The waves lapped over the war barge’s prow, throwing a heavy spray over Poli‘ahu. They’d chosen to hold the assault at night to leave Waimea less prepared. Besides being a major power center for the invaders, Waimea had offered friendship to Pele. A crime Poli‘ahu intended to see made an example of.
That kupua had come to her mountain and challenged her. That Pele had cheated on the sled race offered little surprise. That she had survived, though, represented a supreme threat to Poli‘ahu’s legitimacy. Her first instinct had been to hunt down the Flame Queen and see her soul torn from her body and sent down to the freezing wastes of Milu.
But the Flame Queen had almost overcome Poli‘ahu in her own domain. She couldn’t risk an open confrontation in terrain without snow. No, better to undermine Pele’s credibility and demoralize her allies with swift retaliation.
Kaupeepee’s crew provided the perfect opportunity to pursue that end. Waimea mattered to him only because he’d heard of the beauty of Hina, a kupua herself, and possibly even a descendant of the great Mo‘oinanea. A powerful bloodline, and one Poli‘ahu would rather remain under their control than the invaders’. Any heir Kaupeepee got on Hina would provide a boon to the next generation.
A chill breeze swept over the barge, billowing Poli‘ahu’s skirt and hair. That feeling, of something unnatural sweeping over her, raising the hair on her neck—she knew what it meant. She embraced the Sight to look into Pō, and sure enough, Lilinoe’s white form flitted about on the ship.
The others could not see her or hear her, of course, but a palpable sense of unease had settled over the crew regardless. The uncomfortable feeling men got when ghosts and spirits drew near, looking at them through the Veil.
“You again failed to kill the queen …” A whisper on the wind. An accusation that lanced at Poli‘ahu’s mind like shards of obsidian.
Much as Poli‘ahu might have preferred to bring Nalani along, her friend was safer back on Vai‘i in Hilo. The snow akua alone accompanied her for this attack.
“I underestimated her,” Poli‘ahu mumbled under her breath.
A few men glanced her way, as if uncertain if she’d spoken.
“Fail again … I may need another … in which to place my support …”
Poli‘ahu pointedly blinked the Sight away, in no mood for the akua’s chastisement or threats. Yes, she had tried twice to kill Pele and failed. Of course, Lilinoe herself might have chosen to lend more power those times and changed the outcome, but no. No, the akua expected Poli‘ahu to continuously prove herself worthy.
Well, that was exactly what she was doing.
She was going to see the invaders driven back to Kahiki no matter what it took. No matter how many of them she had to see slain and savaged. She would save her people.
Kaupeepee’s sandals clomped on the deck as he drew near. The warrior pointed up ahead, toward tiny fires on the horizon. “Waimea. Almost time.”
Kaua‘i. A bastion for these invaders. Any of the old dynasty supporting these people were traitors who deserved whatever befell them now.
“Remember there are kupua among them,” Poli‘ahu said. “We need to get in, grab whatever we can, and get out before they realize what’s happening.”
“Yeah, all that matters is grabbing hold of Hina.”
Poli‘ahu shook her head. “Beware of her kin.”
“Eh. Can’t say as I’m too worried about that. That’s why we got a kupua of our own.” He cocked his head at her.
Yes. “Leave me.”
Now, she had no choice but to look back across the Veil into Pō. Expose herself to Lilinoe’s ire once more. The eldest and most powerful of the snow akua, Lilinoe commanded the others, and Poli‘ahu could do little save bargain with her. The others, however, she could exert more influence over.
“Kahoupokane,” she whispered. A moment later, the snow akua drifted up beside Lilinoe. “Bring the mist. Blanket the village in it to conceal us.”
Kahoupokane did not answer, just turned and flitted off the ship and out of view.
Poli‘ahu felt Lilinoe staring at her with that unblinking gaze.
“I will weep for you if you fail,” the snow akua said.
Poli‘ahu winced and released the Sight once more. Already, a fog was rising off the sea. A great cloud of billowing white that looked like it could have rolled down from Mauna Kea itself. The vapors engulfed the war barge and canoes and spread out, probably already reaching into the village.
Some of the crew began to whisper to each other, clearly discomfited by the unnatural weather. All mortals instinctively feared the Otherworldly. Whatever came from beyond the Veil was tainted with alien intent and malice. Akua reached into the Mortal Realm in often subtle ways, shifting the weather, blighting or aiding crops, spreading or abating disease. Sometimes, men never noticed their touch at all.
