by Matt Larkin
And just how was she supposed to battle such a monstrosity in the first place? She’d thrown her full might at it and not even managed to annoy it. Could she bring it down with a water lance like Nyi Rara used on the he’e?
Doing that rendered you unconscious. And that was against a creature your own size. How do you propose we generate enough force to penetrate those scales?
Well, she wasn’t about to give up. She had to warn her people.
They’ll know.
A sick feeling bubbled up in her stomach. As the taniwha drew near land, it would rise toward the surface. Its enormous bulk and uncanny speed would disrupt the sea around it, creating a tsunami sweeping toward Hamoa Village.
Someone would see it. She could only pray they’d all ran inland, flee the coming wave toward the relative shelter of the mountains. They couldn’t know what would follow was worse. Beeyond any act of nature—or, perhaps it was nature in its purest, most wrathful form. The rage of the deep.
And it was headed for the people she cared most for.
Maybe Nyi Rara was right. Maybe she would only exhaust herself by using her power to move faster. But she had to. She had to get there before the wave wiped out what little was left of her home. She owed them that. She summoned jets of water to her hands, jerked them behind herself, and propelled her body forward even faster than she had done to reach Hiyoya. Everything blurred around her as she finally broke out in front of the taniwha.
Her breath came in pants that stung her still-raw throat. She glanced over her shoulder to see the creature glaring at her, increasing its own speed as if intent on catching her. Swallowing her up like a late supper. Or maybe no more than a small snack.
Namaka screamed, expending even more energy to fling herself farther out ahead. Just a little more. A few hundred paces more and she’d be there, be at her village.
And what will you do then?
She had no idea. Somehow, she’d buy her people time to escape. That was her duty as their Princess. It was the least—and sadly, probably the most—she could do for them. If the taniwha ate her, her people couldn’t even consume her flesh and take back her mana. But none of that would matter if they all died today.
As the beach neared, Namaka launched herself upward, flinging herself from the sea as she had done to board Pasikole’s ship. She landed a dozen paces away from the sea in a crouch.
Much of the village had probably gone to sleep, but a man shouted at her arrival.
“Run!” she screamed at the people. “Run to the mountains! Run and find Mo-O-Inanea.”
Namaka spun back to the sea. The foreign ship was nowhere to be seen, but the great wave rose, rushing forward. It would sweep over the village before they had gotten far enough away.
“Help me now, Nyi Rara.” The mermaid princess offered no answer, only a vague sensation of hesitation. Damn it. Damn her. “I fought to save your people! Now fight to save mine!”
There was only the barest hesitation more.
I am with you.
Namaka spread her arms wide, palms facing the onrushing sea, and sent her soul out onto it.
Break.
She fed all of herself into that thought.
Break!
She screamed with effort, touching the ocean with her soul, pouring her mana into it, and turning it back on itself. Even in her mind she screamed, her thoughts nothing more than a primal desire to defy fate. To hold back the sea, turn the tide, and stand against the inevitable.
The wave twisted, breaking in the wrong direction and falling backward in a cacophony that almost covered the taniwha’s roar of rage. The wave tossed the creature upside down and spun it around, before it broke through the surface a moment later, roaring once again.
But the wave had lost its momentum, and a mere high tide rushed forward to soak her shins. Namaka fell to her knees, suddenly unable to stand. Just offshore, the taniwha reared itself up in dark silhouette against the moon. Its rage seemed to shake the island itself.
ow it looked at her. Suddenly she was no longer a nuisance beneath its notice.
“Let Milu feast on your soul,” Namaka spat through gritted teeth. She had nothing left. Not even the strength to rise from her knees.
She might die this night, but at least she had turned back the tsunami, had bought her people time to flee. Without the ocean, they were doomed, powerless to feed themselves, to stand against raiders … Except there weren’t going to be raiders. This taniwha would wreck all of Sawaiki and leave it ripe for the he’e to enslave all the islands. But she had done everything she could.
