With a hop and a jump, Malone was soon standing, and then sitting, across the fire from Hau. The native glanced in Worthless’s direction. “You do not tie your animal?”
“Tie Worthless? That’ll be the day. Don’t worry, he’ll stick around. Ain’t nobody else would tolerate him, anyways.” The unicorn glanced up and with great deliberation and malice aforethought turned its head and sneezed directly onto Malone’s saddlebags.
“What’s a kupua?”
“The child of a god. You can recognize them by their great strength and beauty. Or by their great ugliness and the terror they inspire in others.” Hau studied Malone’s face. “Possibly one can be both strong and ugly.”
Malone grinned. “Thanks fer the compliment. I think.”
“I am an ali’i, a noble.” Hau sat straighter. “I will always tell the truth.”
“And what is the truth tonight, Hau?” Malone picked up an unburned stick and casually toyed with the fire.
Hau leaned closer. “What do you know of Lahaina?”
Malone considered. “It’s hotter than the hinges o’ Hell, the whalers ’ave made it the liveliest port in the Pacific, and they’re always going at it hammer an’ tong with the missionaries. On t’ other hand, I understand there’s a real school above the town.”
“Lahainaluna, yes. A copy of your New England schools and almost twenty years old now. A very good school that teaches both haole and local children modern ways.” His voice dropped. “That is why Kanaloaiki hates it.”
“Somebody hates a school? Thet ain’t right.”
“Not only the school,” Hau continued. “He hates everything about Lahaina and what it has done to the people. Since King Kamehameha III moved the kingdom’s capital to Honolulu, Kanaloaiki’s ire has only increased.”
Malone nodded. “Tell your friend things’ll settle down. There’s fewer whales this year than last, and so fewer whalers. There’ll be fewer still next year and the year after that. But the school should stay. It’s a good school, I hear, and a good school is a good thing.”
“Not to Kanaloaiki. He has vowed to destroy it, and all of Lahaina, and all who share in its life. He makes no distinctions. All are to die: haoles, missionaries, and local people alike. The town will be razed to the ground. Not even a breadfruit tree is to be left standing.”
“I see.” Malone considered the stars. “This Kanaloaiki, he’s a powerful chief with a lot o’ warriors who’ll follow him?”
“Worse.” Hau shook his head. “He is a kahuna ’ana’ana, a sorcerer who practices black magic. For more than a year now he has been gathering the materials for a great spell that he plans to cast on a certain mountain.” The ali’i pointed into the darkness. “That mountain.”
Turning, Malone could just make out the dark ridgeline of a nearly six-thousand-foot-high peak.
“That is Pu’u Kukui. It has been asleep for as long as we can remember. But the island is not. Less than seventy years ago there was a modest eruption far to the south of here, on the slopes of the House of the Sun.” He smiled. “I know this because I have been to the school. I know it did not happen because Pele was angry. It was geology.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Malone murmured. “This Kanaloaiki, he thinks he can reawaken the old volcano?”
Hau nodded solemnly. “Lahaina lies at its foot. The town will die, buried beneath fast-flowing superhot aa. Nothing will remain. The school, too, will be buried, and the ships offshore will go away and not come back. So Kanaloaiki intends. Thousands of people will die.”
“You can’t stop him?”
“Nothing can stop the spell. Not now.” Hau brooded over the fire. “Kanaloaiki began last week. Once begun, it can only be countered after it has started.”
“What about your local kahunas? Do they all support Kanaloaiki?”
Hau looked up. “No. Most are against what he is trying to do. But they are all afraid of him. His power is very great. But you are not afraid of him, haole kahuna.”
Malone shrugged. “Haven’t met the old boy. Don’t see offhand what I kin do, though. How d’you counter a spell that can’t be countered until after it’s begun?”
“I have been told there is a way. There is a tool. A special tool. The wisest kahunas say it still exists, but none believe them.”
“Except you.”
Hau nodded. “I would use it if I could to stop what Kanaloaiki intends. But while I am ali’i, I am not a kahuna. I do not have the power to use such a thing. If it exists. But another, one not afraid of Kanaloaiki or under his sway, might do so.” He looked searchingly at Malone.
“Whoa, now. I’m just here t’ look over the cattle-raisin’ prospects fer a friend o’ mine. Course, I don’t much like the idea o’ standing by while a few thousand innocent folk get burned and buried alive. Never much did. I just ain’t sure I kin do anything about it.”
Hau considered. “If I show you the best land for cattle, will you consider helping?”
“It’s sure enough a good cause. All right, I’ll see what I kin do. Now, where’s this here good grazin’ land you’re talking about?”
“It’s very interesting, but the place you are talking about and the place I am talking about are in fact the same place.”
Malone grunted. “Don’t say? And whut place might thet be?”
Hau turned and nodded to his right. “You will see tomorrow, Amos Malone. Tonight it sleeps beneath the blanket of night. Tomorrow I will take you to the House of the Sun.”
The House of the Sun, or Haleakala, as the natives called it, rose to a height of more than ten thousand feet, completely dominating the entire island. It wasn’t its height that impressed Malone, who had seen far taller mountains elsewhere. It wasn’t even its breadth, which allowed for a slope so gradual as to be almost imperceptible.
No, it was the weight of the mountain, which plunged another twenty-seven thousand feet to the ocean floor. Composed almost entirely of cementlike solidified aa, the mountain was massive enough to dimple the earth’s crust beneath it. Unlike many mountains, which were simply magnificently decorative, this one had a presence you could feel. Malone sensed it as the light broke over the distant summit, and commented on it to Hau.
“It is the House of the Sun,” the native replied simply. “No one may go there save ali’i, and none may live upon its upper reaches but kahuna. You can go there. I cannot.”
Malone reined in Worthless. Hau had been walking alongside the entire way, refusing to ride behind Malone or even alternate in the saddle with him. He was, he assured Malone, quite comfortable walking.
As they ascended, villagers came to gawk at the huge haole and his companion ali’i. The two travelers were offered food and deference in equal quantities, and the locals marveled at Malone’s appetite. A few of the children, grinning and giggling, tried to play with Worthless. The great black steed generally ignored them, even when they swung from his tail or tugged on his mane. He munched fruit in quantity and reacted only once to the juvenile attention.
One of the older youngsters stood directly in front of the stallion and reached for the patch on its forehead, intending to pull it loose and see what it concealed. The next moment he was running and crying for his mother, who was unable to determine exactly how he had been struck in the eye by a flying mango pit.
As the two men climbed, the air grew steadily cooler. About three degrees for every thousand feet, Malone reckoned. More than adequately protected in his buckskins and boots, he marveled at the nearly naked Hau’s ability to withstand the increasing chill.