For the second time, Kamolea watched through the tangled sticks of the cage as the elders rushed one after another into the Hive. Soon the white smoke started rising through the outlet on the top of the thatched roof.

They have to choose a new chieftain, Kamolea thought. I hope it’s Father, although it’s clear that even he couldn’t let me off the hook. I can’t believe I said all that nonsense. That damn old man, he bewitched me… I even don’t remember what I said exactly, but I didn’t mean it, that’s for sure. And now, everybody will think of me as a craven traitor, and I’ll end up torn apart like a fish on the altar in honor of Almighty Kepolo, despised by everyone.

The tears welled up in his eyes.

             In the Hive, all the elders were on their feet, shouting and speaking simultaneously. Hamaki, as the eldest one, attempted to outshout the din to assume control of the situation.

“Listen up, everybody! Pay attention. Let’s sit down and hear each other out.” He waited as the last conversations died away, and continued. “We have to choose the next chieftain and to decide Kamolea’s fate. After the death of Momo and the thunderbolt that stopped Akamui, I’m not sure there will be many volunteers to kill him. I suppose that you made the connection between today’s events and the troubles of Kedia’s time. Unfortunately, Kerully, the only witness of that turbulent period, is no longer among us, may his spirit dwell forever at Rakapi’s crown. Now we are on our own in this hard situation and we need all our cunning to resolve it. First, let’s vote for a new chieftain! Silence, over there! Do I have your attention, please?! Ahaki, bring nahiwa koho, please.”

Ahaki went to the sacred corner and brought twelve wood slabs with a drawn totem of each elder and a bunch of wood chips with a carved image of the totems.

“Thank you, wise Ahaki,” said Hamaki. “I won’t compete, though; I’m getting too old for this. Does anyone else wish to abstain?”

“I’m out too. I won’t deal with all the weird things that are going around,” grunted Tanuli.

“Will all others stay on course?”

Everybody nodded. After distributing the chips, letting out those of the abstained members, Hamaki said, “All right, let’s vote. Don’t forget that you may not propose yourself.”

After each of the elders threw a chip into a large bowl, Hamaki counted them twice and cried out, “Toad’s shit, I can’t believe it. We have a tie of four! It’s never been seen before. Three voices for Keko, three for Ahaki, three for Kelani, and three for Akamui!”

The news provoked an agitated murmur.

“I don’t know who the morons are that voted for Akamui,” growled Tanuli. “As the father of the young Kamolea, he must not be allowed to compete for chieftain because it creates a conflict of interest. At the time he did not pay the full price for killing my daughter; he helped his son get away with Laggi’s death; and if you elect him now, he will do the same thing again.”

“Wrong!” Akamui jumped to his feet and raised his hand. “Listen to me, everybody! Chieftain or not, tonight I will sacrifice my son Kamolea to Almighty Kepolo. He insulted our God and disgraced me in front of the entire tribe. Such a traitor and coward does not deserve to live among us. He put stigma not only on me, but also on the name of Tipihao. I swear to the Great Kepolo that tonight will be his last day!”

“The tie is a tie and we have to break it,” said Hamaki firmly. “There is no way to veto Akamui’s participation, it’s his right and his privilege as a member of the Council. Does anyone wish to change their vote to break the tie?”

Nobody moved, all of them staring stubbornly ahead.

“In this case, we have no choice but to use the foreshadowing fire and to ask Kepolo to decide, as our ancestors did in times of emergency.”

The four contestants stood abreast before the hearth, at three strides’ distance from one another, as follows: Keko, Kelani, Akamui, and Ahaki. The others sat cross-legged around the fire. Hamaki took the long pipe and the spear with the skull from the corner, then circled the hearth as the ritual required and passed the pipe to everyone but the nominees, who waited patiently.

Once that was done, Hamaki cried, “Oh, Almighty Kepolo, Greatest of the Greatest Gods, show us who should be the next Tipihao chieftain. Let the foreshadowing fire lay its smoke on the men you’ll reject and leave untouched the one you chose.” He threw a handful of grains and powdered bark from the Sacred Tree into the fire.

