by Beth Wangler
Climbing the residential hill takes longer than I remember. Now I see why the Iranines weren’t observing us set up camp. They congregate around the houses at the top of the residential hill, talking in agitated voices. Snippets of conversation reach us, words like outnumbered, defend our homes, invasion.
My heart sinks, even though we expected this.
Sandat recognizes us first. He points and spits. “Maraians!”
I ignore him but take advantage of the Iranines’ attention. “Where is Tatanda? We must speak with him.”
Sandat squints. “Raiba? I should have known. Friends, she planned this invasion all along!”
“Raiba?” Maylani’s voice echoes Sandat’s with far less derision. She steps around a few people, the gold trim on her vest glinting in the sunlight as she does. The sight of Mayli’s familiar dark curls and laughter-filled eyes draws a smile from me. She squints. “I didn’t recognize you. You came back?”
Her statement lacks the warmth I expected.
I want to hug her, but I suspect she might not accept the gesture. Still, I ought to try. “Peace to you, my cousin.” I reach out to her.
Mayli holds back. “I—I’ll take you to Tatanda.”
With a nod, I drop my arms. She leads back to the path and up to the highest house.
Our feet echo on the porch. My sandals are much thinner than last time I stood here, thin enough that I feel the wood grain worn smooth by many years’ worth of feet. No one waits at the door with a foot wash and cool drink. This is not a homecoming. We are not welcome guests.
Still, it’s cooler inside than out, the thick adobe walls holding in the remnants of the night’s chill.
Inside, Maylani turns and purses her lips. “Why did you leave without saying goodbye? Where have you been? Tatanda was furious that you disregarded us like that, after everything else. And why are all these Maraians invading us? Did you come with them?”
Maylani’s still frowning, so unlike my cousin, but I laugh. “Oh, Mayli, I’ve missed you.” I decide I don’t care if she’s upset with me, I need to hug her. And I do.
Maylani stiffens, but then she relaxes and hugs me tight. “I missed you, too.” Her voice shakes. “Do you know how worried I’ve been? You didn’t even say goodbye! And Pitka’s been so unmanageable, and Anik’s grumpier than I’ve ever seen, and—”
Footsteps, then Anik’s disheveled hair appears. “What’re you saying about me?” He notices the presence of others with his sister and straightens. Anik looks us up and down, then breaks into a grin that makes him squint. “Raiba?”
“Hi, Anik.”
He crushes me in a hug. “Took me a moment to recognize you. Why are you so banged up? And you just disappeared! We thought you disowned us.”
I laugh. “Oh, I’d never! But some men were going to do us harm, so we had to flee.”
“Who?” the siblings ask in unison, then recognize Saviayr.
“Saviayr!” Maylani exclaims. She starts toward him but stops. “I mean, um, well. You’re Raiba’s husband now, aren’t you? Spirits, that is strange to say.”
Anik nods at Savi, then looks back at me. “But wait, who was going to harm you? I want to know.”
I’m trying to think of an honest, vague answer to honor their friendship with Sandat when two little feet and solemn brown eyes appear as a distraction. “Pipit,” I grin, reaching for the little girl.
Pitka stays where she is, pressed against the wall. She scowls at me.
Anik slouches to her level. “Hey, squirrel.” He tugs one of her curls, which are messier than I have ever seen them. “Raiba’s back. Aren’t you going to say hello?”
“No.”
“Why not? You missed her. You wouldn’t let any of us tuck you in or braid your hair.”
“No,” Pipit repeats, crossing her arms and sticking out her lip. “I didn’t. I don’t like her anymore.”
I crouch down. “Oh, Pipit, I’m so sorry for leaving without saying goodbye.”
Anik leaps up. “I just remembered—I’ll be right back.” He sprints out of the room, and Maylani and I look at each other. Things never end well when Anik moves so quickly.
“Anik, slow down,” Mayli calls after her brother. To me, she says, “Seriously, though, how are you here? What’s going on?”
“I’d rather tell the story once. Can we see Tatanda?”
