Sister of the Sun (19 page)

When the first
vaka
came close, she did not even blink. From the bow, Cone-shell gazed at her, his smug expression rapidly fading. Her calm exterior, she thought, was already unnerving him. If he had come to find her crazed by fright, he was surely disappointed.
 

She said nothing as he strode ashore. Behind him, the second canoe come in; with a quick glance she surveyed the men aboard.
Priests
! Suddenly she felt her courage faltering. She had expected Cone-shell to appear, intending to bully her into some concessions. But what did he need with priests? Was there some bizarre ceremony he wished performed on the ancient
marae
?
 

"Life to you," said Cone-shell as he stepped briskly from the canoe and strode up the beach.

Tepua stared at him and did not respond.

"I regret that the
kava
was so strong," he continued. "I have warned the girls to be more careful next time."
 

Still she refused to speak.

"I am glad we found you safe."

Glad
? As if he had not ordered her put here. Was he trying to make her believe that spirits had carried her away? She tried to hold still as the priests came up behind him.
 

The only one she knew was Raha, Cone-shell's brother, high priest for Varoa Clan. Raha was uncommonly thin, a head shorter than his brother. His bulbous knees made a strange contrast to his slender legs. In his hand he carried the feather-tipped staff of his office.
 

"We have serious matters to discuss," said Raha, coming to a halt beside his brother. "I am concerned, Tepua-mua, that you are not qualified for the high office you have taken. Faka-ora has chosen to ignore the obvious difficulty, but I cannot." He stepped closer, raising his staff high as he spoke. "I know all that has happened. You left these islands as a maiden, and never reached your destination. The marriage planned for you did not take place. Your obligation to remain chaste never ended."
 

Tepua glared at him. Behind her, against the log, she had propped a sharp stick of ironwood. It was a crude spear, but one that might cut deeply. Perhaps she could defend herself, if only for a short time.
 

"If you have been defiled," continued Raha, "then the gods will not tolerate your presence among us. We will be forced to get rid of your evil. You and everything you have touched must be destroyed."
 

"The great crimson cloth was wound around my loins," she answered indignantly. "The
maro kura
is the pride of all our people, worn by a long line of chiefs. Will you destroy
that
?" She felt blood rush to her face as she waited for an answer. Too many times she had heard men claim that some sacred object would be ruined by a woman's touch. They made exceptions for female chiefs, but always seemed eager to put those exceptions aside.
 

"If the question arises, I will pray to the ancestors," he replied firmly. "They will give me guidance."

"And if
you
touch me, will you have to destroy your own flesh?" She thrust her hand toward him.
 

Raha stepped back hastily, his lips curling with distaste. Was he really afraid, she wondered, or putting on an act for his companions? The high priest called another man, older, but heavily built, whose tattoos marked him as a
tahunga
. "You will be examined," Raha told her, "by one who can do so and not be harmed. He will tell us what is to be your fate."
 

Examined
? Tepua felt an instinct to draw her skirt more tightly around her, but forced her hands to remain still. She glanced from one grim face to the other. Behind the priests she saw the paddlers and the warriors who had also come in the canoes. She began to tremble, and hoped that no one would notice. "Where is Umia?" she shouted so that everyone could hear. "If you challenge my claim to the chiefhood in his name, why is he not with you?"
 

"He ate too much at yesterday's feast," Cone-shell said, trying to make light of it as he patted his belly. "He needs to rest."

"Then come back with him tomorrow. He must be part of this. I want to hear the challenge from his own lips."

"I told you, Tepua-mua, that I speak for Umia," Cone-shell answered impatiently.

"Do you also
act
for him? Will you wield the sacred power in his place until he is ready to rule?"
 

Cone-shell gave no reply, but signaled the
tahunga
to advance. Tepua drew in her breath and fixed the man with a stare. "Cone-shell's silence is answer enough," she said harshly. "He plans to seize what can only be conferred by the gods." The
tahunga
seemed taken aback by her accusation, and for the moment he held his place.
 

