by Joanna Orwin
Taka couldn’t bring himself to smile at the unconscious irony of Kai’s words. He said bleakly, ‘Aren’t you forgetting the likely consequences for the Mara? What right have I to expect them to accept such a risk?’
‘Utaru himself talked about the obligations of kinship.’ Kai dismissed his protest. ‘Don’t insult the Mara by questioning their decision.’
Several more days passed, then Choi Yu left Sanctuary. His departure changed nothing. Taka continued to see the Mister and his daughter only when he performed each evening. Although Cleo watched him dance, she didn’t once meet his gaze. That was one bet Harris probably did win, he thought forlornly. At least Cleo was one complication he needn’t consider. The fire-goddess’s daughter had chewed him up and spat him out, just as the spear carriers had predicted. Conquest was all she cared about. Perhaps, after all, he should leave this place where so much darkness lay under the bright surface. Perhaps it was arrogant to think he was being singled out by the gods as a dancer. He should accept that his destiny was the same as that of his companions — and return home with them as a hero, bringing Kahu’s sacred food plants as the portents interpreted by the Wise Ones had signified.
Then, not long after he decided to stick with Utaru’s escape plan, relieved he’d kept his companions unaware that he had been contemplating otherwise, the Mister’s daughter sent Thorssen to fetch him. Taka saw no point resisting, convinced that she no longer had any power over him. The spear carrier watched him loop the fire-jewels around his neck and rebind his hair. He shook his head, but made no comment.
But when Taka entered the now-familiar, dimly lit room, the sight of Cleo lying there waiting, her body gilded by torchlight, removed any thought of keeping his distance. Without a word, he joined her on the wide sleeping platform. As she relaxed into his touch, he explored the swell of her breast, the jut of a hipbone, the tender flesh of her inner thigh. He savoured each enchanting shape, each subtle change in texture. He murmured into the curved cradle of her shoulder, ‘I thought you’d lost interest in me.’
Cleo raised herself on her elbow and looked at him. ‘I can hardly spend every waking moment with you.’
Taka couldn’t find the words to explain how her disregard had made him feel. His mumbled protest died as she in turn traced the firm muscles of his chest, then kissed him, a deep, lingering kiss.
She said quietly, ‘I would wish it otherwise, but I’m no more a free agent than you.’ Her father had indeed betrothed her to Choi Yu. ‘I’m to be married when the rainy season comes.’
‘I guessed as much.’ Taka couldn’t help resentment colouring his reply as she ran a finger down the groove beside his nose, then along his jawline. He caught her finger and held it trapped. ‘You seemed pretty comfortable with him.’
‘I’m the Mister’s daughter. In public at least, I have no choice but to appear compliant. I hate Choi Yu. I hate my father for bartering me like some brown-skin slave.’ Cleo’s voice trembled. ‘I’d do anything to escape such a fate.’
Taka saw tears well in her eyes before she turned her head away. Relenting, he took her in his arms to comfort her. She buried her face against his chest and wept. As he held her close, the first glimmer of a wild idea formed unbidden in his head, then faded as his gentle caresses were replaced by growing urgency.
Later, as they lay dozing, their legs still entwined, she stirred and whispered, ‘If things were different, if we weren’t who we are, you and I could be together.’
Her words rekindled his earlier, fleeting idea. The voice of reason warned him he would be taking an unwarranted risk, that he wasn’t the only one whose life was at stake. His heart fought the voice of reason. Before he could stop himself, Taka said, ‘There is a way.’
‘In another world perhaps.’ She touched her fingertips to his face and sighed.
‘In another world, yes. A place far away from here.’ And he told her about the escape plan, told her everything, even the Mara’s role in it, wanting to convince her it was feasible. In his own growing conviction, his words tumbled over each other. ‘Come with me. Come with us.’
For a long moment she said nothing. Then she sighed again and took his face in her hands. ‘If only it was that simple.’
‘It is that simple,’ said Taka urgently. He pulled her close again. ‘Come with us.’
