The chief’s people dug great ovens into the beaches along his island, and inside them they roasted Queen Alisi’s whale. They feasted well into the night, and danced, drank and sang, congratulating themselves on fighting such a great battle.
The next morning, the smell from Chief Isileli’s ovens drifted over the seas, and Queen Alisi was awoken by the scent of whale flesh on the breeze. She instantly felt sick to her stomach, fearing the worst. She sent some spies to Chief Isileli’s island, and they confirmed her fears. The chief had killed her taniwha and his people had feasted on it.
Queen Alisi’s rage was furious. She gathered all the warriors she had on the island, numbering about forty, and prepared to set sail to seek revenge.
Before she did so, a group of women stepped forth. “Queen Alisi,” they begged, “please do not do this. We are a peaceful people, with few warriors among us. Chief Isileli, however, has an entire army. When he sees our war canoes coming, he will summon all his men and destroy our husbands. Instead, let us, the women of the island, carry out the revenge you seek.”
Many of the gathered warriors began to laugh at this suggestion, but Queen Alisi waved for silence, wishing to hear the plan.
“Chief Isileli will not expect any trouble from us,” the women explained. “He will think we are merely visiting the island, to see the great warriors who worked together to kill a taniwha. This will allow us to work our magic on the army, and on the chief. When we have made them fall into a deep sleep, we can steal Chief Isileli away to be punished.”
The warriors were uneasy about letting their wives travel alone to Chief Isileli’s island, and they were most unhappy about letting them use their magic with other men, but the queen saw it as a good plan. She disguised herself as a washerwoman and joined the women on their canoe to Chief Isileli’s island.
When they arrived on the island, the canoe of women was welcomed with open arms. Chief Isileli’s armies were still celebrating their victory over the taniwha. Queen Alisi’s women danced with and entertained the warriors, using their magic to make them all fall into a deep sleep.
Queen Alisi herself entertained Chief Isileli, who did not recognise her through her disguise. Her magic was strong, but her heart sank as she realised that even after entertaining him for most of the night in his private chambers, the chief’s eyes remained open. Soon it would be daylight and the warriors would wake from their magical sleep. The moment for revenge had almost passed.
Then the queen’s eyes narrowed. She danced closer to the chief.
She gave a smile of deep satisfaction when she realised she was not looking at the chief’s open eyes, but at a pair of brightly coloured sea shells that rested upon his eyelids. The chief had noticed many of his warriors falling into a deep sleep, and had placed the shells on his eyes to fool any enemy that might be attempting something.
The queen quickly dressed and summoned the other women. They stole away in the night, bringing the sleeping chief with them.
It was a long time before the chief was released from the clutches of Queen Alisi, and by then he had been punished many times over for the death of the whale, and was a changed man for the rest of his life.
The troupe were not happy with Kaimana, and she could not blame them.
It had been a few days since they had left Pukotala, and the dark mood brought on by their dismissal had not gotten any better. Nobody had mentioned the incident to Kaimana since, but she could tell they all blamed her for their downfall.
There’s no proof the taniwha came because of me, she thought. It’s a taniwha, by the goddess. It does what it wants. If you live close to a monster, expect to receive a visit from time to time.
However, Kaimana also knew that even if the beast’s appearance was a coincidence, no harm would have come to the troupe if she had not visited the cave in the first place.
The only thing that saved Kaimana from outright conflict with the other members of the troupe was the fact that she had begun to spark. From the corners of her eyes she could see many of them look at her with wonder, especially the younger performers. For most of them it was the first time they had seen a musician sparking. Eloni was the only other troupe member who claimed to have experienced it first-hand.