"I am not the only one who must be tested," she continued loudly, wanting everyone to hear. "You, Cone-shell, must prove yourself worthy of assuming this power you crave."
 

"I need no test," said Varoa's chief.

Tepua looked away from him and addressed the others. The loyalty of Cone-shell's priests and warriors, she thought, would not easily be shaken. But the canoe paddlers might listen.... "Will you follow this man without a sign?" she asked. "A fisherman wants to know everything about the steersman of his boat. Are you ready to trust Cone-shell to steer our clans?"
 

Several paddlers frowned. One warrior wiped sweat from his brow. Whatever happened here, Tepua thought, these men would remember her biting words. "Are you sure that Cone-shell carries no sin?" she asked them. "What of his wives? Have they been questioned?''
 

"I can vouch for my family," declared Raha. "I have no such assurance in your case."

The worried looks eased. "Enough talk," said Cone-shell. "We will settle this now. Agree to our examination, Tepua, or give up your office."
 

Cone-shell's man stepped forward; Tepua reached behind her for the ironwood branch. She swung it around; the
tahunga
halted before its jagged point. "My own sins have been cleansed," she insisted, her voice beginning to crack. "Test me if you doubt, but let it be against Cone-shell."
 

She had a way to prove her worthiness—or learn, at the cost of her life, that she was wrong. For an instant she looked toward the end of the islet at the dark water running in from the sea. Everyone knew that the outer reef was broken there by a narrow channel. Boats never risked this pass, but sharks swam through freely.
 

"Is it possible that Cone-shell has no trust in his gods?" she taunted. "If he holds divine favor, let him take up my challenge. We will go to the sharks and ask which of us should rule."
 

A warrior muttered to his companion. Priests exchanged whispers. "There is no doubt clinging to me," answered Cone-shell. He signaled his men to advance on Tepua, but they seemed rooted in place.
 

"Then refuse my offer," she went on, hoping that no one would notice her trembling. "Do what you wish to me. Then try to make your way home, and see how the wind and waves deal with your canoes. In the end the sharks will prove me right."
 

She saw a few paddlers in the rear ranks arguing among themselves. Several others had apparently made their decision and were slowly moving toward their canoes. Suddenly there was a flurry of action. Three men dragged a boat into the water. Others hurried after them, some trying to hinder the launching, the rest joining it. Fighting broke out between those who wanted to abandon Varoa's chief and those who wished to stay.
 

Cone-shell sent warriors splashing after the
vaka
, but they were too slow to catch up. The men stood thigh-deep in water, shouting and waving their spears at the departing craft.
 

"My canoe!" screeched Raha, seeing that his
vaka
also had been launched by paddlers.
 

Tepua felt jubilant as she watched Cone-shell's dismay. "We are marooned together now," she called to him. "We can spend a pleasant night here. I will show you how to keep the ghosts away."
 

Some of Cone-shell's men flung themselves into the water and tried to catch the departing boats, but the paddlers only stroked faster. The men ashore cast worried looks toward the inland forest. Priests began chanting.
 

"Wait!" shouted Cone-shell to the men who were deserting him. "You misunderstood. I need no test, but I am not afraid to prove myself. Bring the canoes back and I will show you. I will swim the sharks' channel."
 

 

The paddlers returned and nervously faced their chief. Cone-shell gazed at them with seeming indifference, waiting for the priests to agree how this test was to be carried out. First they insisted that Tepua sit in the stern, on a piece of matting, so that she would not touch the boat. Then the paddlers took the canoe into the fast-moving current beyond the islet. Trying to control her fears, she stared down into the clear water, dreading what she might see.
 

As they crossed the depths Tepua glimpsed a gray shape prowling below. Farther out she saw another shark surface, and the sight of black edging on its tail fin made her freeze. She had hoped to find blue sharks, for the great blues protected high chief's of the islands.
 

