6.36 A Change of View

It’s been a long journey to the jungles where Makana’s great grandmother’s palace sat. This is one of many she’s built in her long tenure as queen. Makana marvels that she has been given such a gift!

Frogs trill a welcome hello as the calming breezes blow over the beautiful grounds. There’s even an area for tribal meetings that look like it’s set up for royalty not just a mere Creator.

“Creator Makana,” Salvius says, “I must caution you upon entering. What if a trap has been set? Let us survey the grounds first.”

Makana turns to the slave. Why does his voice make her knees shake? She should not be so attracted to one of her guards. After all these weeks of travel, she has gotten to know him better. His tribe had treated him abominably because he was born with blonde hair. His mother was accused of mating with someone outside her tribe, and she was cast out. He would have been killed but was saved by their shaman who whisked him in the middle of the night to their local slave hold. Because of his swift agility, he was chosen by Kandor to be a part of the Royal Army. But then Queen Hawika saw him and thought he’d be a great asset to Tribe Wahine.

Indeed, he is very strong and his mind is as sharp as a soldier’s sword. She already relies so much on his wise thinking.

Salvius adds, “Please, my lady. Allow me such a duty.”

Eyebrows raising, she counters, “How are you to guard me if you’re surveying the grounds? I have a Warrior as well as a Master Slave to do that.”

Makana can tell by Salvius’ look, he does not approve but he doesn’t say anything.

Hearing her rank, Kiko walks up. She wonders about this slave who is very impertinent sometimes.

“Newlin and I will be happy to secure the grounds,” Kiko says. Makana is so thankful to have such a strong warrior in Kiko. She feels very safe.

Salvius bows in deference to the Amazon.

After everyone settles into their rooms, Makana has a short meeting. Many changes have taken place on their travels. Her sister, Hoku, as well as Ina and Horus’ daughter, Britta, had their birthdays. They are teens now and wish to choose their duties for the tribe. Makana already knows Hoku’s wish as she dresses in white these days.

“Hoku, you are no longer a child. It is time for you to tell me the rank you wish to hold in this tribe. I do want to caution you that if the ranking is currently being held by a tribal sister, you may not be able to choose it.” Hoku in white signifies she wants to be shaman. Mist Mountain is a wonderful shaman. How could she toss her out of this position for her sister?

Hoku answers, “As you probably know, I wish to hold the shaman ranking. I have already spoken thus to Mist Mountain and she desires to take me on as an apprentice.”

Mist interjects, “Yes, dear Creator, I would love to teach Hoku. She has a spiritual gifting I have seen since her birth. As to my position, you very well know I am about to enter my elder years, and it is my desire to ultimately serve at the temple for the rest of my days. For a shaman, this is the ultimate spiritual destiny.”

“Very well. Thank you, Shaman Mist, for your generosity.” Makana turns to her sister. “Hoku, you may apprentice with Mist Mountain until you become young adult. Afterwards, I will usher you in as our new shaman.” Makana is very happy things have turned out thusly. Mist is like a grandmother to Makana. She has mixed emotions but knows Mist will be very blessed and happy at the temple.

Next, Britta Samai approaches Makana.

“My dearest Creator, I wish to be by Hoku’s side as Priestess. Tribe Wahine has never had a priestess but I wish to also care for a Worship companion. It would be my honor to seek out the perfect companion for you as well as the tribe.”

This shocks Makana as her mind whirs over this unusual request. Does Tribe Wahine need a priestess? Makana knows they are in desperate need of a Provider. The little ones are under the care of a slave and although Aley is sweet and very doting, tradition dictates an amazon must raise the children.

Before Makana can formulate a response, Scholar Tya blurts, “You do realize you may not take on a mate. Neither Amazon nor slave. You must submit yourself to the Maker only. This is your desire? Truly?”

Britta glares, thinking about how brutal her mother was killed in her sleep. “Our tribe is under a curse, Scholar Tya. I believe someone from this tribe should dedicate their life to pleasing the Maker and praying on behalf of all tribal members–both amazon and slave. Is this not something that has been missing for generations? It is without a doubt not a desire but a necessity, in my opinion.”


The loud siren of Sixam throbs in Hawika’s head. Her brother, Hagen, set up this emergency system generations ago, but has never used it in all seventy plus years she has been queen. Hawika is the only one who can hear it. In fact, no one knows about her brother who lives on the distant planet. Even her children don’t know about her brother or how she ascended the throne with the trickery of alien technology.

Her heart races, pounding in her chest. What must have happened to force this meeting? Hawika chats with her brother every month via the secret picture machine but they only discuss their lives–how his grown children and grandchildren are faring and what’s going on in her own life.

She has a strict policy of Hagen not using Sixam’s hoax’s again or interfering. Already her family has suffered enough from the curse that she knows she’s brought about by cheating death so many times.

“What is it, my brother?” Hawika says to the unit that hides behind the illusion of a mirror.

The mirror vanishes, replaced by a screen.

