Click on image to enlarge.

	Regular				Club
You Pay:	$8.99				$7.64

eBook Category: Fantasy
eBook Description: War is a distant memory on the island, and life should be returning to the former days of calm and abundance. Yet evil is spreading throughout the land, leaving disturbances and distress in its wake. People are reporting that they have seen strange sights out upon the water. Children are missing from the islands and also from the mainland, while hungry sharks in search of food swim closer to land than ever before. What is upsetting the delicate balance of the land and the sea? Iuti Mano, kinswoman of the sharks, is beginning to suspect that her violent history is catching up with her. She has killed the god of the sharks in order to free herself, but now, with her beloved children joining the ranks of the missing, she must fight to restore that which she had most wanted to slay…

eBook Publisher: e-reads, Published: 1993
Fictionwise Release Date: October 2001

11 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [970 KB], eReader (PDB) [299 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [304 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [271 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [248 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [291 KB], hiebook (KML) [727 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [315 KB], iSilo (PDB) [251 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [313 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [349 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [411 KB]
Words: 96547
Reading time: 275-386 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

"The Kanai lagoon lay like a great, gleaming jewel in the afternoon sun. Only the faintest of ocean breezes rippled its calm surface. Coconut fronds whispered softly along the shore while the rich, heavy fragrance of roasting breadfruit and taro scented the air.

In the shallows, near where Iuti Mano stood, small reeffolk moved among the colorful corals covering the reef flat. A needlefish nosed a sponge coral under the watchful eye of an almost hidden eel, and a tiny clown fish slid through the scarlet folds of a featherlike anemone. A hermit crab, housed in a cracked and fading shell, scuttled across an open spot leaving a small cloud of billowing sand in its wake.

A flash of blue-green drew Iuti's attention to deeper water. Out where the reef dropped off into the center of the lagoon a pair of parrot fish was feeding on the coral. The shining tip of a sand shark's dorsal fin split the surface near them and its sudden, silent appearance sent the fish streaking away.

Iuti smiled at that distant display of her clan cousin's power. For just a moment, she let herself wish she could join the shark in the cool lagoon waters. She pictured herself swimming strongly at its side, sharing its ocean-born strength and her human warrior's cunning.

There was a time when she could have done such a thing. As a young woman, she had swum at the side of Mono Niuhi, the great shark god himself. But that time was long past. It had been more than sixteen years since even the gentle reef sharks would allow her to swim among them. She fingered the jagged scars that lined her right cheek.

"You haven't the brains of a sea slug, Napu!"

Iuti's thoughts were startled back to the present by Kaia's shrill cry.

"You wouldn't even recognize the brains of a slug!" Napu shouted back--and Iuti Mano cursed as the argument that had brought her to this distant atoll began all over again.

She pushed herself away from the coconut tree against which she had been resting. "Neither one of you has the brains of a slug," she muttered.

She straightened her shirt and her sword belt. The fragile morning peace had been shattered.

Kaia and Napu had been arguing for weeks. They were paramount chiefs on Kanai and they were fighting over which, if any, section of reef should be closed to honor the death spirit of a Kanai child who had drowned some months before.

Kaia claimed the closure must be made even though no body had been found. She insisted that the girl's spirit had to be respected for at least a brief time, lest her ghost come back to haunt the lagoon. Kaia's younger brother Napu believed the girl's spirit had been stolen by a ghost already resident on the reef. He feared adding to that evil spirit's power.

In truth, they fought over power of their own--and which of them held the right to wield it.

It was obvious neither of them cared about the dead girl herself. She had carried no hitgh rank in the clan, and she'd been badly scarred in a cookfire accident the year before. Her ruined looks and her resultant smoldering anger had caused her to be treated as an outsider even while she still lived. Iuti could well understand why Kaia would not want the ghost of such a shunned child to wander freely over the reef.

