by Matt Larkin
Ah, but the more learned of the kāhuna knew the truth of creatures like Matsya. The mer were akua from somewhere beyond the darkness of Pō, and in this world, they needed human hosts. The young, beautiful, the strong, they took as vessels for their souls.
“If I refuse?” she asked.
Matsya bared his shark-like teeth, exposing a mouth that opened too wide for a human. “Do you truly wish to earn the enmity of Hiyoya?”
“Do you truly wish enemies on land if your war with Mu goes poorly?”
The merman softened a moment, lips hiding those vicious teeth, posture relaxing. “I say this in truthful concern for your people, Queen Namaka. Queen Latmikaik will remember those who vexed her during this time, and sooner or later, she’ll come looking to repay every slight. On this island, you are mighty. But you cannot begin to fathom the vast powers lurking in the depths of the Worldsea. Uluka‘a is a smaller place than I think you realize.”
Namaka waved that away. “You’ll have your sacrifices. But I expect you to count any claimed by the mer from among those I just drowned toward that number.”
“We already did. The queen sent me for two dozen sacrifices.”
Namaka grimaced, but inclined her head to Leapua. The kahuna would round up the sacrifices from among the commoners, assuming no criminals were held to fill the quota. She looked back to Matsya. “Something else?”
The merman shook his head and turned, slipping away, back into the lagoon.
Namaka suppressed the sudden urge to turn the waves against him and smash him on the rocks. It was a petty thought, one that would bring awful reprisal upon Uluka‘a. Still, she had to believe, one day, she might free her island from this hateful tribute.
She was, after all, the Sea Queen.
5
Near the bow of her canoe, Poli‘ahu watched as they circled the island of Moloka‘i, thin streams of mist billowing from her fingertips and brushing over the waters with each rise and fall of the boat.
Ahead, she could almost make it out. The fortress of Haupu, rising from the cliffs like a stone monument to the akua, jutting up five hundred feet above sea level. Men called it unassailable. Almost sheer declivities sat on either side, overgrown with vegetation and flowing with waterfalls that made climbing those slopes impossible.
The fortress had long ago fallen into disrepair, but the warrior Kaupeepee had rebuilt it in secret, stone by stone, in order to give himself a stronghold against the invading Kahikians. He had laid a new wall along the mountain’s only pass, ten feet thick and twenty feet high, barring access to the promontory. They had then dug away at the slope beneath the wall, heightening the drop. An army would tear itself to pieces trying to assault Kaupeepee here.
Poli‘ahu could not help but admire his gall. While Moloka‘i remained a bastion of the old ways, it was a tiny island with little real power. The newcomers had failed to subsume it through force or marriage only because of its low population, intractable terrain, and lack of strategic importance. Ah, but then, Kaupeepee aimed to change all that.
And Poli‘ahu would see him succeed.
Behind her, Nalani climbed along the length of the canoe, until the woman sat just behind Poli‘ahu. “He’s been known to abduct women. How do you know we’re safe?”
Poli‘ahu quirked a smile at that. She’d brought four canoes full of warriors as an escort, but Nalani ought to know Poli‘ahu herself would also not be easily overcome. She commanded forces of Pō and beyond.
Even in the failing daylight, she could feel the snow akua shifting beneath her skin, wakeful in the back of her mind.
Pō meant night. Appropriate, since the world beyond the Mortal Realm was a world of eternal starlight. A world of shifting shadows men could not see and fell whispers men could not hear.
But Poli‘ahu could.
The Queen of Mauna Kea, as her people sometimes called her, possessed the Sight. Any sorceress of merit had to in order to look beyond the Veil and see the entities they dealt with from Pō. And Poli‘ahu was no mere sorceress, but a kupua, a descendant of the very gods from the farthest reaches of Pō.
Not that any display of force or the Art should prove necessary. “Kaupeepee is known to abduct the invaders,” Poli‘ahu told her counselor. “I represent the old dynasty, the heirs of Maui. You think he would dare lay a finger on me and undermine his entire claim at righteousness?”
“Uh, I was thinking about myself, actually,” the other woman said. “I heard he’s as hairy as a damn boar.”
