Islands of Fire Read online

  “Who put these down?” Kina asks. She notices Nakali taking a keen interest in them, as well.

  Hekalo shrugs. “Who knows?”

  Kina is thinking of another set of stairs a hundred miles away or more, in the lonely, windswept pinnacles of Lohoke`a. Nakali shoots her a glance, and Kina is sure the high priestess is thinking the same thing.

  The stairs make the ascent much easier. A dirt path on a slope of this angle would be perilous and slow-going. As it is, the stairs tax their endurance and force them to stop occasionally to rest and catch their breath.

  Some ways up, they pass a small stream spilling down over some stones. They stop and drink. A passing cloud provides some shade. From here, they can see far out to sea. The ocean appears flat and placid from this height—what would be huge curlers breaking on the reef like peals of thunder appear from here as nothing more than calm white lines advancing slowly across a quiet sea.

  “What is that?” Nakali asks.

  Kina follows her gaze back down the long staircase. Far at the bottom, so small they are difficult to see, Kina spots a group of warriors stealthily emerging from the treeline and heading up the stairs.

  “It’s Kuanatuku,” she cries. “He’s figured out where we’re going!”

  “We must get going,” Hekalo says.

  The three of them stand up from where they had been sitting on the steps. A strong wind whips at their hair.

  They start up the steps, taking them faster than before. Kina repeatedly looks behind her as they go. It doesn’t seem like the warriors are catching up, though they seem to be moving as fast.

  Up here, the trees are growing more scarce. They are replaced by hillocks of stone and blowing grasses. Kina can see some old carvings in some of the stones—leering faces sticking out their tongues, strange petroglyphs, patterns of holes and swirls. The markings look as old as the stairs, maybe even older.

  While passing a cluster of the old stones, Kina pauses. The others rush on several more steps before realizing their companion has stopped.

  “What are you doing? Hurry!” Hekalo says.

  “Wait,” Kina replies. “I think I have an idea.”

  She climbs over the low stone coping on one side of the stairs and scrambles through the weeds to one of the boulders. It is big, but it seems like it might be loose enough.

  “Help me!” she shouts. Stepping to the far side, she leans into the boulder.

  The others see what she is doing and run over to help her. The rock budges when all three of them put their weight into it. Gravel and soil rush away as the stone shifts in its centuries-old cradle.

  Kina grunts, “Keep going!”

  The boulder teeters and then rolls onto its top. The glaring eyes of some old carved devil on the stone look out on the world from a new angle.

  It takes several more minutes of pushing to get the boulder over to the stairs and then onto the coping. Looking down, Kina can see the warriors have cleared the distance and are only a minute away.

  “Hide!” she says, and the three of them duck down.

  Only the wind meets their ears at first, and then Kina can hear the soft footfalls of the warriors growing ever closer.

  She screams, “Now!” and stands, throwing her weight into the stone. The others do the same, and it scrapes loudly across the coping and then topples. It cracks the old flagstones as it thunders down the steps.

  Kina hears screams, then the boulder is among the warriors. Some of them have ducked to the side, but it catches three of them who didn’t have time to get out of the way. They are knocked back by the rampaging stone, bodies battered, crushed, thrown.

  When the boulder has finally passed the surviving warriors continue up the steps. There are only four of them, now, and they visibly seethe with rage.

  “Run,” Hekalo says. Kina and Nakali need no prodding. They follow him as he continues up the stairs, the warriors only a short distance behind.

  For what seems to Kina an eternity, they continue up the stairs. The top is now in sight, and Kina thinks it is the only thing that keeps them from giving up this exhausting climb and turning to face their pursuers, for better or for worse. She is relieved when they stagger up the last step.

  The stairs end at a crumbling platform of stone. It is made of flagstones, also once carefully set together by human hands, though roots have pushed upward in the long years since, buckling and folding the floor in places. The three of them do their best not to trip as they run across the stone yard.

  She can tell this area is built along the shoulder of a ridge, because on the far side she can see a steep drop-off. When the grow closer, she can see the escarpment is very steep, almost a sheer cliff. There is a path that exits the clearing, also lined with stones, that sticks close to the side of the bluff rising above them.

  “Where are we going?” she asks Hekalo.