“We have reason to believe your life is in danger, sister,” Hagen’s worried voice echoes in the queen’s bedchamber.

“Yes, dear sister-in-law, please listen to what Hagen has to say.” In all these suns, Hawika never gets used to the alien form of Hagen’s wife, Xetrov.

Hagen’s life has been lengthened due to the same potion she uses to lengthen her own. Except there are no curses on Sixam. Only loving pleasantries as Hagen’s life is easy and his children and grandchildren are very happy and thriving. Oh how she wishes it was so with her own!

The queen retorts, “My life is always in danger, Hagen. We are at war. Surely you didn’t need to use the emergency signal for that.”

He shakes his head and holds up his hand. “Hawika, stop being stubborn. We have intelligence that you have been on surveillance by Mor’s daughter, Alena. She’s an assassin. The very assassin that took out most of Tribe Wahine. Our family! Please, allow us to use our vaporizor. It is very humane and no one will even know what happened.”

Hawika winces inside. “So, you wish to use more tricks then, Hagen? How do you think Makana’s tribe will fair if you keep interfering? The curse will be perpetuated.”

He shakes his head. “How many times do I have to tell you there is no curse, Hawika. That is in the state of mind of the culture. Please allow me to do this. I worry for you. Xetrov has probed the assassin’s mind. She is waiting until she finds a weakness in your defenses and then she will strike.”

Hawika stiffens at Hagen’s blasphemous words. No wonder the Maker is against them. “Then we will amp up our defenses. Thank you for your concern, Hagen, but I can assure you I have the best guards in all of the Amazon on high alert. I am in no need of your interference.”

Hagen puts his hand on his chin. “I do know you have the best amazons and slaves helping but that might not be enough. If Alena scales the walls, I will alert you again. Be on your guard.”

Hagen clicks offline and the mirror shimmers back into view.

Turning around, Hawika knows what must be done.

It is her destiny if she is to save her tribe.

It’s HAGEN! For those of you who are new to this story (and didn’t want to go ALL THE WAY BACK to gen 3,) but you’re curious about Hagen, Hawika’s brother, you can read here for a little insight: HAGEN’S CLOSE ENCOUNTER.

A huge shoutout to RABOOSKI for making Makana’s palace. It is breathtaking to say the least. Why not download it and check it out for yourself? Pretty crazy amazing and I’ll be getting a lot of use out of it for this tribe. HER MAJESTY’S PALACE

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Chapter 6.35 Creator Makana

The hour has come that Makana has prepared for all her life. The day when she becomes Creator of Tribe Wahine. But why is her belly filled with dread? Every move she makes, she is shadowed by two guards, slaves who have not uttered one word to her. It is so different from how she was raised when all slaves were a part of the family tribe, not only servants.

But this is a necessary evil, Queen Hawika tells her. And so duty falls to her in these troubled times.

Standing near the ceremonial gong as the ancient Tribe Wahine Creators have done before her, Queen Hawika proclaims, “Makana Wahine, daughter of Kalani Wahine, who is birthed from the royal Amazon empire lineage, come near.”

Shaking like a fallen leaf in the breeze, Makana obeys.

“It is with great honor I bequeath you, Creator of Tribe Wahine. May your reign be fruitful as well as joyous and may you be blessed by the Maker for many generations.”

Makana tries to calm her heart as she answers, “Thank you, my grace. I receive your blessing and hope to rise to the honor of being Creator of Tribe Wahine.”

“I have no doubt. You are filled with mana, much like I am. I know great things will come from you, my dearest great granddaughter. May the Maker shine his face upon you.”

The queen crushes Makana in a welcome hug. All the pain she’s suffered in the weeks before tumble through her. But she tries to squelch the tears. She will grieve her parents and friends forever but must be strong for her tribe

Only a few hours pass, just long enough for Makana to change out of her ceremonial robes, when her duty as Creator must be done. Newlin has asked to be heard. He wishes to be punished for his crimes against his family tribe. The queen told Makana about his desires earlier and felt as if it was up to Makana to give out the sentencing against him. Queen Hawika will support any decision.

For Makana, this is not a hard thing to think about. She’s already made up her mind.

“Uncle Newlin, please state your request,” Makana says.

“My grace, I humbly ask to be given a just sentence for my part in the horror that has befallen my beloved tribe. Death in the Pillar is too good for the likes of me, but it is the worst way to die and well deserved.”

Makana answers, “You are saying a man who saved my life, Kiko’s life, and the lives of the children of Tribe Wahine should waste away for days in the pillar? How is this a just reward?”

Newlin shakes his head. “I gave the perpetrators easy access to the Creator’s chambers as well as planned the event. Even though I had a change of heart once I arrived, that does not make up for all the crimes committed. It is my deepest desire to pay for such atrocities. Creator, please, help my guilt to be assuaged.”

