Islands of Fire Read online

  Grabbing hold of the rough cord, Kina saws the razor-edged shark teeth across it a few times, watching it fray. When the rope goes, the warriors tumble and cling to the remaining ropes, howling in rage. She cuts away another, and as it drops slack, the combined weight of the men is too much for the remaining ropes. The lines snap, dropping the warriors to the sea below. Kina watches them come down in the knee-deep water, their bones breaking from the impact.

  She turns and runs toward the other bridge. There won’t be much time. She runs past the downed bamboo pole, with all its smashed cages lying about in the weeds, and hastens across the other bridge. When she is more than halfway across, she stops. More voices. These ones seem to be coming from the rope ladder. Is it already too late?

  Kina redoubles her effort, reaching the other end of the bridge and rushing to the stakes that anchor the rope ladder in place. As she feared, there are several more warriors climbing up. Three more await by a pair of canoes at the base of the cliff. From her vantage point, Kina can now see the rest of the armada, over a score of canoes zig-zagging between sandbars and fanning out among the pillars of the Teeth.

  She is out of time.

  The lead warrior is only a few feet down and spots her. He cries out to the others below, but falls silent when he sees her crouch to cut away the peg.

  “You’re outnumbered,” he says. “You can kill me, but Nakali will have your skin.”

  Without reply, Kina uproots the stake. The rope ladder sags, supported by only one rope, and several of the warriors plunge toward the earth.

  She contemplates pulling up the next one, but looks back toward the bridge. She has another idea.

  Leaving the remaining burning warriors to struggle up the rest of the ladder, she runs back to the bridge and saws away one of the cords, leaving only three to span the distance, taking care to hang on to the severed end. She tucks her leiomano back into her waist and wraps the rope around each fist a couple of times to make a good grip. Her heart is pounding as she gazes down toward the shallows and the far cliff, hoping her effort won’t result in death.

  “Great Father Sky, if you can lend me aid, I would be grateful,” she says, but is cut off when she hears the first of the warriors reaching the top of the rope ladder back through the trees. There is no time for a full prayer, so she takes a breath and slides off the cliff.

  For a moment she feels like she is free-falling. Wind rushes through her hair. Then the rope goes taut and begins to swing her toward the far cliff. Kina struggles not to spin around, trying to keep her legs straight out before her. A gust of wind twists her round so that her feet are once more pointed toward the wall, then suddenly she is there, slamming into it with a force that nearly knocks the wind from her. The impact is like jumping from a high platform onto the ground, and it leaves her legs singing with agony. Much farther, and she is sure she could have broken them.

  But now the water is a short drop beneath her. Letting go, Kina plunges into the shallow water, spreading herself out to spread the impact. When her feet finally manage to get purchase in the sandy sea floor, she is drenched, stunned, and barely able to swim. Her entire body is afire with agony. She begins to wonder if preventing the burning warriors from regaining the pahi was worth it. Why didn’t she just let them find it, return it to their high priestess, and sail away? Maybe she and Motua would be forgotten, or considered unimportant, left behind as the fleet headed back to Keli`anu?

  But no, she tells herself, the Cult of the Ebon Flame will only use it to kill more prisoners and make more of their infernal drums, and then what? Build an armada even larger than the one they have and sail it against the peaceful nations nearby? Enslave Ku`ano`ano and make drums of its populace? Where would it end?

  She paddles until she reaches the dripping wall of rock forming the first island. The jetty is here, and she climbs up onto it, rolling onto her back to catch her breath. High above, the warriors have reached the damaged bridge and Kina can hear them arguing about how to cross it, convinced she is waiting on the far side. Perfect. Now, while they are looking elsewhere, she can make her escape.

  A part of her wants nothing more than to remain here on this jetty, let the sound of the waves lull her to sleep. But she turns back over and gets to her feet. There will be time for rest when she’s dead.

  She crouches and enters the archway. Just on the other side are the warriors, the ones standing guard near the canoes. Some of the warriors who fell from the rope ladder are still alive, and they are gasping and crying out in pain.

