Where the Waters Turn Black (Yarnsworld Book 2)

by Benedict Patrick

  A roar told Kaimana that Rakau had arrived. She screamed as the monster latched to her shoulder was ripped away, taking a chunk of flesh with it. The rest of the beasts scattered as Rakau and his companions bit and snapped at them. Another of the rakau tipua killed the fish monster that was attached to Kaimana’s leg, causing its grip on her limb to loosen. From the edges of her vision, Kaimana could see her attackers doing their best to attach themselves to the larger taniwha, with little success. Within minutes the fish were nowhere to be found, except for the carcasses that the two rakau tipua were dragging back to their herd.

  Rakau found her. He was breathing heavily from his exertions, and had a look of concern on his face.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said, looking gingerly at her shoulder. In truth, she was not too certain about that statement. The teeth had cut deep, and from what she could tell a lot of flesh had been taken by the bite. “I need to dress this, though.”

  Following what she could remember from the healing that Rawiri did for the troupe, Kaimana searched the smaller shrubs that grew where the jungle met the plains, and found the appropriate roots for dressing her wound. She ripped some cloth from her dress to make a bandage, and thanked Laka and numerous other gods that the bleeding seemed to stop quickly once it was bound.

  “There,” she smiled weakly to her friend, once the job was complete. “Good as new.”

  Rakau grunted, and then looked back to the herd of rakau tipua. Since the attack he had spent all of his time with Kaimana, and now the herd was moving away from them, making their way across the plains.

  “We’d better go and get them, hadn’t we?”

  Rakau tilted his head while looking at the retreating monsters, and then turned back to Kaimana. Instead of following the other taniwha, he assumed the curled up sleeping position that he had been so used to adopting, motioning with his head for Kaimana to curl up beside him. So much had happened today, Kaimana had not noticed that the sun was close to setting.

  She was confused. “But, we might lose them. Can’t we catch up and rest with them?”

  Rakau seemed not to notice her words, and settled himself down.

  Kaimana was, in truth, thankful for the rest. The other taniwha were far away already, and continuing to journey with her injuries did not appeal to her.

  Still, she thought, the timing of that attack had been terrible. This was what we had come here for. Rakau had found his own kind, somewhere he could call home. Those fish might have taken that away from him.

  No. It’s not the fish monsters’ fault, not really. It’s in their nature to attack smaller prey, to feed themselves. They were bound to attack me when I was by myself.

  This is all my fault. This is an island of monsters, and to most of them I’m a wandering morsel. The fish weren’t interested in the log taniwha. Just me, the human.

  Rakau rescued me, and thank the goddess this time he wasn’t hurt. Those monsters were small, and couldn’t pierce his hide.

  But, what will attack me next time?

  Kaimana stroked Rakau’s hide, now rising up and down gently as he slept. She was safe here with him, she knew, but he would never be free to find his own kind as long as she was around.

  Kaimana had not spent much time considering what her plan would be once Rakau had found safety. Now that they were here, however, it was obvious she had to leave, both for her own safety, and to give Rakau a chance to call this place home.

  Kaimana did not sleep much that night, and ignored the quiet mewling of her spark to spend time with it, to finish their song. Instead, she spent the time tracing her friend’s decorative markings with her fingers, her heart breaking.

  In the morning, she rose and stretched, looking out to the grassy plains. The rakau tipua had vanished, but she was sure Rakau would be able to find them once she gave him the time.

  “Well,” she said, “I feel much better now.” This was a lie. Her shoulder ached more than any pain she had ever known, but she was confident it would mend in time, although would leave an unsightly scar. “It’s time I left, then.”

  Rakau, who until this moment had been lazily shifting on the ground in the morning sunlight, sat up, looking at her questioningly.

  “Well,” she answered, “you didn’t expect me to stick around forever, did you? You saw what happened yesterday - it isn’t safe for me here. I have a life I need to get back to, my music. Looks like you might have a life here too.”

  Rakau looked briefly over the long plains, but then looked back at Kaimana, longing in his eyes. The fact that Rakau did not want to give Kaimana up made her spark sing joyfully. However, Kaimana kept her face rigid. She did not want her own emotions to cloud Rakau’s judgement.

  She shook her head. “I know, I’ll miss you too. But this is for the best, I think. Guess Leinani was right. Taniwha and humans can’t ever be friends. She got the reason wrong, though. We’re fine together, it’s the rest of the world that has a problem with us.”

  She gathered herself, rolled her shoulder, and looked up with determination.

  “I know you have to find them again, but it’s not safe on this island for me. Will you see me back to the canoe, back to the beach?”

  The journey was uneventful, other than Kaimana’s continued surprise at the variety of monsters they encountered. What made this trip less pleasurable, however, was the air of sadness between the two friends. When they had travelled through the jungle yesterday they had not spoken much, but their body language together had been full of playfulness, of Rakau’s bright eyes when Kaimana had exclaimed at each new sight. Now both were quiet, plodding along past each creature that they met.

  When they arrived back at the canoe, Kaimana gave a silent prayer to Laka that their parting would go smoothly.