Maylani agrees, but Anik reappears before we turn toward the hall. He bears a pitcher and a bowl full of water. Two steps into the room, his sandal catches on a rug. Anik lurches forward but manages to catch himself. Only a little water spills, splashing Maylani.
“Anik!” Mayli shrieks.
“Sorry, sis!” He gives a half-smile, pushing himself upright.
I laugh, glad that Anik hasn’t changed too much. Then I turn to Yorchan. “These are my cousins: Anik, Maylani, and Pitka. And this,” I turn to them, “is my sister Yorchan.”
“Sister!” Anik makes a show of brushing off his pants and straightening his vest. “May the spirits be kind to you, Yorchan. Raiba, I didn’t know you had a sister.”
“It’s good to see you again, Yorchan.” Maylani politely tilts her head.
“You don’t look much like I’d expect,” Anik observes, looking back and forth between the two of us.
“Except for Rai, all Maraians have been adopted for decades,” Yorchan explains.
Anik snaps his fingers. “Ah, that’s right. That makes sense.”
“I didn’t tell you much about my past,” I reassure Anik. “I’m sorry.”
He nudges my shoulder. “You had no other option. I’m just glad you came to us in the first place, then and now.”
“May we please talk to Tatanda?” I remind them.
“Not until we welcome you properly,” Anik declares. He and Maylani rush through the hospitality ceremony. With clean feet and quenched thirst, I follow my cousins to the parlor. Anik pushes back the curtain in the doorway and clears his throat.
Inside, almost a dozen men turn their attention to us. Tatanda instantly looks away.
“Sorry for the interruption,” Anik says, not waiting for their conversation to end. “Tatanda, there are some people here to talk to you.”
Tatanda barely glances at us. “Send them away. I told you not to let foreign rebels in.”
“Yeah, but I thought you’d want to see your niece,” Anik says nonchalantly.
Tatanda looks at us a second time. I see the moment he recognizes us. I definitely need a bath if none of my family recognize me.
“Please excuse me,” my uncle tells the men in the parlor. “This is a matter I must see to at once.”
A couple of the men stand. I recognize Sandat’s father among them. He has come back from the mainland in my absence. “Get out of here,” they order us. “Do you think to bring our island to ruin? Do you bring devastation to us, too? We will not stand for this!”
Tatanda looks at them. “I will not have such unfounded accusations flung in my house, at people who have come on peaceful terms. You may see yourselves out. We will continue our deliberation later.”
Tatanda sweeps out of the parlor and toward the dining room. One by one, we file in before him and spread out. Tatanda enters last.
Pitka keeps her head down and avoids touching me, but her brown eyes peek up at me from time to time.
Tatanda crosses his arms and watches me. Under his heavy gaze, the girl I was when I lived with them would shrink.
But that girl has gone through much. Savi’s hand warms the small of my back, and I take a deep breath. “Tatanda, I apologize for leaving without saying goodbye.”
His gaze does not waver or change.
“It grieves me that I dishonored you in such a way. I will always be thankful for your kindness and hospitality toward me. When we left in haste, it was to escape attempts on our lives.”
Tatanda clears his throat. “I suspected as much, especially after my counsel in the parlor today. Why do you return?”
�
�I used to tell you stories about Aia my Thaies,” I remind him. “Aia sent Saviayr and me to the Izyphorn sultan and royals, where we demanded Maraiah’s release from slavery. Aia performed great and miraculous signs there. Just yesterday, Izyphor freed us and sent us away. By Aia’s foresight, my people had already been gathered to the coast. My sister Yorchan, Nhardah-Lev, and the Maraian elders led our people to the docks. We came to Ira for a temporary refuge as we seek a way to sail to our homeland across the sea.”
Anik holds up a finger and looks at his father. “Tatanda, the merchants also had wild tales—”
“You already told us,” Maylani interjects.
“—about fires and sickness and pests,” Anik finishes anyway.
Maylani sticks her tongue out at him.
“When you interrupted my counsel with the leading men of our island, we were disturbed by the unannounced invasion of Ira by your people. If violence should arise, they will fight for our homeland.”
Yori spreads out her hands. “Sir, we do not want violence, not at all. We want peace, and we want to leave as soon as possible.”