Makana answers, “Although you planned the dastardly event, you were under the influence of your witch mother and not yourself. Furthermore, you were cast out of our tribe egregiously. If I’d been creator, that would have never happened. No, Uncle Newlin, I will not grant your request. In fact, I am appointing you as Master Slave of Tribe Wahine.”

“W-What did you s-say?” Newlin asks, eyes widening.

“With your powerful mana, I welcome your faithful care and duty in wrangling all the new slaves we’ve received. You are well fit for the job as well as a tribal son. I do not want you to think on the events of the past. I have exonerated you. The way for you to make up for any ills that have occured is to show this tribe your love. Will you do me the honor of agreeing to the position of Master Slave?”

Blinking, Newlin can hardly find his voice. “Y-Yes, my creator. I will give this tribe my best. Th-Thank you.”


Makana is very grateful to her new Gatherer, Simna Altair, who had a very small tribe of her own and gave it up to join Tribe Wahine. She has brought over a woman she knows well from another tribe who is very talented in the arts who will make a wonderful Scholar.

“It is with much honor I wish to introduce to you, Tya Mashal of Tribe Kane.”

Makana is pleased to have this new tribal sister. “She is very pretty and she looks very creative indeed.”

“I can assure you she is,” Simna says, nodding.

Tya bows then greets her new leader. “Hello, Creator Makana. It is my very special honor to offer my services to your tribe. I am a painter, craftsman, writer as well as muscian. May I extend my condolences to your sudden loss as well?”

Makana smiles. “I am so happy to usher you into our tribe as Scholar. You sound very qualified indeed. We haven’t had a Scholar in our midst since before my mother’s time.”

“Then it is my pleasure to do your Creator’s portrait, if I may be so bold to offer, my grace.”

Flattered at the request, Makana says, “Of course. But let me change into a better outfit.”

After Makana slips into a more tribal uniform, Tya goes to work, painting Makana’s official Creator’s portrait.

And once Makana’s back starts hurting as the sun sets in the growing hours, Tya is finally finished. “Is it to your liking, my lady?” Tya asks.

“It is breathtaking, Tya. Thank you so much for your hard work! I will proudly display this beside my mother’s.”

Then one of the slaves who hasn’t spoken a word in the weeks of his guard exclaims, “My… what a fetching creature you are, Creator Makana. But the portrait does not do you justice. You are far more beautiful in person.”

A sudden pang tickles Makana’s insides at these lovely compliments. “Why thank you…Salvius, is it?”

His crystal blue eyes bore into Makana’s setting her face on fire. “Yes, that is my name, my lady.”

The slave behind him, Aenor, snorts but doesn’t say anything.

The two bow automatically as is customary when speaking to a creator. Makana is not used to this protocol.

Taking in their beauty, Makana wishes to know both of these handsome men better. But she has so much to do with setting up her tribe that pleasantries and talking in the shade of the sun will have to wait.

Since Makana has many slaves and a Gatherer, Scholar, as well as Warrior in Kiko (who is on the mend and should be at her post very soon,) it is time to say farewell to her grandparents. Queen Hawika has gifted Tribe Wahine with a palace and the tribe must relocate to the jungles. The queen believes it will provide much needed protection from their enemies. The journey will take her grandparents away from their duties to the queen and so they must leave.

“I’m afraid it is time to say good-bye, my darling granddaughter but know you are always on our minds and in our prayers,” Ysa says.

Makana answers, “It is with heavy heart I bid you farewell. Please do not be strangers. Will you visit me in my new home very soon?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Aulani says, smiling. “We will come as soon as it is safe for us to do so.”

Makana pulls him into a hearty hug. She doesn’t let go because when she does, it is as if she’s all alone with only herself to make the decisions.

Although she has a healthy tribe now, they are mostly strangers to her. She is thankful to have her uncle by her side though.


Alena does not wish to do this grisly duty. Cutting off the head of her grandmother, Hawika Wahine, will be no small feat.

But what choice does she have?

Going back to her mother without it is a death sentence and she is a wanted woman, no doubt she’ll be killed on sight if she goes into any village. Word of her treachery against Tribe Wahine is already notorious. She’s seen the notices on trees and poles everywhere she’s gone. So much so, she’s had to live in the forest, foraging for her own food. Skilled enough to do this, it is wearing on her.

Her mother has retreated to Tribe Hanalani for protection. They know Newlin has given up the whereabouts of her mother’s compound.

And now the castle walls are before her. If only they weren’t so heavily guarded. Alena’s only choice is to somehow scale them without breaking her neck. And in the cover of darkness.

Taking in a deep breath, Alena curses herself for her own weakness. If she is able to do this thing and not get caught, she will throw in her gauntlet for the Queen’s Quest and defeat any Amazon who tries to go against her.

Yes. This will be worth it.

She will succeed or die.

Thank you to Damaro for giving me the handsome Aenor and haswh for the beautiful Salvius…they will serve their creator well, I have no doubt. 😍

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6.34 New Directions

A week passes and Makana walks around the compound like a zombie. She still can’t wrap her head around the fact that her parents and her tribal friends are gone.