The flames flared and flickered, producing thick black smoke. It started crawling left, reaching for Keko and Kelani. It wrapped them in a dense veil, so intense that they started coughing. While everybody expected that the smoke would touch Akamui next, an invisible draft bent the flames to the right. A fleecy puff crept toward Ahaki, touched him lightly, and dissolved in the air to astounded exclamations from all present. Whilst the elders waited to see what would happen next, the flames swung again, and the smoke went straight into the face of Tanuli, who shut his eyes and began coughing.

“Thank you for your unequivocal signs, Great Kepolo,” Hamaki cried out. “Your choice is clear to us, as you showed us who should be eliminated and who has displeased you by speaking against your favorite. We humbly accept your desire, Almighty! We greet Akamui, the Tipihao’s new chieftain, with joyful hearts.”

The elders got up and started congratulating Akamui for his new position, but he raised his hand and cried, “Thank you for your support, wise elders, but the sunset approaches, and we don’t have time for celebration. Let’s summon the tribe, because I want to sacrifice the little traitor to the Great Kepolo as soon as possible.”

 

***

Kamolea lay prone on the cage’s floor and watched the Hive’s entrance. Some time after the smoke stopped winding through the thatched outlet, his father emerged surrounded by other elders. The chieftain’s necklace of bones dangled around Akamui’s neck and he clutched the spear with the skull. He motioned to the stone altar, and Kamolea’s heart sank.

            Here we go, he thought. At least they elected him, despite everything I’ve done.

The elders disappeared into the jungle on their way to the village. The guards switched shifts below and soon only two of them remained in the clearing. A gloom fell over the place, and fat drops of rain started drumming against the roof of the cage. Kamolea heard men’s voices. He put his ear on the crack of the floor and focused on the muffled sounds below.

“Here, it’s a perfect shelter from the rain,”  said a thin teenage voice. “So, you said they chose Akamui?”

            “Yes, yes, Akamui is the new chieftain,” responded an excited voice with a bass timbre. “But you know what? There’s a rumor that his son’s behavior is similar to Kedia’s, and if that’s true, things are getting really interesting!”

            “Who is Kedia?”

            “You don’t know who Kedia is? Man, are you living under a rock?”

            “I’ve never heard that name, mate.”

            “Seriously? No wonder, though, you’re still young, and the elders try to keep the entire story a secret. Even so, everybody knows about Kedia. In her youth, she started foretelling incredible things. Her moment of glory came when, just before one crucial battle, she had foreseen that the chieftain would perish and the Tipihaos would lose, unless they obeyed a simple warrior named Zilony.”

            “The legendary Zilony? So, she guessed right, I assume?” the youngster cried excitedly.

            “She did,” confirmed the other. “Everything happened exactly the way she predicted. The chieftain was killed, Zilony took over, the Tipihaos won the battle, and Kedia became a national hero. She was the first woman to become an official priestess of Kepolo and nothing was undertaken without her approval. She not only had the gift of being able to foresee the future; she was also a great healer; she could connect with the spirits of the dead and could find lost objects and children. I’m telling you, mate, people went crazy about her; they adored her. Everybody came to her for advice and the entire tribe worshipped her, even more than Kepolo.”

            “What an incredible story!” exclaimed the boyish voice.

            “Hold on, the incredible bit’s coming right up!” the bass replied. “In a blaze of her glory, something weird occurred—Kedia began saying things that contradicted Kepolo’s teaching.”

“Really? How so?”

“I don’t know, man. One day, she simply lost her mind and started screaming that Kepolo was a fake god and Rakapi was a simple tree that we shouldn’t worship. She said that God is a spirit and we must accept him; otherwise, we’ll all perish in agony.”

            “But this is unbelievable,” exclaimed the young guard. “Kamolea said almost the same things about Rakapi!”

            “See the connection? Wait till you hear the rest! The elders didn’t know what to do. They were afraid of killing her because the people would tear them to pieces. Besides, her foretelling gift came in handy when they had to make crucial decisions. So, they got together and decided to lock her up in a cave somewhere high in the hills, in a secret place known only by the chosen. They’ve kept her there ever since, but I heard the Council regularly turn to her for important decisions. Rumor has it that just before our last grand victory, when we surprised the alliance on Rocky Island, they went and asked her if they would win, even though Kepolo’s signs were unambiguous on that matter. She also confirmed the victory but with a warning that everybody secretly repeats now:

 

 

“You’ll win the battle but after then,

For all the men of our island,

Starts the beginning of the end

And the final act of this tribe violent.”