  “The trail continues this way,” he says, pointing ahead. “Someone built a stone platform on this cliff.”

  Now, she can see what is is talking about. Ahead of them, the natural path ends and is replaced by a ledge cut from the bare stone on a vertical cliff. The slope drops precipitously into a river canyon.

  Nakali and Kina stop, unsure about going further.

  Hekalo has continued, leaping gracefully across a gap in the ledge where the stone has broken away. When he realizes the two women aren’t behind him, he stops and looks back.

  “Hurry!”

  “And step onto that narrow overhang? No way,” Kina says. “There must be another way.”

  “There isn’t,” Hekalo replies, exasperated. “Just jump across. It’s safe. I’ve been up here before.”

  “It doesn’t look safe,” Kina says.

  Nakali spits. “I knew it! It’s all a trick. He’s trying to lead us to our death.”

  “If I was doing that, it would have happened a long time ago. Now, come on!”

  Kina steps up the edge and looks down. The fall would easily kill her. It is nearly a sheer drop to the rocks far below.

  “This is the only way to the God in the Stone?” she asks.

  “Yes. These ledges go some ways along this cliff face. I know they’re old, but they are safe. There are ropes to help you. You two are light; you won’t fall. Now, please, take my hand! Hurry! They’ll be here soon!”

  “Too late,” Nakali says, turning and holding out her spear toward the men who are rushing across the flagstones. “They already are.”

  The Face of God

  The warriors rush them, taiaha poised for the killing blow. Nakali waits for them to draw close, then leans back and buries the butt of her spear into a gap between the ancient flagstones, allowing one of the warriors to impale himself with his own momentum.

  Kina goes after the other two with her pahi. They swipe at her in fury, but she is able to swing the pahi low and slice through one warrior’s leg. He drops and starts writing on the ground, holding a ragged, bleeding stump.

  The last warrior manages to grab a fistful of Kina’s hair. He jerks her off balance, and she nearly drops the pahi. He tries to wrestle it from her hand. In the struggle, the ever-sharp blade of rakes Kina’s thigh and draws blood, but just when it seems the warrior is about to pry her fingers loose, he jerks back with a scream and falls away. Kina turns to see Nakali’s spear driven into his side. He trashes until the spear comes loose, but he is too wounded to continue the fight, and drops to the ground.

  “We must hurry!” Hekalo says. He is already working his way along the narrow ledge.

  Kina runs back to the top of the steps and gazes down. Far below, perhaps halfway up the stairs, is another wave of warriors. Kina counts at least a dozen.

  Nakali frowns. “What can we do?”

  “Nothing. Come on,” Kina says, and the two of them return to the ledge.

  Kina tries not to look down as she steps across the first of the cracks. The ledge was made long ago by unknown hands. It is not
much more than a flat stone shelf that protrudes from the side of the sheer cliff face. Over time it has disintegrated in places, leaving large gaps that must be stepped—or jumped—across, often accompanied by a shower of crumbling pieces. In these spots, Kina can see that the shelf is supported by not much more than great stone pegs driven into the cliff. It would be a precarious and dangerous trail under the best of circumstances, but the heavy wind and aged stones makes it downright suicidal.

  As they make their way along the cliff face, Kina is relieved to discover natural ledges dot the trail, places where the manmade shelf is given over to natural bench in the rock where hardy bushes spring up between the rocks, and small clear streams bubble out from the stones. In the first one, they find a short flight of stairs, each step carved with the same disturbing, leering faces Kina saw on the rocks earlier.

  Then they are once more on the flat, fabricated ledge. Soon, Kina sees the ropes Hekalo had mentioned. They have been tied to chiseled protrusions in the rock, and flap wildly in the high winds. From his position in the lead, Hekalo shows Kina and Nakali how to hang on to them long enough to swing across wide gaps in the ledge.

  Far below them, the river falls over cataracts or widens out into pools. Kina can’t help but wonder how many of the faithful, coming up here to pay homage to To`o, have fallen onto those boulders and been swept away, broken and nearly dead, by the rushing river.

  She is grateful to find places where lengths of wood, usually narrow logs, have been placed across the gaps, making such crossings a little easier. However, in others the ropes have decayed or snapped off, and they must resort to making harrowing leaps from one part of the ledge to the next.