“What authority do you have to speak for the Maraians?” Tatanda frowns.
“She is our sister, and she helped lead our people while Rai and I were at the capital,” Savi answers.
“We don’t even have weapons,” Yorchan continues. “If you don’t trust us, at least be assured we’re not prepared to fight.”
“That may be true, but can you say that all of your kinsmen share your peaceful inclinations?” Tatanda asks. “In my experience, people burdened with new liberty are likely to celebrate, and revelry can lead to damage that will grieve both our peoples.”
“I will talk with them,” I promise. “We will do everything possible to assure that we are good guests, and I had them gather on the pasture hill to be as out of the way as possible. We hope to leave tomorrow.”
Pitka’s voice interrupts us. “What?” Her eyes are pink and her bottom lip trembles. She finally looks fully at me. “You’re leaving again?”
I kneel before her. “Oh, Pipit. I’m so sorry, but we can’t stay.”
A large tear rolls down her cheek. Pitka jumps forward, wraps her arms around my neck, and buries her face in my shoulder.
I squeeze her close and run my fingers through her tangled curls.
“Don’t go, Raiba,” she whispers. Hot tears drip onto my shoulder.
I bite my lip. “I have to.” Then I look up at Tatanda and speak as his niece instead of as an ambassador. “Uncle, come with us. I told you stories about Aia, and now you’ve heard the signs of who He is. He is so powerful and wise, and He is so, so good. Come with us. Be my family. You’ll be welcome in our land.”
The corners of Tatanda’s lips turn farther down. My heart sinks.
Anik crosses his arms and lifts his chin. “She’s right. After all this time, we’d be fools to ignore what Raiba’s told us about Aia. I’m going with her.”
Maylani takes a shaky breath. “Me, too.”
Pitka grips me tighter.
The veins in Tatanda’s forehead stand out. His face reddens. With a sudden burst of movement, he starts pacing the length of the dining room.
Maylani gulps.
“You’ve put me in an unfair situation. The people accuse me of sheltering the leader of the Maraian revolt. If your people do anything, however small, to cause trouble with my people, the Iranines will take up arms against them. They already look darkly at me since the debacle with the wedding. This puts my whole family in danger.”
“I am sorry, Uncle. But please, come with us. Leave the Iranines to grumble and cast blame. Join us, follow Aia, and start over in Tion Beriath. Please.”
Tatanda’s dark eyes are stern. He stops pacing. “You need to leave. If you are not gone by tomorrow, the Iranines will most likely wage war on you. Pray to Aia that He will provide a way off the island.”
Pitka starts crying.
“Leave,” Tatanda repeats. “Now.”
Chapter 44
“Where are we going?” Yorchan asks. She hops over the short bushes on the side of the path.
Dust puffs where our worn sandals fall. “It’ll be easier if you see for yourself,” I say.
Tatanda’s ultimatum is far from the only reason we need off this island. The aivenkaite cloud is closer now, broiling over the ocean. I need to find another word to describe it, because it’s really too large to accurately call a cloud. There is a horde of angry spirits out there waiting for their chance to break loose and decimate us.
I pick up my pace.
Nhardah greets us as the road veers toward the bluffs.
“How are the people?” Savi asks.
Nhardah crosses his arms. “My children always were foolish. They can hardly unite for a day! Fights break out over the Izyphorn plunder, and I’ve been hearing accusations of theft. You need to talk to them, or Maraiah will be gone by week's end.”
I tug at my chanavea and sigh. “Tatanda’s warning was right. We’ll talk to them as soon as we finish this.”
“Where are you going?”
“They won’t say,” Yori pouts.
“You’ll want to be there for this,” Savi tells Nhardah, so he joins us.
We pause on the top of the bluff. Yorchan gasps. “What is that?”
Scores of empty boats moored in rows bob and rock in the sheltered inlet. I tell her, “This is Crazy Tolak’s life work.”
“It’s a lot of boats,” Yori breathes.
“Hopefully enough to carry all of us to Tion Beriath,” I say, starting down the slope. “And hopefully we can convince him to give them to us. No one’s ever been able to buy a boat off of Tolak. We may end up needing all the treasure Izyphor gave us and more.”