These were not blues. The black-edged tail told her that they were gray reef sharks, small but swift killers that attacked
ariki
and commoner alike.
 

Cone-shell, seated in the bow, showed no fear. Was this a bluff, she wondered, an attempt to regain the confidence of his men? Or was he convinced that his gods would protect him? Tepua did not feel the same confidence. Although she had been ritually purified in Tahiti, she might have transgressed afterward in some way she did not know. If punishment came now, it would be swift.
 

As Cone-shell's canoe went on across the channel the priests'
vaka
remained behind. She and Cone-shell were to swim from their canoe back to the other. The gap between the boats kept widening, but the paddlers continued their strokes.
 

"I am ready," said Cone-shell at last, and raised a hand to signal the priests'
vaka.
Ahead lay a broad expanse of choppy dark blue water. Tepua wished she could make herself forget what lay below.
 

The other
vaka
looked tiny against the sky as the lagoonward current made it drift away from the
motu
. A sea wind began to blow stiffly, bringing a briny scent. Tepua's
vaka
rocked as Cone-shell stood up in the bow and tossed aside his cape. Hastily she offered a prayer to her guardian spirit. When Cone-shell dove, she forced herself to follow.
 

The chill of inrushing ocean water shocked her into a new awareness of her danger, but she did not pause to look about for sharks. Reaching ahead, she pulled herself forward, trying to swim quickly yet smoothly. So long as she avoided making sounds like a struggling fish, the sharks might keep away.
 

But she could not ignore the stinging from the cuts and scrapes she had suffered on the
motu
. This morning she had washed herself in the sea, cleaning off streaks of dried blood, but taking care not to disturb the fresh scabs. Even so, some seepage from the wounds might give her away. Cone-shell, so far as she knew, had no such handicap.
 

The current from the sea was even stronger than she had expected, pushing her so hard that she would miss her target. In order to meet the swimmers, the men on the
vaka
began paddling again. Tepua glanced over her shoulder and saw that Cone-shell had fallen behind. He was swimming slowly, just fast enough to stay afloat.
 

And for good reason. Just ahead, Tepua saw the upper lobe of a reef shark's tail break the surface. A splash made her look sharply behind as a swift gray form cut between her and Varoa's chief. Cone-shell might be able to back off. For her it was too late.
Tapahi-roro-ariki
, she called silently as she slowed, trying to control her rising panic.
 

She tried to keep her movements slow and even, doing nothing to draw attention, but the reef grays were already aroused. Despite her stinging eyes, she watched the sharks underwater. The nearest one lowered its black-tipped front fins and swam slowly with a stiff body motion. The gold eyes with their vertical-slit pupils seemed to fix on her.
 

Changing course to avoid the shark, she found two others coming on. Tepua submerged, knowing that she would be safer deep underwater. As she kicked her way down she caught a blurred view of gray forms zigzagging back and forth above. She tried to put some distance between herself and the sharks, but a need for air forced her to surface. She could not dive again; she was still gasping, and her terror made her breathing worse.
 

She choked back her cries and kept swimming, trying for an even, gentle motion, though her limbs quivered in fright. The briny taste seeping into her mouth took on a bitter tang. The burn on her tongue went to the back of her throat. Again she sent a silent plea to the spirit of her ancestress.
 

Ahead Tepua saw open water and no sign of the second canoe. Far to the side lay the
motu
where she had spent the night. How long ago that seemed now!
 

She swam on, with no clear sense of direction. The tangled greenery of the
motu
grew closer, though her course was taking her far past the islet. And the sharks would not leave her alone. They were constantly about her, sometimes deep, sometimes right at the surface. She heard shouts from behind, possibly Cone-shell's voice, but did not look back.
 

In the sound of the blood thrumming and keening in her ears, Tepua thought she heard someone speaking—a woman's voice, indistinct, but growing closer and clearer. It echoed the words that Tepua herself had shouted long ago: