Where the Waters Turn Black (Yarnsworld Book 2)

by Benedict Patrick

  She eyed the dead creature she was clinging to. There was no feasible way she could climb on top of it, especially without the warriors on the boat looking.

  At least we’re still travelling forward. They can’t be that concerned about where I got to, or else they’d have stopped to find me.

  She shook her leg to fend off some of the curious bottom feeders who were investigating the new arrival. They went back to chewing on the taniwha’s underside.

  I wonder if they’ve found Eloni yet? I didn’t want to hurt her, but isn’t it strange that I don’t feel bad about it either? It’s exactly what Rakau would’ve done for me. He didn’t hesitate to hurt others to save me, whether I was under threat from taniwha or humans. Still, it would please me to think she survived. Survived, and learnt to shut up a bit more.

  The next day went slowly for the musician. She clung on tight to the dead taniwha, arms looped around the ropes, never allowing herself to rest or sleep, too focussed on making sure she did not slip off or was not bothered by any more sharks. On that long journey her spark left her alone, as if it realised that Kaimana’s attention needed to be on staying alive, on holding tight to the ropes around the dead taniwha. As Kaimana hung there, she prayed to Laka for her guidance. Only once did her mind stray to the other god in her life, to round-bellied Yam, and the image of him made her smile.

  Wherever you are, great Yam, I hope you’re in a better situation than me.

  The sound of horns blowing in the distance warned Kaimana when they arrived at Nakoa’s island.

  Knowing she would have no chance of concealing herself from the warriors if she stayed with the taniwha corpse until it was dragged ashore, as soon as Kaimana could see the island, she slipped away from the carcass, treading water and watching the canoes pull the dead body away from her, around to the other side of the island. Not travelling all of the way with them meant her trip would take more time, but she hoped it would allow her to travel with little fear of discovery.

  Steeling herself, hoping her friend still lived, Kaimana began the long swim to the distant beach.

  Night had fallen by the time Kaimana reached the war god’s temple. The trek through the dense jungle surrounding the temple had been tougher than expected, particularly because every movement in the trees had made her freeze in fear at the thought of being discovered.

  Her plan had been to scout the temple from the undergrowth to find the best way to gain entry. All of that left her mind, however, when she arrived up there. Her former performing troupe was still camped outside of the temple.

  Why’re they still here? I thought they’d have been kicked out in disgrace after I left, or maybe even disbanded after Eloni eloped with the priest.

  All of the troupe seemed to be present. Old Rawiri was sitting in a circle with the dancing girls, heads bowed and eyes closed. Kaimana was not close enough to hear anything, but she suspected they were in prayer to Laka. Mahina the chanting boy sat unusually close to them, not part of the group, but he appeared to be listening in. Poli and Tokoni sat by the camp fire, and Kaimana gave a half smile to see Tokoni run his hand softly down the turtle-faced girl’s back. Aka sat at the fire also, alone and staring into the flames.

  She watched them for a while, becoming more aware of how downbeat the group was.

  I can’t imagine life on Nakoa’s island could have been that pleasant for them. I wonder why they’ve been kept here?

  She had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with her.

  Kaimana was also aware of the loud noises coming from the temple courtyard. It sounded as if all of Nakoa’s warriors were there, chanting.

  Rakau must already be inside.

  At that moment, Aka got up and made his way into the forest, probably to relieve himself. Kaimana darted through the bushes and crept up behind her former troupe leader, covering his mouth with her hand.

  Aka started to struggle, trying to shout. Kaimana knew she would not be able to use strength to keep him quiet for long.

  “Aka, it’s me, Kaimana. Don’t let them know I’m here.”

  He turned around to eye her, the shock clear on his face. Kaimana slowly moved her hand from his mouth, waiting to see what he would do.

  After a pause, his eyes darting from Kaimana’s weathered face to her wounded shoulder, Aka spoke. “What’re you doing here?”

  The chanting from the temple grew louder.

  “I’ve come back for him, Aka, the taniwha. Is he in there?”

  Kaimana was taken aback by the anger on Aka’s face, making her remember the slap he had given her when removing her from the troupe.

  “You’ve come back for the taniwha?” His mouth was open, aghast. He looked towards the temple, then back at Kaimana. For a moment he could not speak, but gesticulated towards his chest with both hands. “What about us, Kaimana? You never thought about coming back for us, your friends, the people who took you in for years?”

  Friends? Friends don’t slap you across the face and then leave you to fend for yourself. “I didn’t know you were still here, thought you’d be long gone. Rakau - the taniwha, my friend - needs me now, if he’s still alive.

  “You’re kidding me! Don’t worry about the actual people you have lived with, but you’ve got no problem getting yourself killed for the sake of a murdering monster? And yes, it’s still alive, but I don’t reckon it’ll be that way for much longer. There was blood in the eyes of the warriors who dragged him in there, and so there should be. Let him be killed, end this so we may be sent on our way.”

  Kaimana was surprised to find she was now crying. “How could you, Aka? I always thought you were kind, that you had a good heart. Yet here you are wishing the death of the creature - the person - that means more to me than…” Kaimana’s spark erupted, tears of amber flowing from her as she realised that, unless she did something, Rakau’s final moments were upon him. Inside, her song was singing, complete. It was ready for the world to hear. All Kaimana had to do now was play it, to let it live forever it in history.

  Later, she chided the jealous song. First we save Rakau, then everyone will hear you.

  For his part, Aka was confused at the grief his former ocarina player was experiencing.

  Kaimana could see his resolve wavering, and grabbed Aka’s shoulders. “He is good, Aka. He saved my life, more than once. He is kind, and gentle, and unique. He doesn’t deserve to die this way, gutted like livestock.”

  Aka studied her once more, then turned away.

  “We have to play for them, to perform when the sacrifice is done. We’ve been setting up all morning, our equipment is in there. All of us have been coming and going through the north doorway, and the guards are too drunk to really pay attention. Act like you’re one of us and they won’t spare you a second glance. That’ll get you inside, but after that you’re on your own. I won’t endanger the others for your monster, and I’ve no idea how you could possibly help him with all those warriors crawling over him.”

  Kaimana nodded, taking all of the information in. Then, she leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on Aka’s shoulder.

  “Thank you, Aka. For my part, I’m sorry. Sorry you’ve had to suffer because of all this.”

  Then Kaimana left, not waiting for him to reply.

  At the north door to the temple, events transpired almost as Aka had described. Both guards were so drunk, it seemed as though neither of them were going to even look in Kaimana’s direction. However, as she passed them, head lowered out of respect and genuine fear, one of them took the opportunity to slap her on the bottom, eliciting chortles from his companion.

  Kaimana was surprised by the sneer that bloomed on her face in response, but she kept this hidden and walked back towards the stage she had played on weeks ago.

  The sight of the temple courtyard was horrible.

  Last time she had been here, the warriors had been organised but rowdy, giving all of the performers the notion that these were not safe men to be around, but they were ke
pt in check by their masters.

  Tonight, things were different. The warriors were riotous, consumed by drink and bloodlust, milling and tousling with each other around the courtyard, full-scale brawls running continuously in many pockets of this sea of flesh. The men were shouting and screaming, the content of which was mostly incoherent, but many of them were loudly praising their lord’s name.

  Nakoa sat there, overlooking them all. The raised podium for his driftwood throne had been repaired, but the broken wall behind him had not yet been touched. A shiver ran up Kaimana’s back when she realised that Nakoa too was intoxicated, a barrel-sized cup in his hand continuing the job. The god was shouting along with the rest of the warriors, one hand balancing his drink on the edge of the throne, the other whirling his Kiribati around his head every time he sighted a display of bravery and strength that pleased him. The war god was laughing, and for all purposes he sounded to Kaimana like a fat pig who had just gained access to a farmer’s field.