Still, it was a family squabble. It would never have been known to the outside world had Kaia and Napu not ordered the lagoon closed to outsiders until their argument was settled. Kanai Atoll was located along the most profitable trade route to the distant western islands, and travelers needed it as a last watering and provision stop before crossing the wide sea beyond.

Tensions were already running high in the eastern islands, and trouble of all sorts was on the rise, although for no apparent reason. The southern chieftains and the mainland trader's guild had asked Iuti to come to Kanai to settle this dispute before trade and travel wars flared.

Three weeks, she thought. Three weeks I have wasted, coming here to reason with these folk who do not want to reason.

Usually, the very presence of a warrior of her status served to cool tempers and bring about peace, but these stubborn atoll dwellers cared not at all that she was there.

"Mano Niuhi give me patience," she sighed as she turned away from the quiet lagoon to try reason once again.

Kaia and Napu stood face to face outside the nearest of the thatched canoe houses. They were shouting and nagging, accusing and threatening, just as they'd done so many times before. They were surrounded by kinfolk--cousins and uncles and aunts, and their younger sister Alama, who was the only sensible one among them. Only a few were trying to calm the feuding pair.

Suddenly, Kaia screamed an outlander curse. A knife flashed in her hand. Iuti raced forward, thrusting aunties and uncles from her path, but Kaia's knife was into and out of her brother's chest in a move almost too fast to see. The man's eyes opened wide, then fluttered closed. He collapsed to the ground.

Dead, Iuti knew from the shape of his fall, and she cursed the foul luck of the day. Kaia's wild thrust had found Napu's heart.

Kaia stared at her brother, then around at their gathered kin.

Only Alama realized immediately what had happened. She covered her mouth with her hands and began backing away. Finally, one of the aunties began to scream.

"I didn't mean it!" Kaia cried. Her eyes were wild with pain and abrupt fear. She turned in a circle, still clutching the bloodied knife. "I didn't--"

She stopped when she saw Iuti.

"He was a fool, a braggart," she shouted. "I am the eldest sister. I am the clan leader. This is my reef!"

"Aye," Iuti said quietly. "It is yours now, Kaia. Put down the knife."

"Take it from me, warrior," Kaia called. "You came here to do battle. Do it!" She slashed the long knife toward Iuti.

"Kaia, don't..." Alama began. The auntie's scream trembled into a warbling death wail.

Kaia moved toward Iuti.

Iuti took a careful step back. She had no intentions of making war on this poor, sad woman. All she could, do was try to bring Kaia back to calm, then leave her in the hands of her kinfolk. This family had more difficult decisions now than whether or not to set a reef closure for an unloved child.

"There is no need for further bloodshed," Iuti said.

Tears streaked Kaia's face. Her sun-browned skin had turned mottled with grief and anger--and shame. "Do you think I don't know what I've done?" she cried. "Do you think I don't know?"

Iuti lifted a hand. Kaia slashed at it with the knife and Iuti snatched her hand away. The watching kin edged back.

"Put down the knife," Iuti said again.

"Kaia! Do as she says!" Alama shouted. It was an order.

Kaia ignored it.

Her eyes suddenly darkened. Her expression and her hand clutching the knife grew calm. Iuti recognized her decision even as she made it, and cursed again, aloud this time. What dark evil had touched this isle that could make such foolish chaos happen?

Kaia threw herself at Iuti, knife flashing.

Iuti's defense was automatic. She slid her sword from its sheath and up into Kaia's chest in a single movement. Iuti shuddered inwardly as her blade passed through the island woman's heart. Ice touched her soul for just an instant. She said a word to protect herself from the killing thrust's chill, then sighed and withdrew her sword. Kaia's bulky body folded gracelessly to the ground.

Such a waste, Iuti thought, and was surprised by a sudden surge of unexpected anger. She hated killing. She hated even more being made to do it against her will. She forced herself back to calm.

The islanders stared at her, stunned into silence by this sudden, doubled loss to their family.

