Darkest Love (11 page)

“I don't do long-distance relationships.”

“What a shame. She's from a different culture. Probably just your thing.” Annie gave him an uneasy wink. “No spray tan on her.”

“And no past sexual experience.”

He regretted it as soon as he said it. Annie's face really fell at that.

Harsh
.

Very
harsh, actually. She'd just broached kinky new territory with him.

Rain had a habit of letting thoughts like that slip out at bad moments. “Sorry Ann.” It was awkward, but not his worst call. One time, while Annie was badgering him about his
sexism
, he had dealt a lower blow. “A woman who studies human societies should know men don't go in for sluts”. He'd regretted it as soon as he said it.

“Can you imagine if you slept with Princess Sola?” Annie asked, clearly trying to sound more light-hearted than she felt. “It would cause the scandal of the century.”

“You think?”

Annie didn't seem to pick up that it was a droll remark, drenched in sarcasm. Of course Rain knew that was scandalous. “In the anthropology community? Rain, there would be a witch-hunt,” Annie said. “A warlock hunt. I really think someone would shoot you.”

“You may be right.”

“Uh-huh. Come on. Rain Mistern, sexual predator, takes advantage of a vulnerable island woman? During his
research
trip!”

“And what if Sola came on to me?” Rain grinned. “
Princess
Sola. I would have to follow her decree.”

Annie guffawed. The great
pffffft
sound that issued from her lips was as moist and rattly as Skittles shaking in lemonade. “You are
not
one of her subjects, white man.”

“I am exotic, as far as Miss Sola is concerned. And quite below her,” Rain teased, edging away from Annie's slap on his wrist. “It's she who would be taking advantage of
me.
”

“Grow up.”

“She has dreamed that I will enter her, planting a seed of Kaamo prosperity in her body.”

“Shut up, Mistern.”

Rain kept grinning. “Who am I to resist? To say
no
would be to interfere with Kaamo culture. What if they fall into despair because their princess is not obeyed? What if they kill their newborns?”

Annie gave him that point. “Very tricky ethical territory.”

“I should probably just lie back and enjoy it. It is my duty.”

“It would probably get to the UN. They'd make a good case for banning field studies like this.”

Rain reached for the lantern and blew the candle out. He gave Annie a hug, hoping he'd soothed her and hadn't distressed her before the coming explorations. There was a lot to do on Sivu, and he wanted her crisp, happy and taking notes. And he
definitely
didn't want any personal dramas.

* * * *

“Rain, for God's sake, duck!”

Rain could not duck. He had one foot barely clinging to the granite surface through friction, the other nestling in a tiny crag that accommodated his big toe and not much more. His hands were both occupied, clinging to whatever jutting in the rocks they could find. Annie was already above him, skirt billowing as she stood on the precipice. He could see flashes of knickers when he lifted his head.

Looking up felt so perilous he shot his head back down immediately. A glimpse of that triangle of woman's underpants, while widely sought-after, was not worth a thirty foot plummet to the ground.

“Rain, they are about to throw their spears. For God's sake, hurry. They will skewer you! Pin you to the cliff side.”

Rain could see the source of Annie's worry. A red lyrebird, considered evil by the Kaamo, had landed in a patch of scrub on the side of the granite headlands, probably to check for nectar. Kaamo lore said the bird brought unease to tribal relationships and death to new male infants. A spear through a lyrebird would save the tribe that trouble, and make you a hero for a week.

Evil bird, bringer of trouble. I agree with that,
Rain thought as the first Kaamo spear shot past his head, whizzing so fast it brought high notes like music to its ears. The spear lodged in a scrubby patch in the rock, closer to his head than to the demon bird.

“Hurry! Use the spear to climb up.”

Rain's legs tensed, ready to heed Annie's advice, but he stopped when he glimpsed the spear in his peripheral vision. It was much too far away; Annie clearly could not tell from where she stood, or maybe—after all the thrusting and semi-violent sex he had done with her—she thought he had super-human leaping powers.

