Islands of Fire Read online

  One of the warriors reaches the hole right behind her. He tries to climb in.

  “Stay back!” Kina says. “It’s too weak! You’ll bring the whole temple down!”

  He thinks better of it, blocking the hole instead. “Where are you going to go, now?” he asks. “You’re trapped. Give up!”

  Across from Kina and down an arm’s length is another hole in the roof. If she can just reach it, she might be able to climb out downslope from the captain. She starts off along the beam, straddling it and trying not to notice how high off the temple floor she is, but a grinding sound accompanied by a rain of gravel coming from the far end of the weak beam stops her.

  The warrior is right. They have her.

  She gazes down at the floor. Two warriors have entered the temple and stand there, gazing up at her with weapons in hand, just waiting for her to fall. There is no way forward, no way back, and a fall from this height will surely mean her death.

  Glaring over her shoulder at the warrior, she lets her leiomano fall. “You win. I’m coming out.”

  He gives her room, and even takes her arm as she tries to crawl awkwardly out of the hole. Now that the other warriors have made it to the peak, the entire temple is cracking and threatening to collapse, so the captain orders the rest of the warriors to stand down. They pick their way down the roof to the ground, Kina with them.

  It feels good to be back on solid ground, she has to admit, even though the warriors hurl her to her knees and toward over her.

  “You thought you could escape High Priestess Nakali?” the captain sneers, circling her. “You thought you could take our sacred pahi and not suffer the wrath of the Ebon Flame? You’re lucky we don’t cave in your skull right here. Others have died for less. But I’ll let the high priestess decide what fate is to befall you.”

  “I don’t have the pahi,” Kina says, through gritted teeth. “Can’t you see that?”

  “No, but your friend does. He can’t evade us forever. We’ll catch him, and you’ll help us do it.”

  Kina decides to try a bluff. “He doesn’t have it, either. We dropped it in the sea and watched the accursed thing sink. We were happy to be rid of it.”

  The captain blanches. “If that’s the case, your fate will be terrible, indeed. Nakali will relish your suffering.”

  Kina is surprised that the warriors don’t haul her to her feet and take her back to the canoes. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Me?” the captain asks. “I’m not taking you anywhere. One of our runners has gone to inform Nakali of our find. She’ll want to see this temple. When she arrives, she’ll find you with us.”

  “Two fish in one net, eh? And I suppose you’ll be handsomely rewarded. A village girl of your choosing? A plot of land? Maybe you can join the ranks of the ali`i?”

  The captain ignores her, so Kina falls silent. An hour wears on and the warriors continue to guard her, taking turns scouting the area. At last, Kina hears the sound of many people approaching through the crumbling avenues. Her heart pounds heavily and, for once, Kina wonders if it might simply stop out of terror.

  A regal-looking woman comes into sight, attended by two dozen warriors and kupuna. She is wearing a red and black headdress draped with dangling shell beads, and is wrapped in a dazzling crimson feather cape. In her hand is a ceremonial spear tipped with sharpened bone. Two standard bearers pace her on either side, carrying the black and red colors of the Ebon Flame.

  She stops in front of Kina, her assemblage fanning out on either side of her.

  “High Priestess,” one of the warriors says. “Here is the female slave. Should I kill her?”

  Kina waits, silently, for a spear to be driven through her chest.

  An Ancient Fire

  Nakali pays Kina little mind, her attention drawn instead up to the tapered form of the ancient temple. For a long moment she stands, her face a mask of barely concealed astonishment. At last she looks around at the old walls, the flagstones, the pillars.

  “Makano,” she barks. An aging kupuna in black and red regalia approaches her.

  “Yes, My Lady?”

  “What is this place? I recall no mention of it.”

  Makano has been examining the walls around him, though he seems as perplexed as Nakali. “Nor I,” he replies. “There is no record of this place.”

  “And yet there stands our temple,” the high priestess says.

  “So it would seem.”

  To the captain, who stands at attention nearby, she asks, “Is it safe inside?”