When suddenly, she looks up and sees her grandparents. Heart melting, she rushes over to them and holds them like she’s dangling from a rope thrown over a cliff.

It’d been suns since she’d seen them. Her grandmother, Ysa Wahine, is the queen’s Explorer. Word went out to them and they traveled many miles to come to their daughter’s wake at the temple.

Her grandfather, Aulani, says, “We are with you, dearest Makana, and will not leave until you do not need us anymore.”

It is like a warm blanket having them here. “Thank you, Grandfather. That is a comfort.”

“Be prepared. The queen is coming behind us. She will wish to speak to you.”

Knots form in Makana’s stomach. Although the queen is her great grandmother, she is also a very powerful woman. Makana doesn’t want to disappoint her. She is not ready to see her.

As her grandfather warned, the great Hawika Wahine stands before Makana with her personal guard.

It is nice to see Kandor, her old tribal mate, again, but as he is on duty, he doesn’t look at her. Queen Hawika is ancient–nearly ninety suns old, but she looks younger than her son, Aulani. This is because she is the legendary Firestorm–a queen who rebirths once she grows old. The cycle will never end. She will be the everlasting ruler. And because of this, it gives Makana shivers.

“Makana,” the queen says in a commanding voice, making the girl jump. “It is with a heavy heart I am here under these circumstances. Please. Let us visit in one of your sitting rooms. I have much to say.”

Makana barely hears a word the queen is saying. Why is this happening? Makana doesn’t wish to be the new Creator. She is still only a teenager.

“And so, once the wake is over, I will induct you in as Tribe Wahine’s Creator. We have many enemies, dearest one. Therefore, I am giving you two of my fiercest slaves to watch over you day and night.”

Makana looks behind the queen’s guard at two very strong looking slaves. The taller one is named Aenor and the other Salvius. Both were picked by the queen herself to serve Makana.

“Thank you, great grandmother,” Makana says, overwhelmed by the queen’s kindness.

“Oh, dear one, I am so sorry you must grow up too soon. I assure you I am sending a covert group of hunters to take care of those who did this. Please do not fear. Judgement is coming for them.”

The thing Makana most dreads in her whole life is visiting the Temple of Urns. It is for Creators only. Makana knows the urn’s place for Queen Firestorm will always sit empty, but she never thought she’d come here for her mother before her grandmother, Ysa.

The queen’s guard watches near the Tribe Wahine banner. This section is for their creators’ remains. Only close relatives are allowed to grieve on temple grounds. No other tribal mates are permitted. This means Makana, her sister, Hoku, her grandfather, Aulani, her grandmother, Ysa, and her great-grandmother, Hawika, attend.

Makana views the first two urns–Creator Abra, who started Tribe Wahine, and her daughter, Buffy–both very great Creators who grew the tribe to tremendous heights back in ancient days.


Hawika is aghast at seeing her own very empty place where her urn should rest.

She knows it is her curse that has befallen her tribe. She outwitted death all of these years. The Grim Reaper always makes payment. She was told this many suns ago. Why didn’t she listen? She thought the ten lives she took at the Queen’s Quest would be enough but it is apparent she was gravely mistaken. And now, poor Makana, must suffer for Hawika’s sins.

They look on at Kalani’s urn–many suns too soon for this.

It sparkles in the morning light.

Makana will shed tears for many more suns. She will never forgive those who did this to her tribe. She will seek vengeance herself. She vows this before her mother’s ashes.


It is with heightened trepidation that Alena makes her way back to her mother.

If this meeting would pass, Alena would wish it so, but…she must own up to her own folly.

Her mother is cooking up a new potion. She wonders what it is. It smells…rancid.

Then her mother looks up and her gaze grips Alena’s heart painfully.

“You,” she hisses. “How dare you show up without your brothers. Tell me you didn’t leave without killing all of them.”

But words don’t come to Alena’s lips. How can she confess her mistakes? She didn’t have the heart to kill the babes. She is not a worthy assassin.

Her mother senses the despicable answer. She narrows her eyes. “They are alive? And your brothers are dead?”

“I…I killed most of them,” Alena stammers.”Creator Kalani and her mate are dead. I would have killed them all but…their Warrior was too strong and…Newlin, he…” These excuses sound weak even to Alena’s ears.

“And you didn’t kill Newlin?” she asks as if it is an easy thing to kill a brother. Her own child.

Alena is weak. She isn’t like her mother. And although Newlin thought he’d strangled her, even he didn’t try his best because of their sibling bond. “No, Mother, he snuck up on me and with his mana…”

Mor cuts her off, “I do not want to see you again until you hand me the queen’s head. Or I will hunt you down myself and make you pay for your brothers’ lives. Now go.”

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6.33 Aftermath

It feels as if this night will never end. The reality of her parents and her friends deaths are too much to comprehend. Add that to seeing her little sister in pain, Makana is beyond distraught.