The dragon reared back, clearly intent on swallowing her and a good chunk of the beach with her.
“Choke on a crab, ghostfucker,” she mumbled.
“Namaka!” The bellow reached her just before Kamapua’a collided with her, swept her up in his arms, and kept running.
The dragon’s maw impacted an instant later, indeed taking a chunk out of the beach. Kam had healed already, gods be praised. Even burdened with her in his arms, the wereboar ran faster than most humans could ever manage, tearing up a trail of wet sand in his wake. Impossible though it seemed, Kam’s muscles seem to grow, tightening, until he was a bounding force of nature himself.
The dragon roared and whipped its tail around to impede their way. Kamapua’a actually jumped over the tail, clearing an impossible distance. The taniwha’s tail slammed into the boardwalk, sending every remaining house in Hamoa Village crashing into the ocean, reduced to kindling. Men and women ran screaming while others plummeted into the sea. One woman froze in fear, staring at her impending doom. Namaka looked away just before the taniwha’s jaws clamped down on the victim.
Kam landed with a thud and immediately took off running again, this time toward the jungle and Mo-O’s cave where the rest of the village was already retreating. Namaka glanced back over his shoulder to see the taniwha, bellowing with wrath and continuing to smash the driftwood that had once been her people’s homes.
It placed one enormous foot on land, glaring at them. Then it turned and dove back into the water. In the moonlight it was hard to tell, but it looked to be swimming around the island.
And then she knew. She might have escaped for a moment, but the creature was going to destroy every village on the Valley Isle. And when it finished here, what was next? Probably the Big Isle, it was closest. Then the Pineapple Isle, and each and every island across Sawaiki. The he’e wanted to rule the seas, and to do that they could deny humanity access to the ocean. It would cut them off from one another and their primary food source, ensure they remained nothing but tiny, powerless tribes.
What few of them survived.
Most of the villagers sat spread across Mo-O’s valley, fearing to draw too near the cave. Many probably feared Mo-O, though the old dragon had never been anything but a guardian of this island and its people. They feared her because she was different, because she had powers they didn’t understand.
Dozens of people were wounded and dozens more lost entirely. Those who could walk were busy tending to the wounded, gathering wood for fires, or searching the jungle for fruits. Their homes were lost. All the food they had, gone. The taniwha had taken everything.
Namaka’s mother lay against the cave wall, her face drawn and a chill sweat dribbling down her neck. Even she had seemed nervous when they brought her in here, but Namaka had insisted.
Namaka brushed the hair from her mother’s face.
Her mother waved her off. “I’m fine. We have bigger problems, I just need some rest.”
She was right about that—they had an enormous problem. And Namaka didn’t have the first idea how to fight off the taniwha. Even if the mer of Hiyoya would have helped—maybe they would—they were engaged in war with the he’e. Nyi Rara, sadly, remained silent on the matter. Namaka had known using the mermaid to harness that much power would probably drive her into a torpor once again. It seemed unavoidable that one of them always had to pay that price.
Eithe
r way, the people of the Valley Isle were on their own against this threat. And what were they to do? Throw spears at the monstrous dragon? From the look of it, no weapon they had would come close to piercing its scales. The behemoth was powerful beyond anything her people could ever hope to fight.
Namaka rose to go, but her mother called her name and she turned back. From a bundle behind her, her mother drew out her father’s feather cloak. “I think he’d want you to have this.”
Namaka reached a trembling hand for it, stroked the soft feathers. But … even were she not a mermaid, it was not kapu. As a Princess, she was more than a chief. More, but different. Finally, she dropped her hand and shook her head. “It’s not meant for me. When this is all over, we’ll have to find a new chief.”
Her mother sighed, but nodded, shutting her eyes, and Namaka left her to rest.
She had always looked to Mo-O for direction, guidance. At the moment, though, the dragon seemed as lost as anyone else, watching Namaka. As if she had some kind of answer.
