Chapter 3
three
. . .
E’kili
My breaths come in ragged gasps as my feet pound against uneven terrain.
The underbrush claws my soles, but I can't stop. The t’ku’nuks are heavy on our trail.
We miscalculated. Never in a thousand years times ten did we think that men would tame the untamable, and use these great animals against us.
Their trunks blast, a trumpet of horns, shattering the night and alerting the soldiers to our whereabouts.
Their tusks snap branches, and the weight of heavily padded feet leaves zigzag patterns of cracked ground as they give chase.
They were never meant to be used this way.
Collars around their necks, their ears clipped, I mourn for them.
Long ago, they were friends. And now, they are slaves to the will of masters.
We round another gigantic marl which leads to the temple, and I run faster, my long legs pumping, heart thumping.
I will free the t’ku’nuks. I will free us all.
Spiked calcified trees greet us like a giant kelp forest, making me stumble in confusion. These aren’t the trees I danced with when I was young, nor the boulders I told my secrets to. The earth is like lava, scorching my toes. This isn’t a forest. This is where the dead things go.
Bones pile so high they look like dust white hills.
There is no grass, the trees have no leaves, and the plants, if I can call these brittle buds plants, bear no fruit.
The sun has scorched this ground. It is as if the dragon’s heart cut off circulation to this part in order to save the rest of the land.
“Here!” Ooki says in our mother tongue. She vanishes into an alternative path down the slopes.
Mytu’fi and I run after her. The explosions are less frequent now, and we can not seem to shake the t’ku’nuks off our trail. Once we get closer to the village, I’m sure we’ll be safe and hidden behind the temple's shield.
Caw-caw!
I glance up mid-run to see the mo’kures, once gentle birds that repeated the lullabies of our people, have caught up with us.
They swoop, dive between trees, and pluck at our hair and limbs.
They sing hateful curses. I bat the mo’kures away, not wanting to hurt these sacred creatures, but they are relentless.
The more they gather, the easier it will be for the soldiers to know our location.
We must act fast. My sisters and I rounded another corner made of weather-worn stone, no doubt erected to divide yet another line between us and them.
“Dead end.” Mytu’fi spins to face us, her chest heaving. Her colorful cowry shell necklace is caked with mud.
I instantly grab hold of mine, and the faint smell of sea wafts to my nose.
T’ku’nuks blow their trunks; this time, they’re half a mile closer.
“They went this way!” Shouts bark in the distance. There’s only a matter of time; we must get over this wall. Another miscalculation.
“There must be a way!” Ooki's tone clipped in frustration. She tests the wall for weaknesses. Pounds her fist against the base.
This wall appears to extend in both directions as far as the eyes can see. I can only assume that whether we go left or right, it can take days to find a way in, that’s if we don’t get caught first.
“We can not go back,” I say.
“No one said we were, sister.” Ooki twirls her necklace in her hands.
Her tongue clicks a curse word, but I don’t catch it.
I don't need to catch it. I feel her frustration wafting off of her like wings. She digs her fingers into the soil. I know what she’s thinking: use our mana, burrow under the wall.
Get to the other side. It might drain us of our mana for a few weeks, but as long as we are in the temple, hidden, then the soldiers won’t find where we are.
We’ll have time to recharge, open the seal, and retrieve the dragon’s heart.
Her runes glow gold, she cocks her left ear to the ground, and listens to what the earth speaks.
She nods, and no matter how many times I see her use her power, I’m always left speechless.
It’s like the earth, the water, the animals tell her secrets no one else can know.
“This is the last barrier,” she says, bowing to the earth in thanks, then standing. “Beyond this point is the temple. I’ll call the soil to carry you both the rest of the way.”
“No, you can’t!” Mytu’fi clicks her tongue. Since she’s the youngest, she doesn’t know the island like we do … did. She hasn’t learned to trust the land. “You must come with us. Without your mana, you will not escape. You will surely die.”
“Then die I must!” Ooki glows brighter.
The trees react to her mana. They shake, like a wiggling lure from an anglerfish line.
That’s right, I think. Instead of going underneath, we can go up.
I grab a branch, shimmy up the half-dying trees until I reach the sturdiest perch to balance on.
My legs and forearms burn, I swallow the bitter pain, and search beyond the wall.
The great dragon is much closer from this angle, the moonlight spills into not only the mouth, but the eyes as if moonbeam tears drip onto the village below.
Ooki is right, once over the wall, the way is clear. If we can swing from the tree branches over the wall, use a bit of our mana to scale it down, then all three of us would make it.
