Daniel hadn’t laid hands on it since that day of death and destruction. He’d refused to touch it when Talei brought it to him for safekeeping, only handling it when it was wrapped in many layers. But desperate times called for godly weapons.
“Here goes nuthin,” said Daniel. He placed two hands on the center of the staff and raised it up. Nothing. It felt light in his grasp, familiar. Like it welcomed him. But no light show. A stab of disappointment. Daniel had hoped the Bone would do something, anything useful so he could use it as a weapon against the women he would face in Tonga. He thought of the Guardians who had visited them, broken the sanctuary of their home and anger simmered inside him. For a moment he was tempted to use the cutter on the Bone, to grind it down to a pile of dust.
“Really?” he said to the empty workshop. To the heavens. To Fanua. Or maybe just to the uncaring wall. “Just this once I need you? And you give me nothing. I never asked for Vasa Loloa. I never wanted it. And even when I had it, all I ever did was use it to protect the ones I love.”
Daniel thought back to the Telesā he had killed in the garden, just a few meters away from that very spot. On that day, he had fought with all his heart, might, mind and strength for his family, for Leila, for Samoa.
An impossible breeze danced through the shuttered building, bringing with it the delicate fragrance of his Mama’s favorite flower mosooi. As he held the Tangaloa Bone in his hands, he thought he heard his grandmother’s voice one more time. ‘Peace, my son. Forgive yourself.’
That couldn’t be possible, could it? It was like a sweet release as a stone he bore within him, crumbled and became dust in the wind. He would always bear the knot of grief and sorrow, but he was no longer weighted down with the burden of guilt he had been carrying since that day in the garden.
And then, in the dust-specked dimness of the workshop built by his grandfather’s hands, he saw him. In his faded blue overalls that Mama always insisted on washing and ironing into pristine readiness. Papa would grumble about having to wear sparkling pressed overalls to work. ‘I’m a working man. A welder. How can anyone take me seriously if I’m wearing this? Looking like I never picked up a grinder or welded a single line?!’ He would speak with gruffness but his dark eyes would dance with laughter as he stooped to kiss grandmother on the cheek. Daniel saw that same light in his eyes now as his grandfather smiled at him.
“Papa? Is it really you?”
Grandfather nodded.
“I don’t know what to do,” said Daniel. “I’m afraid.” It felt good to say those words. That by the very act of speaking it out loud, it made uncertainty and fear, okay.
“Follow your heart. It’s never guided you wrong yet.” His grandfather’s image wavered and faded. Daniel was alone in the workshop.
That’s when it happened. Daniel’s tattoos began to glow, a simmering cobalt fire. First his sleeve, the stamped patterns and whorls that he’d gotten at age sixteen. The tattoo felt pleasantly warm, a delicious tip toeing of delight as if his body was saying hello to a dearly missed friend.
Then the intricate patterns of his tatau, the traditional Samoan tattoo for men, the one that had taken two weeks to undergo. The tatau that spoke of submission, humility and obedience. To the tufuga and their rules. To tradition and custom. To rituals handed down through the generations, so long ago that no-one knew any longer as to why they were the way they were. Only that they must obey. The lines that spanned from the center of his back and across to his upper torso, and down to his knees. All of it lit up in embered brilliance in the shadows of the workshop’s interior. Daniel raised the staff above his head, eyes closed with the pure joy of homecoming. It spoke to him. As long as he carried the Tangaloa Bone, he would have the power of Vasa Loloa coursing through his veins. He knew what he had to do now. He was ready for whatever may come.
Back at the house, Leila, Simone and Kirei were having a loud game of Ka-Isu at the kitchen table. The others barely looked up at his entrance, but Leila gave him a searching look and left the game.
“What is it?” she asked. “Somethings happened.”
Daniel gave her a sanitized version of Ilisapesi’s phone call, leaving out the part about the Bone. Of course. He told her only that Ronan had been taken prisoner by the Vasa Loloa who weren’t happy about a foreigner asking questions.
Leila frowned. “I’ll pack a bag. Go with you.”