At least little Britta is there to comfort Hoku. The two are inseparable. Makana is thankful they broke the rules and left the compound on a frog fishing errand.

And when the two break down crying, Makana’s sadness deepens. Britta lost her mother, too.

Why did this have to happen? Tribe Wahine has always been peaceful.

Her uncle had explained his part in this tragedy. His evil mother, Mor, and his sister, Alena, were mostly to blame. If it wasn’t for him, all her tribe would be gone but he valiantly saved those he could and for that, she will forgive him. But Makana will stop at nothing to see that witch Mor Rigan and her daughter, Alena, drown in the waters of the Pit of Death. A death too good for either of them. Maybe Makana will seek vengeance of her own. And her uncle will help her. He owes her this.


Mist hands Newlin a vial of medicine to give to Kiko. She must run to the tribe across the river for help. They need more stores of herbs and potions if she is to save Kiko. The woman is near death and there’s no time to lose.

Newlin shakes Kiko hoping to rouse her enough so she can drink the green liquid.

“Open up, my love,” he coaxes, pulling on her lips. How he’d missed her in the suns of his absence. Too bad it is almost by his hand that she may lose her life. He will never forgive himself for this.

Shaking her head gently, he hopes she will awaken. “Come on, honey, you must take this to get better.”

Eyes slowly opening, Kiko whispers, “Newlin? Is that you?”

“Yes, sweetheart. I’m here. For how long, I do not know, but…you must get better, my love. I won’t leave you until you are recovered.”

She nods then falls back to sleep–her chest breathing slowly up and down.

Newlin prays to the Maker that she will get stronger. He will drown himself in the Pit of Death if she is taken by the Grim Reaper.

“Newlin,” Kiko says hoarsely, “do not worry. My mana is strong.” She rubs his arm then drifts back into the clouds of slumber.

Her mana is strong, this is true.

But mana cannot save a wounded person who has lost as much blood as Kiko has. It will take a miracle for her recovery. Newlin worries that his sister might return, too. They are like sitting ducks. With only him to guard, the tribe is seriously at risk. They must flee to another tribe. He will speak to Makana about this.


Aley’s world is turned upsidedown. His Creator, the slave Runoi, and most of the women are gone from this world. And he was sleeping instead of guarding like a proper slave should be doing. If only he were stronger!

And now with no Provider, the children are without a caretaker. Aley checks on his baby girl Xenia who is sleeping soundly as if there are no troubles in the world. He moves next to the children’s room.

All seems as it should be.

Aley says a blessing over each child. Slave or no, they deserve better. The tribe is cursed. That is apparent. But the Maker did give Aley a child. A miracle. Maybe he would lift the curse from these babes as well.

First he whispers over Dak, Newlin’s son, “You will become a great Master Slave and make up for your father’s crimes.”

Kissing little Ale, he whispers, “You will be sought after by many tribes and woo the hearts of a multitude of Amazons.”

Lastly, he tucks the covers around Alika’s tiny body. “And you will sire beautiful children and be strong just like your father was–a great asset to Tribe Wahine.”

Tears prick Aley’s eyes. He is determined to do his best for his tribe. He will not fail his new Creator.


Newlin is alerted by strangers trespassing on Tribe Wahine’s land. A woman with kind eyes bows her head and says, “Please, slave, may we have a word with your Creator?”

Perturbed, Newlin answers, “My tribe is under duress, my lady. If you please, we are not in the market to buy anything. Now if you don’t mind, please see yourself off our land.”

Not moving, the woman says, “Your Shaman, Mist Mountain, came to us asking for help. We are here to protect you. I am Creator Simna Altair. My slaves are yours. Please use them. There are none better to guard in all the Amazon. May I present Korinnos the Wanderer?”

She motions to a man who looks as if he is in deep contemplation. An older man. What could he do for Tribe Wahine? Is this woman trying to foist her low hanging fruit on the tribe? Newlin is about to implore her to leave when she points to the other man.

“And this is Grogan the Beastmaster. His two cats are fearsome allies,” the woman explains. “You need not worry about another attack. They will patrol your grounds faithfully.”


Makana seeks after the strangers. Is it time already to meet with other tribes? She’s not even the Creator. Not yet. She has to be sworn in. But who will lead the tribe? All the women are dead except for Mist and Kiko. But Kiko is badly wounded and she needs Mist to tend to her.

Makana feels like screaming, crying out all her pain. She wants time to mourn her loss. She’s not ready to become the leader of Tribe Wahine.

But the people don’t seem to want to leave. Masking her pain, Makana says, “I am the Creator Heiress, Makana Wahine. I kindly ask you to leave at once. Our tribe is not receiving guests.”

“Creator Heiress, I beg your pardon, but we’re here to help. I am Creator Simna Altair of Tribe Safron. We mourn your loss with you.

“Please receive my two slaves as a sympathy gift.” She motions to the men behind her. One very handsome and one who looks very strong.