  At one of the wide, natural mantels they stop and rest. More than ever Kina wishes they had food. The growl in her stomach has become a gnawing ache, a dangerous distraction from the perilous trail.

  “We need food,” she says, breaking a silence that has fallen over the three of them since beginning the climb.

  Hekalo nods. “Soon we will reach the high plateau and we should be able to hunt there.”

  They carry on, forced at one point to crawl under an enterprising bush growing full and wild from a crack in the stones. Slowly, Kina can see the river drawing closer to them, cascading over ever-higher sills and banks.

  Then, to her great relief, the ledge opens up onto a shoulder in the hillside, and once more they are in the forest. They take a few moments to catch their breath, then begin up the narrow trail that winds through the trees. Up here, the forest is wet and dripping, doused frequently by dense clouds and rain. Ferns grow thick between the tall trees and the air is noticeably cooler. Bird calls echo through the upper canopy.

  Nakali spots a stand of papaya, and they eat several of the fruit before pressing on. With her belly full, Kina feels her energy slowly returning.

  Before long, the trail leads into a wedge-shaped cut in the hillside. The passage is tight, forcing them to turn sideways to advance. Up ahead, beyond Hekalo, Kina can see the trail opening into an open space. When at last the tight cut widens once more, she can see they have come out in the ancient caldera of a volcano. Mounds of volcanic rock make for a rough passage across the wide basin.

  They pick their way down an embankment and onto the rocky ground. Now, the trail is not much more than a scuffled path meandering across the open crater.

  Nakali is looking around as they walk, and at last she says, “Something is wrong here.”

  “What do you mean?” Hekalo asks.

  “These stones are ancient. There is no heat in this ground.”

  “So?”

  “So,” Nakali says, “this is not new rock. There should be plants here. You know, growing up between the stones. It only takes a few years.”

  Kina looks around. It’s true, there are no weeds. In fact, she can see no life here at all.

  Hekalo waves it away, but Kina can see him sneaking dubious looks at the landscape from time to time.

  Then, they arrive at the middle. On a low hillock of rock, Kina can see a massive boulder, easily the size of a hut. The trail leads toward the boulder, stopping in an area just before it that has been cleared of loose stones. A huge mound of bones rests in the center of the cleared area. Some of the bones are fresh, still bearing strips of muscle, while others are old and bleached by sun. Curiously, no flies bother the remains.

  Now, Kina can see the boulder has been carved into a huge face. It bears an impassive expression, with a flat mouth, long nose, and blank eyes that are shielded by a heavy brow. Two ears protrude on either side, completing the peculiar sculpture.

  Hekalo stops and raises a hand toward the statue. “This is To`o, the God in the Stone.”

  Kina steps closer to its large face, looking over its features. The stone doesn’t match those around, made from a smoother and lighter material.

  “How did it get here?” she asks, but Hekalo replies with a shrug.

  Nakali kneels in front of the statue.

  “Great and powerful To`o, god of this island, we come humbly before you to beg of your aid. We-“

  Something about the stone changes, and Kina distinctly feels a presence coming from it, though she can see no visible difference.

  “WHO KNEELS BEFORE ME?” a low and resonant voice asks. Kina realizes the sound is coming, somehow, from the stone statue itself.

  Nakali looks suddenly unsure, and stammers as she answers. “I am Nakali, high priestess of Keli`anu.”

  “WHAT BRINGS YOU BEFORE TO`O?”

  “I have come from a far land in search of answers.”

  “BRING FORTH THE SACRIFICE.”

  “Great Lord To`o,” Nakali says, “we do not seek power, only knowledge.”

  “ALL POWER IS KNOWLEDGE. I DEMAND PROPER TRIBUTE.”

  Nakali looks at Kina, then at Hekalo, clearly plotting something. Kina sees Nakali’s fingers tighten on the haft of her spear. But before she can move, a strange rumble comes from the stone, and Kina feels To`o turn its attention toward her. “YOU SMELL OF DEATH. WHAT IS THAT YOU HOLD IN YOUR HAND?”

  Kina looks at the pahi, then back up at To`o. “It’s a weapon, taken from the Cult of the Ebon Flame. They were using it for sacrifices. It has seen a lot of blood.”

