The day escapes me, and evening falls when Keyon returns. He spends time with his brother. Tao’s improvement slows. I’ve spent the entire afternoon inside, so when Keyon asks me to take a walk, it’s as if he knew I needed to get some fresh air.
Side by side, we walk the murky shore in silence. A half-moon hangs above us, and the stars speckle the deep abyss as the shells do the sandy shore. The sea mesmerizes Keyon. He stares at it as he did the bread he devoured earlier, never looking away. He longs for something I have yet to understand.
“Why do you hate the water?” he asks, breaking the barrier of silence between us.
The moon’s light touches the surface of the ocean, a glowing white stripe dividing the sea into two and abruptly ceasing at the edge of the shore. I don’t go into the ocean for fear of swimming with the dead or becoming one of them, I think, but instead I say, “I don’t hate the water. Why do you assume that?”
“You think the sea will kill Tao, when I know it’s the sea that keeps him alive.” He waves his hand toward the sea. “None of your people swim in it. They merely wade in the shallow part and fish.”
His words confuse me. “Water needs to be kept out of his lungs. That’s what I’ve been taught, and it’s proven to be true. I know warm water has soothing effects for certain pains, but not when the lungs have been infected.”
He shakes his head and bends down to pick up a piece of coral. Throwing back his arm, he hurls it into the sea, sending the rock back to its home, and the sound of the waves colliding with the sand muffle the splash.
“My brother, he will recover, won’t he?”
His voice sounds small, as if the words come from a boy and not a man. I’d never lead one into a false hope. Grandmother taught me to tell the truth, even if the person’s on the verge of death. Always be honest. Sometimes telling the truth hurts far worse than the injury itself, proving thus more difficult than healing wounds.
His brother isn’t progressing quickly. The fever causes his body to weaken, taking all the energy from the little food I’ve been able to get down him. He’s still delusional, and doesn’t know where he is. Keyon told me of the phantoms that haunt his brother’s dreams. I don’t understand how he knows what another dreams. But, his accounts seem to be real, and the more he tells me, the more I believe these two men who look the same, live as one.
“He isn’t improving as fast as I’d hoped. But, it’s only been one day, and he was near death when you brought him to me. His body’s cooling, and that’s a good sign. I’ll do my best to keep him comfortable and continue to administer the fluids and herbs, but we’ll need time. You need to be patient,” I answer.
Keyon faces me, staring as though I’ve lost my mind. The truth’s not what he wanted to hear. The depths of his eyes darken into blackness. “Believe me when I tell you this. Time waits for no one.” Biting coldness replaces the small voice. The slap of his spoken blow stings me, but I’ve told him the truth, and I can’t be condemned for that.
Anger pulls at the scar traveling down his left cheek, dragging it taut to the corner of his mouth. As furious as he seems, he’s equally desperate for my help. I keep this thought close, as it gives me the strength to endure the helplessness of this stranger.
He breaks our stare and glances over his shoulder to the ocean. Reflecting the moon, silvery waves slip over liquid darkness that never stops rolling and twisting. Looking back to me, he says, “I trust you with a life I value far more than my own. And, I consider my life something worth killing for.”
Perhaps the sun’s weakened my mind, but I don’t take his threat to heart and accept his fierce words. I’ve seen the hurt burning in his droopy eyes a hundred times before as emotions take over when the sword of death raises its ugly blade above our heads.
In the distance, Apela and his friends gather around another coffin. My stomach churns.
“What are they doing?” Keyon asks. His scar reddens, matching the anger in his eyes.
Apela uses his tool to pry open the wooden box.
Keyon doesn’t wait for me to answer. He sprints down the sand and plows into Apela, knocking him on his back.
4
My feet fail to keep pace with my racing heart, and I fall, face-planting into the wet sand. By the time I find my balance, Keyon and Apela have each other locked in an uncompromising embrace.
“Let him go!” I yell, not knowing exactly whom I’m addressing.