“I also will help you with any duties you might require. Before the passing of our Creator I was the Gatherer. She birthed no daughters so the Creatorship fell to me. Please, my lady, we are at your disposal for we love your great grandmother, Queen Firestorm, and wish to be of service to her family.”

Then the three of them bow to her.

Makana is blown away at such kindness. How could she refuse such gifts?

Before the sun arose on that awful night, Makana welcomes three strangers whom she will soon call fellow mates of Tribe Wahine.

Thank you to Mrs. Racooney for supplying the very handsome Korinnos the Wanderer for Makana. He will be an asset to the tribe! 😏

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6.32 Tragedy

Warning: violence, blood

Everything is happening so fast. One moment Makana is asleep, the next she’s on the ground looking at her murderer. There is no way out. She’s doomed. Oh why does the Maker hate Tribe Wahine? The curse that has wound its way through generations is upon them. This is it.

The assailant raises her arm for the death blow but Makana isn’t ready. “No!” she cries.

But the strike doesn’t come. Makana hears gagging and some muffled words. Who is her savior?

“It’s no use in struggling, sister. Your mana is weaker than mine, and I’ve got you in my death grip.”

Makana recognizes that voice but is so disoriented. She cannot see his face.


Newlin knew his folly once he stepped a boot on Tribe Wahine soil. He was going to murder the tribe. He had vengeance in his heart. Hadn’t the tribe deserved this when they cast out his mother? And all his siblings as well as him? But staying with Tribe Rigan clouded his judgement. And once he’d arrived at the Wahine compound, he knew which Tribe was good and which should be taken out.

When he approached the children’s quarters he’d heard Kalani’s screams. His sister moved swiftly. Damn it, he couldn’t save her. He would have her blood on his hands for all eternity. He decided he would not survive even if he managed to save most of them. He would make sure he paid for his treason.

His brother, Finn was supposed to wait on Newlin before he slayed any of the babes for fear they might wake up the others.

But instead, Finn raised his knife on the first one and Newlin had to move quickly to stop him.

Sliently, Newlin used the power of his mana to subdue his brother.

Then he slashed his neck before Finn knew what hit him.

And before Finn’s body grew cold, Newlin was shocked to see whose baby was about to be taken.

It was a boy who looked a lot like him. He knew this was his son.

“Don’t worry, little one,” Newlin whispered, bringing up the covers, “I will not allow anyone to hurt you.”

And now he holds Makana’s hands, heart beating in his chest. She has grown into a woman in the suns since he lived here. “I’m very sorry, Makana. I wish I could’ve done more to save everyone.”

“Newlin?” Makana is so shocked to see him. Mixed feelings of gratefulness and confusion pepper her. Her uncle is wearing the same assassin’s robes of the woman who was about to kill her. Why is he here?

And then shouts ring out on the west side. It sounds like Kiko!

Instantly, Newlin rushes away and she follows.

Newlin knows that voice. It is his love. How foolish is he to bring his siblings here on a death hunt. He would never forgive himself.

Makana is shocked to find Kiko–wounded and bleeding.

It looks as if she killed the assassin. She did her job well. But what of her? All the blood rushes out of Makana’s head when she surveys her wounds. Why is this happening?

Newlin races to her side. “Get your healer. Now, Makana!”


As the healer, Mist Mountain, is taking care of Kiko, Newlin wanders through the compound surveying the destruction. His sister moved swiftly. And she’d escaped. When he walked back to the Creator’s bedroom, he noticed Alena had vanished.

He wonders if she kept up her killing spree, but the babies as well as the one slave who had been asleep were unharmed. Unfortunately, Alena had killed all the women who slept near the Creator’s quarters–Elue, Ina, and Lillit. Thankfully, Mist’s quarters were in the basement, so she made it out alive.

And when Newlin arrives in Kalani’s bedroom, his stomach clenches.

Kalani, his sister and Creator, is dead upon the bed, blood oozing from her chest. And Runoi, her mate, has his neck slashed, no doubt he tried to fend off Alena. But he was no match for her.

In defense of Tribe Wahine, Kanui fought valiantly, Newlin could tell, since the evil Simon LeBeoff’s still body lay in the hallway. But unfortunately, Kanui suffered too many wounds and there was nothing Newlin could do to save him.

Fresh pangs of guilt and sorrow riddles through him. He will miss his old friend.

Although they didn’t see eye to eye most of the time, at the very end, Kanui was good to him.


Makana walks through her tribe’s compound in a haze. Is this not just a horrible nightmare? Makana wishes she could wake up. Her insides are screaming and she wants to throw up.

Her uncle would not allow her to see her mother’s or her father’s bodies. But he assured her they were gone to the Maker. She shudders.

No more will she ever see her father’s rich smiles and hear his silly jokes or hearty laughter.

How she will miss their talks even if he is being stubborn. Oh that she would see her parents even quarrel again!

How comforted she was as a child. They both saw to her every need.

And she will never see her father’s talented dancing.