  “Well, goodbye then,” she muttered, and gave the monstrous taniwha a big hug. Kaimana walked away from Rakau and began to push her canoe into the water. Rakau waded into the water with her.

  She turned to look at the taniwha accusingly.

  “No, you stay here. That was the whole point of this trip, to get you somewhere safe. You’ve found other taniwha like you, now. This is where you belong.”

  Rakau walked up to Kaimana and nudged her with his large muzzle, and started plodding further into the sea. As he did so, Kaimana caught sight of his ruined hide again. When she had first met him, Rakau had been perfect - unblemished by any previous encounters that he might have had. In the short time they had been together this had changed, through encounters with Nakoa and his men, the Birdmen of Broken Island, and the various taniwha attacks. What had once been art on his skin was now destroyed, and Kaimana realised that if he continued to travel with her, back on the Atoll, things would only be worse.

  “No,” she shouted, as angry as she could make her voice sound. “You have to stay. You stay, and I go.”

  Rakau completely ignored her now, moving forwards into the waves. At the same time, Kaimana was both happy that she meant so much to him, but also furious at what he was forcing her to do.

  “I don’t want you to come back with me. This is it for me. We had fun, I got my spark and my song, but I don’t want to see you anymore.”

  Rakau stopped and turned back to look at her. There was clear pain in his eyes. She felt herself relenting, wanting to apologise for her harsh words. Then Kaimana realised that if she relented now, he would never agree to stay on the island.

  Also, a big part of what Kaimana had said was true, or at least it had been in the beginning. The only reason she had started travelling with Rakau was to find her spark again. She had been selfish, encouraging him to adventure with her to feed her storyteller’s curiosity.

  He has to believe that’s still the truth, so he can stay on this island and be safe.

  Kaimana made her face grow cold. “Why would I want to be around you anymore? I had a good life before you were in it. I was part of a troupe, I could play my music. Since we’ve met I’ve been attacked almost every day. More crazy peo
ple and creatures have tried to kill me than I can count.

  “Just look at my bloody shoulder. Who wants a life with fish monsters trying to snack on you? You are bad for me, taniwha. Just like the volcano god tried to tell me, we can’t be friends.”

  Rakau fully turned around now, the sorrow plain in his eyes. He moved towards Kaimana, whining, pleading with her.

  Now was time for the final blow.

  “Stop making that noise, you stupid animal. Gods, I cannot wait to have an actual conversation with someone. Now I have my song, I can stop wasting my time with you.”

  At that moment, Kaimana realised she might have pushed Rakau too far.

  Rakau’s eyes changed, narrowed, and grew angry. He roared at Kaimana, and for the first time in weeks, Kaimana looked into her friend’s face and she knew fear, her spark shrinking back from the taniwha’s rage. Rakau reared up on his hind legs, and for a moment she thought he would come crashing down on top of her, crushing her for her insolence.

  Rakau’s feet impacted just in front of her, sending a wave of water crashing over Kaimana and her canoe, knocking her under the surf.

  Is this what Leinani meant? she thought as she struggled to find purchase under the water. Is Rakau going to let me go without killing me?

  When Kaimana surfaced and cleared her eyes, it was just in time to see her closest friend running across the beach, disappearing into the jungle and out of her life.

  She had saved Rakau from a life of being hunted and attacked, at the cost of never having him as a friend again.

  Inside, her spark gave out a low, keening wail, urging her to go after Rakau.

  Instead, eyes obscured by tears, Kaimana pulled the canoe into the ocean and began the long journey of travelling back to the Atoll by herself.

  A tale from the Crescent Atoll

  This is the story of a young girl called Mereana, and of how she met her end by not listening to the advice of her elders.

  Mereana lived on a large island that was home to three villages. In the centre of the island was a watering hole, and in this watering hole lay a taniwha.

  This beast’s lair was well known to the people of the island. In ages past, the men of the island had struck a deal with the taniwha. They would not bother it, and it would not bother them. They would live in harmony. A number of conditions to this agreement had been decided upon. The taniwha had promised it would not show its face close to the villages. It would not disturb nor strike fear into the hearts of the people of the island. In turn, the taniwha had demands of its own. It had originally asked that none of the people of the island came close to the water hole it had claimed for its home. The men and women of the villages had disagreed mightily against this request, as the water hole was a favourite place for the people of the island to bathe in. The taniwha eventually relented on this part of the bargain, but declared that nobody should bathe there at night, as that was when the taniwha was awake. The taniwha also asked that none of the villagers disturb or eat the bright red flowers of the raka tree that grew near the water hole, as this was the taniwha’s favourite food.

  The agreement was made, and so taniwha and man lived together peacefully for many years.

  One day, a thirteen year old girl named Mereana travelled to the water hole to bathe. Her mother and grandmother had protested against her leaving. They knew Mereana was a wilful girl, and would often get herself into trouble. They did not, however, fear the taniwha of the water hole. Indeed, many of the villagers did not believe the taniwha existed, or thought that it had long ago left the island. The taniwha had kept so well to its agreement that none had seen its face since the night the promise had first been given.

