by Matt Larkin
“Uh, huh. So, to which king or queen do you swear to, anyway?”
“That was direct,” Ioane mumbled. Like being indirect was some kind of shitting virtue or something.
“Hāmākua remains loyal to Queen Poli‘ahu, of course.”
Kama clapped his hands. “Wonderful! Glad to hear that.” Having her followers here might make it easier to find and kill her. “And, uh … if I wanted to pledge my incorrigible loyalty to her royal frostiness, would I find her up on the mountain?”
“Yes, she returned some time ago.”
Kama clapped his hands again and winked at the man. Winking often set people at ease. Back when Kamapua‘a had still lived at Waimea, he’d used winks to get out of trouble when he’d broken some stupid tabu like shitting in someone’s house. A good wink, and the shitter would stand there mouth open, struck speechless by Kama’s magmanamity. “So, about that feast?”
CHIEF TUA DIDN’T THROW them a luau. Or a feast. He did, however, have a large pig roasted. Kama choose not to take that as a veiled insult on account of the man probably not knowing who or what he was. And also on account of the pork being shitting delicious.
The chief did agree to trade some supplies for some tapa cloth they’d brought from Kaua‘i. Taken from old Haki’s villages, of course, but Tua didn’t need to hear the details about that.
As it turned out, one of the kupua women from across the Worldsea had come here, too. Pele, they called her, a flame kupua who was also challenging Poli‘ahu. A potential ally?
Sitting with his men by a bonfire, Kama wiped his greasy hands on his malo. “See, now we know Poli‘ahu is up on her mountain.”
“You still have no plan,” Ioane said.
“Sure I do. I climb the mountain. I solve the problem. I … uh … well, that’s the whole plan anyway. I mean other than coming back down the mountain.”
Ioane shook his head. “You sound like an idiot.”
“Sounds can be deceiving. Sometimes I even deceive myself. Once, I tricked myself into thinking I was stupid. Then I realized I was sleeping. So I farted.”
Two of the men chuckled. Kama decided then and there, those two were worthy of him learning their names. Only problem was, one of them had been with him for at least a year, and learning his name would mean admitting he hadn’t known it until now.
Some men might find that insulting.
Ioane leaned in close, saving Kamapua‘a the trouble. “This place has only a handful of warriors. We could storm in, take whatever we need, and deprive Poli‘ahu of her supporters in the process.”
Kamapua‘a grunted. “Nah. She might hear about it and be on her guard.”
“She’s going to be on guard anyway. Men from all across Sawaiki are trying to kill her! Drawing her down off the mountain will give you a better chance to overcome her.”
Well that made sense. On the other hand … “I saw you looking at that girl anyway,” Kama said to Ioane. “You want her, just go ask her. No need for slaughter and rape and shit. It’s rude.”
“Right. Like none of us have seen you massacre dozens of people and rape five women in one night.”
Oh. That wasn’t Kamapua‘a. That was the Boar God, and Kama had never much liked how he felt afterward. Like he had an eel in his gut.
Sometimes, if the Boar God got too angry, he couldn’t stop it from coming to the surface. That, and on full moons, the god was overpowering. But Kama had never told the others he couldn’t control himself.
Not even a wink would reassure men who heard their leader got possessed by a god from time to time.
Kamapua‘a cleared his throat. “Here’s what’s what. I don’t want you starting any raids or fights or shit while I’m gone. Set up in the valley, away from people, a nice camp out in the woods. I’m gonna go kill a queen, and then we all go home heroes.”
Now Ioane frowned. “The men want some plunder. It’s been hard to come by of late, and Kana will hardly blame us for raiding a village belonging to his enemies.”
Ah. Shit. Another good point.
Always a problem when the men had points. It just made things more complicated.
“You realize these people just fed us and gave us a place to stay the night?”
“Which gave us the chance to get the layout of the village and a count of their warriors. Enough to know we can do this tomorrow night. Best case, Poli‘ahu comes down to fight you for it. Worst case, she’s distracted while you hunt her.”