  Behind Nakoa, standing silently, were a number of others Kaimana recognised. Her eyes quickly went to Eloni. Kaimana was relieved to see she had not killed her former teacher. Eloni’s throat was wrapped and bound, and the woman’s hollowed expression suggested she would rather be recovering in bed than celebrating tonight, but she was alive. Eloni stood behind Hohepa, whose eyes were full of thunder, constantly fixed on the young warrior who stood to Nakoa’s right. This young man Kaimana did not recognise, but she suspected he was the one responsible for Rakau’s capture, and was now benefiting from increased status because of his success.

  Rakau was there too. It took a few moments for Kaimana to spot him, because of all the people standing or sitting on him. Rakau was bound in the centre of the courtyard, but the courtyard was so tightly packed with men, they had taken to using the taniwha as part of the floor. Ropes as thick as Kaimana’s arms held the taniwha firmly to the ground. Kaimana fancied that Rakau would still be able to break free if he wanted to, but he did not appear to be moving, despite the constant abuse his body was now receiving. For a moment, she feared he was already dead, but then she spotted a loud warrior whipping out a knife and slicing a nick from Rakau’s skin. The warrior proceeded to lick at the taniwha’s blood, drinking it with resulting shouts of encouragement and disgust from his peers, but Kaimana’s heart was gladdened to see her friend shudder at the knife’s touch, briefly opening his green eyes and letting out a growl of pain.

  Quickly, Kaimana threw a tapa shawl over her head and pushed her way into the crowd. Her spark inside her, now ready to sing, began to panic as Kaimana was jostled and bumped by the celebrating warriors.

  We’ll be fine, we’ll be fine, she chided the spark, they’re so drunk and consumed by themselves, they don’t have time for me.

  Oh Rakau, what’ve they done to you? I’ll try to free you from your bonds, but you’re going to have to fight your way out yourself.

  Despite her thoughts of encouragement, Kaimana was aware that she and Eloni were the only women present at these festivities. The idea of sneaking around undetected underneath the throng of warriors would have had a lot more merit if Kaimana could have blended in better.

  Still, she was able to reach the first rope without her presence causing any commotion. Rakau’s bonds were tied to thick wooden stakes that had been driven into the courtyard’s earth, and it took only a few seconds of cutting with the Owl Queen’s knife for the rope to break. As the binding went limp, Kaimana’s head snapped up, fearful the men around her would finally notice what she was doing. Thankfully, they were all too busy and inebriated to notice.

  As Kaimana moved to the next stake, she let her fingers run over the taniwha’s hide.

  I’m here, now. Be ready.

  As the chord at the second stake broke, Kaimana heard a shout from behind. She could not make out exactly what had been said, but its meaning was very clear - she had been spotted. She pushed into the crowd of warriors blocking her way to the next rope, but the growing noise of unrest from behind her told Kaimana her time of anonymity was up, and word of her rescue attempt was spreading.

  As she emerged from the bodies at the third stake, she cut at the rope desperately, aware that most of the shouts in the courtyard had turned from the noise of celebration to that of outrage. A rough hand grabbed her wrist just as the third rope severed, crushing her muscles, causing her to drop the knife in pain. Kaimana looked up to see the tattooed face of an older warrior, excitement building on his face as he realised the prestige he was about to receive before his god.

  Remembering how she had dealt with Eloni on the canoe, Kaimana sank her teeth into the older man’s fingers, drawing blood. He had clearly not been expecting any reprisal from her, and his grip slackened in shock. This was all the opportunity Kaimana needed to pull away from him, disappearing into the crowd once again, making for the final stake in the ground.

  The going was not easy now, all in the temple were aware that something was wrong. Hands grabbed out for her, but she wormed her way between the men’s bodies as quickly as she was able. A warrior grabbed her shawl, pulling it off her as she continued to push past. Another grabbed Kaimana by the hair, and for a brief moment, she thought it was all over, that she would not be able to escape this attack. However, she pulled with all of her might, and after a painful ripping sensation, she left a clump of hair in the man’s hand, but continued, free.

  She reached the final stake, knifeless. Desperate, Kaimana grabbed the stake and began to pull on it. Inside, her spark was screaming at her, knowing how close it was to being lost forever.

  I can’t do this, this is too much for me. I must have loosened him enough by now.