  Mereana travelled by herself to the water hole, stripped bare and dipped into the water. She cleaned herself and, sure that none were there to watch her, she lay naked on a large rock, basking in the sun, enjoying the quiet of the day.

  It was then that Mereana’s eyes fell upon the red flowers that hung high over the water hole. She licked her lips at the sight of the blossoms, and of the promise of the nectar they held within them. Mereana had, like all of the children on the island, been brought up knowing the story of these red flowers, but as Mereana had never seen nor heard any evidence that the story of the taniwha was true, she paid it little attention.

  Hand by hand, foot by foot, Mereana climbed to the top of the raka tree. There, she plucked the first red flower and poured its sweet nectar onto her tongue. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever tasted, and she was pleased with herself for finding this secret treat. She spent the entire day up in that tree, picking flowers and sucking the nectar from them, letting the drained blossoms fall onto the deep water hole below her.

  If Mereana had been an observant girl, she might have noticed a disturbance in the water below. The surface rippled, and small bubbles rose in steady bursts, as if some unseen creature was angry, but unwilling to surface.

  This unwillingness to appear changed, however, when night fell on the island, and greedy Mereana still remained in the raka tree, sipping the nectar from the final red flower.

  Mereana first became aware that something was wrong when the water beneath began to glow red. She was rooted with fear when she saw the taniwha emerge from its cave, the angry glow from its eyes illuminating the watering hole. This taniwha most resembled a giant cat, but instead of fur the beast was covered in fish scales. It eyed the young girl who had stolen all of its flowers, and began to purr.

  “Do you know who I am, little girl?”

  Mereana nodded, her bottom lip quivering. She knew the price she was going to have to pay.

  “Do you know why you must be punished?”

  Mereana nodded again.

  “I will make this quick, and then balance will be restored to the island.”

  Mereana closed her eyes and the taniwha gently lowered its jaws onto her neck.

  The girl’s body was never found, but when her family went to look for her the following day they saw the taniwha’s pool with the drained red flowers floating upon it, and they knew what their little girl had done.

  She should have been scared by the trip she was making. Only a day ago, Kaimana had been terrified by the idea of travelling the Outer Sea on the back of Rakau. Now, rowing herself slowly across the waves, she was not thinking of the potential dangers she was braving on this journey.

  She was alone, now. She had lost Rakau, the closest friend she had ever had. Everyone else in her life had had some kind of expectations for her - her parents and sister pushing her to develop a Knack that she was not interested in having, her troupe and kahuna wanting her to play her best, or in Eloni’s case just wanting her to get out of her way. With Rakau it had been different. He had enjoyed being around her, and she had enjoyed being with him. He had expected nothing of her, except to share time together travelling the Atoll.

  When Kaimana had begun this journey, her main aim had been to find herself a song worth playing, to allow herself to rise in the ranks of the storytellers of the Atoll. She had her song now. Her spark - unusually silent and mourning - was almost finished, but as her heart was quietly breaking, Kaimana could care less about tales of potato gods and fish monsters.

  The first peak in the distance was that of Leinani’s volcano. Kaimana had hoped she had been travelling in the correct direction to get back home, and despite her grief, she was pleased at the familiar sight.

  It was during this stage of brief relief that the monster attacked.

  She should have realised the possibility of this happening. It was the same taniwha that had attacked them before, the shark, but on the journey to the island Rakau had seen it off. Now Kaimana was alone, and had no chance.

  Luckily for Kaimana, the first blow to the canoe did not break it or topple it. She was able to look over the side to see the tip of the taniwha’s massive fin dipping back under the water. Despite the darkness of the open sea, it was clear to Kaimana that a massive creature was now submerged beneath her
. She looked about, desperately. There was nothing out there to save her. Without her taniwha, without any land nearby she could hope to escape to, Kaimana was doomed.

  The attacks continued for the next three hours. Kaimana was terrified, but she was also tired.

  When the monster had first let itself be known, she had assumed that death would be quick. However, unlike the fish monsters that had attacked her on the island, this creature appeared to have more of an active mind, and Kaimana quickly found that mind to be cruel. Instead of splitting open her vessel and eating her, this creature seemed to be enjoying toying with her, knocking her canoe and frightening her before eventually killing her. A glimpse of the creature’s red eyes under the water accompanied by its wide, white grin sealed Kaimana’s theory - the taniwha was enjoying prolonging her death.

  It had grown dark now, the waters being only illuminated by moon and star light. This made it much more difficult for Kaimana to see the beast under the water, allowing each eventual impact to rock her that much more. The times between each nudge increased greatly, and Kaimana realised the creature was wanting her to feel that it had lost interest, to give her the ghost of the hope that today was not her day to die. She hated the screams that she gave every time the canoe rocked and she fell from her seat, but she also suspected the joy of hearing these screams was all that kept the shark from finishing her off, and so she did nothing to quell them. Her sole consolation was the change in her spark’s attitude to danger. It was clearly still afraid, and had been noticeably quieter since the taniwha’s attacks began, yet its light continued to burn strong. There was no hint of it fleeing, yet.