Ride the Moon: An Anthology (22 page)

He creeps closer, the Shinigami, the Reaper, the God of Death.

The dark side of the moon.

He stands beside Oz, wraps bone-thin arms around his shoulders. For a brief, hopeful moment, he imagines it's her. Her, who was always so good at comforting, who knew exactly what to say, how to make him feel worthy of basking in her light.

But it's not, it can't be, it never will be again.

“Monkey gave me the blood of her daughter to feast upon,” the traveler whispers in his ear. “Fox, the tears of his heart to drink.”

His voice rasps like chains on a rusted steel floor. The sound makes Oz want to scream.

“But the Rabbit withheld her sacrifice.” Clank, rasp, clank. “She did not throw herself upon the flames for my comfort. What will you offer in her place?”

Oz's heart beats so fast, he's afraid it's going to leap out of his chest and explode. There has to be a better way to go.

Seven a.m.

Once upon a time, long ago, a monkey, a rabbit, and a fox lived together as friends. During the day, they played upon the mountain; at night they returned home to the forest. All creatures sang of their unbreakable friendship, of how they lived their lives with bushido, with honour. Their lives were simple and unfettered from greed and hatred.

Until the Moon came down one night to test them.

He appeared disguised as an old traveler. “I have wandered through these mountains and valleys many days. Please, would you honour this old man with the comforts of something to eat and drink while I rest?”

The monkey went off at once to gather tree fruits, the sap staining her hands bright red. The fox brought river water he squeezed from his bushy, heart-shaped tail.

The rabbit, though, ran through the fields in every direction, hunting and scrounging with all her might, but came back with nothing.

Monkey and Fox teased her, “You are good for nothing.”

The little rabbit, not to be shamed, asked the monkey to gather some thistles and requested the fox to set fire to them.

Once done, Rabbit said to the old traveler, “Please, eat me,” and threw herself upon the flames.

The Moon was pierced to the heart by the rabbit's sacrifice and wept. So touched was he by Rabbit's loyalty and obedience, by the way she valued honour over life, that he restored the rabbit to her original form and took the little body to be buried in the palace of the moon, where her face would always shine for all to see.

This is not a fairy tale. No one will hang their bodies in the sky when they die.

The goddess Hele ordered her youngest daughter to marry a Hawaiian prince with whom she was well pleased. The young goddess, who loved a fisherman, refused and, crying, ran away to live on the moon. The story goes, Lani, that one of her teardrops landed back on earth and splashed a sea dragon's forehead. Over time that tear formed into a pearl that could influence the moon's gravitational pull.

Maia raised her four-meter long sinewy neck and extended her jaws past the protest of tendons and muscles. Blinking away the rain of blood flooding her eyes from the jagged gouge on her forehead, she then howled her protest at the loss of her soul stone.

Her tormented cry bounced off the water-smoothed granite of her underwater shelter and rippled through the Pacific Ocean, until the note burst into air and bathed the moonlit sky with tremors of pain.

Lightning answered her cry with mirrored anguish and thunder threatened retribution. Far above the earth, the moon's darker half shifted with disapproval.

On the southern edge of Vancouver Island, the Victorian streetlights, artfully decorated with lush hanging baskets, flickered. Lani studied the lamps with suspicion as her unease flared. Raindrops bounced off her hardhat and splashed her face.

When the Kai Kelekona calls
, her mother said before Lani left Hawaii,
even if you run halfway across the world, mark my words, you'll hear it.

Lani shook off her disquiet. Wielding her stop/slow sign, she safely moved cars past her road crew finishing a bike path and sidewalk adjacent to a grassy strip. Sea dragons were a myth. This job was real.

No one in our family has been called to action in over a century, Mama
, she'd said.
And I'm eighteen, not eleven. Fairytales aren't true and I refuse to waste years waiting to be of service to a mythical beast. I want my freedom. I want a life.

In Canada?
Her mother's response still made Lani smile.