"Did you have to kill her?" a whispered voice asked. Alama, the youngest and now the only remaining direct inheritor to Kanai Atoll, stepped forward. She was no more than twenty years old, yet hers had been one of the few voices of reason during the long argument that had led to this moment.

Iuti kicked the knife away from the dead woman's hand. The blade was a wicked one, long and strong, honed to a razor's edge where it was not nicked from careless use. It was enough for the rest of them, the aunts and uncles, the cousins. They had all seen Kaia turn on Iuti after murdering her brother. The children had, blessedly, been ordered to the other side of the island before either of the killings took place.

It was not enough for Alama.

"Was there no other way? Couldn't you have used some magic--"

"I know no magic that could have saved your sister," Iuti said.

"But Kaia wasn't a warrior. You could have disarmed--"

"She wanted to die, Alama. If she hadn't, she would never have attacked me."

There was a long, painful silence. Alama's look shifted from Iuti's eyes to the scars on her cheek. It lowered to her chest where one of Mano Niuhi's teeth hung heavily from a thick necklace of braided human hair. Alama did not look again at the sword that had killed her sister.

The terrible sadness in Alama's expression showed that she understood. Kaia had deliberately killed one of her closest bloodkin. In so doing, she had lost more than her place as head of the clan; she had lost her very soul. Alama's protest had been born out of grief--and out of fear for what the future now held for herself and her family.

"If I had refused to honor her wish," Iuti said, "Kaia would have forced one of you to kill her and then another Kanai soul would have been lost. Her death touched me, but not as it would have one of you."

A soft sound of agreement, a murmur of relief, passed among the onlookers.

"I didn't come here to do violence," Iuti said. "I sought to find some peaceful solution to the feud between these two, so that the atoll could be reopened and much larger hostilities averted."

"The warrior stood between Kaia and Napu for many days, Alama," an elderly woman said.

Another agreed. "She did what she could to avert this end."

Yet another muttered, "I told you that cursed child would take her revenge."

Alama squatted beside her fallen sister. She picked up the blood-limed knife. Her fist closed tight around its hilt. Once again her kinfolk sucked in tight breaths of concern.

By the gods, Iuti begged Alama silently. Don't make me kill you, too. There's been waste enough here today.

Iuti hated family conflicts. She'd never been able to decide which was worse, the great bloody battlefields of open warfare or these tiny pockets of personal strife that, if left unattended, too often led to war.

Alama shifted the knife to her opposite hand. Blood had beaded like teardrops along the tarnished blade. "I used this knife last evening," she said softly, "to peel breadfruit for the meal that was to celebrate an end to this foolish feud." Tears appeared suddenly. Her body spasmed and she bent forward, folded into a moment of tight, personal grief.

When she moved again, it was to stab the blade into the ground. The blood pooled into small rivulets and drained away into the sandy soil.

Alama stood and met Iuti's look. "Kanai Lagoon will be reopened," she said. "Travelers' truce will be honored without further delay."

She glanced once, quickly, around at the others. They replied with a cautious silence that acknowledged her right to make that decision. There were no more direct siblings, and Alama's sensible actions even before this gruesome end had proven her better suited to her new rank than either of her elder siblings had been.

"Three sections of the northern reef will be closed," Alama said. "One to honor the spirits of each of our dead kin. The child's will include the place where she disappeared, and it will lie between the two others. The closure will be for three years. At its end, all the evil will be gone and the reef will be rich with sea-life to provide a fitting family feast."

Again there came silent agreement.

Iuti didn't relax; she would not until she had left this place. There was still a heavy air of anger and smoldering resentment lingering among this group of grieving kin. She shifted her stance slightly to encompass comfort along with caution. She hesitated, then pulled a soft length of white cloth from beneath her belt and began wiping the blood from her sword.

Had she been alone, she would have used the dead woman's already ruined apron, but she doubted even the sensible Alama would allow her that practicality. Economy rarely applied when it came to dealing with other people's dead. Iuti slid her blade into its scabbard and tucked the stained scarf back out of sight.