When they did, Poli‘ahu always got the impression even the bravest warriors among them would rather be huddled under a blanket around a fire. There was a perverse pleasure in seeing otherwise prideful men brought to fear, especially by something she had called up.
The billowing fog swept in over the village, but no shouts of alarm went up. Most folk were asleep, no doubt, and why should those awake fear a mist off the sea? They didn’t understand. Not yet.
Kaupeepee’s men leapt over the side of the barge without war cries. Just splashes in the water no one on land would have heard. A hundred warriors here, and five hundred more in the canoes, all stalking like ghosts through the mist, closing in upon unsuspecting Waimea.
Poli‘ahu suppressed a twinge of pity for the villagers. These were invaders. They deserved neither mercy nor her regard. The dead she would offer to Lilinoe and win back the snow akua’s favor.
When the ship drew as close as it could without grounding, Poli‘ahu too leapt into the water. Most of the men had stripped out of their malos before getting wet, but Poli‘ahu kept her clothes on, heedless of her skirt getting soaked.
The shouts had begun now. Screams.
Wet thwacks as clubs and axes met skulls and limbs. All around, the fog rolled on, like a blanket suffocating Waimea. Almost stifling the shrieks of the people as they died or ran.
Two of Kaupeepee’s warriors had a girl caught between them, dragging her away.
Poli‘ahu grimaced. She’d warned them to make this fast. Let them bring prisoners for that sort of thing, not do it here.
Well, let the imbeciles get left behind for the survivors to deal with. Whoever came out as king after this might well have those fools castrated and offered up to Kū. And they would deserve both.
Poli‘ahu pushed on, catching sight of Kaupeepee himself, as he and a throng of his men fought their way to Hakalanileo’s palace. What had been his palace, rather, since word had come he was dead and Hina’s son now ruled here. Maybe it was better to kill the boy, too, rather than leave a potential kupua threat behind them.
Kaupeepee hurled a javelin at a defender. The man tried to catch it but moved too slow, perhaps addled by awa or sleep. The missile lanced into his chest and dropped him in a heap. Kaupeepee planted his foot on the fallen man and ripped the javelin free, hardly pausing in his advance.
Yes, Poli‘ahu had chosen her warrior champion wisely.
A concentrated force charged out of the palace now, their exact numbers concealed by the fog. Kaupeepee’s men raced up to meet them, breaking into a chaotic melee.
There was little Poli‘ahu could do in such circumstances, so instead she allowed her own form to become mist, drawing on Waiau’s power to merge with the fog, then drifting up to the palace itself. They had come for Hina and could not lose sight of that. The loss of one whom legend called the most beautiful in all Sawaiki—that would crush the invaders’ hopes.
A pearl, they called her, named for Maui’s own wife. But the old dynasty were the true heirs of Maui, and having an invader claim kinship to him even by name was an insult. Yes, she would see these people humbled and broken.
As vapor, she flowed through an open window and into the palace. Inside, women and children had clustered together, huddled on mats, holding each other tight. Terrified.
There was no place for pity for these people.
There was no place for it.
One of the women exuded Mana, setting Poli‘ahu’s Ethereal skin tingling so intensely she didn’t even need to look into Pō to see the power of her aura. That was Hina.
“What in Lua-o-Milu?” A young man said. He too, seemed flush with Mana. Her son. Was that Kana? He was younger than Poli‘ahu had thought.
Still, he came up, knife in hand, advancing on her mist like he knew it had a will. Unafraid of the unnatural vapors billowing in through the window? Or desperate to seem unafraid.
Either way, Poli‘ahu reassumed her human form with a wave of her kihei. Mist and frost continued to swirl around her ankles. She needed to make sure no one had any doubt she’d come for Hina herself.
The young man’s eyes narrowed, and he advanced on her, knife pointed at her throat. “Get back.”
“Niheu!” Hina wailed. “Don’t get close to her!”
Oh. Not Kana, then. Another son. A shame … had she killed Kana, she might have brought down this whole cursed branch of the invader dynasty.
Poli‘ahu pointed a finger at the young man, looking into Pō. “Kahoupokane.”
Niheu looked about frantically, but, of course, he couldn’t see the snow akua circling him. Whispering things he could not hear, yet his soul might perceive. Promises of damnation. Seeds of doubt. The man’s hand shook, knife trembling as the snow akua prodded at every insecurity deep in his breast.
In his hesitation, Poli‘ahu lunged at him, pressing her palm into his solar plexus. She poured cold through her hands, freezing his chest.