Dark clouds hid the rising moon and the twilight sky turned pitch-black. She shivered beneath her reflective safety vest. The air fairly sizzled with angst. At the next thunderclap, her every nerve quivered as if someone had flicked a switch

Her silver ring, a family relic with a milky white stone, shot a burst of energy up her finger. She switched the traffic sign to her left hand and flexed her right inside her work glove.

“Focus, Aloha!” her boss shouted.

She scowled at the nickname more than the reprimand, and then motioned to oncoming cars. She raised her flagging sign and fought an absurd urge to drop the stupid sign and race toward
makai.

Yup, definitely seaward
. Something out there pleaded for her help.
Am I losing it?

Her boss's murderous expression as he sidestepped a vehicle that brushed by him said,
Yes
.

“Can we hurry up?” she asked. If this kept up, she'd be permanently finished in this job. “It's raining.”

“This is Victoria. Get used to it.”

Grace stretched out on her sofa and caressed her latest find—a legendary gold armband from India. She'd searched for this bracelet with its mystic runes for over two years. Finally, it was hers, a fine addition for her collection.

Ignoring the sudden patter of rain, she checked the TV. The interview had started. Her fingers trembled over her prize, reluctant to release it, even for Ace Stanton. Gripping the band, she reached for the clicker and turned up the volume.

“We're holding an emergency response exercise in two days time,” Ace said in his precise tone.

Her pulse sped up. Two years apart and still his deep voice affected her.

He stared into the camera as if he spoke directly to her. “This will be a joint effort involving the airport, ferries, and local fire departments, as well as the island's health authority and Coast Guard. All coordinated through my office at the new emergency preparedness centre in downtown Victoria.”

Lightning lit the sky as if daylight blinked. Thunder rumbled and the frames on her mantelpiece shook. One tumbled, smashing onto the hardwood floor. Grace went over and picked it up. Ace kissed her behind broken glass.

“We interrupt this program for breaking news.”

She returned to her seat, cradling the frame.

Ace had left. The host read from the teleprompter. “Reports are coming in of massive flooding on the west coast of Vancouver Island. Evacuation orders have been issued for Port Renfrew.”

The armband clattered onto the table. Ace was ambitious enough to risk using a dragon's pearl. She should never have told him about that monster sighting along the West Coast Trail!

Well past midnight, Lani finally got off work. She rubbed her temple to ease a headache. All night long,
the call
had sounded like an annoying trick-or-treater with his thumb planted on the doorbell. Ignoring it was no longer an option. She left a message for her roommate at the university's housing complex that she wouldn't be home, got into her ancient Fiat and headed west.

She was on the West Coast Road when flashing lights ahead indicated traffic was being re-routed. With a grumble, she pulled over and ran into the woods.

She fought past overgrown prickly blackberry bushes and prayed she wouldn't run into a racoon out for a nightly prowl. Soon scratches stung her face, neck and hands. She finally stumbled onto a narrow deer path only to sink her right foot into a squishy pile that released a waft of rotting fruit. Bear scat. “Yuck.”

Worries about running into an irritable black bear overtook concerns about crossing a mean-spirited racoon. Despite the increased risk, she shook her foot clean, pulled her hood up, and followed
the call
toward the salty scent of beached kelp.

At first, this compulsion had been an imposition. The long hike, however, had given her time to come around. For years, she'd denied she had this gift to hear a sea dragon's wail. Now, denial gave way to excitement.

All those stories her mother told her, ones about which she'd drawn pictures to cover her bedroom walls, could be true. She now sorely regretted shredding those crayon-coloured masterpieces the day she turned thirteen and a boy laughed at her because she'd shared with him her “secret.”

She could still hear her response to him.
Sea dragons do exist. My family is their guardian. One day I, too, will serve one.

The trail opened onto a cliff and the ocean's roar drew her toward the edge. She looked down. Way down. Only the occasional break of sea stacks and giant white driftwood distinguished shore from sea.

