked eyes. Kintaru’s heart paced madly. He stared into the large, oyster spheres, stained with flashes and swirls of steely malice. He could feel his legs cramping up, his body stiffening. Time seemed to freeze solid, only to be shattered into a million shards in the very next moment. The eyes lunged.
          With a sudden burst an enormous sea dragon sprang from its dark hiding place, tearing its jaws apart. The snake-like ship-long beast released a deafening wail that sent sea creatures darting in all directions and Kintaru’s heart racing even faster. The water itself seemed to erupt in a gurgling inferno, pulling, quaking, tearing. The dragon whipped its smooth, long tale and flared its nostrils, rows of sharp teeth glistening like polished ivory. Awestruck, Kintaru barely managed to react in the last instant, thrusting his legs with all the power he could muster and shooting away from the dragon’s snapping jaws. He bounced off the top of the creature’s hard head painfully and rolled down its long neck, intuitively grabbing hold of one of the delicate fins that traveled down the scaly spine.
          The dragon twisted and turned, barreling through the gushing waters with incredible speed. It clawed at the liquid with its short limbs and screeched unbearably. Kintaru’s fingers cramped up as his face set in a tortured grimace, but he clung on tight for dear life. An excruciating pain shot up his arms that numbed his whole body, and his lungs were beginning to burn like fire, he couldn’t endure this much longer. In an act of sheer desperation he yanked the knife out from his clenched teeth with his strong hand, lunging forwards in a battle against the whipping streams as the dragon wheeled once more, and grabbing hold of the creature’s eye ridge with the other. With resolve he sank the rough metal into the soft texture of the dragon’s jet eyes and was whirled away in a wild tumble of silky black blood and frenzied howling.
          Everything spun and shook. With no sense of direction or orientation Kintaru thrashed his arms and legs about madly, desperate for air now. He could feel his body consuming him from the inside, as the azure ocean slowly turned into a misty, gray grave before his bloodshot eyes. But mere moment from losing consciousness, the tip of his fingers found the chill touch of wind, and he burst upwards. Kintaru gasped as his head finally lifted above the water’s surface, his mouth drawing in so much air at once that his heart threatened to burst from the strain. He panted hard and dizzied, the glowing skies revolving around him in a carousel of hazy shapes. Kintaru closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. In and out, in and out, slowly.
          He floated for a while, his mind in violent disarray, until he had composed himself well enough to risk opening his lids again. A viscous, dark pool had gathered around his trembling torso. Shuddering, he stared back down into the filmy cerulean depth. The dragon had vanished, yet still sat like a creeping ghostly presence in the back of his neck. He looked up, squinting, and tried to make out the shoreline, finding he had been carried out much farther to sea than he had anticipated or hoped. The outline of the jungle canopy was faint on the horizon. Sulking, and still weak all over, he started swimming as quickly as his battered body could cope with. He was still in grave danger this far out. He struggled against the heavy water; each mechanical lift of his arms a new battle.
          An eternity of agony seemed to pass until Kintaru finally hauled himself onto dry land, collapsing headfirst in the sand and coughing up muddied water. He rolled over onto his back, letting the now full white sun warm his trembling body. Never again. That was the only thought circling in his mind. Never again would he go pearl-diving. He tried to swallow the notion just as quickly as it appeared though, collecting himself and emptying his head. With some effort he stood up, gazing down at himself. The sack of pearls was still firmly tied onto his belt, but his sheath was empty. He had lost his knife. Surely his uncle would beat him for it, but what did it matter right now? He was alive and he thanked the heavens for it.
          Kintaru stumbled back across the beach and ran from the treacherous ocean back into the protective thicket of the jungle.