 

“Weird,” said the young one. “Who speaks like that? It’s not a normal way to convey a story…”

“There’s nothing normal when it comes to Kedia,” said the bass voice gravely. “They said she spoke in verse from the moment they locked her in the cave. I knew one of her guards and he swore to me that her voice changed to a man’s when she began to prophesy. It’s very strange, I’m telling you…”

            “Hey, you two, why are you hiding under the tree, losers?” yelled a rough voice from a distance. “Hakui, up to the cage and get the prisoner ready for the ceremony. And you, dotard, keep your eyes peeled; the boy is very dangerous!”

            Kamolea smelled smoke and resin in the air and looked outside. Under the veil of a slight drizzle, hundreds of men were coming from the jungle and spilling into the clearing. Everybody carried an unlit torch in hand. Next to the stone altar, a blazing fire raised bright, lively tongues higher and higher.

The cage shook and swayed. The rectangular trapdoor moved aside and a man’s head popped up. He was in his twenties, his face entirely tattooed. Kamolea had seen him speak with his father several times, who had said once that the young Hakui was a bright one and would go far.

            “Cut the crap and behave yourself, all right?” he warned Kamolea. “Your father is the new chieftain, so don’t disgrace him more than you already did. We’re going down now; watch your step.”

He gave Kamolea a shove, who then squeezed through the opening and deftly swung on the rope ladder, swiftly climbing down. An old warrior waited for him below, and a minute later, Hakui came down too. The two guards took Kamolea by his arms and dragged him toward the throng. The rain lashed Kamolea’s face, the wind roared in his ears, and his heart was banging in his chest. He heard Akamui’s voice from a distance. All of a sudden, the entire place became as bright as daylight as everyone raised a burning torch.

“Make way!” bellowed Hakui. The crowd split and the guards passed through, hauling Kamolea. A flash tore the sky, illuminating the rectangular flint plate covered with grooves. The overhung branches of the Sacred Tree waved ominously, studded with skulls and bones. Akamui stood before the altar, holding the long ritual knife in his right hand and the spear with the impaled skull in the other.

“… We are calling for justice and vengeance for Chief Momo,” he shouted furiously. “His death occurred because of my son, who deserves the most severe punishment. Many years ago, I had a vision that he would be sacrificed for the greater glory of Almighty Kepolo. This day has now come. I will show you tonight that even though Kamolea is my blood, he will be treated as an ordinary traitor. He insulted our god and his skull will decorate Rakapi as a warning to anyone who dares to do it again. There he is, coming! Bring the traitor and bind him over here!”

            As the two guards dragged Kamolea toward the flint slate, a flash ripped the sky and a thunderbolt hit the altar. Blinding sparks flew as the slate split in two and fell off its stone base with a crash.   

            A flying piece of rock hit Hakui in the skull. He slumped down with a cry and remained unconscious, releasing Kamolea’s arm. The old guard jumped away, terrified, as a big fireball formed in the air and hit him in the chest. He collapsed lifeless next to Hakui. The crowd fell silent, flabbergasted. Nobody dared to touch Kamolea, who stepped up free and faced Akamui.

            “Kill me,” he shouted. “You are right, I disgrace you and my people, and I deserve to die. Let Kepolo’s will be done! Go ahead! Thrust the spear into my heart and it’ll be over!”

            All eyes turned to Akamui, who stood as still as a graven image. A flash rent the sky and lit his stony face, his lips tightly pressed together, rain streaming down his cheeks. He slowly raised the spear, but then lowered it and shouted:

             “The boy is cursed, so we must not kill him on the island. If we do that, his enchanted spirit may bring a colossal disaster to our land. We need to ask Almighty Kepolo for further clarification on how to proceed. Tonight, I postpone the sacrifice. Tomorrow, I’ll summon the Council again and announce our ultimate decision to you. Go to your places now! My talk is over!”

            The crowd broke up with a low grumble, and it took a long time for the clearing to become deserted, save for the elders and Kamolea’s guards.