It was a curious experience for Kaimana. The glowing and sparking of her eyes had caught her by surprise at the beginning, but she got used to it quickly. What was more unsettling was what was going on inside. She could feel the spark in her head, like a treasure hidden in murky waters waiting to be discovered. It was like a living thing, happy but hungry, demanding that all of Kaimana’s time was devoted to crafting a masterpiece. Every movement of her hands on her ocarina, every whistled tune she played and practised brought the song closer into focus, as if it was waiting for her to find it but she could not quite tell exactly what it should look like yet. At the moment it was ill-formed, yes, but even at this early stage, Kaimana could tell it was going to be beautiful. She had cried when she had first realised this, after the initial shock of the change inside her. A small part of Kaimana was proud that it was her name that would be attached to this song, that her name would live forevermore on the lips of the storytellers and musicians of the Atoll. However, a much stronger reason for the tears was the fact that Kaimana knew already her composition was unbearably beautiful, and she would soon be able to see it, to know it in all its intricacies, and share it with the world.
It was because of the taniwha, she had no doubt. Her encounter with the creature, that sense of discovery after the recent disappointment of being reunited with her parents. Those powerful emotions had mixed together in her mind, causing her Knack to spark. Kaimana’s favourite section of the song so far, the section that she felt was most fully formed, was a high, sharp, racing series of staccato blasts on the ocarina, quickly plummeting down the musical scale. This was inspired by her flight from the monster in the cave, and she could feel her heart beating just as fast when she played this part of her song, could feel her spark burning happily whenever she played it. When Kaimana practised this section, in the corner of her eye she would spy the dancing girls pick themselves up and begin to sway rhythmically. Whether the girls were deliberately trying to encourage Kaimana, or if it was further evidence of the power of her infant masterpiece, she could not tell, but still it made her smile.
My first admirers.
Although the troupe would know the truth, Kaimana of course would not name the song after the events of her own life. People preferred stories from the past, stories of characters they already knew well. Kaimana fancied she would claim that this song told the tale of Queen Alisi meeting her taniwha for the first time – it made more sense to keep it close to the truth, just as Eloni used her own experiences to craft The Taming of the Fire Goddess.
Maybe I should ask everyone else what they think. They’d like that, if I let them name it.
The troupe’s double-hulled canoe was large enough to carry all of the players, allowing them to live comfortably together while at sea. On the Atoll, anything man-made that could sail on the waters was called a canoe, ranging from small hollowed-out logs that a single person could paddle with an oar, to the large war canoes of Nakoa’s personal fleet, each of which could house a small army. The troupe’s canoe had the luxury of a great sail that carried them between islands, sparing the performers from the drudgery of rowing, except only on the calmest days. Unlike some of the larger water vessels owned by the most important island chiefs, however, there was no interior for even the troupe leader to sleep under. Because of this, each of the troupe had a certain part of the canoe that they called their own while at sea. Aka and Rawiri shared a large woven awning in the middle of the vessel which they slept under when not in charge of the voyage. Kaimana had adopted the stern, and would happily perch there, practising on her ocarina. Like all who lived on the Atoll, Kaimana and the rest of the troupe were experienced in travelling by water, and all were expected to take turns to help when at sea. However, because of her sparking Kaiman
a was currently excused from those duties. Having her complete her composition would be a great boon to the troupe, and so she was given as much time as possible to focus on it, for fear she might lose her spark before the song was finished.
They were travelling south now, to the pig god’s temple. The Atoll was large, and it would take them a good week of travel to get there even if they did not stop, but Rawiri and his dancers in particular demanded time on solid land to practice their art. The marionettes were also difficult to handle at sea, so Tokoni and Poli were happy to stop at uninhabited islands or small fishing villages and hone their skills. Aka had also managed to get Rawiri to agree to do some fire breathing for the important performance - a feat the old man hated due to the havoc it caused in his gut for weeks afterwards. He needed to prepare special potions for the spectacle, and to pray to Laka for protection and inspiration during his performance.