Kama found himself missing Makani. Ioane was kind of a shitter. But he was a smart shitter. Almost as smart as Kamapua‘a. Finally, Kama scratched his head. “All right, then. Prep the raid for tomorrow night.”
He’d led plenty of raids himself against Haki’s people. But this, now … well, it had that eel feeling in his gut again.
17
N amaka sighed and settled down on a bed of kelp gathered in a rock alcove. It was soft and a bit slimy, but felt cool against her skin. She had returned to her grotto in Dakuwaqa Estate to wait.
While Nyi Rara had sent Tilafaiga as an envoy to Ukupanipo ‘Ohana, the other ‘ohana had refused to meet until after sunset. This seemed to surprise Nyi Rara very little. Indeed, Namaka, too, had often heard that all denizens from beyond Pō disdained the sunlight.
Some few are adapted to its harsh rays … Most from the Otherworlds are weakened by sunlight, to varying degrees. Mer adherence to the night is partly custom and partly practical.
Oh, so now Nyi Rara was talking to her again, pretending as if they had not nearly gotten each other killed.
You never cease vexing me, mortal. If you push me far enough, I’ll destroy you.
No. Nyi Rara couldn’t afford to lose another host, much less surrender the chance at Namaka’s power. They were stuck with one another.
The mermaid growled in her mind, a wordless rage seeping into Namaka, as if Nyi Rara considered eating her. Biting herself, Namaka supposed. She understood that wrath all too well. What if … could it work the other way around? Could the mermaid spirit be brought under Namaka’s control?
You arrogant, insufferable wretch! Defy me, and I shall feed your body to the Elder Deep!
Namaka had no idea what that meant. Other than another idle threat. And she’d begun to tire of Nyi Rara’s impotent tantrums.
Tantrums … Impotent?
Of its own accord, Namaka’s hand suddenly seized up a coral knife. She willed it to stop, but the blade drew closer and closer to her neck. No. No, no, no. Nyi Rara would never destroy her own host. It had taken her a decade to claim this one. She could never—
It’s time you learn there are limits to the insolence I’ll tolerate, mortal.
The blade bit down, carved a shallow but ragged gouge as Nyi Rara drew it along the side of Namaka’s neck, perilously close to her gills. Down, into her collarbone. White pain flashed before Namaka’s eyes. She tried to scream but not even her mouth obeyed her. The mermaid bored into the bone with the knife, and the waters turned pink, thick with blood. The scent of it both revolted and intoxicated, driving Namaka into a sudden desire to ravage prey and devour it whole.
Writhing on the seabed, she rolled off the kelp, unable to filter between hunger, agony, rage, and lust.
Then the pressure eased, and Nyi Rara left her there, gasping, gills flapping painfully.
Submit or I shall wreak far worse suffering upon you.
The mermaid’s voice sounded far away. Strained. Fatigued from the effort of enforcing her will against Namaka. So … she could do so, albeit only temporarily.
Groaning, Namaka pushed herself up off the seabed. When she looked up, Taema was there, cringing, eyes wide.
Craven weakling, held afloat by the grace of her sister.
Taema and Tilafaiga were close?
One is a shark and the other is an anemone.
“What do you want?” Namaka asked.
“I smelled blood.” Her shark teeth had descended. For that matter, so had Namaka’s. An automatic response. “Yo
u’re injured.”
“A disagreement with my host.” Namaka winced, realizing Nyi Rara had managed to use her mouth to say that.
Taema’s eyes grew wider still. “The mortal challenges you?”
Oh. And what would Nyi Rara tell the other mermaid? That their precious princess was still too weak to control anyone? Or that they had chosen a host too powerful to completely possess.
Be silent!
No. Nyi Rara knew the price. Anything less than partnership, and they were both damned to Pō.
“What do you do for Dakuwaqa ‘Ohana?” Namaka asked Taema.
“What do I …?” The mermaid glanced over her shoulder. “You’re the host!”
Hmm, and should Namaka herself reveal Nyi Rara’s weakness? How would the princess handle that?
What do you think happens to you if they find out? I’ll be sent back to my world and you’ll be drowned and eaten.
“I am. We are in discourse.”