They all stood in the pouring rain around the broken altar, soaked to the skin.

            “Why aren’t we going to the Hive?” asked Hamaki, irritated.

            “We don’t need to,” Akamui responded. “I know what Kepolo’s will is. We have to take him to Kedia.”

            “What?” exclaimed Keko. “How did you decide that? We need to vote!”

            “I saw it,” said Akamui darkly. “As soon as I kill him there will be an earthquake and our island will disappear under the water. The vision was terrible. Everybody screamed with horror as gigantic waves swept over every living creature on the island. Then I heard a voice, telling me that I must bring Kamolea to Kedia and obey her prophesy, otherwise total destruction awaits us. Enough talking now! This time we’ll skip the vote. I want only Ahaki with me, as a witness, and two guards to keep Kamolea secure. Tomorrow I’ll tell you what Kedia wills. We’ll leave for the Steamy Cave right now.”

            The elders looked stunned. Paying no more attention to them, Akamui pointed at two men standing nearby.

            “You two, take the prisoner and come with me! From now on, you answer with your lives if he escapes. Are you ready, Ahaki? Do you know the place well? It won’t be easy to find the way in this pouring rain.”

            “Don’t worry, Master Akamui, we’ll get by. Let’s go!”

            Akamui turned to leave, but Hamaki said, “One more thing, Chieftain Akamui.”

            Akamui turned around. “What is it?”

Hamaki pulled him out of Ahaki’s earshot. The elders stood in a circle, almost touching their foreheads.

            “There must be no witnesses to your meeting with Kedia,” Hauni whispered. “The last time there was a leak and we cannot afford other rumors about her to creep around the village. I heard that some people reject our god because of her. I have even overheard the words ‘resistance’ and ‘prophecy’ several times. We have to be extremely cautious, for this boy could provoke a riot. So, nobody besides you and Ahaki should know about this visit, understand?”

            “I question even Ahaki’s pertinence here,” said Aleki cautiously. “He’s also acting weirdly sometimes…”

            “Ahaki is all right,” said Akamui firmly. “As long as I am a chieftain, nobody will touch him. However, sometimes he is oversensitive, so for now it’s better not to show awareness of the situation. As for the guards, I have to admit you have a point here. Fewer witnesses, the better. Let’s get it over with!”

            “May Kepolo keep you safe, Chieftain Akamui,” said Hamaki, bowing.

 

***

The rain poured over the small group of men who advanced slowly, hewing the dense, soaked greenery. The flame of the torches flickered, blew by the strong wind in the otherwise pitch-black night. The Steamy Cave was at the top of Carapace Hill. There was no path or trail to this hidden place; they climbed with great effort, regularly tripping over shrubs, snags, and stones, as branches and thorny twigs whipped their naked bodies and scratched their faces.

Ahaki was in the lead, followed by Kamolea’s guards, and the latter between them. His hands were tied in front of him and the rope was twisted around his waist and the wrist of each one of his keepers. Akamui brought up the rear.

After an eternity, Ahaki halted and raised his hand. A bolt of lightning lit up an area of stony ground, the other side of which rose to a high, almost vertical cliff, covered with bushes and small trees. The flashing lightning lit up dense globular clusters of mist. As the men cautiously approached, they discerned the small entrance of the cave, hidden by shrubs and creepers.

“Who’s there?” shouted somebody from inside.

“I’m the new chieftain, Akamui. We came to see Kedia on an urgent matter,” Akamui shouted back.

“Say the password,” came out the voice.

“Password? What password,” muttered Akamui and looked at Ahaki.

“Oh, it’s ‘hot spring’,” said Ahaki quickly.

“Hot spring,” cried Akamui.

            Two sturdy, tough-looking men, armed to the teeth, emerged from the dark cave’s mouth. Kedia’s wardens were usually punished warriors who, after serving their time, swore an oath never to reveal what they had witnessed under the threat of decapitation.

            “Greetings to you, Chieftain Akamui,” said one of them with a bow. “We knew nothing about the change. What happened to Chief Momo?”