"If you will bring my travel bag to my canoe, I'll go now," she said.

"You ... you are welcome to stay," Alama replied.

For a moment Iuti was afraid Alama would invite her to share in the meal of roasted taro and breadfruit. But the woman said no more. The offer had been merely an expression of formal island courtesy.

"My work here is finished," Iuti said, hoping her relief was not too obvious. She did not want to eat again with these people whose clan sister she had killed. "I will go."

Alama made no attempt to hide her relief. She immediately ordered one of the younger cousins to the village for Iuti's bag and another to bring water and drinking coconuts. She told the others to begin funeral preparations, then led Iuti away from the death site.

"You have not seen Kanai Atoll at its best," she said when they had reached the beach and Iuti's small canoe. It had been covered with cut coconut fronds to keep it from drying out in the hot, summer sun.

Iuti nodded.

"Will you need food?"

"Only water," Iuti said. "I'll be sailing directly back to the mainland and there are islands enough along my route to keep me supplied. I will fish along the way."

For just an instant, Alama looked wistful, as if she wished it was she who was about to sail free of Kanai Lagoon. If she had ever hoped for such a fate, her chance had passed. As clan head and much-needed peacekeeper here on this strategic island, Alama was now tied to this place as surely as if she were a coral stone rooted solidly into the reef.

"Where will you go now?" she asked.

"My children await me in Sandar."

Alama's wide eyes widened. "You have kin in the river city?"

Iuti almost smiled. She knew her reputation among the islanders included endless rumors about her kinship with the sharks. During and following the Teronin War, the traveling tale tellers had turned her adventures with the shark god into fables that only occasionally touched on the truth. Few outlanders ever considered that she might have a human family, too.

"I have a son," she said, "and a foster daughter."

A young man hurried up to them carrying Iuti's bag. She took it from him while he pulled the coconut fronds from the canoe and pushed it into the shallows. There was no need to check her belongings. No one on this island would have touched her things. She shifted her sheathed sword to her back as another of Alama's new wards dropped a stem of green drinking nuts into the hull.

"Today is the anniversary of my boy's naming day, his fifteenth birthday," Iuti said. "I promised I would escort him to the summer fair at Manara in celebration."

"Ahh," Alama sighed. "Kanai's quarrels have disturbed lives far beyond its own shores."

Iuti did smile then. "My son is a good-natured boy. He'll forgive me the delay. I just hope he hasn't decided to go to the fair without me." Or if he has, she thought, that Huluhulu will have sense enough to stop him. Kanaka was not particularly adept at recognizing trouble before it happened. He was much like his father.

Alama's chin lifted. Her tears had dried into gritty trails across her wind-weathered cheeks. "I cannot ... thank you for what you did here," she began, "but ...." Her look dropped to her hands, to the ground. For an instant, they shifted back toward the death site. The bodies were no longer there.

"You will do well, Alama of Kanai," Iuti said. "Your family and your neighbors will prosper under your care."

Alama met Iuti's look again and nodded. "I will try."

Iuti stepped into the water, welcoming its cool slide around her ankles. She tossed her bag into the canoe and climbed aboard.

"Warrior."

Iuti looked back.

Alama walked into the water. She pulled a large, ornate comb from her hair and held it out to Iuti. "For your son," she said. Her thick black hair tumbled down her back.

Iuti glanced down at the hairpiece. It was made of pearl shell, intricately carved. It looked like a betrothal gift, or an heirloom meant to be passed from generation to generation. It was much too fine to be given to a stranger. She made no move to take it.

"They say it brings good luck to gift a young man on his naming day," Alama said. "Take it, warrior. Kanai needs a turn of luck."

Iuti agreed with that. She took the comb, tucked it into her belt pouch, and began poling her canoe across the reef. When the water was deep enough, she raised her small sail and turned the outrigger toward the lagoon's single pass. She could taste Kanai's troubled air long after she reached the open sea.