Discourse … you are in impudent rebellion against a deity!
Namaka struggled not to roll her eyes at that. “So, you were telling me about your role in Dakuwaqa.”
“Uh … I …” Taema swam a little closer. “My sister and I are the tattoo artists for the Dakuwaqan Rangers.”
Tattoos?
Nyi Rara groaned in her mind.
A means of harnessing and containing additional mana, in this case to create more potent warriors. An ancient application of the Art, preserved only through a select few practitioners. Each ‘ohana has their school of the Art, and among Dakuwaqa, the tattoo Arts reign. The Art itself is the study of the conjunction of the natural and the supernatural. The secret, mutable aspects of reality. In the most vulgar of terms, you might call it magic.
Mahalo. Not so hard, after all. Besides which, Namaka was kupua, trained by a mo‘o. She knew of the Art, even if she herself was no sorceress.
But others are. You must never underestimate Kuula ‘Ohana for that reason. Aiaru has the Sight and can perceive things hidden to others. Further, they use forbidden rituals to maintain their power. The Ukupanipo priests disdain such acts and castigate Kuula for it. Nevertheless …
Nevertheless, expediency maintains a throne. A queen had to do what a queen had to do.
The queen cannot deny us access to the Urchin, which Ukupanipo controls. However, she will not want to consult the Urchin because it can bestow glimpses of the Sight upon even those not possessing it, thus negating her advantage.
“My princess?” Taema asked.
“Hmm, yes. What exactly can these tattoos do?”
“Well, they are restricted in use to Rangers who have passed the Deep Ordeal.”
Namaka smiled. “An evasion.”
Taema lowered her eyes.
Leave her be. As she said, the tattoos allow the Rangers to store additional mana. They also allow them to harness it to move faster, hit harder, and survive injuries that might otherwise incapacitate them. Such things hold little bearing on our current situation.
If Dakuwaqa had the Rangers, why wasn’t that enough to seize power?
Because an open revolt, high treason, would invite retribution from Ukupanipo as well as Kuula. We cannot hope to overcome both ‘ohanas at the same time, even if we could overcome the queen’s dark Art. Thus, we work in secret to elevate ourselves.
And Namaka could help. If Nyi Rara would agree to her price.
Gods do not bargain with mortals for their rights!
Namaka reached over and stroked Taema’s cheek, and the mermaid shuddered. “It’s fine. I’m fine. You can go now.”
The girl had barely left before Ake swam into Namaka’s grotto. “The High Priestess Ophualakoa has agreed to meet with you now.”
“Lead the way.”
Ake turned and guided her back to Kuula Palace, and then deep into its heart.
They passed through halls winding in a maze that reminded her of the intricate reefs around the city. Actually, that was probably intentional.
Nyi Rara forced her down, though, and Namaka decided not to fight, still curious about this Urchin.
She, or rather Nyi Rara, followed Ake until they came to a circular chamber with a gorge down its center. The merman commander twirled his tail and Nyi Rara returned the gesture.
Then she slowly descended into the gorge. Those wisp lights had illuminated the chamber above, but they barely reached into this chasm, and the deeper they dove, the darker it grew. Her eyes, she found, had become superhumanly adapted to darkness, in addition to having that nictitating membrane to protect them. Perhaps night vision was a necessity for those who swam the depths. Eventually, however, the passage grew so dark even she could make out little.
Nyi Rara began guiding herself downward with a hand on either side of the increasingly narrow gorge. Just when Namaka began to suspect they would meet the priestess in total darkness, a faint glow appeared ahead, emanating from a tunnel through the gorge’s side wall.
The mermaid followed this tunnel, revealing some kind of bioluminescent algae clinging to the tunnel’s sides. The light it cast was so faint a human would have struggled to see, but Namaka’s new eyes adapted quickly.
The tunnel wound around a bend before finally opening into a chamber at least as large as the queen’s throne room had been. Maybe larger. This place, however, had the scent and taste of eternity. The chamber roof rose a hundred feet above her, but its floor—which dropped down an unseen distance beneath her—was dominated by a sea urchin so vast a whale could have impaled itself on one of the spines. Those spines were an iridescent mix of purples, reds, and blacks, a forest filling this cavern.