“Leap!” Annie had climbed up before him, taking a long, safe route he had scoffed at. He'd waited while she climbed slowly, finding a path of solid surfaces to the top of the cliff. It had taken half an hour, while Rain exchanged words with the Kaamo in the valley below.

He cursed himself now for his foolhardiness. A second spear whizzed by his ear, clattering against the rock and falling with a dusty skid down the granite to the ground below. Rain shivered, sensing the height of the fall through the last tiny rattle that reached his ears. The fate of that spear could easily be his.

Rain's hands were moistening so quickly they were starting to slip. He grabbed for a better hand-hold. His heart hammered as he felt how his hand slipped, barely settling at the end of the slick rock, grabbing the very end. His fingers had almost slid right off.

Time to make a move.
Spears were zipping faster, and beads of sweat from his hairline were starting to pour, drizzling down into his eyes so they stung with salty tears. He tried to blink, but a new stream of saltwater dripped into his eyes, cruel in its quickness and insistence. Rain's thighs quivered and burned in agony.

I can't see.

“Jump!”

Annie's cry activated some primal part in his brain, and Rain did. Before he could reconsider the distance, angle or anything else about the spear, his thighs just tensed and he leapt for it.

“Aargh!” Annie screamed above him. Rain was flying, sweaty hands and body cooling rapidly in the air and toes rejoicing at finally being freed from their death-lock in the tiny hold. It was just for a second. His arms and legs tensed again, flailing across the granite, while his eyes searched the surface.

The spear. The spear.

He needed to grab it. When it didn't appear Rain assumed he'd leaped too low, undershooting the promising handhold in the side of the cliff.

He was skidding. His heart hammered, his hands and feet scampered. His face was covered with dust and blood. Rain slid down the rocks, trying to grab for something, anything. A spike. A shrub. He could barely see, and only dangerous crumbling segments of rock showed up through the salt in his eyes. He panicked, grabbing faster, but every handhold either crumbled away or assaulted his fingers with a bloody gash or rejected them smoothly, letting them slide sweatily instead of offering a grip.

Clang.
Like magic the spear appeared. It clanged against Rain's leg as he was skidding, its hold firm enough to disrupt his skid and send him on a different trajectory. He was able to grab it in his fist, hand less sweaty now after the blasting with blood, dust and wind.

His grip held. Rain spun around, knees battering against the cliff side. A spiky ledge scratched his shins painfully as he came to a sudden stop. He was not sure if this was a new Kaamo spear or the first one—
had I overshot or undershot?
—he didn't care. He was saved.

“Rain. Rain! Grab the next ledge and fucking get yourself up!'

Annie was screaming. Steadying himself, Rain saw what she had seen, a convenient smattering of ledges to his left, leading up to the apex. Adrenalized and emboldened by this twist, Rain went for the path. His sneakers scuffed, carrying him up the cliff, from foothold to foothold. The spear was the first great hold on his way up. He twisted, craned, leapt and glided over the rock, not giving himself a chance to second-guess, guided by instinct and a new heartening burst of hope and confidence. By the time he reached the top he felt like he was flying, defying gravity, walking over steep parts with quick scuffs of his feet and hands, easily as if it had been horizontal.

“Rain!” Annie covered him with fussing hands, first on his forehead, then his chest and thighs and wrists as he collapsed. She felt for his pulse and gasped at the amount of blood on his shirt.

“Just scrapes,” he huffed. “Hundreds of them.”

Annie's eyes were glowing with fear. She wrapped him in a bear hug.

“Take the easy route, you fool!” she cried, truly distressed. Rain had never heard that shrill note in her voice before.

Another shrill sound issued from below, from under the perilous cliff, as if someone was mocking her. Annie looked up.

“The bird.” Kaamo cheers were rising up. The warriors had speared the wretched creature and it had fallen down those thirty feet, probably as bloody and shocked as Rain, meeting the fate he had barely avoided.

* * * *

“What is this ritual?” Rain asked. He and Annie were standing at the top of the headlands, staring at the gathered Kaamo in the valley below. He had just his eyes–Annie was using the binoculars she had somehow managed to keep around her neck for the duration of the climb.