Daniel stopped her. “No. Not this time Leila. I can’t risk it. Ilisapesi has promised me safe passage. But they don’t want you anywhere near Tonga. We have to respect their wishes. It’s not fair but we knew there’d be some who would hold a grudge against you after what happened with Pele. I’ll go to Tonga, talk to her, ask her for help with Moanasina. I should only be away for a couple of days. You hang out here with the card sharks,” a nod at the wild argument and peals of laughter coming from the kitchen, “Keep an eye on Kirei. And stay away from the Moata’a house and the beach till I get back, okay? Please?”
Leila nodded and then looked at him with pensive concentration. “There’s something different about you. I can’t quite put my finger on it. Something’s changed.”
Daniel laughed. “What do you mean?”
“You’re lighter. Happier. Something. Who did you see today?”
“I saw Mama and Papa,” said Daniel.
“Oh I’m so glad Daniel!” said Leila, assuming he meant that he’d gone to visit their graves. “You haven’t been to see them since Mama’s burial. I didn’t want to push you so I never said anything. But I’m so happy that you went to see them. Everything good?”
“Yes,” said Daniel with a smile. “Everything’s good now.” He took her in a gentle hug, and for a quiet moment as the world faded, it was just them two.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The plane ride to Tonga was smooth. Ilisapesi had said that her sisters would meet him at the airport and they were easy to pick out. Two women in white and wearing kiekie at their waists. All eyes in the arrivals area were on them, but they seemed impervious of the attention. Accustomed to it, and accepted it as their due. They watched as he fetched his duffel bag and came towards them.
The taller one spoke first. “Grandson of Tavake, welcome.” She had generous curves, arms with thick bands of tattooed muscle, and dark hair pulled back into a severe bun. She was an impressive figure with a glorious kiekie made of spangled mirrors and shells. “I’m Hiva. This is my sister Sola.”
The second Vasa Loloa smiled. “We knew your mother Salamasina well. We studied the healing arts together as young girls.” She was a slight figure in white and with a more subdued black and silver kiekie.
Daniel hid his surprise. His ‘mother’ Salamasina had been in her seventies when she died, but this woman’s unlined face and striking features didn’t look much older than him. A side effect of the Telesā gift. Combined with their extensive knowledge of plants and Telesā barely seemed to age.
“Thanks for meeting me,” said Daniel. “Ilisapesi said we’d be catching a boat ride to your island from here?”
“Yes,” said Hiva. “We’ll drive to where our boat is waiting. Come. Is that all you brought?”
She directed a pointed glance at the duffel bag Daniel carried.
“It’s all I need. I’m not staying long.”
The women exchanged a secret smile. The kind that would have had Daniel on edge, but he took comfort in knowing he had the Tangaloa Bone in his bag. He’d taken it apart so the three pieces could fit neatly in the duffel, but even separated, the pieces resonated with power, giving him strength.
He followed the sisters out to their vehicle, unsurprised to see it was a latest model Land cruiser. Leila’s mother had been fond of her cars too. The bigger, faster and more rugged the better. He got into the back seat and put his bag beside him. Sola was the driver and Hiva came to sit with him in the back seat.
“So Daniel,” asked Hiva. “How much do you know about our islands? And about Vasa Loloa here?”
“Not a whol
e lot,” admitted Daniel. “I left here as a baby and Salamasina never brought me with her when she would come visit. Not that she visited Tonga often anyway. It was only recently, before she died, that Mama told me anything about Vasa Loloa.”
“You’ll have to excuse our curiosity,” said Sola without taking her eyes from the road. “We’ve never met a boy Telesā before. Oh sorry. I mean you used to be. Ilisapesi says you lost your Gift in the battle against Pele?”
“You weren’t there?” asked Daniel lightly.
“Tavake left us behind,” said Sola. She didn’t sound happy about it.
“To watch over things. Someone needed to watch over the little sisters in the Covenant. Those whose Gifts haven’t fully developed yet,” explained Hiva. Her face darkened. “She should have taken us with her. We would have made sure things went differently.”