  “My Lady, the ceiling threatens to cave in and has done so in places, though I think it should be safe enough to step in.”

  Moving past Kina, High Priestess Nakali strides across the courtyard to the archway and gingerly steps inside. The warriors leave Kina kneeling, guarded by two spearmen, while the entourage moves in and around the tall structure.

  At last, the high priestess steps back out. “Spread out,” she says. “I want this entire place explored and mapped. You—bring the girl to me.”

  Kina is forcibly lifted and brought over to High Priestess Nakali, who looks her over. “You thought you could get away from us?” she asks. Kina is sure the high priestess isn’t expecting an answer, so she keeps her gaze locked on the ground. “Look at me when I speak to you.”

  Kina looks up. The high priestess is gazing down at her imperiously. “Did you hear my question?”

  “Yes,” Kina says. “And we did escape.”

  “It doesn’t appear so to me,” Nakali replies. “You broke a kapu more sacred than any in Keli`anu. You stole the pahi, a blade granted to us by Tiamuta herself. For this crime there is only one punishment.”

  “I was meant for death before,” Kina says. “So what is different now?”

  “What is different?” Nakali asks, almost shocked at the question. “Such insolence! But I shouldn’t be too surprised, coming from a filthy kaua like yourself. Your punishment shall be so severe, you will crave the death you could have had. If there is enough left of your worthless skin when I’m finished with you, perhaps we’ll make you into a drum after all. Or maybe we’ll just toss strips of your carcass to our war dogs. That’s what is different.”

  “My Lady!” someone calls from nearby.

  High Priestess Nakali looks up, visibly annoyed. “What is it?”

  “You should see this.”

  The pit is the same as when Kina last saw it, though in the noonday sun she can see the bottom much more clearly. Nakali’s warriors have spread out, first securing the large courtyard, then venturing into the pit.

  Nakali stares up at the weathered stone statue overlooking the pit. Her kupuna, Makano, stands beside her. The two of them talk rapidly in low tones, and Kina can’t hear what is being discussed.

  “This place is haunted,” Kina says, suddenly sure she doesn’t want Nakali to go into the pit.

  The high priestess turns to her. “You dare speak to me unbidden?”

  Kina ignores her and repeats what she said. “I’ve been here for several days, and I’ve seen things… spirits… marching through the streets at night. But nothing is as bad as what comes out of that pit.”

  The warriors glance at one another, some of them shifting their feet.

  “Speak, slave,” Makano says.

  Kina struggles to come up with a suitable falsehood. Her first thought is of the devil Pupo had described. Her mind races, trying to remember his description. “There’s a devil that dwells down in that pit, in a dark tunnel. Sometimes you can see the devil’s glow. It looks like a spider, though it is hairy like an animal and walks on human hands. It lets out a cry as it hunts through these old ruins, a sound like a wailing widow. It’s taller than a hut and moves so quickly that one can hardly see it coming.”

  “You lie,” Nakali says. Her kupuna looks less convinced. He whispers something to the high priestess, who then turns back to Kina.

  “If it is as you say, I�
��ll let you tease this devil out of its lair.”

  When at last the call comes back that it is clear, Nakali selects a few of her elite warriors to accompany her down the steps. Kina is dragged at spear point and sent down the steps in front of them all.

  “Show us this devil of yours, kaua!” Nakali says.

  Kina reluctantly descends the curved steps until she is standing at the base of the pit. Direct sunlight makes it hard to see down the tunnel, but she thinks she can see a hint of light from the strange bowl of fire.

  She has few options, so she tries another ruse.

  Letting out a shriek as though gazing upon her own death, Kina turns and makes to run back up the steps. “It’s coming! Run for your lives!”

  The superstitious warriors, alarmed by her obvious terror, raise their weapons and back away from the pit. Some break ranks and scatter. Nakali herself looks horrified, her eyes widening in anticipation of what is to come. When nothing emerges from the pit, anger returns to her face.