  Kina draws her leiomano and slinks through the archway until she sees them. The warriors are helping their brethren, a couple of which have shattered legs and are draped across the stones.

  Moving swiftly, Kina sloshes out of the archway and takes hold of the prow of the closest canoe. She flings herself in it and takes up the paddle.

  “Hey!” one of the warriors shouts, and she turns around to see them springing to action.

  Kina poles at the sandy bottom, propelling the scout canoe away from the others and around the curving wall. She hears spears hit the water behind her. The moment she is out of sight, she rises and yanks the sail into place. It luffs, catching the wind.

  Rounding the island, Kina passes beneath the burning warriors who are trying to cross the rope bridge. One of them spots her and they try to hurl sling rocks down, but their precarious and unbalanced perch ruins their aim, and the rocks plunk harmlessly into the sea nearby.

  Keeping close to the flank of the islands, Kina points her stolen canoe toward the dense inner maze of the Teeth. Her legs are shaking from fatigue and the spot on her thigh where the sling stone hit is still bleeding. She tenderly runs her hand across it, feeling the split skin, the blood, and the raised lump that is forming in the tissue. It burns from sea water. Kina considers ripping a piece of her tapa skirt to tie around it, but at that moment she hears, far back behind her, a terrifying sound.

  The drums.

  Kina on the Run

  Though distant, the drums echo across the water and down through the canyons between the islands. But Kina knows this means they have begun the hunt.

  Leaning into it, she paddles twice as hard and the canoe glides past the silent, dripping ramparts of the Teeth.

  Where is Motua and Pupo? Even though Kina is grateful that they can’t be seen, and thus perhaps they have escaped, she also aches at the thought of being left alone to flee the warriors herself. There is no way to know if Motua simply found a natural cavern in which to hide, fled to the ruins, decided to circle around and return when the fleet is gone, or struck out across the open ocean and left the Teeth behind. If she could know where they are, at least she could try to steer her pursuers in another direction. But without this knowledge, she realizes she will have to simply act on her own.

  She feels an old, familiar feeling creeping back, that feeling of being alone, and for a moment she is a young girl left to fend for herself in the tangled streets of Huka`i. Stealing fruit from the market, living under cast-off reed mats, she had made her way in the cracks and forgotten areas of the city, unnoticed and beneath consideration until she had learned to use her invisibility to her advantage. There had been others like her, and for a while they had worked together to gather resources and form their own community. But then they had begun to age, or to die of accidents or murders, or flee for better ground. Kina had fallen in love with another gutter rat like herself, but one day he had simply vanished, and the city ceased to hold any draw to her. It was then she had known it was time to move on.

  Like an old leather slipper, being once more alone and forced to fend for herself fits very well, and she slips into it easily and almost without thought. But she has experienced the pleasure of companionship, and solitude no longer appeals as it once did.

  Drifting by each island’s base, she gazes into the undercut rock in search of a hiding spot. None look promising—too small, too tall, too exposed, too sunny. Before lon
g, she begins to see the islands clustering closer and closer together and she realizes she has returned to area of the ruins. She cranes her neck upward but can’t see them. Hidden by trees and brush, at least from this angle, she realizes. But she knows where she is.

  It’s as good a place as any.

  Finding an inlet, Kina paddles through a cut between two islands no wider than Pupo’s old hut. Waves smack the rock on both sides and birds flutter through the nearly-touching undergrowth above her head. On the other side, she finds herself in a round gorge of flat, shallow water of a deep turquoise. She knows this place. Not far from here is the staircase.

  And sure enough, she finds it several minutes later. She is both relieved and saddened that the canoe carrying Motua and Pupo isn’t anchored there. Kina hops out and drags the canoe as far back into the cave as she can, before it grinds helplessly aground on stones and shells in the half-dark. Briefly, she considers pushing it back out into the water so it will drift off, perhaps throwing off her pursuers, but she finally decides it is better to leave it here just in case they don’t find her. She will need a canoe later.

