PoraBora

Chapter Fifty-One

Pora awoke, pushing himself to his elbows in a hurry. The first surprise was that he wasn't dead. He wasn't tied up. Neither was Hui, but that didn't matter. What mattered was Maye.

The god panted on the deck, stretched from tiller to bow, wings hanging over the railing. The warriors didn't seem to know what to do with it, but Pora was glad cooking it to death had been avoided.

The next surprise was that Pora was soaking wet, but he didn't notice the second bucket in time. Water splashed over him, and he gagged as he got to his feet.

"Hananai. Huhuoo bo." Hui put his hand on Pora's shoulder. "Tatalulu'u tu o'ola bo nu 'e apelaha."

Pora shrugged a pointed reminder. If only Samuelu had smuggled himself aboard. "Escort Maye?" he asked.

"Escort Maye," said Hui. "Mamakesa'a."

There was no point in asking questions. Pora walked over to the god. The warriors poured water on him with full buckets and a hose, which must have been weighted down past the oil to pump up clean water. The god didn't drink, but it must have cooled him down.

The fowl were spread in great number, too, but they weren't given more than the occasional spray by the hose.

Some of the warriors said something to him. Hui responded, and looks were shared, but he was left alone. It was no wonder why. They had more to worry about.

Keasau breached in the distance, and his wail tugged at Pora, but what could he do? Oil and jellyfish covered the distance between them, and the whitetip had backed far away from the fleet to tend to its wounded.

Of which there were many. It seemed every warrior nursed marks of burned flesh, some still scrubbing at tar. Grit teeth and swallowed screams were shared by both manner of warrior, and they sat or worked in tandem.

The deck was still covered in oil, but they did their best to clean it with long-handled brushes. Pora remembered Pe's boat and the work she had done for him then.

Pora felt weak, and was suddenly held up by Hui, who lifted a bowl of water to his lips.

"Ke'a 'o nonoi bo," said the boy.

Pora chugged it down, and the boy brought him more, then dunked another bucket on his head. Pora wiped his face and thought of all the fish to whom the water would have felt so refreshing, but instead were being boiled alive by Keasau's rage.

"Escort Maye," said Pora. "Then escort Keasau."

Hui glanced at the other warriors. "Ola'a'a Maye. Oweli."

He went back to speak with the other warriors.

He was distracting them, thought Pora. He thanked Hui with a mumble before he went to Maye.

The god's beak was nearly shut, hanging open just enough that the water splashed through when it was sprayed at him, but it turned its head Pora's way as he came close. Pora stopped. He did not want to anger it, and knew every living creature had its own range for comfort. But he had to speak to Maye, without the warriors hearing.

He took a step closer, and the god's legs tensed.

"Maye," said Pora, as quietly as he could, hoping the god of fowl could hear better than man. "Maye, we have to leave."

The god did not move.

"Maye, these warriors...maybe they saved you from dying, but they won't let you go. They won't let you go free. You're their prisoner." And Pora would be too. "We have to go. Can you fly? Do you have the strength?"