  “She lies!” the high priestess shouts. “There is no devil here!”

  Kina looks up and briefly considers trying to climb out of the pit and running for it, but many of the warriors have bows or slings, and she knows she won’t make it out of the square. Death might be preferable to what she knows High Priestess Nakali has planned for their return to Keli`anu, but Kina hasn’t made it this far in life by giving in. Time has shown her that stalling for time is a useful tactic. Inevitably, something comes up.

  A knot of warriors moves down into the pit, followed by Nakali and her kupuna, though most of them stay up top to stand guard.

  “You were so eager to keep us away from this pit,” Nakali says to Kina. “Why? Is your friend hiding in here? Have you concealed the pahi away down here somewhere? Answer me!”

  “I just enjoy seeing that look of terror on your face.”

  Nakali steps closer to her. “Maybe I’ll have my warriors cut out your eyes, then.”

  Makano stops the high priestess. “Your Excellency, look!”

  He directs her gaze down the tunnel toward the distant glow. “What is that?”

  A panicked muttering ripples through the assemblage, who are no doubt reconsidering Kina’s warning about ghosts.

  “Check it out,” Nakali barks, and several warriors head down the tunnel. Moments later they return, babbling about a magical fire. Kina watches as Nakali, joined by her kupuna and best warriors, stride down the hall into the chamber with the strange bowl of fire. Kina walks slowly behind.

  A long silence comes from the room. Though Kina can’t see the expression on Nakali’s face, she can imagine it. It is probably similar to the one she saw on Motua—awe, shock, wonderment. “Pick it up,” Nakali says, and someone objects but then is cut off by Nakali repeating her order.

  “The bowl is not too hot,” the unlucky warrior reports.

  “Hand it to me.”

  Nakali turns with the black bowl in hand, her face lit up by the crackling fire. She gazes past Kina, no longer mindful of their captive, or even of the rest of her surroundings.

  “This alters everything. We must return to Keli`anu,” the high priestess snaps. “With haste. You! Take this bowl. Makano, I want you to study these images on the wall. In fact, gather some of your men and transcribe anything you can see.”

  “What of the pahi, Your Excellency?”

  Irritated, Nakali hisses. “Find it, of course! But don’t waste time.”

  “Yes, My Lady.”

  “What of the captive?” asks the captain, the one with whom Kina had fought earlier.

  Nakali looks at Kina, though it appears she is no longer as focused on punishing the runaway as she once was. “What? Just take her to my ship and hold her there. We’ll deal with her later.”

  The warriors shove Kina back down the hall, up the steps, and across the courtyard. Looking back, Kina sees the high priestess emerge from the pit, one of her elite warriors carrying the bowl. The guards take her back through the ruins and down the staircase, binding her with a cord when they reach the cluster of canoes waiting in the lagoon. Kina is thrown down into the scuppers and rolls back to a sitting position as several warriors begin paddling the canoe away from the island.

  Before long, they are pulling up alongside the war canoe, a floating fortress made of three parallel hulls cut from massive logs. Kina is hoisted up onto the deck, where she sees two buildings made of wood that serve as a mobile command center and royal quarters. She is made to kneel, still bound, enduring the blazing sun all afternoon until she sees the transport canoe of the high priestess returning across the water, escorted by swift battle canoes.

  Nakali takes the bowl to her quarters and leaves Kina kneeling at spearpoint.

  A couple hours before sunset, Kina notices a commotion far off on the water. She lifts her head, licking her parched lips. Padding rapidly out between two of the Teeth is a solitary canoe, being pursued by several others. As Kina watches, her hopes sinking, battle canoes emerge from behind other islands and attempt to cut off the fleeing canoe. There is a fierce battle, during which time someone leaps into the water.

  Then it is all over, and a flock of canoes converge on the area. Kina can see someone dragged out of the water, and several divers taking turns going down for something. At last the canoes make their way toward Nakali’s war canoe, and as they grow closer, Kina can see Motua and Pupo on board, pinned down by snarling warriors with clubs raised to strike. Motua’s left arm is streaming with blood. It looks like a far worse wound than the one Kina suffered when lightly raked by shark teeth during the fight on top of the temple. This looks deep, the blood a dark red.