“Of course, the tide would be in.” She absently twirled her ring. “Mama, I sense a watery grave in my future.”

Pulling out her cell phone, she pressed one for Hawaii. Her mother's line was busy. She left her tenth message since leaving work. “Call me!”

She clicked the cell shut and shoved it into her back pocket. The idealistic child she used to be was back with a vengeance. “I hope I make you proud, Mama.”

She cautiously sought secure footfalls to the unseen beach below. Her descent quickly turned into a slip-sliding free-fall. A boulder punched her back. Her left elbow struck a sharp rock and she cried out as her funny bone strummed a painful note. She landed with an icy splash, neck-deep in stinging, salty water.

She coughed and spat out a slimy piece of kelp. Shivering, she scrambled to find her footing when something whipped around her legs, trapping both ankles.

In a panic, Lani kicked out. In seconds, the vine had bound her legs, hips, waist and chest, and then rose up her neck. Heart thundering, Lani took a deep breath before her mouth was covered.

I'm going to die!

Her face was wrapped and she was yanked underwater and out to sea. She was being lassoed toward
makai
in the truest sense.

After a minute, she couldn't hold her breath any longer. She gulped. To her surprise, in came air instead of water. The vine had created an air bubble.

I'm not going to drown
. That certainty was quickly followed by the incredible idea that she was being taken to the one who summoned her. Except that sea dragon introductions normally occurred on a beach, not underwater.

The ride could have lasted an hour or a minute, but abruptly, it ended. Her binding loosened and she bobbed up inside a luminescent cave.

Taking a deep breath, she crawled onto dry ground, scared that the vine would capture her again. Pulse hammering, she paused to take in her surroundings.

No sounds except for the lapping water. The cave roof was so high it appeared to be a black hole. Then something scraped along the floor. Lani yelped and hurried back to the pool's edge. Something big was coming.

Dread mingled with excitement. This was it. She was about to meet a real live, non-crayon drawn, sea dragon!

The creature didn't step closer though.

Controlling her rapid breathing, Lani fought to remember the greeting phrases her mother had drilled into her but the right words eluded her. So she said the only thing that came to mind. “Aloha.”

The creature moved forward then.

Lani gasped and looked up, and up, and up. Unlike the scaly, squat creatures she had crafted on paper, this giant was all smooth skin, long limbs and folded wings. Or were those fins? Like its granite abode, the dragon looked as if it, too, had been worn smooth by water and time. What caught and held Lani's gaze, however, was the lumpy patch on its forehead—directly above the windshield-sized glasses resting on its rounded nose.

I hurt.

Lani's forehead twitched in sympathy. “What happened?”

Someone stole my soul stone. It's your fault. I was perfectly safe among the Hawaiian Islands, but you had to come here where it's colder and people are nosy.

The dragon gave an exasperated
harrumph.
You're supposed to protect me. Yet you've never come to visit. And in case you're interested, my name is Maia.

Lani digested that mouthful of bitter accusations and stunning revelations. She felt like a simpleton, but had to ask. “You wear glasses?”

The long tail swung forward and slammed the floor. The bright stonewalls quivered and a shard broke off to crash beside Lani
. I'm old! Eyesight fades with time. It's a fact.

She sounded so like Lani's boss whenever anyone asked him a lame question that she smiled. Then the third surprising thing about this dragon dawned. “You followed me?”

You're my guard! If I'm in Hawaii and you're only-the-Moon-Goddess-knows-where, how are you supposed to watch over me?

Each answer generated more questions. Lani focused on the most pressing one. “Who hurt you?”

A man crept in at moonrise while I slept and cut it out.

Lani choked on her next question, afraid to insult this short-tempered dragon. But how could anyone attack a big, ferocious dragon—glasses notwithstanding—and get away?

“What do you want me to do?”

Find my stone! Or else.

“Or else what?” She was already doomed...there was no way to return to land. Not without help and Maia didn't seem in a helping mood.

Or else the island you've chosen to live on will be no more.

“What?”