“It's a bonding ritual, I believe. It's called Tiltu. Sola should arrive to oversee the opening soon.”

“The princess?” Rain hissed, too excitedly.

Annie nodded. “She has approved our presence, so we should be ok. Just don't get yourself killed for any other reason. The tribesmen are unhappy we are watching, and only barely contained their anger. They accept us because it is the princess' decree. But if they can find any sanctioned reason to kill you, they will.”

“Like misfiring a spear at a demon bird?”

“Or a quick push off the granite. Watch your back. And for God's sake, try to keep a low profile.” Annie averted her eyes back to the binoculars.

“She's arriving.” Far below, approaching the cluster of Kaamo tribesmen and women smeared in red for the Tiltu ceremony, Sola's party was approaching. She travelled on her throne, mounted on four bamboo sticks jutting outwards, allowing her to be transported. Four warriors held a rod each—
former spears
, Sola had told Annie—each once used to kill a demon animal. Sola sat in her seat smiling dreamily, her head raised happily to the sky. The bodies of the Kaamo warriors glistened with sweat and red ochre as they angled her this way and that. Finally they set the throne down on a hill where she would have a good vantage point.

“Holy Christ. They've decked it out.” Marsupial skins and bird skulls covered Sola's throne, fastened to the bamboo with vines and ties of various kinds. The throne was painted with blood and a shiny gold substance, probably mineral-rich mud or wild honey or a mixture of both. The warriors set Sola down and took turns touching their noses to her pretty feet, offering their respects. The head of a wild boar had been fastened under her throne and it peered out from between her legs, like a frightened child between its mother's knees. Annie smirked–the kneeling Kaamo would get a shock if they opened their eyes while they paid their respects.

“Take a look. They're about to start.”

The Kaamo men were starting their dance: a series of squats followed by a mighty leap into the air. They turned themselves into spears at the very end, raising their arms and hurtling towards the sun in lines of glistening muscle. When they did it all in unison it was magic. The force those thighs could muster was amazing. Annie's stomach clenched as she thought of the most powerful set of Western thighs she knew: Rain's.

He was shirtless now, peering through her binoculars, his shirt peeled off and wrapped around one deep-ish wound Annie had found near his armpit. His sweaty six-pack was shown in its full glory–every time he breathed it changed shape.
In. Out. In. Out.
Those abs would have a tan on them in no time.

“The ladies are loving it,” Rain commented, noting the women clustered around the edge of the male performers, watching the squats and propulsions, poking each other in the ribs and jeering at the men to jump higher, squat lower.

Annie nodded. “Soon they'll begin the orgy.”

Rain's eyes grew to about double their usual size. He shot the binoculars down. “The orgy?”

“The ritual orgy, yes. Tiltu ends with coupling between the Kaamo pairs. The monogamous ones. So it's not really an orgy, I guess–there's no partner-swapping. But it's done in public.”

“Wow.”

“Sola will leave before that. She is the keeper of the tribe's innocence.”

Rain peered back through the eyeholes. The Kaamo men were still at it, leaping higher and harder. They had formed a circle, all squatting and shooting up in unison, so it looked like an army of human spears had been fired at once at an intruder in the sky.

“Sola is a virgin?”

“The virgin princess. She is not permitted the indulgences of the rest of the Kaamo.”

“They're very robust.” Rain said.

“The way they live,” Annie agreed, shaking her head in awe. “So much joy, so much anger, so much grief. Everything is magnified, the good emotions and the bad.”

“Not all tribes in the South Pacific have this character,” Rain commented.

“Not at all,” Annie agreed. Journals from the time of Margaret Mead described a variety of cultures—some quiet and artistic, others more aggressive and physical. But none matched the vigor Annie saw in the Kaamo. Or if there
had
been a tribe like that, the diarists certainly hadn't captured it.

“Tonight I'll write a narrative description of Tiltu, using as much detail as possible, beginning with Sola's throne-boar.” Annie smiled. “And I'll include your brush with death.”

“Make sure you emphasize my heroism.”

“You saved no one!”

“I was trying to save you some time, baby. Ended up having to save my ass.”