  “BRING IT CLOSER.”

  Kina steps up in front of the statue. Nakali looks up at her with a fierce expression, as though ready to drive her spear through Kina. “What are you doing?”

  Kina holds the blade flat across both her hands.

  There is another long, low rumble. “LONG HAS IT BEEN SINCE I HAVE BEHELD ONE OF THE RELICS OF KOTA`IANAPAHU. HOW CAME YOU BY THIS ANCIENT BLADE?”

  “We beg your forgiveness,” Nakali says. “We know nothing about the pahi. It is part of why we journeyed here to seek your knowledge. This was discovered several generations ago on Keli`anu in some ruins high in the forests of our land. It was inside a temple.”

  To`o says, “DID YOUR GOD NOT FORBID THIS PLACE AS KAPU?”

  Nakali says, “Tiumata made no mention of it. Our priests asked her guidance and she told us it was to be used to honor her. So our priests took in the pahi, making it part of our rites. We even changed the shape of our temple to match the one in the hills. Our priests forbade anyone but themselves to go there, and made frequent journeys to explore it. None knew its origin. Tiumata would not say. Then, this slave here, the one holding the sacred pahi, stole it from us and fled. We sought her across the ocean and finally found her cowering in some far islands. It was there we found ruins and a temple identical to the one on Keli`anu. Nearby, we also found a strange obsidian bowl of eternal fire. None of our kupuna know the meaning of this coincidence. So I have come for your wisdom.”

  “THE BLADE IS REEKING WITH DEVIL BLOOD. HAS ONE AMONG YOU USED IT TO SLAY A DEVIL?”

  Kina bows her head. With a hint of pride, she says, “I did, great To`o. The devil `Imu`imu, which plagued my deceased friend, Pupo. It was laying waste to th
e Burning Warriors’ fleet, and I drive this blade into its body and it dissolved into the sea.”

  “WHY DO YOU COME BEFORE ME?”

  “Poweful To`o,” Kina says, her head still bowed, “I, too, seek answers as to the pahi’s origin, and the meaning of the strange ruins and the burning bowl. But I also come to beg for your help in destroying the Cult of the Ebon Flame and ridding their scourge from this world.”

  Nakali hisses at her, “It will be hard to bring our downfall when your skin is stretched across one of our drums and your spirit fights at our side.”

  To`o bellows, “SILENCE. DO NOT ENTERTAIN YOUR MEANINGLESS QUARRELS IN THE PRESENCE OF TO`O.”

  Kina says, “We apologize.”

  Hekalo stiffens when To`o’s attention sweeps toward him. “AND WHY DO YOU RETURN TO MY COMPANY WITHOUT YOUR ALI`I? I SENSE THAT YOU HAVE BETRAYED HIM,” it says. “HE EVEN NOW PURSUES YOU TO THIS PLACE. AND YET YOU ALSO COME WITH QUESTIONS, DO YOU NOT?”

  “I do,” Hekalo says, dropping to one knee. “If it pleases you, Lord To`o. I humbly beg for your assistance. I need to know how to find someone.”

  “YOU YEARN FOR A WOMAN,” To`o says. “AND SHE IS DEAD.”

  Hekalo looks uncomfortable, and shoots a glance at Kina and Nakali. “Yes, great To`o. I have heard you know a way to bring someone back from the Lands Beyond.”

  Nakali scoffs. “There is no way for a mortal to reach the Lands Beyond, short of death. Not even a god can travel there.”

  “YOU SPEAK QUICKLY AND WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE,” To`o says. “WHAT MORTAL CAN PRESUME TO KNOW WHAT THE GODS MAY OR MAY NOT DO?”

  Nakali blushes. “Great To`o, I beg your forgiveness.”

  To`o says, “YOUR SPIRIT IS FULL OF FIRE AND YOUR HEART FULL OF ANGER. ONE WITH SUCH A DISPOSITION IS NOT LONG FOR THIS WORLD. YOUR COMPANIONS ARE BRASH AND EAGER TO EMBRACE DEATH. EACH OF YOU HAS A SOUL FULL OF MUCH POWER AND IT WOULD PLEASE TO`O TO RECEIVE YOU AS A SACRIFICE.”