Poli‘ahu chuckled. She kept few women in her court. Men were, after all, more easily controlled. Any woman could drive a man to folly with a look, but a sorceress, drawing strength from Pō, could bestir their loyalty to fanatical levels. Her warriors would kill and die for her without a hint of hesitation. Were she to command any man on these boats to leap in the sea and try to swim back to Vai‘i, that man would do so, caring nothing that it would mean his death.
Nalani was the exception. Nalani’s devotion came from friendship, from a life saved long ago, rather than the sycophantic obsession of a befuddled mind. Her loyalty therefore meant more. Her counsel held real value because, unlike the hundred warriors back there, Nalani would not only tell Poli‘ahu what they thought she wanted to hear.
Poli‘ahu reached back and patted the other woman’s hand. Nalani would never break tabu by initiating physical contact, but once Poli‘ahu had done so, the woman clasped her hand. She harbored actual fears about this, didn’t she? Nalani had been taken by Kahikian raiders as a young woman, a prize to be carried away.
Poli‘ahu had saved her by chance when destroying the Kahikians. The woman never spoke of her dread, but clearly she feared ever becoming another man’s plunder. Indeed, Nalani had showed no real interest in any of the men in the whole of Poli‘ahu’s kingdom. She wanted, Poli‘ahu suspected, to be Poli‘ahu’s aikāne, but Poli‘ahu felt no real physical attraction to the woman.
As a queen, she could have any man she desired, and slept alone only when she climbed the slopes of Mauna Kea to meditate and seek answers from Pō.
Poli‘ahu squeezed Nalani’s hand. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Trust me.”
“Hmm. Always.”
Looking into Pō was like looking into a whispering storm. A stirring cauldron of shadows filled with alien presences. Ghosts, of course, watching the living, often hating them for the lives they now resented. Other ghosts remained beneficent, watching over their descendants as ‘aumākua.
Such ghosts Poli‘ahu saw now, as she climbed the steep slope toward Haupu. Some remained human-like, while others projected themselves as animals. Sharks in the water, hawks watching from tree branches, a dog walking the shore. No one else saw them, of course.
None of Kaupeepee’s people had accosted their canoes nor come to meet them on the beach. Perhaps he knew who she was, perhaps he was just curious to see how she would handle the climb.
Either way, Poli‘ahu passed the trek by looking through the Veil, peering into the shifting darkness that swirled around. Looking in meant a part of herself passed through the Veil and thus became real to the ghosts. Seeing them meant being seen by them. They did not, however, much frighten her any more.
Lilinoe moved beside her, a goddess of snow and mist, an akua that few ghosts would dare approach. Waiau, another akua, was inside Poli‘ahu now, bound to her, while Kahoupokane remained back on Vai‘i. But Lilinoe had agreed to come here and watch over Poli‘ahu. Oh, the akua held limited power to influence the Mortal Realm directly, especially before the sun set, but Lilinoe still wielded enormous power.
By welcoming one of the snow akua inside herself, even for a short time, Poli‘ahu could increase her power by an order of magnitude. The spirits could carry her will, her curses and blessings, far and wide.
No, Poli‘ahu had no fear of ghosts nor of Kaupeepee’s men.
“There are new powers in these islands.” Lilinoe’s voice was a whisper carried on the winds of Pō, sibilant and cares
sing. Hearing such a voice might have broken the minds of men, but fortunately, her warriors could not hear the akua. Garbed in white, her skin pale, Lilinoe almost looked like a cloud.
“New kupua have arrived from Kahiki.” Poli‘ahu had felt their presence on the currents of Pō, creating psychic waves with their power. After all, any such power came from Pō, or at least through Pō. Poli‘ahu had known these foreigners were coming long before their arrival. She had felt their power, almost overwhelming.
Nalani looked at her—the woman now seemed a shadow on the far side of the Veil—as if curious what Poli‘ahu was talking about. “That’s why we came, right? You said we needed to secure allies before these new arrivals joined the Kahikians.”
Indeed. But Nalani’s voice sounded muffled now, as if heard from behind a wall. Poli‘ahu held up a hand to forestall further questions. Besides, Nalani knew better than to ask how Poli‘ahu knew the things she knew.