            “Momo is dead. We want to speak to Kedia,” Akamui said brusquely. “What is this mist, all around? It stinks as though something farted after three days of constipation…”

            “It comes from the brook,” said the other guard. “There’s a spring with hot water that flows just under the cavern, and the steam rises from there. I agree the smell is terrible, though. No wonder that the crazy witch is getting worse with every passing day.”

            He had hardly finished these words when a horrid wail, something between a scream and howl, came from the cave. Akamui’s blood froze in his veins. For the first time in his life, he looked terrified.

            “Come in, don’t stay out in the rain,” said the first guard with a faint smile, motioning toward the entrance. The others followed him in silence. Akamui caught himself trembling.

            Come on, it’s only an old woman, he thought and turned to Kamolea’s guards

            “Both of you stay here at the entrance, keep watch, and don’t let anyone in. From now on Kamolea will be my responsibility.” He took the rope from them.

“With your permission, Chieftain, I’ll stay with them too. You don’t need me over there,” said the man who had explained about the steam. “Talluti is as strong as two men, he’ll get you there.”

“Fair enough,” Akamui grunted. “Let’s see this crazy hag. Lead us, warden!”

With raised torches, Ahaki and Akamui followed Talluti. Kamolea slouched between the chieftain and the elder, trying to wake up from the surrealistic nightmare that was going on. Wrapped by the dense vapor, he waddled in puddles of warm water, feeling like a blind man, as despite the flickering flames of the torches he saw almost nothing but steam. The moisture penetrated his body, and the smell of sulfur pierced his brain. The constant dripping of water was driving him crazy. He was focusing on the hypnotic drip-drip-drip sound, mixed with the splashing noise of their steps, when he hit his head against a stalactite descending from the low ceiling.

“Nice place to live.” Akamui’s voice echoed hollowly in the darkness.

A sharp scream resounded in the compact space: “Cooommiiiiiiing.”

 Kamolea started shaking from head to toe.

This can’t be real, he thought. It would have been a hundred times better if they’d killed me tonight.

They stopped in front of a bamboo wall, which blocked the way. Talluti pulled a heavy latch and took out two rods from the middle. They squeezed one after another through the narrow opening and advanced with raised torches toward the middle of a vast room. The flames cast dancing shadows on the cave’s walls. The steam was less intense there, allowing a clearer view.  From the ceiling, sharp stalactites hung ominously like crooked fingers. In the center ascended a big egg-shaped stone with a flat upper surface, formed by stalagmites; to its right, a small spring bubbled. Clay cups and small animal and fish bones were scattered around.

Something stirred just behind the stone, and they all jumped back as the most terrifying creature they had ever seen dashed out with a piercing scream.

The short, animal-like figure of an old woman dashed towards them, then leaped immediately out of the reach of the guard, who had swung his spear at her. She was naked, covered only by her long white hair that trailed on the ground, and so skinny that her bones jutted out and threatened to pierce her skin from the inside. Her ugly, wizened face was as old as the hills but at the same time very expressive.

It’s all in her eyes, Kamolea thought, staring at her big brown eyes, which shone with incredible intelligence. Her face was lit by an inner light and looked alive and spiritual.

Kedia crawled back, took a sip from the spring, and fixed her eyes on Kamolea. She crept toward him, humming under her breath and often touching the moist stone floor with her forehead to express her submission. As she got closer, she stretched a bony hand and crooked fingers, with long, curved nails, wrapped around Kamolea’s ankle. Writhing like a worm, she lifted his foot, put her head underneath, and pressed it on her neck. All of the men watched, stunned. She froze in this position for a moment, emitting strange gurgling sounds, which got louder until, finally, they turned into hoarse, hardly-recognizable words:

“He came, he came, the boy with scars here came,

The one who’ll change forever the thinking of all men,

The one who’ll cut the Tree; he glorious will be,

As God supports him strongly, and he will make us free.”

She removed his foot from her neck and began to retreat, keeping her eyes on Kamolea.

 

“So many lengthy years I waited for this day,

The day when he’ll appear with a mighty ax in hand,

The day of New Beginning, as stated by his name,

The day I’ll pass away and suffocate my flame.”

           

Akamui snorted.

“What the fuck was that?” he yelled. “I understand nothing of your babble, woman. Can’t you speak like a normal person? We came to ask you what we should do with my son Kamolea because, apparently, we aren’t able to kill him. He betrayed our God and disgraced me, and he deserves to die, but the elements protect him and thunderbolts kill the people who try to punish him.”

