Kali looked wistful. "That sounds great to me. I almost wish that I had been training as a diver, too. I'm a year older than you and I still have to sit with the babies!"
Lana smiled. "Better find yourself a husband quickly, then."
"Don't be ridiculous. Who would I marry now? Kohaku? But I couldn't do that, could I-you'd have to kill me for stealing your one true love." Kali looked at Lana's furious blush and started laughing.
"What ... what are you talking about? Kohaku is our teacher!"
"Don't tell me. I know that. You're the one who's always staring at him like a fish." "
I do not!"
"Well, you like him, don't you?"
Lana looked away without saying anything.
Kali put her arm around Lana's shoulders. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. But perhaps, just to make sure, you could let me try a little of that amant ..."
Lana smiled a little. "Sure. Just try not to be too obvious, okay?"
Actually, Kali coughed so much that Aya came over to see what was the matter. She didn't seem to mind that Lana had given Kali some amant. Afterward, they both sat in companionable silence as Kapa played a traditional song on one of his harps. Lana was almost moved to tears-her father was, in his own way, saying goodbye to the little girl he had raised.
Yaela, the very first mandagah diver, supposedly composed the song a thousand years ago, before humans had bound any of the three great spirits-death, fire, and water. When the capricious nature of the water spirit had threatened to destroy all of the mandagah fish, Yaela had left the island and offered herself as the sacrifice that allowed the water spirit to be bound-imprisoned and thus controlled. On the inner water shrine, the prison that still held the great spirit, officiates left offerings in her memory. "Yaela's Lament" was the song the legendary diver had written just before she left to be sacrificed-saying goodbye to the great ocean and mandagah fish that were her first love. Although a female traditionally sang the song, her father's light falsetto commanded it as well as any woman singer Lana had ever heard:
Lana walked back home slowly beside her parents. She felt a little dizzy, but she wasn't sure if it was because of the amant, the palm wine, or her excitement. Perhaps all three? She looked up at the sky and made her fingers form a circle right above her eye, so it looked as though she had captured the moon within her hands. Giddy laughter left her lips almost involuntarily. Her mother looked at her, opened her mouth, and then shook her head.
"Hurry up, Lana," she said. "You still have school tomorrow, remember."
That night, after her parents had gone to sleep, Lana snuck out of the house-as she had done many times before-to dance beneath the moon. She wasn't sure why she enjoyed doing this so much, except that it made her feel close to something both beautiful and intangible. She heard her father singing "Yaela's Lament" in her head as she twirled in the moonlight. At first she felt joyful-reveling in how marvelous the day had been, and how strange. But as she continued to dance, she felt almost sick with the knowledge that from now on her life would be irreversibly different. She felt tears come into her eyes and abruptly stopped dancing. What would happen tomorrow? She thought about the red mandagah jewel and more tears sprang to her eyes. Her grandmother might have been right-maybe she was marked despite herself. She couldn't know what it meant, but at this moment it felt like the worst of omens.
Lana fell to her knees in the sand and felt some of the water from the receding tide seep into her leibo.
"Great Kai," she whispered. "Please let everything be okay."
She looked out at the ocean to see if there would be any response to her prayer. The waves continued breaking gently on the shore. Nothing changed.
Then Lana realized that even now, in the moonlight, she could still see the outline of the death island.
2
ANA MADE HER THIRD FULL CIRCLE OVER THE REEF that morning, straining her eyes for the slightest sign of movement over the sandy ocean floor. The other women swimming around her were doing the same, and she knew that the pockets of their leibo were as empty of mandagah jewels as her own. Lana had sensed something was wrong back on the morning of her initiation. She had only seen one fish-and that one was dying. In the six months since, the situation had grown progressively worse. The divers had consulted the elders and performed rituals of supplication to the water spirit, but nothing had helped. Lana couldn't shake the nervous feeling that had settled in her stomach like mildew. The day after her initiation, she had taken her cured jewels and hidden them in her clothes chest-maybe if she never looked at them again, she would be able to pretend that nothing had ever changed. But of course she couldn't. Many of the divers went days without harvesting a thing. Lana had become one of the most productive of the divers, but even she only harvested about one jewel each day. Two years ago, that might have been grounds for removing her privileges as a diver. Back then, ten jewels had been an average harvest. Today, it would be a miracle.
A brief billow of sand on the bottom caught her eye and she pushed herself farther under the water. She smiled-it was a mandagah fish. It began to swim sluggishly away from her, but when she grabbed its tail, it stopped struggling immediately. Had she somehow found another dying fish? She turned it around. Its eye ridges were still a healthy pink, not the dull gray of the one from her initiation, but it stared at her in that same disconcerting way. She reached with her other hand to pry open its mouth, but its lips wouldn't part. She tried stroking its belly to relax it, but it still refused to open its mouth. Her vision began to go white around the edges-she knew she should surface, but she didn't want to relinquish her find.
Then, without warning, the fish poked its sharp tail-hairs into her arm and wiggled out of her grip with a huge burst of energy. But instead of fleeing, it swam closer to her face. She floated, stupefied, as the fish kissed her forehead and dropped the jewel from its mouth. She reached her hand out and caught it, staring as the fish swam away. She stuffed the jewel in the pocket of her leibo and kicked up off the bottom.