Lilinoe paid little attention to Nalani, and Poli‘ahu was never sure whether the akua could even hear conversations in the Mortal Realm, especially in daylight. “One of them pulls hateful flames from the burning world.”
Poli‘ahu frowned. These new kupua would ruin everything if she let them. Already, the native Sawaikians struggled to maintain any sense of identity. Bloodlines became hopelessly polluted through constant intermarriage with the invaders. Those who wouldn’t blend blood often found waiting spears instead. The Kahikians were stealing the entire archipelago, one island at a time.
Poli‘ahu would not surrender Vai‘i. Never.
Kaupeepee’s grand wall had no gate. Rather, the only entrance was a tunnel running through the mountain, so deep Poli‘ahu had to wonder if the menehune themselves had dug it. At the moment it stood open, but Poli‘ahu could see a boulder on rollers that Kaupeepee’s men could use to block the tunnel and render it completely inaccessible.
The warrior himself soon emerged from the tunnel, at the head of his warriors. He wore nothing but a malo around his waist and a headband, showing off his muscular torso and arms thick as tree branches, covered in tribal tattoos.
Not just a warrior. A prince, in fact, though he’d forsaken his claim to the throne in order to isolate his family from repercussions from his actions. Thus far, it had a worked. His brother Keoloewa remained the King of Moloka‘i, and none of the invader chiefs had visited reprisals on this island for any of Kaupeepee’s raids.
“Do you know who I am?” Poli‘ahu asked.
“Queen Poli‘ahu of Hilo. So-called Snow Queen of Mauna Kea and would-be ruler of all Vai‘i.” Kaupeepee shrugged. “Would-be, if your forces didn’t keep losing to the invaders.”
Poli‘ahu stiffened at the warrior’s slights. Yes, she might fight him now, might even defeat him and claim Haupu for herself. But she could not remain here when her kupua powers came from snows on taller mountains. “I’ve no wish for us to become enemies.”
Kaupeepee grinned. “If I thought you did, you’d never have made it through the channels with those canoes. No, I just want to be clear where we stand.”
“On the brink of annihilation.”
“What?”
“Our way of life is ending. The kāhuna of Kahiki impose new tabus all across Sawaiki. The Kahikians blend their blood with our own. You and I are descendants of Nu‘u and heirs of Maui the Firebringer. These islands are his legacy, found in the deep Worldsea, and left to us. And the Kahikians think they can come here after centuries of separation and claim lordship over the archipelago?”
Kaupeepee folded his arms over his chest. “Why do you think I’ve built this place?”
Poli‘ahu craned her neck up to take in Haupu. Yes, it could probably accommodate three thousand warriors, though she doubted Kaupeepee had half that many under his command. That was part of his problem. He could annoy the invaders and they could not touch him. He could not, however, achieve any real victory against them.
After looking around a bit more, Poli‘ahu turned back to the warrior. “You’ve been undertaking this self-appointed mission for what, five years now?”
“Six.”
“Fine, six. I imagine you’ve lost a few men along the way.”
A sour grumble ran through the warriors gathered behind Kaupeepee. She’d heard he accepted the services of only the most daring fighters, and only those with pure Sawaikian blood.
“What if I could offer you another thousand warriors and a war barge that could ferry more than a hundred men across great distances?”
Kaupeepee’s mouth slowly fell open and he glanced over his shoulder at his men. “Let’s go inside, shall we? Yourself and a reasonable number of guards.”
“All my men deserve food and rest.”
The warrior peered over her shoulder at the gathered throng of her people, then nodded roughly. His men, bearing torches, proceeded back through the tunnel, and Kaupeepee himself escorted Poli‘ahu.
The tunnel was, in places, uncomfortably narrow, with a feeling of pressing in over her head. The work was rough—definitely not menehune—and the soil looked wet enough she imagined the ground filled with mud in the rains. Considering the precipitous slope, making this trek probably posed a major risk at such times.
“I have heard of your victory over Olopana of O‘ahu.” That victory, in fact, was the first time she’d given Kaupeepee real consideration as an ally.