Nor hear the laughter of her tribe at parties.

There will be no more laughter in Tribe Wahine.

Her parents loved each other more than any couple she had ever witnessed.

Her mother only had eyes for her father–a rarity in her culture.

Tears stream down Makana’s cheeks.

Her mother! The sickness grabs at her with this sinking reality.

The best Creator Tribe Wahine has ever seen is gone. How could the Maker take her away from them? She ruled with beauty, grace, and justice. All looked to her and felt secure.

Now all is lost.

Chapter 6.31 Wahine War

Warning: Violence, blood

Shrill cries coming from the Creator’s bedroom penetrate Kanui’s gut. Without hesitation, he dashes over the wooden walkway, hoping he isn’t too late to protect Kalani.

But when he arrives at her doorway, a sinister specter smirks at him.

The evil Simon LeBeoff is back. The man raises his sword.

Adrenaline flowing, Kanui thrusts his sword at the invader with all his strength to strike him down.


It is as Kiko worried. She hears cries coming from the Creator’s bedroom. She must hurry to save her. Oh if only she wasn’t on the other side of the compound! Kiko could only hope Kanui could get there first.

But then a haunting whoosh and a sudden pain in her shoulder stops her in her tracks. To her horror, a large arrow has penetrated her body. She gasps.

Looking up, she sees her attacker. It is as she suspected. Tribe Wahine is under full on attack. Kiko panics thinking about Kanui and what he might be facing . But she will do her best to take down this intruder.

“Who are you?” she shouts hoping to stall another attack of arrows.

“You do not need to know who I am except for your terminator.” The man’s voice is somewhat familiar. It’s as if she’s heard it before.

“You realize you will die today for I can sense your mana is weak and mine is strong.”

“Mana or no, I have a large weapon and you only brandish a sword. Who will be the victor here? You know it will be I.”

Concentrating, building up her mana, Kiko uses all her strength to tear out the shaft.

The use of her mana allows her to bear the pain. She yells, “You will fall today, stupid slave. I will not allow you to attack my tribe and get away with it!”

“My mighty arrow will pierce your heart!” the invader cries, taking aim.

But Kiko is too swift. She knocks the arrow away with her sword and launches her body high in the air. “Aiyyyyyy!” she cries.

Their blades clash, sending thunderous echoes throughout the compound.


All is going according to plan. Finn is beside himself with pride that his tribe is about to annihilate the hated Tribe Wahine. And it’s all due to his brother’s wise battle strategy. Maybe Finn misjudged him after all. Newlin not only has the most mana he’s ever witnessed in a person, but he is wicked smart–someone Finn has grown to admire. He’d follow Newlin anywhere. After this job is done, Finn decides to tell his brother how much he looks up to him. Bury the hatchet and hopefully, they’ll become friends.

The cries from the Creator’s bedroom tells Finn that Kalani Wahine was just disposed of by their sister. And now, Newlin signals for Finn to go to the children’s bedroom and wait on him. Newlin is supposed to slip to the women’s quarters, take out any who were sleeping then come back to finish off the rest with Finn at his side.

Seeing the sleeping children sends rage through Finn. These boys–slaves–are treated like princes. But isn’t that unfair? Finn and his brothers are the real princes for their father is none other than Aulani Wahine–Queen Hawika’s son. Their birthright was snatched from them.

Maybe Finn would wipe out these imposters with his own hand. Retribution for the wrongs done to him and his family.


Unholy shrieks wake Makana as she bolts upright in bed.

Heart pounding painfully, dread almost consumes her. Tribe Wahine is under attack. Someone has hurt her mother!

Grabbing her sword and dashing downstairs, she spies an invader rushing toward the slave hold.

Makana’s trained for this moment. Kanui is a talented master. With all the mana within her, Makana’s feet flit faster and faster until she’s caught up with the intruder.

Flying through the air, Makana uses her feet to knock her down, but the assassin whips her body around to block the move.

And instead of Makana thrusting the blade over the invader’s head, the woman uses great strength and pulls her down to the ground.

Makana is helpless to stop her.

In almost a flash, Makana is staring into eyes filled with hatred. Her blade grazes Makana’s neck in threat.

Out of breath, Makana says, “What do you want? Why are you here?”

Searching Makana’s face, the invader says, “Interesting Newlin didn’t mention a Creator Heiress for it’s obvious to me that you are the daughter of the people I’ve just slain.”

Those words pierce Makana painfully. Mother? Father? No, it can’t be, she thinks. Blinking, Makana proclaims, “Stop this madness now. You will be found out and the queen will have your head on a stake.”

“Why should I care what a dead queen thinks? I will be queen soon. I will gain the position by my own hand.”

Makana desperately tries to whip up another way to stall. Where is Kanui? Or Kiko? Are they dead, too?

The evil woman says nothing more and Makana sees her life is about to end.