“We can make it,” I yell out. “Just climb, I think this tree will give us enough to jump the wall.”
Ooki and Mytu’fi didn’t waste a second. Mytu’fi goes first. A flock of mo’kures flap their long black wings and flash claws, gripping Mytu’fi’s locs, almost dragging her from the tree.
What is wrong with these creatures? When did they become so spiteful? I search the forest. Dead ahead, trees bristle. The t’ku’nuk have found us.
Ooki hasn’t started to climb. She takes out two sheath daggers to bat the creatures away.
I know Ooki wouldn’t kill them. Oh, no. These were once her creatures to sing to.
Together, these once tender birds would mimic the songs of her voice and carry it around the island for all to hear her latest song.
She fights them carefully, pushing them away just enough to warn and implement distance.
I scoot further down the tree, aiming to reach Mytu’fi, who’s struggling to climb.
Her legs are the weakest. She was only a child when she grew fins; she barely remembers how to walk.
The elders knew this mission would be her greatest challenge.
“Grab my hand!” I shout.
Rumbling, then a trumpet blasts. A t’ku’nuk cuts through the forest and aims at Ooki.
Ooki runs, then rolls out of the t’ku’nuk’s path.
His large body slams into our tree. I hold my grip, but barely.
The tree snaps from the sure strength of this 6-ton beast. Mytu’fi falls to the ground, nearly missing being trampled.
The t’ku’nuk flaps its massive ears, rears on its hind legs to crush Mytu’fi as she scrambles backward.
A warrior has no time to think, so I didn’t.
I scream, let go of the tree, and brace myself, landing on the beast's back. T’ku’nuk’s ears are the most sensitive member of their bodies.
Thousands of veins course through it. I pinch the tip of the right ear.
This one touch shifts the t’ku’nuk away from Mytu’fi in enough time for her to roll from harm.
A long tusk grabs at my legs, attempting to fling me from its back, but I hold on tight, not knowing if I can survive the fall.
Mo’kures squawk. Swooping. Clawing. I grip the t'ku'nuks' thick, shaggy fur.
“Go!” I say to my sisters, flicking the wing creatures away. “Go! While you can!”
T’ku’nuk thrashes, the Mo’kures peck my locs, yanking them in their beaks.
“Yu hohm ey!” Ooki glows. Her runes swirling over her rich brown skin.
Her singsong voice is heightened by the mana.
We are stronger on land than in the sea, and hearing her song without it being drowned out by water halts me.
As if remembering her voice, the mo’kures settle into the trees, and the great and fearsome t’ku’nuk pauses. Its ears perk to Ooki’s voice.
“Yu hohm ey. Ay ce’ yu, Reh’em ma’ voy.” Ooki’s runes swirl like mini whirlpools.
She’s burning too much mana too quickly.
We can not waste mana like this. Protecting me isn’t worth it.
Every ounce we lose is lessening our strength to open the temple’s walls and the stone floor that holds the Dragon’s Heart.
“Ooki, no!” I slide down the t’ku’nuk’s back and onto the ground.
Ooki unclasps her white cowrie necklace, flinging it to me.
She has already made her decision. In case she does not return to the sea, her cowrie will take her place.
She is sacrificing herself for us.
Mytu’fi is at my side, holding my shoulders, tears dot her cheeks, her whimpers—a drowning fish.
“We can still make it, we can go home, Ooki. You don’t have to do this, come with us! Plee'sa!” I shout. “Plee’sa!”
Ooki sings louder. The t’ku’nuk sways with the birds, with the trees, with the grass blossoming at Ooki’s feet.
Mytu’fi tugs me to the tree. She climbs, beckoning me to follow.
But I can’t. Ooki has been by my side since childhood.
She was my first kiss, first love, first heartbreak, my joy and sadness wrapped in one.
I don’t know how to live a life without her by my side. I refuse to believe it ends like this.
I’m not worth being saved.
“Plee’sa!” I beg her. It isn’t too late. We can complete this mission together. But Ooki doesn’t glance my way. She sings the moon’s heart song. It is a call for those who are lost, alone, the ones who crave home.
“Yu hohm ey. Ay ce’ yu, Reh’em ma’ voy. Kuhm t’ ey, kuhm t’ ey.”
Hugging her toes are bright yellow flowers. The earth is coming to life as if it has been gone too long and needed to hear the song, too. The t’ku’nuk is subdued. The mo’kures lazily litter the branches.