Cleo shook her head. She pushed him away, then smiled slightly, a condescending smile that said he was nothing but a foolish, dreaming boy. ‘It’s not possible. I have obligations. I’m the Mister’s daughter. I’m the fire-goddess’s daughter. This is my world.’
Taka was finding it hard to breathe, the sweat of their lovemaking suddenly clammy on his skin. Why would she throw away all she possessed — wealth, status, this life of ease? Even married to Choi Yu, she’d retain all those privileges. Why had he thought she’d throw everything away for him, a lowly dancer? Why had he considered for a single moment that she would risk a dangerous voyage across the ocean for a life as an ordinary person in the Repo swamplands? He couldn’t stop every muscle from tensing. Without a moment’s hesitation, with unthinking recklessness, he’d placed all their fates in her hands. She could betray him and his fellow Travellers. She could betray the Mara. She had nothing to lose.
Cleo sat up abruptly. She turned away from him so he couldn’t see her face. Her voice tired and flat, she said, ‘You needn’t be so fearful. Your plan’s safe with me.’
‘You’ll say nothing, even knowing what you now know?’ Taka’s mouth was dry.
‘You honoured me with your trust.’ It was the fire-goddess’s daughter who spoke. ‘Now you must trust me to be honourable.’
‘Here, I have a gift for your companions.’ Thorssen thrust a heavy, flat wooden box into Taka’s hands. ‘Go on — take a look.’
Taka obediently lifted the simple metal clasp. Inside, bedded in sockets lined with faded green cloth, lay two metal objects polished to a dull gold, one a fat disc, the other a convoluted shape, all angles and tubes. Cautiously, he fingered the cold gleaming metal. ‘What are they?’
‘Navigation aids,’ said Thorssen. He took the box from Taka and prodded the complex shape. ‘This one here’s a sextant, but I’ve no idea how you use it.’ He picked up the disc. ‘I do know about this one — it’s a compass, for finding north and south, and every angle between.’
He showed Taka how the wobbling needle swung free and demonstrated how to orientate it, north, south, east and west. ‘Both these things belonged to my ancestor who sailed here.’
Taka knew the Travellers would find the direction-finding disc invaluable, but he protested. ‘They’re family treasures — you can’t just give them away.’
‘No use to me,’ said Thorssen, closing the lid and handing the box back to Taka. ‘I’ve kept them all these years, thinking I might one day go out there on that ocean. That’s not going to happen, is it? So I’d like to think someone could use them.’
Taka suggested he should at least keep the sextant, seeing he wasn’t able to show the Travellers its purpose, but Thorssen wanted the two instruments to stay together. ‘I have no family to cherish them after me, and someone back where you come from might know more about their proper use.’
When Taka went to give the box back to Thorssen so he could deliver it to the other Travellers, receive their gratitude, the spear carrier shook his head. ‘You take it. Show them how to work the compass. You haven’t seen your mates for days. They’ll not be here much longer.’ When Taka tried to thank him he stomped off, saying gruffly over his shoulder, ‘I can’t be doing with fuss.’
Piko quickly understood the use of the compass. His face was alight with enthusiasm. ‘This is a wonderful gift. We can use it to line up stars to guide us south until we see the great cross in the night sky.’
‘By the time we reach those waters, it’ll be spring.’ Kai pointed out that they would then be accompanied by the migrating kua returning to the southern feeding grounds. ‘They’ll lead us home.’
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nbsp; ‘The gods are indeed with us,’ said Kota.
Taka nodded, painfully aware it was not just the gods they needed on their side. He resisted the temptation to confess what he’d done. If they knew he’d gambled their very lives in an attempt to please the fire-goddess’s daughter, they wouldn’t forgive him. He must carry his burden of shame and trepidation alone.
The Travellers’ preparations were complete. The newly furbished, linked canoes lay at anchor near the shore. The Mara women had woven sails for them, and the Mister had been generous in providing ample food for their journey. All they were waiting for was a favourable wind that would carry them south, homewards across the Great Ocean.