As Kaimana’s kahuna, Eloni was expected to continue to train with her, even though it had been many months since the woman had attempted to speak to Kaimana about their art. Aka appeared to be happy enough if the two sat and played close to each other, and normally that was all they did. No longer acting like teacher and pupil, they sometimes played in harmony, but more often than not, these sessions would turn into unspoken battles, each trying to rise above the other, to be the one controlling the story of the music.
When playing together the day after leaving Pukotala, Eloni took her flute from her mouth and spat over the side of the canoe.
“You’re on your way out, you know,” she said.
Kaimana looked at her. She wanted so desperately to say nothing in response, but knew she could not help herself. “What do you mean?”
“That stunt back at your home? Being asked to leave the harvest festival is bad for all of our mana. Aka will get rid of you before we reach the pig god’s temple. Maybe feed you to the cannibals if any get too close.”
Kaimana shuddered at that last threat. Eloni was harmless enough - all aboard the canoe suffered from her bitter tongue during a voyage - but the jibe about cannibals reminded Kaimana of where they were sailing. This part of the Atoll was indeed known for the tribes of flesh eaters that lived here. The pig god had chosen to build his temple in the middle of the area of the Atoll that gave him most opportunity to practice his art of war. Most Atoll islanders who ate human flesh were civilised enough to only do so to people who had angered them, but one always heard stories…
Eloni arched an eyebrow, giving a satisfied smirk that she had said enough to make Kaimana doubt herself. Eloni gathered her cloak and made her way to the canoe’s bow to practice alone, and to flirt with handsome Tokoni, despite the fact he was far too young for her.
Poor Poli. Kaimana watched the marionette girl look with a pained expression as Tokoni opened himself to Eloni’s flirtations, allowing the older woman to stroke his bare arms as they spoke. It was clear to Kaimana that Poli was deeply in love with Tokoni. The pair had grown up as childhood friends, and their twin Knacks performing with marionettes had come about because of the time they had spent together playing with Tokoni’s uncle’s old carved puppets.
Poli was known behind her back as the turtle-faced girl, because the flatness of her nose and the roundness of her face and body made her look not unlike a turtle. Unfortunately for poor Poli, Tokoni had grown up to be a handsome young man, and he clearly knew it. When they worked together as a team, Kaimana had never seen anyone closer than Poli and Tokoni. But when it came to socialising, Tokoni always made a beeline for the nearest attractive young woman. Poli was left looking on, ignored.
Other members of the troupe tutted or laughed about the situation, about how different their two marionette players were, and made jokes about Tokoni’s roving eyes and hands. Only Kaimana, with her deep curiosity of the world around her, was aware of how truly sad Poli was with the situation.
Ignoring the demanding protests of her spark – it wanted her to continue to practice - Kaimana made her way over to Poli, looking to move the girl’s mind onto something else, and also hoping to find someone to share her own worries with.
“I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve prepared for Nakoa’s performance,” Kaimana said, startling Poli from her distracted gaze.
Poli looked at Kaimana blankly, irritated by the distraction. “You would’ve seen it if we’d had time to perform at Pukotala.”
Kaimana was surprised. Poli had never been close to her, but the puppeteer had also never spoken to Kaimana so bluntly.
“I… yes. I’m sorry about my part in that.”
Poli gave no response, just snorted and returned to the marionette strings she was repairing. Kaimana walked away, disturbed by how much animosity she had received. Clearly it was not just Eloni who held a grudge against Kaimana this time. From her position at the stern, Kaimana eyed the rest of her band. The dancers sat in a circle together, probably discussing their time with the goddess Laka and how to further devote themselves to her. Their conversations were always similarly riveting. Aka and Rawiri were manning the sail together, chatting in short sentences. Young Mahina sat close to them, watching and listening in silence. Eloni and Tokoni continued to flirt, Poli continued to watch from her position. Every so often eyes would flick in Kaimana’s direction, darken slightly, and then everyone would return to normal.