  Motua is first up, dumped to the wooden floor of the war canoe. He doesn’t rise. Warriors gather around him and roll him over, and Kina is relieved when she hears him cough.

  “Get the high priestess!” someone yells.

  Pupo is next, brought up to the deck as Motua is dragged across the deck over to Kina.

  “Here’s your lover,” one of the warriors spits. “The two of you will make fine drums.”

  Nakali comes out of her quarters, attended by her priests. She peers down at Motua.

  “Is this man dead?”

  “No, My Lady,” say the warriors who brought him on deck. They drop to one knee and cast their gaze downward.

  “Then why doesn’t he move?”

  “He was struck during the fight.”

  Nakali nudges him with her foot. “No matter, I suppose,” she says. “Where is the pahi?”

  A muscular warrior pads across the deck to her side, dropping low and presenting the black blade to her. “My Lady, the escaped slave attempted to drop it into the sea, but we recovered it.”

  Nakali lifts it from his hands. “Excellent.”

  Kina has never felt so defeated, so low. Her vision clouds with tears.

  “And so you see,” Nakali says to her, “there is nothing you can take from me. You thought you could bring us down by taking away our sacred pahi. But there is nowhere you can go that I cannot find you, and once I decide your life is mine, you can never run far enough. In fact, it was your pitiable attempt to get away from us that led us to these ruins. You’ve helped us far more than if we had simply taken your soul for our drums. You’ve shown us that there is more to Tiumata. She is older than we thought, and our people are the inheritors of something greater than we imagined. Much will be learned from this discovery. I assure you, your name will be marked in our histories as one who lifted the veil of centuries from us. For this, I thank you.”

  Kina has nothing to say. She keeps her eyes directed at the deck.

  High Priestess Nakali turns from her. “Gather our scouts and reassemble the fleet. I want to depart in the morning. I’m going to want a complete reckoning of our supplies.”

  “Yes, My Lady.”

  “And this one,” she says, indicating Motua, “is not to die. I have plans for him. The other one… I don
’t know him. He looks too old to make a good spirit drum, so pen him and brand him as a slave.”

  “Yes, My Lady.”

  Nakali walks off with the pahi, leaving Kina in silent tears on the deck. After a while, a kahuna who knows healing arts comes to Motua and begins rubbing salve over the wounds, then binds them with leaves and fibrous cord.

  “He’ll live,” the kahuna says, seeing Kina’s anguish. “Though I suspect you’ll wish he hadn’t.”

  Pupo looks grave. “We did our best to hide. There were too many of them.”

  Kina nods. “I was hoping you had fled.”

  “We thought about that, but they had lookout canoes everywhere. We didn’t dare leave the shelter of the Teeth or we would have been spotted for sure.”

  “It would have been better if we had all died,” Kina says. “Only horrors await us at Keli`anu.”

  Pupo looks toward the edge of the deck. “Perhaps we could escape in the night.”

  “We’re both bound. Look how far out we are. We’d never be able to swim that far, and at any rate, they’d notice us and come looking.”

  “Mother Ocean, help us,” Pupo says, miserably.

  Motua lets out a little moan and shifts his weight but doesn’t awaken. Kina silently hopes he remains unconscious.

  Night falls, she Kina realizes she has fallen asleep. Pupo nudges her awake.

  “Food,” he says.

  Three warriors are bringing over ti leaves upon which are bits of overcooked meat, some poi, and pieces of papaya.

  The two eat ravenously, as though they hadn’t eaten in days.

  Before long, perhaps brought around by the cooling air and the offshore night breeze, Motua awakens, his eyes blinking in the dim light of the fading sunset.

  “Kina,” he says in a weak voice.

  “It’s me.”

  He looks around, taking in the scene, then groans. “We tried, didn’t we?”