As we descend, loose gravel dislodges from the path and clatters over the cliff. Savi keeps me close to the wall of the bluff. The memory of our last time down this trail keeps us both alert.
The tide is rougher than I’ve ever seen it. Over the crash of waves rings the pounding of a hammer, just as it has rung out for more years than I have lived.
“He’s been building these boats for sixty years,” I tell Yori. “Ever since a vision of a light told him to.”
We reach the sand. “This is crazy,” Yori says. “All of it’s crazy. Look at them—every boat looks brand new.”
I seem to truly see the boats for the first time. Yori is right: Each boat is perfectly preserved. There is no decay, no mold, no barnacles or salt-worn wood. The only indication of which boats are newer is their smoother woodwork displaying Tolak’s increased skill.
The hammering halts. A shout of exaltation rings from the nearest boat. Savi and I start toward it, followed by Nhardah and Yorchan. “Hello?” I call out from the pier. “Tolak?
The ponytail holding his curly silver hair is more disheveled than when we visited him a month ago, his black eyes are wide, and his musclebound shoulders are more relaxed than I’ve ever seen. When he sees us, he hops up from the deck and waves his calloused hands wildly. A grin covers his weathered face. “They are finished!”
“The—the boats?” Surely not.
“Yes!” Tolak shouts, flapping his arms. “I finished in time! I finished in time!” Tolak starts laughing, arms wrapped around his stomach.
Yori steps backward. “Is he safe?” she mouths.
I hesitate. “Tolak, are you okay?” I ask.
He swivels on his toes and points at me with a crooked index finger. “You!”
“Yes?”
“They are yours,” he declares, looking very pleased with himself.
“Mine?”
“Yes! The boats for the Champion.” Tolak does an impromptu jig. “I finished! I finished in time for the Champions of the Light!”
Then Nhardah does the last thing I expect: He jumps forward and joins Crazy Tolak in his dance. “Hae-Aia,” Nhardah sings. They link arms, stomping their feet on the deck.
I shake my head and join in their laughing.
Everything clicks.
Savi raises his eyebrow at me.
“What?” I say, kissing his cheek. “He finished the boats! Aia’s saved us again!”
Tolak collapses on the wood planks hewn by his own hands, laughing still, and Nhardah lowers himself next to him. “Come with us,” the Firstborn invites. “You have been faithful to Aia; you are part of my family.”
Tolak calms his heavy breathing, looking at his hands and then up at the island. “Thank you, but I will stay here.” He closes his eyes. “Do you know, I have not slept in a house for three score years? And I have family, nieces and nephews I’ve never seen. The Light rewards me now with rest.” One eye blinks open at me. “But you, your work is just beginning.”
“You’re right,” Saviayr agrees. “It’ll take the rest of the day and all night for everyone to organize and be put on boats. We should go.”
I limp forward and squeeze Tolak’s rough hand. “Thank you.”
He smiles back at me. “You are most welcome, Raiba.”
“Peace to you,” I wish him blessing.
Tolak has never heard the Maraian greeting before but somehow knows to reply, “May it also return to you.”
Peace is so close. We are free. We are headed home.
The five of us, Tolak included, file off the pier. At the top of the cliff, we wish Tolak well and part ways, him heading to the houses, us to the camp.
“I’ve never heard of anything like that,” Yorchan exclaims once Tolak’s out of sight. “That really is crazy! All those boats? Just waiting for us?”
But I think of the star that fell at my birth, and of the kaites saving and raising me. “Aia’s been planning our redemption for a long time,” I say. “I guess it was just longer than any of us realized.”
Forziel comes running to meet us when we near the camp. His hair sticks out in odd places, and his bruised face is haggard. “Hae-Aia you’re here,” he says. “These people are gonna kill me. Slavery didn’t do it, aivenkaites and prison didn’t do it, but they’re gonna.”
“We’re going to talk to them,” Savi assures him.
We keep walking as I ask Forziel, “Is it what Nhardah told us, disputes over treasure?”