Her hand trembled as she examined her find on the surface, but to her extraordinary relief it was just a white jewel. An unusual color, but not anything that would mark her. She would just have to hope that no one had seen the fish's strange behavior.
For months she had been having recurring dreams about the dying mandagah fish from her initiation. In the dreams, it would be crying-although she knew, of course, that mandagah couldn't cry-and it would always say "Goodbye, Lana. I'm bound to cross the gate." She would touch her finger to its lips and then to her forehead-just like she had done that morning-and then she would wake up. And now a second fish had willingly given her an unusual jewel. She knew the events of the past six months must be important, but she had no idea why, and because of the way she had hidden what happened during her initiation, she was too afraid to ask one of the elders. Her mother and another diver surfaced nearby.
"Did you find something, Lana?" her mother asked, swimming closer.
Lana nodded, and hoped that her face didn't show her agitation. She held the jewel out silently.
Leilani and the other diver looked at each other. "That's amazing, Lana. Neither of us found a thing. You really do have a gift for diving."
Lana blushed. "Just beginner's luck, I guess. Anyway, can you take this for now, Mama? I've got to get to school."
Her mother took the jewel and put it in her pocket. "Sure. Hurry up-you might be late again."
Lana nodded and swam back to shore.
She had to run back home to get a shirt and grab her slate before sprinting to school. Although women on her island often went all day without shirts, at school it was required. Kohaku seemed to think that wearing shirts was more "cultured," whatever that meant. She usually changed out of her wet leibo, but this morning she didn't even have time for that. Their classroom was in one of the ancient kukui trees that grew on the east side of her island. She was almost five minutes late before she finally climbed up the ladder for class. Kali had saved the seat nex
t to her, and Lana went straight to it, trying to make as little noise as possible. Of course, since her initiation she had been late to class nearly every day, so no one paid much attention anymore.
"You find anything today?" Kali whispered as Lana knelt on the mat.
Lana nodded. "Just one. It was white."
"Wow. You really are good, you know. I heard Eala hasn't found anything in more than a week."
"You too? I've just been lucky, that's all."
"Lana, Kali!" Kohaku slammed his book shut with enough force that both of their heads snapped up. "If your conversation is so much more interesting than this class, perhaps you would prefer to continue it outside?"
Lana's heart pounded painfully. She hated it when Kohaku rebuked her like this. She and Kali shook their heads mutely. Kohaku looked at Lana for a moment, smiled a little, and continued with his lecture.
Today was geography. Though she had always dreamed of traveling when she got older, Lana found it difficult to stay awake. Her mandagah fish dreams had been keeping her up at night, and she and the other women had taken to doing longer and more demanding dives in the effort to find even the few jewels they had been able to harvest. She struggled to suppress her yawns as Kohaku patiently discussed the relationship of the inner spirit temples to the outer shrines. Although she missed a good deal of what he said because she kept nodding off, she gathered that Kohaku was talking about the climate of the islands being connected to the outer shrines. The duty of the hereditary guardians of the outer shrines was to keep the minor spirits within the cycle of their islands. This kept them away from the inner islands so they couldn't strengthen the great spirits bound there, and help them to break free. The concentration of minor spirits made the outer islands much warmer. Her island was always warm, but all of the islands got colder the closer they were to the center.
She fell asleep after that, and Kali had to wake her up for lunch break.
They climbed higher into the tree, as they always did during lunch, where they had a great view of the ocean. On clear days they could see the outline of the death shrine, although lately that sight had just made Lana feel like caterpillars were crawling in the pit of her stomach. The two girls perched in the branches and opened the lunches that they had brought from home.
"I thought I was going to die in there, the way he kept rattling on about the spirits and the temples!" Kali leaned back on her branch and stretched out with a grimace.
"I don't know. It seemed pretty interesting to me."
"You were the one who fell asleep."
"I've been ... kind of tired lately. Besides, don't you think it's so fascinating-the ice-mountains on the inner islands, the huge volcano on Essel ..."
Kali shrugged. "I don't know. I guess. Sometimes I just can't wait to get away from this place. It feels so stagnant here, like nothing interesting could ever happen."
Lana might have agreed six months ago, but now she couldn't help but think that things were already changing, in a way that nobody wanted.
Lana peeled away an orange rind and tossed it into the grove.
"Okay, Kali. Let's make a pact."
"For what?"
"To go away together. To see all sorts of things we could never see on this island and then come back and tell everyone about it."
"But you're a diver."
"I'm not an elder, I can leave the island if I want. What do you think?"
Kali placed the last orange wedge in her mouth and chewed slowly. "You know, Lana ... you're the kind of person who can do things the rest of us can't, but assumes that there's nothing special about you."
Lana suddenly felt nervous again, but covered it with a smile. "Come on-do you want to travel with me or not?"
Kali stared at the ocean. "If you want me to go with you ... if I can. Why not?"
