Whare Potae (The House of Mourning)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Author's Note: You all have been unbelievably kind, thoughtful and encouraging in the comments that you've left on my work, even about my author's notes! I'm deeply, deeply touched and gratified. You're all lovely people, do you know that? I hope you know that, because it is absolutely true. Thank you so much. My head is feeling much better, for now.

For the next...oof, almost 24 hours I will be auditioning both friends and strangers to perform in my theater company's upcoming production of Much Ado About Nothing. There are seventeen roles, large and small, and we're currently looking at over 40 actors potentially coming out to fill those roles.

It is going to be a rather long, very exhilarating couple of days. I will try to update a couple of times this weekend, if only to relieve some stress!

I'm ready for some stress relief right now, aren't you?

Chapter Twenty-Six

After meeting with the village council and delivering the happy news that the ocean was now on her side again, Moana walked back out into the square just in time to see Maui, with his hook raised over his head, as though he was about to transform.

"Hey," she asked, walking up behind him. "What are you doing?"

Startled, Maui spun around, dropped the hook in his surprise, and swallowed.

"Nothing," he assured her." Me? What? I'm uh...nothing. Doing nothing, yep, that's me. Not a thing. Uh, how are you?"

Moana had a suspicion that she knew exactly what he was doing. Smiling, she pointed an accusing finger at him.

"You were about to go back to the ocean, weren't you...to go fishing?" She shook her head at him. "You know, I didn't believe it when I first met you, but sometimes, when you're trying hard, there are some very, very heroic things about you after all...but don't expect to hear me say that again. Oh, but if you're going down to the sea, I'll come with you. We'll be able to carry more fish, that way."

"Uhhh...no." Maui took a hasty step away from her. "Thanks, but I don't need any help. Pretty sure I got too much fish last time, anyway, so it's not like we need to carry more. I'll be fine."

"You don't want a little company?" Glancing over her shoulder at her parents' house, Moana sighed. "Okay, come on, if you leave me in the village by myself, Mom and Dad will remind me of all the 'important, Chiefly duties' I've been shirking while you and I were off having adventures, and I won't have a good excuse not to go tally the chicken-feed stores, or to practice my flute before my lesson with the Tohunga in the morning, or...you know, any of that stuff. I can't do any of that, though, if I'm down by the water fishing with you, to feed my people, right? Please? Pretty please? I promise, we can use the harness this time. I won't even argue."

She tried a winning grin, but Maui didn't look even remotely amused.

"Can't," he muttered. "My, uh, shoulders still hurt from our flight back at Rarohenga. I can't carry you right now."

He shrugged and held out his hands in a gesture of apology, and Moana was surprised to notice that the deep, dark gashes in his right palm seemed somehow to have gotten worse. Blood had dried in little patches all over the hand, but around those patches the skin was stained, puckered, drawn and shriveled like old fruit. It looked dry and terribly painful.

"That looks...awful," she mumbled. "Um, I think maybe you should see a healer."

"I told you, I'm fine," he snapped, snatching the hand away from her and tucking it self-consciously behind his back.

"I've never seen a wound like that before," she insisted. "Maui...what happened back there?"

Maui didn't say anything. He looked distant, distracted, like he was thinking hard about something else. Moana realized what she'd already begun to suspect, ever since they'd escaped from Rarohenga; something was more than just a little bit wrong.