And then it was time. everyone from Sanctuary gathered on the beach. everyone except the Mister and his daughter, and Taka knew they were once again demonstrating their status, signalling that the departure of these young strangers was too trivial to warrant their participation. While the Travellers loaded the last of their possessions and did a final check of their equipment, Taka stood apart — both from his companions and from the Sanctuary crowd. They’d agreed he should do this to reinforce the pretence that he was staying behind. But the small distance between him and the Travellers yawned large in his mind. As he stood apart, he was gripped by a deep and real sense of isolation.
Drums sounded. A procession of Mara people wove its way along the terrace and down onto the beach. Dressed in their best garments, with wreaths of bright foliage binding their hair, Utaru and the others were accompanied by four children — children Taka hadn’t seen before since they were looked after at home by the old ones during the harvest. Each child was carrying a decorated calabash. He knew these contained the slips and tubers of kuma and taro, the sacred foods of Kahu. He watched as the children, their faces grave with the solemnity of the occasion, presented their calabashes, one to each of the four Travellers standing on the edge of the water near the voyaging canoe. There were four calabashes, not five, his exclusion again part of the plan. His heart began to ache with an unbidden sorrow. It wasn’t just his fellow Travellers. He’d been ready to betray these people, too; their kin on this island.
Now Matu was fastening the two woven kua salvaged from the moki to the canoe prows. The others gathered around him as he quietly, without fuss, splashed seawater on their guardian emblems. They were saying the prayer to Tanga, and Taka had to force himself not to wade out and join them. Knowing he didn’t deserve to be there with them anyway, he said the prayer under his breath, but received no sign that the god had heard him.
Almost before he could gather his wits, he was pretending to farewell his fellow Travellers. Kota gave him some small gourds filled with herbal salves. Piko nodded gravely and wished him a long life and happiness. Kai held him close and whispered in his ear that they would be waiting for him, and he couldn’t help clinging to his cousin for a long moment. Matu unexpectedly gave him a fierce hug that threatened to crack Taka’s ribs, then pushed him away roughly before turning his back and wading out to the waiting canoe. He wasn’t who they thought he was, but the farewells all felt too real.
He watched, a lump swelling in his throat, as the drums beat their departure and the Travellers took up their paddles to set off down the harbour. Further along the shore, Dyer and his team lined up on the water’s edge and lifted their voices in a rousing chant. The Travellers acknowledged them with raised paddles, then the canoe picked up speed. They didn’t look back.
Taka’s tears were real. They flowed unchecked as the Mara sang their traditional songs of farewell. They sang until the canoe dwindled in the distance; they sang long after most of Sanctuary’s inhabitants had drifted away from the beach. Then they too left, Utaru taking care not to meet Taka’s eye. He was alone, emotions he didn’t Understand churning in his stomach, his throat blocked with the sobs he choked back.
He stayed there, solitary, until nightfall, staring up the now-empty harbour. Then slowly he made his way back to his room in the spear carriers’ quarters. The wailing of the steam columns was loud in the stillness of the night, each note of lament echoing his mood. On the mountain above him, the cap of vapour glowed a sultry, black-streaked blood-red in the night, but Taka’s head was low and he didn’t register the increasing strength of the fire-goddess’s warning signs.
Taka lay on his cot, staring into the dark until his eyes burned. Time had slowed: it seemed an eternity before Sanctuary grew quiet. He waited until all he could hear was the spear carriers’ drunken snoring. He waited until the half-moon was high in the sky, casting black shadows along the narrow streets. Only then did he slip from his room, his few possessions rolled in a mat and slung over his shoulder. At the last moment, he picked up the necklace and looped it around his neck, vaguely thinking it might encourage the fire-goddess to be on his side. His heart beating painfully, he made his way cautiously through the shadows to the outskirts of Sanctuary.
As he approached the hen house, a dark figure rose from the bushes. His heart skipped a beat before he recognized Rauwai. Without a word, he followed him along the terrace, both of them taking care to remain in the shadows. Only when they had crossed the spur dividing the broad slopes above Sanctuary from the bays beyond, did Rauwai slow and turn to him.
‘Your companions are safely ashore in the cove near the harbour entrance. They’re waiting for you.’ He touched Taka on the shoulder, his voice kind and understanding. ‘You’ll be reunited with them well before dawn.’
