105- The secret about manifestation

Better'n yesterday. I stepped over to see that spesh Smart. My joints'n'bones groaned some. Meronym said I'd 'ready met this Prescient what she said was named Duophysite, an' I said I'd not f'gotten 'cos he'd been so scarysome. The windowed Prescient was list'nin' to us, an' his

skel'tony face soft'ned jus' one shade. Oh, I wish we wasn't meetin' in such dark times, Zachry, said Duophysite, but I'm askin' you to guide Meronym on one last trek, to Ikat's Finger. You know it?

Yay, I knowed it, northly from the Last Valley over Pololu Bridge, a long spit o' land what pointed nor'eastly. Was the Ship an-chorin' for Mer- onym at Ikat's Finger?

The two Prescients bartered a glance, an' Duophysite spoked after a beat. We got bad news of our own to teach you, sorrysome to say. The ori- sons on Prescience an' the Ship ain't answered no transmission for days'n'days.

What's a transmission? I asked.

A message, said Meronym, a window, an orison gath'rin' like we was discussin' with Duophysite now.

I asked, Are the orisons busted?

Way worser it may be, speaked the windowed un, see in recent moons a plague's neared Prescience Isle, westly from Ank'ridge, yay, a terrorsome sick what our Smart can't cure. Jus' one in two hundred what catch this plague s'vive it, yay. Us Prescients on Ha-Why we got to act like we're on our own now 'cos the Ship prob'ly ain't comin'.

But what 'bout Anafi, Meronym's son? Meronym's face made me wish I'd bit my tongue off b'fore I'd asked.

I got to live with not knowin', said my friend, so bleaksome I could o' blubbed. I ain't the first un who lived so, an' I ain't the last neither.

Well, that yibber busted a hope in me what I'd not cogged I'd got. I asked Duophysite how many Prescients was there on Hole Ha-Why.

Five, answered the man. Five hun'erd? I asked.

Duophysite seen my dismay an' knowed it too. Nay jus' five. One on each main I o' the chain. Our hole true is simply telled, an' it's time now you knowed it. We anxed this plague'd reach Prescience an' snuff out Civ'lize's last bright light. We was searchin' for good earth to plant more Civ'lize in Ha-Why, an' we din't want to scare you islandsmen by big num- bers of offlanders.

So you see, spoked Meronym now, your fears 'bout my true aims'n'all wasn't total wrong.

I din't care 'bout that no more. I said, if Prescients was like Meronym, yay, five thousand of 'em'd o' been welcomed in the Valleys.

Duophysite darked, thinkin' how few Prescients might be livin' now. The boss o' my tribe here on Maui where I'm speakin' to you from is a friend- some leader same as your Abbess. He's say-soed two war kayaks to cross the Maui Straits what'll be at Ikat's Finger come noon the day after 'mor- row.

I vowed him I'd get Meronym safe there by then.

Then I can thank you for helpin' her in person. Duophysite plussed there'd be space on them kayaks if I wanted to 'scape off Big I with her.

That settled my mind. Thank you, I telled the stranded Prescient, but I got to stay an' find my fam'ly.

We stayed hid in that ruin one more night for my muscles to knit'n'my bruisin' to heal. Heartbuggahin' it was not rushin' back to the Valleys for battlin' or reccyin', but Meronym seen the Kona horses'n'crossbowmen pourin' t'ward the Valleys via Kuikuihaele an' she 'ssured me, there'd not o' been no dragged battlin' for Nine Valleys yay it'd all o' been over in hours not days, nay.

Bleaksome'n'haunted day it was. Meronym teached me how to use that spesh shinboney shooter. We practiced on pineapples then giant burrs then acorns till my aim was sharp. I sentried while Meronym sleeped, then she sentried while I sleeped some more. Soon our fire was dirtyin' twilight mist again  an'  we  dined  on  Kona  rations  o'  salt  mutton'n'seaweed an' lilikoi fruits what growed in that ruin. I filled the horse's oat bag an' pet- ted him an' named him Wolt 'cos he was ugly as my cuz, then gloomed hurtsome, wond'rin' who o' my kin was still livin'. True-be-telled, not knowin' the worst is badder'n knowin' it.

A flutterby-thinkin' touched me, an' I asked Meronym why a Shipwoman rode horses as good as any Kona. She 'fessed most Prescients cudn't ride no animal, but she'd lived with a tribe called the Swannekke what lived way past Ank'ridge an' way past Far Couver. The Swannekke bred horses like Valleysmen bred goats, yay, an' their littl' uns could ride b'fore they

could walk, an' she'd learnt durin' her seasons with them. Meronym teached me lots 'bout the tribes she'd lived 'mongst, but I ain't got time for those yarns now, nay, it's gettin' late. We speaked 'bout the 'morrow's route to Ikat's Finger, see, one way was to follow the Kohalas' razorback over Nine Valleys, but 'nother way was to follow Waipio River down to Abel's Garri- son first an' spy what we'd spy. We din't know see if the Kona'd slashed'n'burned then emptied the Valleys like they'd done the Mookini or if they was aimin' to conquer'n'settle our dwellin's an' slave us in our own lands. Now I'd vowed to get Meronym to Ikat's Finger safe'n'sound an' rec- cyin' 'bout Kona horsemen weren't safe nor sound, but Meronym say-soed we'd spy the Valleys first an' so the 'morrow's way was settled.

Dawn fogged waxy'n'silty. It weren't easy gettin' the horse over the Kohala Ridge'n'thickets to Waipio Spring, not knowin' if a Kona platoon was wai- tin' thru the walls o' cane we was noisesomely hackin'. Mostly we'd to walk'n'lead the beast, but we reached the spring fin'ly by noon an' tethered him in a hollow upgulch an' creeped the mile to Abel's 'long the spruce spur. Fog turned ev'ry tree stump into a huddled Kona sentry, but still I was thanksome to Sonmi for the camo. We spied over the peerin' lip an' looked down on the garrison. Grim viewin', yay. Only Abel's gates stood shut, see, the walls'n'outbuildin's was all charred'n'busted. A naked man was hanged off the gate bar, yay, by his ankles in the Kona way, maybe it were Abel an' maybe it weren't, but crows was 'ready minin' his guts an' a pair o' ballsy dingos scavvin' dropped slops.

Now as we watched, a thirty– forty-head roundup o' slaved Valleysmen was bein' shunted out to Kuikuihaele. I'll mem'ry that sight till my dyin' day an' longer. Some was mulin' carts o' loot'n'gear. Kona shouts'n'say-soes ruckused an' whips crackled. The fog was too swampy for me to make out my tribesmen's faces, but, oh, sorrysome was their figures dragglin' out t'ward Sloosha's Crossin'. Ghosts. Livin' ghosts. Watch the fate o' the last Civ'lized tribe o' the Big I, thinked I, yay, the result of our school'ry'n'Icon'ry, jus' slaved for Kona fields an' dwellin's an' stables an' beds an' holes in Leeward ground.

What could I do? Rush 'em? Some twenty Kona horsemen was convoyin' 'em off the Leeward. Even with Meronym's shooter I could maybe take out five o' the twenty sentries, maybe more if I got lucky, but then what? The Kona'd spiker ev'ry Valleysman to death at the first whisp o' knucklyin'.

This weren't Zachry the Cowardy knucklyin' Zachry the Brave, nay, it was Zachry the Soosider knucklyin' Zachry the S'viver, an' I ain't got no shame to say which Zachry vic'tried. To Meronym I signaled we was retreatin' back to the horse tho' tears was in my eyes.