Off the Plank: A Neverland Story

Chapter 29

The journey to the Nizhoni camp was a quiet one. Once back on the island, Kendan having been kept dry in Solarine's cupped hands, I kept the sleeping fairy close to my chest, safe within my fairy-sized pocket, so I could still perceive his breathing as he slept. I also held the chief's arm as we walked, as he was still very weak.

The three of us staggered through bushes and under low-hanging palms until we reached the thicker forests where the light was dim and I wished that Kendan had been conscious enough to guide us. I had to rely on instinct and memory, and I had confidence in neither. Wilthan had shown me paths to the Nizhoni camp before, but as we were coming from the lagoon instead of the fairy dwellings, I was soon lost. This caused a mild panic in me, as the thought repeated in my head: Kendan cannot die. Kendan cannot die.

"Chief," I said, my mind still mulling over what had occurred in the revelation room. "When you spoke of 'The Giver'... what does that mean? Is it your deity? As in, the Giver of life?"

He nodded. "He is known by different names to different peoples," Taputu said, his eyes on the ground where he carefully stepped. "My tribe recognizes and honors his power to give, and his power to take."

"So, is this a force led by chance?" I asked, stepping ahead of him so I could clear the way. The further we walked into the thicket, the less I recognized the terrain. "A being that takes and gives just to keep things in balance?"

"No, not by chance," Taputu said, shaking his head. "Always for a purpose. Always for our learning. If we mortals had everything, we would have nothing to ask for. Nothing to work for. No reason to trust a power outside of ourselves."

He paused in his tracks so I could climb atop a boulder that appeared in our path. I took his arm to help him over it, struggling to keep my fairy friend safe at the same time.

"How does it work, then?" I asked, jumping down after Taputu had made it over the boulder. "Who gets to receive and who doesn't?"

"To him that only seeks to take, nothing more is given," he said, gripping my arm again so we could keep walking. "From him that always seeks to give, nothing is withheld."

The chief stopped again, reached for his clothes and parted his deerskin cloak at the chest. The entire left half of his chest was pale as milk, a stark contrast to the deep cacao brown of the rest of his bosom. Taputu gestured to this, then to the white patches on his eyes.

"I was taught to only ask the Giver for good things - to find game or to be a better hunter - and to give back anything I received. When I became chief, I asked for the power to protect and care for my people, just as my fathers did before me. I was made wiser and stronger, both of which would benefit my people. But receiving these gifts left marks my skin. These remind me of the promise I made when I asked for them. I have not forgotten."

"That is why your people are loyal," I said softly. "They serve you because you serve them."

He nodded. "That is what the pirate captain will never understand."

"And how does one communicate with this Giver?" I asked, feeling I already knew the answer.

The chief re-fastened his cloak.

"Everyone has their ways. But the most common is that which is understood by most creatures. Through song."

I heard noises ahead and stopped, not sure if we were upon friends or foes. I motioned for Taputu to stay where he was and gently laid Kendan's limp – but breathing – form into his hands. I thought it might be a large animal, but as I listened harder it sounded more like a shovel burrowing into the earth. I drew my dagger and crept around a tree to looked into a small clearing. I shouted at the figure hunched in the center of it, so great was my surprise.