Keyon’s hands are around Apela’s throat. My brother’s threats come out as rasps.
I approach them with caution. The other boys fall back into the darkness. Cowards.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
Keyon shoves Apela to the sand. My brother darts up in a defensive stance.
“They were going to disrupt our dead,” Keyon yells over the crashing waves.
I’m left speechless, not because I agree with him, but because he knows something about the death boxes, and speaks with remorse and respect for them. The sadness in his tone adds to the feelings of wrongness I’ve felt every time I watched my brother disrespect the dead. My eyes shift from Apela to Keyon. Their stares are locked on one another’s. Keyon doesn’t back down. It’s apparent his strength far outweighs my brother’s.
“Stop!” I yell.
Questions slam into my head. I push them aside and wedge my way between Apela and Keyon before one of them kills the other. By the looks of each of them, Keyon would be the one left standing.
They each step back, giving at least a meter on either side of me. “Apela, it’s late. Inoa is alone. Go to her,” I plea. Desperate enough to use his wife, I hope he proves to be the man and father Grandmother raised him to be.
“Listen to your sister. Go home,” Keyon says.
His demand doesn’t sit well with my brother. “Apela, it’s okay. Go home. Inoa needs you.”
He hesitates and then slowly backs away. “I’ll come to check on you later.”
The other boys, as usual, follow.
I turn my gaze toward Keyon. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”
He watches Apela retreat and then pushes the coffin back into the water, wading far enough past the waves to send it floating from our shore. Keyon bows his head, standing silent for a long time. The wooden box disappears in the dark abyss of the waters down the shoreline.
I follow Keyon’s sunken footprints down the beach. He sits on the steps of my porch. His eyes blaze with anger, and his mouth is set in a hard line.
“I don’t know what to say,” I admit even though there are a thousand questions popping into my head.
“There’s nothing to say.” Keyon gets up. “I’m going for a swim.”
He rushes down to the beach and dives into the waves. Scuffling noises draw my attention. I run up the ramp to my hut, hoping to scare the critter that has entered my home, but instead find Tao on the floor, scooting himself toward the fire. “What are you doing?”
His breaths come in heavy pants, and his eyes are red. “Water...” He gasps, reaching for the pot.
I race to him and try to pull him up and back onto the bed. “Are you thirsty? Hungry?”
He helps pull himself up, thank goodness. I couldn’t have managed on my own. Sweat drips from his brow. His body continues to fight the fever. He looks into my eyes and blinks. “My angel.” He coughs through the smile.
I grab the water and herbs, pouring it in his mouth a little at a time. He takes a more generous offer of the liquid this time. His extreme thirst causes him to finish it. I refill it. “There, is that better now?”
He lays his head back against the pillow and moans. “Better…now…my angel.” I smile and clean the spot on the floor where he fell, hiding the evidence of his untimely awakening. His breathing slows, his chest rising at normal intervals, and his body responds to the herbs.
I peak out of the door, watching the villagers near the nightly meeting place. The fire pit spews flames into the air. Haku talks with some of the children, preparing fo
r his nightly tale. Keyon sits by the edge, close enough to hear and observe our ritual. I turn toward Tao. He’s sleeping again. Do I risk it? I decide he should be fine. I can see my hut well from the fire ring.
Apela sees me approaching and squints a warning to Keyon. Keyon doesn’t notice. I join Kenyon at the edge of the circle, away from prying ears but close enough to hear the nightly tale.
“What is this?” Keyon asks.
“The village gathers at night for entertainment. Don’t you have storytellers?” I ask.
He nods and returns his attention to Haku.
“And so the story begins…” Haku holds his arms up into the air, as he does at the beginning of every story. “Twenty-four thousand full moons ago, in a land not far away, lived a far advanced civilization. One that had pipes that brought water to their very dwellings.” The children giggle. “It’s true. I swear it.” He crosses his chest and continues. “The people traveled long distances in a short amount of time. They even talked with one another over long distances through devices they held in their hands. But, the civilization did not appreciate what they had, for they did not have the greatest thing of all.”
