The Flickers dropped their books and papers as Sami heard a powerful thought-voice, coming from someplace deeper than the bones of her head, booming out the words I arise.
“That,” Dorsom said, “is just exactly who we need.”
Natala grabbed her hand and Dorsom unlocked a small door in the back that opened onto a little stoop, then wooden boards. The three left the shop and went out to the pier. It looked almost identical to the way it looked back in Sami’s world, only these planks had a faintly violet hue. The boards extended far out over phosphorescent water, which looked semisolid close up, like a pudding or jelly. The end of the pier was crowded and streams of Flickers brushed past Sami’s group, hurrying and chattering as if they were late to an important event. The men wore wrappings and scarves around their heads and necks and billowing floor-length jackets. The women were in floor-length garments that sparkled with red and purple embroidery. Some of the Flickers were deep green; others were hues of apricot and coral. Many had long, ropy hair, filled with braids, glass beads, and strings of coins. They held babies with smudged eyes, and talked and looked around anxiously, the men fingering strings of prayer beads—just a few of them seeming to note Sami with any curiosity.
“I think some of them know what I am,” Sami murmured to Dorsom.
“It’s more they sense what you’re not,” Dorsom whispered back. “Besides, they’re too excited about the Director’s appearance to pay attention.” When Sami continued to scan the scene anxiously, he added, “Silverworld is more loving of newness and difference than is your Actual World. Here, Flickers enjoy it.”
Sami also thought she detected several Shadows slithering among and through the Flickers. They seemed not quite three-dimensional—a bit like flattened misty-gray people. She felt chills run up her back and instinctively moved closer to her friends. “They’re out here? Just on the loose?”
“These are not soldiers,” Natala said quietly. “You must remember—Shadows are a natural phylum too. We coexist with them in peace…for the most part.”
Dorsom checked the crowd. “It’s the fringe group to watch—those that Nixie has claimed and trained for her purposes. We have a saying in Silverworld, Sami: ‘The few don’t stand for the whole.’ There are many good and productive Shadows—there are even Shadow rebalancers.”
Even after their reassurances, though, Sami still felt anxious and uncomfortable, knowing such creatures were so near and all around. She squinted, her eyes darting, but it was so dazzling by the water it was hard to see much. There were hardly any clouds in the sky and the palm trees on the beach wafted back and forth like they were trying to erase something. Sami silently worried and wondered about how she would ever get back home.
All at once, there was a commotion at the end of the pier. About two hundred Flickers began to shout and point and call out. And that’s when she saw it.
The water sizzled and seethed, and a vast pink shadow moved like a wing under the water. The wind surged, forming whitecaps on the waves. Clouds filled the sky and the wind boiled, rocking the trees and grass. There was a deep roar and whipcrack, then a rumble that Sami felt all the way inside her bones.
Just as swiftly, the clouds rolled back and the howling wind died down. The water swirled, turned pink, and a gelatinous dome broke the surface. Sami watched the enormous thing rise: a translucent body, drifting tentacles, quills, hairlike spikes and fringes that swirled in the water and continued down into the depths. Inside its body a constellation of colors blinked and glowed with mysterious incandescence.
It floated in midair for a few seconds, big as a house, tentacles dangling in the water. Finally, sighing powerfully, the thing settled on the ocean surface, breaking the water into waves.
The Flickers began crying out and waving frantically, trying to get in front of each other. Sami heard “Rotifer” called over and over: O, Greatness! O, Director!
Sami felt a kind of hush fall over her in the presence of this thing, which was somehow powerfully ugly and beautiful at the same time. Its milky-clear tentacles swirled and sparkled and its body flashed. It didn’t seem to have eyes or ears in its domed head, but she could make out a furious activity of shapes whirring through the pinkness, as if its thoughts took form as they came into being. “But—it’s an actual rotifer?” Sami gawked. “We studied them in science—they’re tiny. They’re practically amoebas!”
“In your World,” Natala gently chided.
“Rotifer is the oldest creature in Silverworld, born even before the realm of the Giants. It was there at the start,” Dorsom said. “It founded the School of Rebalancers, orders of mystics and of alchemists, among many other guilds and societies.”
“Between Flickers and Shadows, Rotifer is a species of in-betweens—part Flicker and part Shadow—shape-shifters, very powerful, called the Ifrit,” Natala added. “Once a cycle, at sun-wane, the Director rises from its home waters to accept one question or request. For centuries, light beings have come to the pier to ask for guidance and favors.” Natala’s long hair lifted in the warm breeze.
“Just one question?” Sami’s stomach fell in dismay. The pier was filled with Flickers. Hundreds more were arriving from every direction. All of them clamoring, calling to the great creature, many throwing roses, tulips, or lilies. The din was powerful—especially the thousands of thoughts, which Sami felt shouting, throbbing in her temples.
Natala slipped an arm around her waist. “Are you all right?” Her purple eyes glimmered with concern.
“This will never work.” Sami gestured around in despair. “One question? I could come out here every day for a hundred years and never get to ask.”
“In the past, it was much easier to gain an audience,” Dorsom admitted. “Rare to find more than one Flicker waiting to consult with the Director. These days, they come in crowds, begging for help with their missing ones.”
“But if ever we’re getting you back to your people—this is it,” Natala said. “Rotifer alone knows all the ways and paths between the Worlds.”
Sami felt her chest tighten and her eyes grow hot. She stared at the masses of Flickers, squeezing in all around them. Then it’s hopeless, she thought.
No, Dorsom thought back at her. She was barely able to perceive his thought against the background of Flicker thought-noise. No, he repeated. Reach into yourself, for what you most want. You must have faith.
It sounded just like something her teta would say. Sami took a breath, then frowned and mashed away her tears with the back of her hand. She trained her eyes on the great pink mass, half sitting in the water, half drifting. She released that breath and thought: Oh, Rotifer, I just want to go home. Please, won’t you please help me?
Rotifer lifted a tentacle and pointed to someone else in the crowd. As the lucky one was chosen, a small cheer went up, as well as a number of sighs and protests. Then the Flickers nodded to each other, collected their things, and began to walk up the pier, back in the direction from which they’d come.
“Ah, already the Director has chosen,” Natala said quietly.
Sami’s shoulders sank in despair and Dorsom patted her softly on the back. She began to walk toward shore with the others. But before she’d even gotten halfway, Sami slowed down. She stopped. The crowd bumped and jostled around her, talking. The air was sparkling clear and bright and she shielded her eyes, trying to take it all in.
Sami started thinking. Wondering. Was there any possibility that she had come—or been brought—to Silverworld for an actual reason? It was all so weird and had happened so suddenly that it had felt like a mistake. But hadn’t Teta’s spell book opened to just that page and taken her right to just this place? Through all her shock and confusion, she’d never really considered this possibility.
She rubbed her arms, feeling a chill as the thought occurred to her: What if I’m not supposed to go home yet?
At just that moment, Sami sensed something happening—it felt like a gate opening within her body, a channel between herself and the amazing swirling creature. And a wisp of a voice had murmured, clearly audible beneath all the other thoughts: Come here.