“What do I do?” she whispered, trying not to let any of the others hear her doubt. They all seemed to think she could save them. She was, after all, their Princess.
“You may have hard choices ahead of you,” the dragon answered. “It does not seem like you can do this with your power alone.”
And where was she supposed to get more? It wasn’t like she had time to go lounge in the Sacred Pools and try to soak up excess mana. And the villagers couldn’t help her, she’d already determined that. Namaka frowned. They couldn’t help her … because they had no weapons powerful enough to harm a taniwha. But there was someone who might have such weapons.
“Where is Pasikole? Where did his ship go?”
That ship was armed with those … cannons. Those weapons that rained destruction like angry gods.
“Kampaua’a said he sailed away after your scuffle with him.”
Namaka shut her eyes. Of course he had. Their best hope, and she had driven him away. Not without cause. The foreigner had helped create this disaster. And still she didn’t want him gone. What kind of madness was inside her to miss the man who had come here to kidnap her? “Pigman!”
At once, Kamapua’a rushed to her side. “I’m here, Fish Girl!”
She grimaced. Great. She’d probably never shake that nickname. “Which way did Pasikole’s ship sail?”
“Uh …” Kamapua’a drummed his lips with a finger. “He was headed for the Gathering Isle, last I heard.”
Fine. That would have to be enough. She could feel the sea, maybe she’d sense the ship disrupting it if she got close enough. “Stay here and watch over the people. Don’t let them back near the beach.”
He shrugged. “Sure. I’ll kill anyone who tries to commit suicide, no problem.”
Namaka shook her head once, then took off running back to the shore. She had to get to Pasikole. And somehow she had to convince him to return, to try to fight this sea monster. Whatever it took, she must gain his help. She dashed through the jungle and out onto the beach, then stumbled to a stop.
With the monster gone and the immediate horror passed, all that remained was carnage. Trees along the beach had been bent backward and splintered. Driftwood and debris—the last of her village—covered the shore in all directions. The people were gone, the animals fled. Everything had grown silent, save for the lapping of waves against the shore. Several dozen bodies had washed up on the beach, and others floated out in the sea. People she had known all her life—friends she had feasted with, danced with, laughed with. Bloated and lost, and since no kahuna had sent their souls away, probably doomed to become Nightmarchers. Doomed, because how could Kamalo perform the proper rituals in this situation? Or perform them for so many people at once?
After blowing out a long breath, Namaka continued down to the water’s edge and dove in, summoning her tail. She had no time to dawdle here, no time to mourn the dead, nor to send for her uncle.
Part of her longed to rush back to the camp and search him out. And still she beat her tail, surging forward. Nyi Rara had warned her using the water jets would drain her, but once again she saw no other choice. She had to reach Pasikole and every moment she took in doing so carried him and his ship farther away from the Valley Isle.
And so she summoned the jets and beat her tail, swimming on and on.
At last she felt something in the sea, displacing it, pushing it aside. It must have been near midnight before she reached the ship and launched herself aboard.
Only a handful of the crew were on deck at this hour, but a shout went up among them when she landed onboard. Namaka rose, straightening her drenched skirt. The tabu against wet clothes seemed rather pointless at the moment.
A sudden pit opened in her stomach. She had just cast herself onto their ship, far away from her home. This was what they had wanted all along, wasn’t it? To take her away. Except now she had taken control of her power. Now, Nyi Rara dwelt inside her. And at long last, she understood—understood herself and her place in the world. Anger no longer controlled her. And if these people tried to carry her anywhere against her will, she could sink this entire ship.
A moment later Pasikole stumbled out of his cabin, shirtless. He held a pistol, but lowered it when he saw her. The man opened his mouth, but didn’t seem to know what he wanted to say. He just stared at her as she approached.