They had left the town area now and were driving along a winding coastal road. “Tonga is very beautiful,” said Daniel, looking out at the scenery. “Is the boat far?”
“Not far,” said Hiva lightly. “We’re taking the scenic route. So you can see more of our beautiful island. Right Sola?”
The sisters laughed. He felt a light tiptoe of awareness, begin from the tip of his tattoo sleeve and slowly move up his arm, a growing urgency tied to the bag beside him. Casually, carefully, he placed his hand on the top of the duffel, felt for the zipper, took a calming breath, found comfort and reassurance in what lay within. Then it came to him. So clear and loud that for a moment he was certain everyone in the truck had heard it.
Beware.
He sat bolt upright, but the sisters showed no sign of having heard the voice. It was only speaking to him.
Prepare.
Daniel sensed rather than saw everything all at once in a single moment of silver blue clarity. The locked doors. Windows half down. The deserted winding road that dropped to the ocean. The seatbelt with its extra length of band. The pen in his pocket that he’d used to fill in the Arrival Card. And the quiet presence of the Tangaloa Bone.
“Seems to be taking a while to get to the wharf,” said Daniel with casual steadiness. “I was here a few years ago on my first trip to Tonga and don’t remember it being this far.”
“Oh we thought you’d be tired from your journey,” said Sola, glancing at him through the mirror. “Hospitality demands that you have a rest.”
Hiva laughed at that. “Have you heard of the fuga fish Daniel? It secretes a special kind of venom that paralyses its victims. Then while they’re immobile, the predator strikes.”
It all happened so fast. Hiva took something out of her woven shell bag. A thick syringe filled with green liquid. She thrust, aiming for his neck. But Daniel alerted by the ocean whispers, twisted out of the way just in time and grabbed her arm with both his hands. For a heartbeat they were poised like that, Hiva’s face alight with gleeful purpose as they struggled. Daniel’s greater strength would have prevailed but Sola, seeing the battle, started to wildly swerve the car from side to side on the road, tires screeching loudly. Both Daniel and Hiva were thrown to one side and in the scuffle, Hiva managed to stab the syringe in Daniel’s right thigh. He kicked before she could inject all of its contents, catching her on the shoulder and knocking her backwards.
Sola was shouting commands from the front seat as she drove. “Finish him!”
Daniel pulled himself upright, and yanked the syringe out of his thigh. There was a numbness creeping up his leg now, and he sent a quick prayer to the ocean gods that Hiva hadn’t hit him with enough venom to knock him out. He had to move fast. He threw himself across and slammed into Hiva. She fought back with wild fury, landing punches and an elbow. He dropped the syringe. The careening car had them rolling and then he was on the seat with Hiva on top of him. She caught him in a choke hold with her massive hands and laughed as he tried vainly to fight her off.
The pen.
Daniel grabbed the pen, and stabbed. He was aiming for her eye and missed, gouging instead deep into her cheek. Hiva screamed in mingled rage and pain, released her hold. Daniel grabbed his chance. He picked up the syringe and injected it into her throat. Hiva’s eyes widened as her body went slack, and Daniel struggled free from her.
Sola accelerated and did another wild careen across the road that sent Daniel flying. This time his head hit the side of the door, and still the creeping numbness was spreading. His right side was useless now and he couldn’t make his right arm obey him. He reached up, yanked on the seatbelt, enough for a looped band. Then he half-stood and threw the band over Sola’s chair, pulling on it with his one still-working hand, effectively choking her in a vice grip. She let out a garbled shriek, trying to free herself from the belt as her hands left the steering wheel, scrabbling and tugging vainly.
It was getting hard for him to think. To see. But still he held fast to certainties. He must not let go of the pressure on the seatbelt band. He must not pass out. He must get the Tangaloa Bone.
The car careened off the road and went airborne. For a brief moment Daniel saw sky and the beckoning line of the horizon. I’m flying. Then they twisted, hit the water with a dreadful wrench, and everything went black.