  She climbs the stairs, surprised to find she is frightened of the dark and the old stones now that she is alone. The sun is nearly set, and the old stairway is lost in darkness. She must feel her way with feet and hands.

  Once she reaches the top, she creeps to the wall where she first saw the flotilla in the distance. She can still see parts of it, though now it is scattered around the islands of the Teeth. Exploratory canoes probe between each island, no doubt looking for her. She wonders if they will keep searching through the night.

  Until then, she will need food and shelter. She tossed down all the food and never had a chance to grab some for herself, and she feels the pangs of hunger starting in her belly. Using the rest of the daylight, she manages to find some wild fruits and climbs into the tight space between some fallen stones, satisfying herself with the meager nourishment and protection for now.

  Night falls swiftly, darkness sweeping across the ancient ruins. With the change in temperature, the winds shift and begin rushing like racing ghosts through the old corridors. Kina wishes she had the tapa cloth. She curls up in the back of the niche and tries her best to sleep, ignoring the plaintive moans of the wind.

  She sleeps through the first part of the morning. Though it is cramped in the little space, she welcomes the rest and so do her aching legs. At last, it is the return of hunger that drives her from the hiding spot.

  The leiomano is useful for cutting ropes or human flesh, but nearly useless for hunting small game. Kina thinks back on some of the lessons she learned while traveling around Mokukai, felling birds with hurled rocks and starting a small fire with rubbed sticks. Casting about for stones, she gathers a pile of ammunition and spends an hour throwing them at birds until she finally kills one. Making a fire with sticks takes a little longer, but before long she has a small blaze. She doesn’t dare let the fire burn for long, though. As soon as she is satisfied that the birds are cooked enough for eating, she douses the flames, nervously eyeing the thin column of smoke it has left in the sky.

  Between the wild fruit, birds, and what fish she might be able to catch in the placid waters of the Teeth, Kina is sure she could live here for some time. Pupo was able to do so, on smaller islands than those where Kina now finds herself.

  High Priestess Nakali’s flotilla had spent the night clustered in a sheltered cove. When Kina had first scanned the horizon in the morning, she had a brief moment of elation, thinking they had called off the chase and sailed off overnight. But she knew it was unlikely, and when the fleet appears later that morning, her suspicion is confirmed. All morning, Kina watches it work along the islands, the smaller canoes darting in and out of the narrows between islands, creating an impassible screen. If Motua and Pupo haven’t left the islands, she now realizes, they will surely be caught. Nakali is combing through these islands with a thoroughness Kina never predicted.

  All for the pahi? Perhaps she had overestimated its importance to the Cult of the Ebon Flame.

  By midday, the great war canoe of the high priestess herself is drifting by the knot of islands at the center of the Teeth. Kina hides in the tangle of growth near the island’s precarious edge and watches as canoes work through the little inlets. Before long they find their way into the knot and she can see them hunting along the base of each cliff.

  Minutes later, several of the canoes break away from the others to converge on the tiny cavern at the foot of the stairs. Kina then knows the grotto, and her canoe, have been discovered. One of the canoes breaks away and makes haste for one of the narrow passageways out of the knot, and Kina knows they are going to inform the high priestess of the find.

  It is time to hide.

  Kina runs through the avenues, trying out different hiding spots. None are to her satisfaction, though, as they are either too easily noticed or not deep enough to fully conceal her.

  As she moves, she realizes she is growing ever closer to the old temple, the one that is shaped so similar to the structure back on Toko-Mua. This is not where she wants to be. She turns around to head back, hoping if she moves quick enough she’ll be able to try a different avenue, when she hears voices. The narrow old halls of stone seem to amplify speech, making it seem like the approaching party is nearly on top of her.

  Kina freezes, too frightened to move. She looks left and right but sees only underbrush and fallen stones.