“What?” one of the children asks. “What was the greatest of all things?” His eyes bulge, waiting for the answer.
“Child, it’s peace.”
The children sigh, having expected some greater answer.
Keyon huffs.
“Now, now. Let me tell the tale.” He waits until the children fall silent and only the crackle of the fire can be heard. “In this land, many declared themselves ruler of his people. The lands had several rulers spread out, ruling over hundreds of thousands of people. But, the rulers wanted more people and more land to rule over. Greed blocked their judgment.”
Awe spreads through the younger crowd sitting in the front. Keyon’s eyes stay fixed on Haku as he watches and listens to his tall tale. I smile.
“Tell us about the talking devices,” one of the children blurts out.
Haku shakes his head. “Not tonight, Leslu. Tonight it’s the story of their end.” Birds burst through the foliage behind the camp just after Haku said “their end,” and everyone jerks back and laughs at the timing. “For them, the end was near. You see, the rulers couldn’t agree to peace. Greed got the best of them. They made up untruths to declare war on one another.”
“What untruths?” someone asks.
“The lands believed in differing beginnings and practiced differing devotions. They wrote different texts with written rules in which to follow, claiming their texts were the right ones. But, the texts were different everywhere, not one of them the same.
“So the rulers of the lands fought one another, claiming their way was the supreme and righteous way.”
“Did they all kill each other?” one of the children asks.
“Well, the wars took many casualties, and many lost their lives because of the greed they were taught to follow. Their technologies were destroyed. The people became their own enemy. But, that is not what ended the people.
“What destroyed the people was the very thing that created them in the first place. The earth hurt, too. The earth received massive damage during the war by all the people. Garbage lay in the streets, and crops were destroyed. The earth became angry and knew it needed to destroy the evil people once and for all. So it rose up and swallowed the bad people, one and all.”
The crowd watches Haku’s arm gestures as he described the earth gobbling up the people, and the children gasp. I remember Haku telling this story before, but it’s not one he enjoys telling too often. Keyon’s eyes are closed, his head shaking. I know Haku told this story tonight for the stranger sitting next to me. Keyon runs his hands through his hair, rises, and walks toward my hut. The crowd disperses, and the villagers continue to chatter with one another.
“What? He didn’t enjoy the story?” Apela asks, eyeing Keyon as he helps Inoa to her feet.
“Don’t start anything, Apela,” I say.
“He’s not sociable with the others, Alania.” Apela rubs his neck. “I don’t trust him. Maybe you should stay in our hut tonight.”
“No, I will not abandon my patient for your worries, Apela. I am a healer, no longer a child. You need to stop treating me as one.” I storm off toward my hut. The nerve of him trying to be the protective brother now. Doesn’t he realize I will be married soon? I swallow wrongly, sending me into a coughing fit.
A slap on the back catches me off guard, and I almost fall forward to the ground.
“Sorry.” Keyon steps back, giving me space to rearrange myself. “Looked like you were choking.”
I take in a long breath. “I’m fine. Just had a bit of trouble.”
We walk up to the hut and through my door, which he holds open for me. I nod.
“My brother has been sleeping too much.” He sits on Apela’s old cot. It squeaks from his weight. His gaze searches the flames in the fire pit. I’m glad I remembered to add wood before the story began.
“His body is fighting the infection. It’s normal.” I stoke the fire and add a log.
“It’s the stuff you’ve been feeding him, isn’t it?” He looks at the bag. “The herbs keep him sleeping, right?”
“They help him heal and, yes, cause him to want to sleep.” I dust off my hands and change Tao’s cloth. His fever has lessened. I breathe out a sigh of relief.
“The story your leader told…does he believe those things?” Keyon asks.