            The ugly creature leaped on the top of the egg-shaped rock and kneeled. Her body shook uncontrollably and she began to scream. The echo bounced off the walls and resounded in the cave ten times more loudly. Akamui and Ahaki looked at each other, terrified.

            “Don’t be afraid, Chieftain, she’s just laughing,” said Talluti with a tinge of mockery in his voice.

            Kedia halted and tilted her head to one side. Her face was distorted into a ghastly grimace and her eyes rolled until only the sclera were visible. She stayed still for a moment and then from her mouth came a bass male voice:

 

“Oh, stupid mortal people, impossible it will be

That such a boy can master the elements and the sea,

However, I agree, indeed he has the key.

This island pretty small is for his great destiny.

 

So, put him in a boat supplied with food and water,

Enough for him for three days in order to survive,

Then kick him off the island instead of being slaughtered,

And may the elements and God take care of his life.

 

But never dare to kill him, as never you’ll be able

To bend him or extinguish the divine spark in him.

And shall a single hair of his head touch the ground,

Tremendous calamity awaits you for your sin,

 

And natural disaster will meet this land with fury,

And everyone will perish in awful pain and blood.

You’d better let the boy, who the Lord supports truly,

Go and pull you out of your disgusting mud.”

 

            She ended the last sentence with an awful scream, fell flat on her back, and remained motionless. The quiet rippling of the brook was the only sound breaking the portentous silence that lingered in the air.

Akamui looked helplessly at the others.

“Is she dead?”

“Nah, she’s just recovering from her trance. It’s gonna be a while until she comes around,” Talluti replied.

“Did you catch any of that nonsense?” The voice of Akamui trembled with rage.

“I did, and her words confirmed your vision, Chieftain Akamui,” Ahaki replied. “We need to put your son in a boat with food and water for three days and leave him at the mercy of the elements. In no case should we kill him, as that would provoke a colossal disaster.”

“Did you hear the same thing?” Akamui asked the guard.

“That’s what she said, precisely,” he answered, hardly able to keep a straight face.

“Let’s go then,” muttered Akamui, casting a murderous look at the guard. One by one, they squeezed their way out of the room. Kedia was still lying unconscious, wrapped in vapor.

As they advanced, Akamui whispered in Ahaki’s ear,

 “Take Kamolea and our men and wait for me at the end of the path. I have some business to finish with Kedia’s wardens.”

Ahaki nodded and took Kamolea’s rope. As they reached the entrance, he beckoned to Kamolea’s guards, bowed to the others, and hurried outside.

 “So, it’s time for us to go now,” Akamui said to Kedia’s keepers. “Thank you for your help and hospitality, I highly appreciate it. When you finish your sentence, come and see me and you will be richly rewarded.”

“It was a pleasure for us to help you, Chieftain Akamui,” said Talluti with a broad grin. “It was an amazing night. She’s terrible, this witch, ain’t she?”

“A horrible old hag,” agreed Akamui. “I never imagined such a disgusting creature. Goodbye, then.”

The two guards bowed slightly. Quick as a snake, Akamui drew his long knife and with one fierce stroke almost cut off the head of the still grinning Talluti. The other one jumped aside and drew his own knife, but he was too slow—with a mighty fling, Akamui thrust his spear into the guard’s chest. The latter dropped his knife, staggering. Blood spurted out of his mouth and he collapsed onto the ground. Akamui yanked out the spear, cast a quick look around, and dragged the corpses into a low niche inside the cave.

“I hope no-one finds them right away,” he muttered as he hurried to join Ahaki and the others, who waited for him by the treeline.

“Let’s go,” he grunted. “The day is breaking and I don’t want to meet the new shift. Ahaki will take care of Kamolea, and you two bring up the rear.”

They ran through the forest. Suddenly Akamui turned, gave a sign to Ahaki to continue, and disappeared into the dense thicket on the left. The guards appeared several yards after Kamolea and, as they passed the place where Akamui vanished, there was a swishing sound and a sharp cry rent the air. One man fell, writhing in agony, a spear sticking from his throat. His friend leaped to help him and another scream resounded, as Akamui’s knife flew out and thrust up to the hilt into his chest. Ahaki and Kamolea returned in a wild run and found Akamui squatting beside the corpses, wiping his knife with a tuft of grass.

