The following days were difficult for Adam. He had already paid a week’s rent so he had to persevere in trying to sell his paintings. Even though he dropped the price to three copper pieces, there was still a distinct lack of interest in his work. By week’s end he had made only two sales. The first was a woman who bought one because she thought it had been painted by one of Adam’s younger brothers or sisters. He hadn’t corrected her error.
The other customer was Kara. She had purchased one to hang in her room. Adam was surprised when she said she wanted to buy it. He offered to give it to her.
‘You and your father have already done so much for me,’ he said, embarrassed. ‘I can’t accept money for it.’
‘Business is business,’ Kara said pointedly. ‘That’s what my father always says.’
The picture she picked was of a forest glade near Adam’s home. He and his parents would sometimes go there to eat meals.
Finishing his last day at the market, Adam went to see the painter who sold his work on the other side. The man recognised him almost immediately.
‘Ah,’ he said. ‘It is the young artist.’
Adam blushed. ‘I’m not an artist at all,’ he said. ‘I tried to copy what you do—and failed.’
‘My mother used to say I was born with a brush in my hand,’ the man said. ‘Some of us possess this skill and others do not. Some can acquire it, but it takes much practise and a determination to succeed.’
The man’s words made Adam think about what he would do next. Returning home, he told Fontus and Kara of his plans.
‘I will make sculptures,’ he said. ‘I have been doing it since I was a child, and no one else at the market is doing this.’
‘Good boy,’ Fontus said. ‘You have identified a niche in the market.’
Adam still had the tools given to him by his father, plus the carvings recovered from the ruins of his house by Fontus. He would not sell them—even if his life depended on it.
I need to find tapis stone, he thought. It’s easy to carve and gives a good result.
He quickly reached an obstacle, though. Despite scouring the streets and market, he was unable to find a single supplier of the stone throughout Prosperity. Even Fontus and Kara had never seen it before. There had been a plentiful supply of it near his home, but Fontus insisted he not return there.
‘You will probably not survive the journey,’ he cautioned.
Adam turned his attention to the docks, asking the men unloading from the ships if they were familiar with the stone. The answer was always no—until he met with a particularly grizzled fisherman by the name of Isaac.
‘I’ve seen it,’ he said. ‘There’s a lot of it on Katana.’
‘Katana? Where’s that?’
‘It’s an island about twenty miles off the coast. Only about a hundred people live there. It’s a wild and rough place. The wind always blows and the waves are enormous. A reef surrounds it on three sides. The only safe entry is through the harbour on the west.’
‘If it’s so rough why do people live there?’
‘Why do people live anywhere?’ Isaac asked. He peered at Adam curiously. ‘Why are you interested in the stone?’
Adam explained his plans.
‘Do you think there’s a market for such a thing?’ Isaac asked.
Adam had felt confident about his paintings, but they had proven to be a failure. This time he had made up his mind to be more cautious.
‘I think there is,’ he said. ‘I can only try.’
Adam arranged to travel to the island the next day. The cost would be ten coppers.
My money is going fast, Adam thought. But I must take the risk.
At dinner that night he told Fontus of his decision, and the old man offered to accompany him to the island.
‘Are you sure you can spare the time?’ Adam asked.
Kara, passing by the room, leaned in. ‘Probably not,’ she said. ‘But he has a capable daughter who can run the business in his absence.’
The next morning they arrived at the dock to find Isaac waiting, his small boat readied for departure. Adam examined the vessel critically. Thirty-feet long, it had a small sail and a cabin beneath. It was weathered and the paint had long since peeled away.
Adam’s eyes turned to the sea. It seemed like a tiny boat for so much water.
Fontus recognised Isaac as they shook hands.
‘It’s been a long time,’ Fontus said.
‘Too long. I get the impression you don’t like the sea.’
‘I like it fine—as long as I’m near it rather than on it!’
Adam was feeling the same. The last time he had been on a boat was when his parents had moved to their home in the forest—and he barely remembered the journey.
Isaac peered at him. ‘You’re not afraid,’ he asked. ‘Are you?’
‘No, not at all.’
Truth be told, Adam was afraid. Even though his parents had taught him to swim in the river, the thought of swimming in the ocean filled him with dread. Regardless, he and Fontus followed Isaac onto the boat. The old fisherman released the mooring lines and soon it was making good headway out of the harbour.
Adam looked back at the city. It still looked enormous. From here, the largest structure rising from it was the King’s palace located at the heart of the city.
Water sprayed over the bow of the small ship. Isaac turned back to him, smiling a toothless grin.
‘A grand day to be on the water!’ he cried, clearly in his element.
‘Oh, yes. Sure.’
Fontus turned to Adam quietly. ‘Have you been to sea before?’ he asked.
‘Not for ages.’ His stomach was feeling a bit queasy. ‘Do you think this will take long?’
‘The breeze is with us,’ Fontus said. ‘It shouldn’t take too long.’ He peered closely at Adam. ‘Focus on the horizon if your stomach is going south.’
Adam took his advice and immediately began to feel a little better. The wind and the sea spray swept against his face, and he took deep breaths. Soon he caught sight of a landmass on the horizon. Isaac steered the small boat towards it and within the hour they were rounding Katana for a small harbour on the west side.
Adam’s legs were wobbling as they disembarked onto an old jetty. Seagulls wheeled overhead, carried by the wind. Isaac pointed them towards a path, explaining that it would take them across the island and to the small settlement on the other side.
The narrow trail wound through low lying scrub. After several minutes of walking, Fontus pointed to an outcrop of rock.
‘Is that what you’re searching for?’ he asked.
They scrambled through the undergrowth towards the rock face. Adam produced a hammer and chipped away a piece of the rock.
The stone was identical to tapis stone, but it was too hard to carve.
‘This is the wrong stone,’ Adam said. ‘It would take years to cut this.’
Fontus saw the disappointment on his face. Gripping his shoulder, he gave a gentle smile.
‘Take heart, my young friend,’ he said. ‘A stumble is still a step in the right direction.’
Lesson 6: A stumble is still a step in the right direction.