At the end of the day's lessons, Kohaku told Lana to stay behind after school. She loitered in the classroom as everyone cleared out, worrying. She felt terrible for falling asleep in class earlier and prayed that he wouldn't rebuke her for it. She watched him bustle about the classroom, picking up broken bits of writing gum and straightening the precious readers that he had brought all the way from Essel. She wondered if he ever regretted coming here-she knew their way of life must seem so primitive to him. She gathered that he was here looking for material to make his name in the great Kulanui in Essel. Maybe that meant he was using them, but Lana didn't mind as long as he taught her about the world. It was hard not to love someone who had shared so much of his knowledge with her. He was the very first teacher her island had ever had from the Kulanui, having come here because he had wanted to do his field study on a remote island near the outer shrines. She loved his exotic looks-his long reddish hair, his slim build, and his fashionable clothes.
"Lana."
Her heart started pounding. She had been so intent on studying him that his voice surprised her.
"Yes?"
Kohaku smiled. "No need to look so scared. It's nothing bad. Here, sit down." He gestured to a chair next to his desk. After a surprised moment, she sat down.
"What did you want to talk to me about?"
"You are a very promising student, Lana. I've given this very serious consideration, and I would like you to ask you to come back to Essel with me when I leave in two months and pursue your studies there. I hate the thought of you wasting away on a backwater island like this with your kind of talent. You could do great things, Lana. I see it in you."
Lana's mouth opened, but her vocal chords didn't seem to be working. What was with everyone today?
"But ..." her voice came out in a whisper and she cleared her throat. "But, I'm a diver."
Funny how she now used the same excuse that she had so easily brushed off earlier that day.
Kohaku frowned. "I know your island's traditions are important to you, Lana, but you have to understand the kinds of opportunities you would have on Essel. Do you want to live your whole life on this island without ever exploring your intellect?"
Lana felt panicked. On one hand, Kohaku was offering her the exact kind of opportunity to see the world that she had always wanted-and, even more extraordinarily, to do it with him. On the other, she knew that something was wrong on her island. She couldn't just abandon everyone before whatever was happening became clearer.
She shook her head. "I'm sorry ... I just don't know. I don't think I can leave right now."
Kohaku put his hand over hers and stared earnestly into her eyes. "Don't say no yet, Lana. You still have some time. Just think about what I've said, okay?"
Lana couldn't have said anything had she wanted to. She nodded.
"Well, then. Your parents are probably expecting you home by now. See you tomorrow."
Lana fled the classroom and scrambled down the tree before she allowed herself to relax. Her entire body was trembling. He had held her hand. He had stared into her eyes. He wanted her to go away with him. It was the happiest day of her life.
She really did love Kohaku. She had realized it one morning less than a month after he arrived. He had been telling them about the great Essel wars that lasted for a century after the wind spirit broke free, and she had been suddenly gripped with astonishment that anyone could know so much, yet think so little of it. Even the most knowledgeable women on her island confined it to useful subjects, like diving or fishing or farming and trading. What possible purpose did the history of five century-old wars serve? He was so different from every other man in her experience-his clothes and manner of speech were only the most obvious. Sometimes she felt like just being in his presence was itself a trip across the earth.
But now she felt agonized by the decision he had asked her to make. She couldn't tell anyone about their conversation-not Kali or her parents-because she was afraid of what they would say. She loved diving, no matter how dismissive Kohaku was of "rustic traditions." Besides, the rainy season was fast approaching, and then it would be virtually impossible to dive for the greater part of three mon
ths. She felt responsible, since she had so rapidly become one of the better divers, to find as many jewels as she could before the rains.
During a sunset dive two weeks after her conversation with Kohaku, Lana was having little luck finding any fish at all. Tayi, one of the other divers, was combing the water with her, and they were swimming much farther out than normal and diving deeper than Okilani would have approved. They were about thirty feet underwater when a large eel slipped out from one of the reefs beside them. Its deep green skin and large mouth looked a little sinister, and Tayi hid behind Lana's back as it swam by.
"It looks like Uncle Oha," Tayi said, using the hand signals all divers knew. Uncle Oha was a large man who spent most of his evenings drinking himself into a stupor at Eala's, but Lana felt warmly toward him because he loved listening to Kapa's music.
The comparison was so appropriate that Lana burst out laughing. She started to panic when the burning water accidentally filled her lungs. She gnawed her lip and kicked to the surface, where the water was darker than it should have been, and cloudy. She floated while she hacked up what felt like half the ocean. What kind of a fool was she to laugh during a dive? The water left a funny taste in her mouth, though, and she realized that it was burning her throat more than it should. What on earth was that taste?
Panic settled in her stomach, a fear so strong she knew she would never get it to leave.
The water tasted, ever so faintly, of salt.
The next day the rains started and the dives were called off. In fact, by the middle of the day the students were all sent home from school as well-they had to help their parents prepare their houses for the rains. Lana climbed on top of the roof with her father to cover the thatch with a stronger resin and larger palm fronds from the forest. They were soaked through by the time they came back inside, but at least the roof had stopped leaking. Her mother made them change their clothes before they sat down to dinner.
Racing the Dark Page 3