Taka nodded. He couldn’t think of anything to say. This journey through the dark night, this escape from Sanctuary, seemed less real than the acted-out scenes of the canoe leaving. For the next few hours, he blindly followed Rauwai along faint tracks that skirted the heads of bays and climbed steeply over the intervening ridges. Random, uneasy thoughts swirled through his head, including an unexpected sense of loss. He’d not thought to leave any instructions or diagrams to encourage his boys to keep dancing. It was too soon for them to struggle on without him; he would leave no legacy on the island. The Mister’s daughter. He wished he’d been able to say farewell to Cleo, thank her for keeping her word. It was clear that the Mister had no inkling of his planned escape.
The moon was setting as Rauwai led him down the last ridge towards a cove scooped out below the knuckled cliffs that guarded the passage leading out of the harbour. He could see the double-hulled canoe at anchor close to the shore. On the beach, the embers of a fire glowed, dark figures clustered around it. Among the Mara, he recognized the familiar outlines of his fellow Travellers, his close companions, his kinsmen.
Taka slowed to a halt, suddenly overwhelmed by that same sense of isolation he’d experienced at their departure. And now he at last understood what it meant. The storm roiling in his head ebbed away. One thought remained, crystallized and clear. He knew what he had to do, he knew his true destiny.
He called urgently after Rauwai, who was already making his way down towards the beach. ‘Wait!’
When the Mara youth rejoined him, Taka said, his voice heavy, ‘I can’t do this.’
‘I don’t Understand.’ Rauwai stared at him, perplexed. ‘You’ve made it. You’re out of danger.’
Taka shook his head. He couldn’t pull all the threads of his thoughts into words. He settled for saying, ‘Apart from anything else, it’s not me who’s in danger. The Mister will know Mara helped me. There’ll be retaliations.’
‘We’re willing to take that risk.’ Rauwai made to move off again. He tried to lighten the moment. ‘Anyone would think you were a maiden balking at her wedding night.’
Taka shook his head again and stood his ground. ‘That’s not all. This is a matter of honour. I gave my word.’
Rauwai heard his determination. ‘Wait here.’
Taka waited, his mind at last empty of thought, as Rauwai reached the group around the fire and pointed up the hill to where he was standing. He saw the Travellers scramble to their feet, gesticulating, and heard their shouts of protest and denial, faint at this dist
ance. Utaru physically restrained Kai from heading up the hill, then set out alone to climb the slope towards him. He had no qualms. This was the right decision. It felt right, real. His actions alone had led to his predicament and it was up to him to pay the price. He touched the fire-jewel necklace, then stroked the familiar shapes of the amulets in his waist pouch. The fire-goddess had won this battle, but maybe this was what the gods had intended all along. He was meant to stay here, on the island. No one, not even someone of Utaru’s stature, could now persuade him otherwise.
Grave-faced, Utaru listened to him speak, followed his reasoning without interrupting. He watched Taka with those dark eyes that had reminded him of his father. Taka didn’t talk for long.
When he finished, the Mara leader glanced at the fire-jewel necklace. ‘All my instincts tell me your life will be in danger if you stay.’
‘My destiny is in the hands of the gods. I know that now.’ Taka’s hand strayed to the necklace and he felt its heat against his skin.
Utaru flinched and made a demon-averting gesture. ‘There’s nothing I can say to persuade you otherwise?’
‘Nothing.’ Taka hesitated, then made up his mind. ‘But there’s Something you could do for me.’ He took the wrapped god stick from his waist pouch, Tanga’s god stick, and handed it to him. If Tanga’s help was needed, Matu would know when to use the god stick. He knew there was no point asking for it to be given to Kai, and felt a deep pang of sorrow. ‘Give this to Matu — he’ll have better use for it than me.’
Utaru held the god stick in his hands, then looked at Taka. ‘It could protect you here.’
‘I have no need of it.’
The Mara leader heard the conviction in his voice. ‘I have no choice but to respect your decision. Your people won’t forget the sacrifice you’re making for them. Your companions will make sure of that.’ He touched his nose to Taka’s, mingled their breath, his hands resting on the young man’s shoulders.