Ahaki said nothing. He suspected that something was wrong from the moment the elders called Akamui for a private talk just before their departure. When the chieftain returned from Steamy Cave without the two wardens, Ahaki was already sure.

“Let’s hide them and move on,” grunted Akamui, and dragged one body in the shrubs. Ahaki tugged the rope, but Kamolea didn’t budge.

For the first time, his admiration for his father was replaced by boiling resentment toward all these meaningless killings.

“Do you hear me?” bellowed Akamui from afar. “Move your asses, bring the other!”

“Why did you kill these men?” shouted Kamolea, beside himself with rage. “They had done nothing bad, had they? You don’t even know their names…”

Akamui jumped out from the bushes and swooped at Kamolea. “You, fucking son of a snake, it’s your fault they are dead. How you dare to speak at all, you filthy worm?”

He gave him a hard backhand blow. Kamolea rolled over, his upper lip split in two.

“Not a word from your mouth, you fucking coward, or I’ll wring your neck despite all the bloody signs and warnings,” he hissed and spat on him, then rushed to haul away the other corpse.

The return journey passed in complete silence as they ran as fast as they could until they reached Kepolo’s belt.

As all bad things come in threes, once again, Kamolea was locked up in a cage, and the Council was summoned. Akamui and Ahaki explained Kedia’s message. At the beginning nobody agreed with her words, and even Akamui was hesitant, but Ahaki fought fiercely and, after a long debate, convinced the elders that they had no choice but to respect her decision.

“However, we need to be sure that this boy will never come back to our land,” Hamaki pointed out.

“Well, I think sending him alone in the boundless sea in an oarless boat, with a scarce supply of food and water, is pretty equal to death,” said Ahaki. “I suggest leaving him at the north side where the currents are stronger and he will have no chance of returning safely. Even better, let’s paint the boat with the Tipihao signs of war, and even if he reaches another island, the other tribes will know that he is one of us and will kill him immediately.”

“Excellent idea,” said Hauni approvingly.

“One thing I know for sure,” said Keko, standing. “Once we cast the traitor off, he will be our enemy forever; he will no longer belong to our tribe, and if he dares to set foot on our land again, he will be doomed.”

“Let’s vote, then,” Hamaki sighed. “I don’t want to be the one to announce our decision, though. I can imagine the comments: The son of the chieftain gets away with treason and the former chieftain’s death…”

“Don’t worry, leave that to me,” said Akamui. “I will convince them it’s Kepolo’s will, and let’s see if anyone dares to challenge me.”

“We shouldn’t go to extremes,” Aleki put in. “We’re all behind you in this decision. The most important thing is that nobody mentions Kedia’s name. Let’s vote now.”

***

The north shore was crowded with people who had come to see Kamolea’s fate. Everybody was surprised that the gathering was not, as usual, at the Sacred Zone, and the rumors that the Council had decided to drown Kamolea in the sea as a sacrifice to the Sea God Akuakai circulated everywhere.

The rain had stopped, but grey rags of clouds dragged along the sky. It was windy and hot. With a bent head, his hands tied in front of him, Kamolea stood near the water beside a canoe, painted on the bow with the totem of the Tipihao tribe: a tree with a dangling skull.

Kamolea looked haggard and miserable. Shame and despair burned his insides and tore his heart apart. The lump in his throat grew bigger and bigger, almost suffocating him. He ducked whenever a stone or chunk of wood was thrown at him from the crowd. Spiteful and derisive stares bored into him, and the desultory shouts of “traitor,” “coward,” “shame,” “worthless,” “kill him,” and “sacrifice him” stabbed his heart as if with a knife.

He glimpsed Lalago but he was fervently searching for Illima. She had surely witnessed yesterday’s mess, and he was not sure what she would think about all this. Did she still love him, or consider him a coward and a traitor like everybody else? If she was not here now, then the latter was more probable...