Daniel awoke to a murky daze and a dull ache in his head. Water was rushing in around him and there was a frantic panicked minute when he thought that he couldn’t move his lower body. Have I lost my legs?! Then he remembered where he was and how he got there. He’d been jabbed with a paralyzing agent. He was in a car. With two women who attacked him. He looked around. Sola was still in the front seat, but completely still. Hiva was conscious. Eyes wide open and filled with rage. But she wasn’t moving. Even as the water rushed in up past her chest, then to her neck and higher, she didn’t move. She couldn’t.
It took all of Daniel’s willpower to make his body respond to his command. His right side felt like concrete. Must get the Tangaloa Bone. He knew that once he had the Bone in his hands, everything would be alright. The car was sinking fast. He looked around. Where’s the bag? Saw it underwater in the back. Daniel took a deep breath and went under, reached for it, forcing his body to co-operate, kicking with his left leg to propel him forward, to push just a little bit further. One more push and he had the bag. He pulled it to him, unzipped it and found the first piece. Immediately a blinding light lit up the car. But even better, he felt a rush of warmth flow through him, a lightness of being. The numbness disappeared and sheer power coursed through his body. He was Vasa Loloa. Beloved of the ocean. The ache in his lungs for air, eased. He got the other two pieces and quickly locked them into place. Now he held a staff that coursed with cobalt light and had his tattoos answering with their own pulsing energy.
Time to get out of here.
He tried the door but it was jammed. But a single jab with the end of the staff blasted the door from its hinges, sparking a torrent rush of bubbles and current. He pushed out of the sinking car. For the briefest of moments, he was tempted to leave the women behind. But it was a fleeting thought only. He took Sola first. He tore the front door off with one hand, savoring the wave of strength within him that made the task so easy. He scooped the woman in his arms and with a single kick, blasted them both to the surface. The beach was a short distance away and Daniel called a current to jet them to shore where he laid the unconscious woman on the sand. Then back again, diving to the car where he grabbed Hiva and brought her to land also. They lay there coughing and spluttering.
“I don’t understand,” said Sola weakly. “You’re not Vasa Loloa anymore. You were supposed to be an easy kill. An easy delivery.”
“And you were supposed to give me safe passage. As promised by your Covenant Keeper,” said Daniel. “Was this her idea? Did she send you to kill me? Who were you going to deliver the Bone to?”
“Say nothing Sola,” snapped Hiva. She still hadn’t regained full movement of her body yet, but she could talk. To Daniel she spat, “The only good male Telesā is a dead one. The law about killing male children was made for a reason.”
“What will you do to us?” asked Sola.
“Nothing.”
“Because you’re weak,” spat Hiva. “You should kill me. Because I will hunt you to the end of the ocean.”
Daniel ignored her raving and hefted his soggy duffel bag over his shoulder. “I doubt that Hiva. Neither of you have used any ocean attacks today. Which tells me that your powers aren’t much to speak of.” He started walking up the beach towards the road, the staff in one hand, already feeling like a familiar piece of him. It was an easy thing for him to speak to it now, to soothe its fire so that the staff didn’t light up every time he touched it.
“Where are you going?” Sola called after him.
“To get my father,” said Daniel. “Tell your sisters I’m coming.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Daniel walked for a few minutes before a rusty old truck stopped and a farmer offered him a ride. The pickup was piled high with taro but two boys made room for him beside them on a wooden bench. One looked to be about seven or eight and the other was a teenager.
“Brothers?” asked Daniel as they rattled along over bumps and potholes.
The smaller one nodded his head shyly while the older boy asked, “Where you from?”
“Samoa,” said Daniel. “Arrived on the plane this morning.”
“What happened to you?” asked the teenager, indicating Daniel’s wet clothes and the bruise on his face from the crash.
“I went for a swim,” said Daniel with a grin. “Where you going with all this kalo?”
“Market,” said the teenager. “We look after our grandfather’s stall there.”
“We grow the best taro on the island,” boasted the little boy, finding his voice.
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