  Angry hands found Kaimana. They grabbed at her, trying to pull her away from the stake. Instead, she gripped tight, no longer trying to pull it from the ground, but just holding onto it to stop herself from being moved.

  She moved her head around to try to catch a glimpse of the taniwha.

  “Rakau! I’ve done all I can,” she shouted. “Pull free, pull free now. Get out of here, run while you can.”

  The taniwha did not move.

  Behind her came a laugh, and Kaimana cried out in pain as a foot made contact with her gut, winding her, causing her to finally let go of the stake. Her hair was pulled, throwing her head back, letting her look into the satisfied eyes of her captor, Hohepa.

  “My thanks to you for this opportunity,” he sneered quietly at Kaimana, before bringing his forehead down on her face with a crack.

  The breaking of Kaimana’s nose was accompanied by an explosion of sound from the surrounding crowd, the multitude of warriors congratulating their high priest on his success. Her head ringing from the noise and the pain, blood flowing freely from her crumpled nose, Kaimana felt Hohepa lift her roughly above his head, carrying her to his lord and master. Inside, her spark was whimpering, a flower which had been ready to bloom, but was now preparing itself to be chopped at the stalk.

  All Kaimana could think of was Rakau. Why didn’t you try?

  As if sensing her thoughts, one of Rakau’s eyes opened, weakly looking at her in shame. He was forced to close it when one of Nakoa’s men took the occasion to kick the taniwha’s eye. Kaimana let out a long breath as she realised all was lost, and she felt empty, like a hollow shell. Once more, her spark dimmed, preparing to flee.

  She was thrown roughly to the floor.

  “It is already beaten.”

  The speaker was Nakoa. Kaimana found herself once again at the mercy of the war god. As she lifted her head to look at the pig, all of the cuts and bruises she had suffered when struggling through the crowd began to protest, and she groaned in pain. Nakoa was looking at her, grinning with menace, his long-toothed overbite dripping beer-soaked drool onto Kaimana’s face.

  “The taniwha knows it is beaten. It has tried to escape, and I have beaten it back.”

  The war god tipped back his head, emptying the remnants of his cup into his open mouth, allowing a good amount of it
to splash down onto Kaimana’s face. Then, Nakoa threw his cup at Kaimana, sending her head crashing back into the dirt and opening up a large gash on her forehead.

  “Send for the performers! The time has come to rid the Atoll of the beast.”

  Kaimana could feel herself slipping into unconsciousness, but she fought it back.

  If I can’t save him, I’ll be with Rakau now, at the end.

  She lifted herself off of the ground, gritting her teeth against the pain of the throbbing inside her skull. Dimly, she was aware of Aka and her former troupe - except for Eloni - being escorted onto the performer’s podium.

  Then Nakoa knelt down beside Kaimana, the odour of his fermented breath causing her stomach to clench.

  “But first, let us show the people of the Atoll what happens to those who deny a god his due.”

  More pain as Kaimana was hauled to her feet again, this time grabbed by an oversized hand on the back of her neck. Nakoa held Kaimana just above the dirt floor of the temple courtyard, holding her high enough for her desperately searching toes to taste the solid ground but find no proper footing on it.

  Her spark screamed. However, unlike all of the other times Kaimana’s life had been threatened, her spark was not screaming out of fear. It was angry. Through her pain, through her sadness at the thought of Rakau leaving this world, Kaimana could sense her unborn song screaming in anger at Nakoa, cursing him for denying it its chance at life, cursing him for forcing a tragic end to its tune. In response to these screams, the amber sparks of Kaimana’s Knack flowed from her eyes like never before, settling on the war god’s hand and arm like small, flickering flames. Unfortunately, these flames quickly faded, and appeared to cause no discomfort to the god.

  “This girl has wronged me,” Nakoa growled to his audience, and his men nodded solemnly. “We were attacked - I was attacked - and she helped the attacker to escape.”

  Through her tears of pain, Kaimana could see her former troupe staring at her. To a person they seemed to be in shock, unable to fully believe what they were seeing.