Niheu screamed and collapsed. Those cries would bring warriors charging in here any moment. Poli‘ahu dropped with her knees on his chest and let her pain surge into him. All of that awful chill.
His skin grew brittle, turned blue. His screams slowly died as ice crystals formed on his eyes.
These were invaders. They had come to take her homeland away. To destroy her dynasty, subvert her people, suppress her culture. They had made themselves enemies of all the history and traditions brought forth from Savai‘i in the time of Maui. Her people were the true children of Nu‘u and lords of Sawaiki.
Their enemies deserved no mercy.
“Niheu!” Hina bellowed, breaking free of her attendant ladies and racing at Poli‘ahu with a knife of her own.
Poli‘ahu broke contact with the boy and rose to meet Hina’s charge. A burst of freezing mist flew from her fingers and rushed over the other queen. All at once, Hina lost her momentum and stumbled to one knee. The knife clattered from her hand as she wrapped her hands around her arms, teeth chattering, eyes wide in anger and fear.
No mercy.
Poli‘ahu wrapped her fingers in Hina’s hair and yanked the woman up, dragging her toward a back door. Hina sounded like she meant to scream, but only managed a wheeze through her chattering teeth.
Other women had begun to shriek in horror though, and one rushed at Poli‘ahu, attempting to bar her way.
Enough of this. Poli‘ahu formed an icicle in her palm and launched it at the interloper like a thrown javelin. The ice dart exploded through the woman’s throat and dropped her in a bloody heap.
Hina moaned.
No mercy.
Poli‘ahu dragged Hina around, and out the door, then back into the mist. She slapped a hand over the woman’s mouth, just in case those moans might attract would-be rescuers.
Deeper into the mist Poli‘ahu pushed, until she came to the melee out front. There, a kupua had torn through Kaupeepee’s men like a typhoon of death. A score of corpses lay at his feet, more piling up as he twisted around with inhuman reflexes, planting a dagger in a man’s gut while dodging a spear thrust and elbowing another man. All seemingly at the same time.
Kana.
It had to be.
And if Poli‘ahu killed him now, it would prove a huge boon for her people. On the other hand, she’d already used a substantial amount of Mana to get this far. What if the kupua managed to rescue his mother?
No, Poli‘ahu could not afford to take that chance.
Instead, she dragged the struggling woman back toward the boats.
“Retreat,” she whispered into the mist, trusting Waiau to carry her voice on the wind and reach Kaupeepee’s ears.
* * *
Hina’s teeth still chattered when the men yanked her from the sea up onto the war barge. One of them yanked off the woman’s pa‘u. Poli‘ahu fixed the man with a gaze that suddenly had him backing away, looking over his shoulder like he might leap over the side and into the sea.
She looked to Ilima. “Get the woman a blanket before she catches frostbite.”
Kaupeepee’s man grunted in acknowledgment, then threw a tapa cloth around Hina’s shoulders.
Soon, Kaupeepee himself reached the barge, and they pushed off, followed by the war canoes.
“How many men did we lose?” Ilima asked his commander.
“I’m not sure. A lot more than we expected. Aheahe for sure. And that bastard Kana cut Aouli’s throat like a fucking pig.” Kaupeepee sniffed and shook his head. “Too fucking fast. He’s a runner, I bet.” He looked to Hina, but the woman said nothing. A long time, he just stared at her.
Grumbling, Kaupeepee finally tromped off, below the deck.
“Why?” Hina asked, voice shaking.
Expressionless, Poli‘ahu knelt beside her. “Why did we take you?”
“Why did you stop that man from claiming his prize?”
A streak of viscousness had her about to say because Hina belonged to Kaupeepee, but the truth was, she’d have stopped him either way. Whatever would happen when they returned to Haupu—and some of the women were treated well, at least according to Kaupeepee—Poli‘ahu had no intention of watching another woman suffer.
“I admit,” she said after a moment. “I’ve no particular love of men. But …” She sighed. “Well, men like Kaupeepee have their uses.” She edged closer to the other kupua. “Your people think you can come to our isles and claim them for yourselves. That arrogance, that crime, will prove your undoing. I’m taking these lands back, you see. I will kill the Kahikian queens, Pele, Namaka, and whoever else has come from across the Worldsea. I will break the heirs of Uli with sorcery more ancient and powerful than they can conceive of. I will gut Kapo like the pig she is. But if you are very lucky, when you provide Kaupeepee with a kupua heir, you may be allowed to return across the Worldsea to Kahiki.”
Hina winced.
Poli‘ahu rose. “Your people’s time in Sawaiki is coming to an end.”