I chuckle. “Sometimes I think he does. They are stories that have been passed down from our ancestors. You know, Haku isn’t our leader. He just arranges marriages and tells stories. He’s consulted on other things from time to time because he is old and wise. We work together as a village, each of us having specific duties. Isn’t it the same in Lanui?”
He closes his eyes and lies back on the cot. “I’m sure it is.”
The more he talks like this, the more I worry about his village. “Are you telling me you don’t know?”
“I’m tired. I know my village. It’s the same.” He turns over and yawns. “My brother and I are rarely there. We’re mostly away hunting.”
“I see,” I say, but still don’t understand. Our hunters come back daily and don’t wonder far from camp as these brothers have. I shake my head and settle into the bedding.
“Do you believe those stories? About the earth swallowing the people?” he asks.
“No,” I say aloud, but I’ve often contemplated the stories. “I’m not sure some of the things Haku talks about are possible. Flying ships and devices that speak in your ear. I like to imagine they are, but how could it be?”
“I don’t know,” he whispers. “I’m not sure what I believe anymore.”
The wind stops, and I turn toward the fire and watch the flames catch the new log. I’m beginning to think Lanui will be a scary endeavor.
THE FIRE IS OUT, and light weaves its way into the hut while I blink awake. A large body blocks the door, leaning against the frame, watching the sea. He turns and smiles. It looks like Keyon, but something’s off. His scar is missing. I sit up and look at Tao’s cot. It’s empty.
5
“Tao?” I ask.
He raises his hands in the air.
Keyon jumps up from his cot and embraces his brother. “You scared the life out of me.”
“And you brought it back to me.” Tao’s soft voice differs from his brother’s deeper tone. “Where are we exactly?” Tao examines my home, and then his eyes fix on me.
Keyon backs up and follows his gaze. “Tao, your savior, Alania.”
He steps closer, studying me. The corners of his mouth turn up. “My angel.” His eyes are as blue as his brother’s.
My cheeks warm. “I’m no angel, only a healer. Are you hungry?”
“I’d thought you’d never ask.” He winks at me. His grin reveals pearly white teeth.
Keyon pats his back and leads him to the steps on my porch. He lowers his voice when speaking to Tao
, masking their words. Keyon undoubtedly fills him in on all that’s happened while he was ill. I spoon a good portion of broth and bread for Tao.
“Thank you.” He takes it, placing the bowl to his lips.
“Don’t eat too quickly. You’ll end up purging all your contents if your stomach isn’t settled enough.” My stomach flutters with excitement at his recovery. His color returns to his cheeks.
“You have a very nice village here.” Tao’s wide eyes take in Molu’s surroundings, his gaze pausing when he sees people completing their morning chores.
Apela stares at us from his hut on the other side of the village. He struts toward us, puffing his chest out,
“Hide your necklace,” I say to Tao.
Tao’s brow rises. Keyon jerks his head in Apela’s direction, and Tao tucks his necklace under his shirt.
Glancing down the shore, there’s no sign a coffin washed up overnight, and my nerves calm.
“Looks like your patient’s well now.” Apela crosses his arms. “They won’t need to stay at your hut anymore, Sister.”
“Is that the way to greet guests, Apela? No introductions? No smile?” I glare at him.
“It’s better than hurling myself at him.” Apela touches a purple bruise on the side of his cheek. I didn’t realize he’d been hurt when Keyon slammed into him on the beach.
Tao glances at Keyon, who shrugs. Tao frowns.
“I’m Tao. I apologize for my brother’s actions. We won’t be here much longer. I’m beginning to feel better, especially getting some food in me.”
“There’s plenty of room at Kahanu’s for sick patients, and you look well enough to walk now.” Apela’s not backing down. He stands tall, arms still crossed. “You’ve taken enough of Alania’s time. She has other duties to tend to.”
“Of course.” Tao rises too quickly and loses his balance. Keyon grabs him, making sure he doesn’t fall over.
“Apela, go tend to your chores, and leave the sick to me.” I glower.
Shore of Graves (Underwater Island Series Book 1) Page 3