“Hehe. Yeah, we raided all up and down his coasts. Kāne, those were days. We had almost a hundred war canoes hanging back until after dark, then we’d all slip in, hit two, three villages all at the same time. Olopana was fucking livid, I can bet. We grabbed one of his kahuna’s daughters that day.”
Poli‘ahu frowned, but said nothing.
“Oh, don’t go getting the wrong idea, anyway,” the warrior continued. “We treated her right, didn’t harm her a bit. After a year, we asked her if she wanted to go back. Eh, well, Ilima asked her, anyway.” Kaupeepee pointed to one of the torchbearers. “She said no. You believe that? In the end, she married Ilima and now they’re expecting a little one soon.”
“You don’t consider her blood tainted, coming from invader lineage?”
Kaupeepee grunted. “Look, I don’t want to see our way of life end, like you said. I don’t want the invaders running the archipelago, setting the tabus, and becoming the kings. Doesn’t mean we have to kill all their women.”
They exited the tunnel and began to climb up to the fortress proper, which was also past another wall. Inside, Kaupeepee’s people had built numerous dwellings for warriors and a heiau for prayer to the ‘aumākua.
Poli‘ahu also spotted several canoes sitting on the ground up here. “How do you get your canoes out of the gulches to escape pursuit?”
Kaupeepee led her up a staircase and onto the walls. He pointed down to a small, treacherous footpath, then indicated a series of pulleys. “We lift them on ropes, then our people follow on foot. Anyone fool enough to venture into the mouth of the gulch after our people …” He chuckled and waved his hands at great piles of stones and stacks of javelins in easy reach of the wall’s defenders.
A hail of death would rain on any who attacked the fortress, especially if they tried to climb the declivities out of the gulches.
He nodded as if realizing she could see it in her mind. “That’s what happened to Olopana, you know. The walking cock came after his kahuna’s daughter and went to my brother asking for me. My brother told him it wasn’t his responsibility to find criminals, but if Olopana wanted me, he’d tell them just where to look, and sent them here. Oh, I didn’t much mind my brother calling me a criminal. He has to, you know, if he doesn’t want his town sacked by those ghostfuckers.
“Anyway, Olopana came at us with sixty war canoes. Hundreds of warriors. Maybe he thought we’d break to see such numbers, I don’t know. But we …” He broke, chuckling. “We just started hurling down an avalanche of these fucking rocks.” He kept on snickering. “I mean we dashed those boats all into pieces, sending them down to
the bottom of the gulch to feed the sharks. Olopana, he turned his canoe right around and paddled all the way back to O‘ahu. Haven’t heard from him since. Couldn’t see it, of course, but I like to imagine the cock just pissed his malo and thought the akua themselves had turned on him!” Kaupeepee slapped Poli‘ahu’s shoulder in mirth.
A massive breach of tabu.
Frost formed in her hand. Poli‘ahu had to clench her fist to keep from reaching out and freezing his windpipe into a block of ice. How dare he touch her without her permission?
Deep inside, she felt Waiau’s desire to see him freeze. To die in torment.
Below, off the walls, both her people and his own had to have seen that. They’d be watching for her response.
War or peace.
Allies or enemies.
He should die for such a transgression. But she needed him. He was uncouth, rugged, and savage. But he was the man who might halt the invader advance, and considering the arrival of two powerful new kupua, Poli‘ahu would need every ally she could gather. She would push the Kahikians back into the ocean.
Let them cross the Worldsea and go back where they’d come from.
Or else bow down to her power and submit to her as queen of Vai‘i. Either would do.
Slowly, she extended her arm to Kaupeepee. “You did well with Olopana, but he’s hardly the greatest of the kings we contend with. So you shall have your war barge and your army. And then, we shall discuss breaking the invaders in half like coconuts.”
Kaupeepee took her arm, grinning like a child. “Then let’s crack some coconuts.”
6
Pele had awoken on a canoe, sailing away from Kaua‘i, with Aukele beside her. Her head felt like a drum, with musicians playing both the inside and the out. With a groan, she rolled over onto her side.