A stone hit his shoulder and broke his thoughts. He leaped aside to avoid another one and a seagull’s egg landed on his neck. Dizzy and humiliated, he wished he could clean his neck of the slimy, dripping yolk. At that moment, the crowd parted, and the guards stepped aside to make a place for Akamui, who walked toward him, followed by the elders.

            Everybody fell silent, watching the chieftain.

            “Proud Tipihaos,” he shouted. “Do you see this boy? Until yesterday, he was my beloved son, my pride, and my hope. Today he is the worst traitor and coward ever to have been born on Maniha Komu. The shame he brought is not only mine; he is a disgrace to our tribe and our god.”

            Wild boos and catcalls accompanied his speech.

“You all know what happened yesterday,” continued Akamui. “It was a terrible day for all of us. After realizing that it is impossible to kill Kamolea, we prayed all night to Almighty Kepolo in hope that he would lead us to the right decision. And he, as always, showed us the way and gave us his signs, so that we finally learned the truth. Kamolea is bewitched. An evil spirit, planted in him by our enemies through magic, possesses him.

“According to the revelation we received from the Great Kepolo, we must not kill the boy on the islands, as his enchanted spirit will provoke a terrible natural disaster. Our God told us to cast Kamolea off. We will put him in the unmanageable boat without oars, with minimal supplies, and leave him in the sea at the mercy of the elements and the sharks. His chances of survival are practically nil. But even if he somehow survives, he must never return to our native land, as death will always await him here. My talk is over!”

            Without waiting for a reaction, he turned to the guards and ordered,

“Take him to the boat!”

            “It’s not enough,” shouted someone from the crowd. “He deserves to die!”

            “Don’t protect your son!” yelled another.

“Yeah, death for him,” echoed scattered shouts.

“He will die anyway,” cried Akamui. “There are things you don’t understand, folks; don’t forget that I am also a shaman of the Almighty Kepolo and if someone challenges my decision, he is going directly against our god.”

The grumbling was getting louder and louder, but nobody dared to defy Akamui, who stood firmly set, his legs slightly apart, his dark, sturdy silhouette outlined against the cloudy sky. His posture projected wild, rudimentary strength that nobody wanted to test.

One of the guards pushed Kamolea toward the water with the blunt end of his spear, while another one pulled the canoe into the sea.

“Get in the boat,” Akamui shouted.

Kamolea cast a glance at the throng and met Illima’s gaze. She was in the first row and stared at him intently, her eyes streaming pity and love. When she caught his eyes, she smiled at him, brought her fingers to her lips, and blew him a kiss. Kamolea’s heart fluttered.

            “She still loves me!” he wanted to cry out to all these gruesome, croaking people with faces distorted by hatred. At that moment he didn’t care what they were thinking or yelling. The only thing that mattered was the look on Illima’s lovely face and the gesture of love she had sent to him. It was like a salve on his wounded, torn-apart soul. In response to her kiss, he raised his left hand and pressed his lips to her bracelet.

“Get in the fucking boat,” bellowed the guard, who then struck him in the face.

Kamolea waded in the water and climbed into the bobbing canoe, which was already attached to a considerably bigger boat with six men inside, ready at the oars. Heartbroken and miserable, blood dripping from his nose, his gaze swept to the cliff with his little cave and back to the crowd where Anuro, Illima, and Lalago waved him goodbye. The sorrow suffocated him as he realized that he’d never see them again.

The warriors pulled at the oars, the little canoe rocked, and Maniha Komo gradually receded.

Thousands of memories started buzzing in Kamolea’s head. In quick succession, before his eyes, rolled scenes from his childhood: a walk with his grandmother, a hunt with his father, training in the jungle, the games played with his peers, his first kiss with Illima at Butterfly Waterfall. Tears started rolling down his face and he sobbed uncontrollably.

            The boat cleaved the waves faster and faster. Maniha Komu had disappeared from view a long time ago. The Tipihaos, hauling the canoe, cast contemptuous glances at the crying boy who had never had the chance to become a man. They rowed tirelessly toward the horizon until the last birds vanished, and everything was water and heaven as far as the eye could see.

Then the canoe slowed down as one of the rowers cut it adrift. The big boat faded away in Maniha Komo’s direction, leaving Kamolea alone in the middle of the infinite blue immensity.