The troupe had always felt like a home to Kaimana because she had finally found somewhere she could be who she really was, somewhere she did not have to be ashamed of her musical Knack. However, a close friendship was something she still lacked. The others in the troupe were too busy, too disinterested, or just too plain boring for Kaimana to fully connect with. When she had first joined with them, Kaimana thought that the distance she felt might have had something to do with Laka, because the goddess had graced everyone else with her presence. To this day Kaimana remained jealous of the divine attention that everyone else had received, and in the beginning, she had felt that missing out on this experience somehow made her less worthy than the others, that she was not as important a part of the group. As her months with the troupe grew into years, Kaimana realised that other than her love of performance, she simply did not have a lot in common with the others. Instead of seeking out a deeper connection with the rest of the troupe, Kaimana had spent more time alone, practising her music and contemplating her surroundings.
However, now these people who were family but not quite friends were angry with her. They blamed her for affecting the mana of the troupe, for affecting their luck just before the most important performance of their careers.
Two days before the expected arrival at their destination, all came to a head. Tension was running high already because of the dangers of this part of the Atoll, with the threat of cannibals lurking nearby. The troupe had been living off of salted fish for days, not daring to land at an island and light a fire to cook for fear of attracting unwanted attention. Just as their supplies had dried up, Tokoni and one of the dancers had caught a brace of yellowfin tuna and, to the relief of all, Aka agreed to land and dig a small oven. As night set in and they waited for their meal to cook, the troupe huddled around a small camp fire. Kaimana’s spark buzzed in annoyance at her as she took this time away from her song. It did not seem to realise yet that Kaimana required food and sleep to continue to function properly.
Calm, calm, she urged the strange life inside her, giving a small smile at how demanding her spark seemed to be. Let me rest, let me eat, then we can return to our masterpiece.
The spark’s buzzing reduced, but she could sense it was not happy with her.
I seem to be having that effect on everyone, recently, Kaimana thought, looking gloomily around the campfire.
Despite the fact that it had been almost two weeks since Pukotala, this was actually the first time all of them had been gathered together. The canoe did not count. They were so used to existing in their own small worlds on that vessel, they may as well have been miles apart, unless they actually wanted
to let each other in.
“This is a fine mess, isn’t it?” Eloni ventured. “We should all be excited right now. All looking forward to the big event, maybe the biggest event in our lives, coming soon. But instead here we are, ignoring each other, everyone scared to talk about the real problem.”
“Enough, Eloni,” Rawiri said.
Aka looked on nervously.
“Why shouldn’t we talk about it?” Kiki said. “We’ve been run out of a village. It’s a great shame to us, to the goddess. We should be talking about it.”
Kaimana’s face reddened, coloured by equal parts shame and anger.
“No good will come from pointing fingers,” Aka said, doing his best to calm Kiki.
However, Kaimana could already see that it was far too late. Kiki’s body language told Kaimana that the dancer was not happy, and most of the other young troupe members were shifting similarly. Kaimana caught Eloni grinning slyly.
She set this up. Probably been whispering in all of their ears for days.
“I only need one finger,” Kiki said in response, standing up in the campfire circle and pointing accusingly at Kaimana.
Kaimana stood up in return, staring at the finger. She realised she was shaking and couldn’t quite explain why. I’m not scared of Kiki, of the others, I know they’d never hurt me. But they’d never speak to anyone else in the group like this.
Aka shifted uncomfortably, but made no attempt to move. Travake and Poli stared at Kaimana with accusing gazes.
Well, if nobody else is going to speak for me, I’ll have to do it on my own.
“I’m sorry for what happened, I really am. I don’t believe that what happened was because of me. It was a taniwha - it does what it wants. If it’d been looking for me, it would’ve found me.”
“You were told not to go,” Aka said, staring at the sand that he was moving around aimlessly with his foot. “I told you not to go, and you did. If you hadn’t been there, even after the taniwha attacked, we would not have been to blame. But you did not listen.”
Where the Waters Turn Black (Yarnsworld Book 2) Page 4