The creature pulsated with an Otherworldly light, its movements barely perceptible, but so clearly alive. Namaka could feel the mana wafting off it, suffusing the chamber and seeping up through the layers of rock, feeding the city above.
Nyi Rara twirled her tail at the Urchin and Namaka found herself unable to form any other thought save to mentally do the same. This creature was ancient, perhaps timeless. As Nyi Rara entered the chamber, the Urchin’s mana hit Namaka like a gale, threatening to blow over her mind, even as her body basked in its awesome glory. It was like drinking in pure joy, life itself. And that life was self-perpetuating, an all-consuming love of existence that seeped in through her scales and gills and pores.
She felt drunk on awa.
So enthralled with the Urchin, she barely noticed the other woman approaching until the mermaid drew within a few paces of her. This one, like Aiaru, was covered head to tail in scales, and they seemed to radiate a faint bioluminescence of their own. Her hair flew about the chamber wild, unkempt, seeming almost forgotten. Probably it was, given the wide-eyed look this mermaid had. Her hands were totally webbed, ending in claws, and massive fins sprouted from her side. An ancient mermaid, become more spirit than human.
Nyi Rara twirled her tail again. “Priestess Opuhalakoa. Mahalo for meeting me.”
“It has been too long, young one.” The priestess flashed a wry grin as if looking at something beyond sight, beyond the understanding of mere mortals.
I am not a mortal.
Maybe not, but Namaka suspected not even Nyi Rara knew the secrets—or madness—this mermaid had glimpsed. That was it, wasn’t it? Humans thought spirits all powerful. Compared to mankind, she supposed they were. But they didn’t know everything about the universe either. No, even among their kind, some studied the Art. Some knew more than others.
The priestess placed a hand on Namaka’s face, then clucked her tongue. “Strong host. Willful, hopeful … unbroken.”
“The strangest host I’ve ever taken.”
“Perhaps your most valuable. But I assume you wish to pay homage to the Urchin.”
“I must have answers.”
Opuhalakoa didn’t move, but somehow, her body seemed to interpose itself further between Nyi Rara and the sea creature. “It is not for you, young one.”
“Surely there is something you wish that you might be
persuaded to barter for.”
The priestess tapped a webbed finger to the side of her cheek. “You know, I trust that reality is held together by the roots of the Great Tree, Uekera. The eldest believe the Urchin rises from the Tree itself, an outgrowth of it, binding past, present, and future and thus serving as an instrument of fate.”
Nyi Rara lowered her head, perhaps unable to think of a worthy response.
What was this Great Tree?
The Tree of Life. The World Tree.
World Tree? With roots holding reality together. Wait, did that mean that the roots she’d seen by the Waters of Life were—
Opuhalakoa gave her little time to consider that thought. “What is it you think you can offer, princess?”
“You ate my father.”
A sad smile answered her. “We consecrated him to the Elder Deep after he was convicted of treason. Why do you think Mu lost control of the taniwha? Rather, why did Dakuwaqa ‘Ohana lose them, lose the he‘e, lose all your power and create the Sundering? Why, even now, are fragments of our once glorious empire struggling to conquer our city? Because of you and your ‘ohana, princess.”
“I wasn’t even born.”
“Nevertheless, Dakuwaqa ruled Mu and you thought yourselves so far removed from the Elder Deep that the sacrifices dwindled. The worship faded. The belief eroded. And without faith in the Fathomless One, our connection to Avaiki weakened. We lost everything because of Dakuwaqa. That falls in your wake, whether you were born or not. ‘Ohana is everything. After faith.”
Nyi Rara shook her head. “You were a part of Dakuwaqa back then.”
Opuhalakoa glowered at her.
“Oh, is that not true?”
“Ukupanipo broke away because of the failings of—”
“Your ‘ohana. It was, at the time in which you claim we were failing, your ‘ohana, far more than mine, considering I did not exist. It stands to reason more of the blame falls beneath your fins than mine.”
What did Nyi Rara hope to gain through antagonizing this priestess?