Namaka started to bite her lip, then stopped. She needed to seem strong, in command. Everything depended on her convincing Pasikole to come fight the benthic monster now threatening Sawaiki. And that meant she needed to be more than Namaka. She needed to be the Princess of the Valley Isle, the Princess of Sea.
For a moment she stared up at him, trying to find the right words, trying not to get lost in his questioning eyes. “I need your help.”
“I, uh … I thought you wanted us as far from the Valley Isle as we could get.”
Had she given him that impression? Had she wanted that? Kāne! She didn’t know what she had wanted. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted now. Only that she had to right the things gone wrong. “The Valley Isle is under attack.” Had she misjudged him again? Just how loyal was he to the he’e? Earlier today he’d claimed his feelings for her had dissuaded him from his contract with the octopuses. Could she count on that now? “The he’e have unleashed a sea dragon on us.”
Pasikole glanced at his crew, but most offered no reaction. Most probably didn’t even understand her words. “A … dragon?”
“A taniwha—a guardian of the deep. It destroyed my village and it’s going to do the same to every village in Sawaiki. Unless we stop it. So turn this ship around and get those cannons ready for use on a real enemy.”
The captain rocked back on his heels, clearly shocked, though whether at her tone or her news, she didn’t know. In truth, she had very little way to convince him to take such a risk. “You claimed to have feelings for me. You said you did, despite all you’ve done. Well, prove it. Come back and help me save my people. Don’t you think you owe us that much after causing so many deaths?” After the lies and betrayals.
Pasikole once again looked over his crew. He wasn’t checking for their reactions at all. He was thinking of their safety. They were his village, his clan, and she was asking him to make a choice that would cost some of them their lives. Maybe all of them. With that realization, Namaka couldn’t think of anything else to say. He had to decide this on his own. Maybe she could use his guilt to make him risk his life, but there were other lives here.
At last, he spoke to his crew in his native language. Many of their faces blanched as he spoke, and a few of them shouted things that sounded decidedly impolite. Pasikole continued speaking, and finally, the crew fell silent. All looking at him. And at her.
And then he nodded. One of the sailors on the upper deck yanked on the wheel up there, and the ship began to turn. Heading back to Sawaiki. Back toward the taniwha.
Day VII
21
Dawn was moments away whe
n the Valley Isle at last came back into view. Namaka stood at the ship’s bow with Pasikole. He had tried talking to her a few times during the voyage, tried apologizing again, and she had given him a curt nod. Part of her wanted to forgive him. Part of her wanted to hate him. She wasn’t certain how those two parts could exist side by side without destroying one another.
Anger is poison.
Maybe it was. That did not mean she was ready to let him back into her heart.
He had left her side only long enough to don a shirt. Now he stuck beside her, though he seemed to have given up trying to start a conversation. Maybe he felt the turmoil roiling in her gut.
“I had let myself fantasize about you, about us being lovers,” she said at last, as the isle drew near.
Pasikole opened his mouth, then shut it, seeming lost. Maybe, given how shy his people seemed about nudity, sex was also something tabu to talk of. Why, she couldn’t imagine. What a terribly backward way to look at such a central aspect of human life. No wonder these people tore themselves apart with lies and betrayal.
“It was before. Before Hau-Pu died.” Before Pasikole killed Hau-Pu. “Before all of this.”
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “None of this went the way I wanted it to.”
No. He’d wanted to kidnap her and sell her to the treacherous he’e. But she didn’t say it. Though he could probably read the thought off the look on her face.
“You came here with bad intentions. Are you so surprised it ended badly? If you—”
A horrid shriek cut her off and she spun. One of the sailors was wrapped by tentacle-like arms and tugged over the side of the ship.
“He’e!” she shouted.
The next instant a dozen of the creatures were crawling over the side, surprisingly fast even out of the water. They swarmed over the crew, wrapping them in crushing, strangling embraces.
The crew got off a few shots from their pistols, but those with the weapons seemed to be the first targets.