  She turns and pads back toward the temple on silent, bare feet, risking quick glances behind her. The exploratory party is saying something about ghosts and bad luck. Kina doesn’t wait around to hear more. She makes a split-second decision and rushes into the temple.

  Just as before, it is dark and cavernous, broken by shafts of sunlight. Birds flutter in the dark recess high overhead. Kina cuts across the center and exits from another archway on the far side, only to find herself facing a wall of brambles.

  Voices, even closer now. She hears surprised shouting. They have found the temple.

  Kina begins climbing the outside wall of the temple, her fingers finding easy purchase on the old stones. She hears grinding as decaying stones shift in their mortar, dropping grit and gravel to the temple floor. To avoid being seen, she stays away from the gaping holes in the temple ceiling. Just as she passes one, she hears the quality of the voices shift as the warriors enter the temple, their stunned whispers echoing in the high chamber.

  Trying not to pant with exertion, Kina presses herself to the stone and listens.

  “What is this place?” one of the warriors asks.

  “Great Tiumata!” another says. “It can’t be!”

  “Silence,” a third says in a commanding voice. “I feel eyes on us.” After a long pause, during which Kina is afraid to even suck in breath, the same voice, presumably a captain, barks an order. “You two! Report back to Nakali at once. She must know about this. You and you, go outside and continue the search.”

  The sound of footsteps at the base of the temple alerts Kina. She gazes down to see the captain emerge from the archway below her. He looks first at the brambles, then turns to crane his neck up the angled outer wall of the temple. He spots Kina immediately.

  “That’s her!” he shouts. “One of the slaves is here!”

  Kina pulls out her leiomano and starts back down the temple wall, but the captain starts climbing toward her. He has a leiomano of his own, which he holds in his hand, ready to attack Kina’s exposed feet.

  She turns and climbs higher, out of options. She knows she is only putting off the inevitable, but the urge to flee is strong, and she can only hope her luck will return. The climb grows more treacherous as she grows higher. Stones fitted into the ancient temple structure are badly weathered, and she feels some of them rocking under her weight. Other warriors have reached the base of the temple and begin to climb the other sides, trying to cut her off.

  Kina stops, only a few paces fr
om the peak, and turns back toward her pursuer. She slides down at him, trying to catch him off guard. They swing wildly at each other, each afraid to lose their grip, and Kina locks the teeth of her leiomano into his and they struggle to maintain balance.

  “Leave me alone!” she screeches, and kicks him in the face. He teeters and slides downward for a couple of seconds before regaining purchase. There is a loud crack and a part of the temple roof collapses, dropping a cluster of stones down to the inner floor. The captain fumbles for purchase and barely manages to avoid falling through.

  One of the other warriors has reached Kina’s level and is coming around the side. A third approaches. Kina attacks him ferociously, trying to pitch him from the roof. He rakes her arm with the teeth of his own club, drawing blood. The third angles across and approaches from her other side, flanking her. Kina scrambles up a few more steps, spinning around to fight off both attackers as once. She is now almost at the peak, and can see yet more warriors coming up the other side.

  A loud crack accompanies another collapse. One of the warriors screams as he falls through, his body hitting the floor with the fallen stones. Kina manages to slice one of the warriors near her. He slides away, blood spurting from his chest. In the meantime, the captain has rejoined the other and Kina is barely able to block a sweep of his leiomano with her own.

  Realizing this position won’t work for her, Kina rolls over the top of the temple and allows herself to slide several feet down toward another hole. She isn’t far from one of the advancing warriors. Stopping herself at the lip of the hole, she scrambles for a grip. The ragged edge gives way and leaves her legs kicking in the open air.

  “Stop her!” the captain yells to his charges.

  Kina swings her legs around inside until she finds one of the solid beams forming the inner frame of the tall peaked temple roof. She slides through the hole onto the beam. Now she is inside the temple, high up near the ceiling, where the walls join in darkness. The beam is ancient and groans beneath her weight, and startled birds explode around her in a flurry of alarm. Centuries of guano encrust the beam and make a grip nearly impossible.