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6.30 Night of Reckoning

Hoku’s feet dangle off the side of the jungle gym as the cool evening air slips over her skin. She can smell rain in the air and it makes her spine tingle. “Want to find frogs with me, Britta? The glowing ones come out when the stars twinkle.”

“But won’t we get into trouble? We aren’t supposed to leave the compound after dark,” the little girl counters.

“If we leave now, no one will notice. All anyone cares about are the toddlers. I’ve snuck out for the past three nights!”

Although her insides tell her not to, Britta nods and says, “Let’s go.”


Chores done, Aley spots the wishing well, glimmering at him.

Why has no one used this powerful tool?

Probably because if the well is angered, curses are spewed rather than blessings. And so it sits collecting dust, ivy, and mildew.

Aley believes this is a shame.

He cannot help himself. Tossing a coin into its depths, he wishes with all his might that he would have a child.

A daughter.

One who would be an asset to his Creator as the tribe seems to be dwindling, swallowed up by Tribal sons.

To his amazement, he’s showered with green and pink sparkles.

A sign!

Could his eyes be deceiving him?

The well speaks in a thunderous voice, “Go to the nursery, slave. Your wish has been granted.”

Heart squeezing, Aley races to the nursery. Sure enough, a beautiful babe with his coloring, cries in the bassinet.

The love he feels for the child overwhelms him. “I will call you, Xenia, which means ‘a gift’. For you are a true gift of all of Tribe Wahine and will bless everyone with your beauty, skill, and intelligence.”


The moon rises as the crickets trill in the shadows. Kiko meets with Kanui to receive her orders for the night.

“Have you checked the perimeter?” Kanui asks.

“Yes. All is well, Master Slave.”

“Good. Then take your place by the west entrance. I have word that battle has begun near the palace and we are on high alert.”

The thought of war reaching the queen sends fear crushing Kiko’s heart. Why did some amazons not want equality for all? How could they be so selfish? And now, it has come to this. Woman fighting woman. Weren’t the amazons of old put in charge because women didn’t believe in war?

“Kiko…is something troubling you?” Kanui says, cocking his head.

“I am saddened for all of us, Kanui. These are unsettling times. What if the war comes to us? We are but two guards. The odds would be against us.”

Kanui waves his hands. “This is a silly fear, Kiko. What would the rebels have to gain by fighting us? As you say, we are a weakened tribe. And so far away from the palace. It would be like stomping on a fly when swarming bees are attacking. Do not worry, my tribal sister.”

Kiko nods then gives a curt bow. Running to her post, she surveys the perimeter. Not a leaf is out of place.

Kanui is right. There is nothing to fear. But she will be ready just in case.


Runoi bounces Alika over his head as the child spills out giggles.

How Runoi loves the babies. If Kalani will allow it, he desperately wants another child. “I will woo her tonight for I know she cannot say no to me. Not when such beauty and manly vigor is before her, right little Alika?”

But then a waft of horrific stench overpowers him. Runoi puts the toddler down and groans.

“What is that smell, my love?” Kalani asks, walking behind him.

“It seems that Alika is doing what he knows best. Pooping.”

“You know how to fix that, don’t you, darling?”

“Sadly, yes, but I was hoping my dear, sweet, enchanting, lovely, rosy queen might help me? No? Ah, well…best get to it then.”

Bending down, Runoi asks, “Why must you fill your diapers several times a day, little man? You’re a baby not a horse.”

Once he pulls the offensive diaper off, Runoi quickly disposes of it. “Why must it reek like a pteradactyl monster died in there? Alika, you have achieved the worst stench award out of all the babies.”

After Runoi hands Alika off to Eila to put to bed, both he and his lovely queen retire from the day. It is his last night before he travels to the Royal Slave Army. And although he is happy to be able to fulfill his duty, he also will miss his dear sweet love most of all.

Gingerly caressing her hair, Runoi gives Kalani a tender kiss.

“I love you, Runoi. Don’t ever forget about me after you leave.”

“My rosy queen, I could no more forget you than I could forget about the sun or the moon or stars. You are my everything. I will come back to you. Make no mistake.”

Runoi showers Kalani in kisses as tears stream down her face.


It is in the middle of the night. All are asleep except for the two sentries in which her brothers should have disposed of by now. How horribly inept this tribe is. The Creator’s bedroom is without proper windows. No locks. Just open air wafting in as the palm fronds clatter in the breeze.

How stupid.

And to think this is the tribe in which she would have been born.

Mixed feelings of disgust and and hope swirl within her.

It will be MY birthright. I will become the queen of the Amazons. This first act will secure my place. First I kill the Creator and then the Creator Heiress who also sleeps without windows.

This is all too easy.

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Chapter 6.29 Preparations

Kalani thinks on Makana’s words for a few days. But her insides scream for Runoi not to leave.

Unfortunately, Makana is right. She will lose Runoi’s respect if she doesn’t allow him this wish. For better or worse, she will grant his request.

Kalani strolls up to her mate. “Runoi, are you busy right now? I’d like to speak to you.”

“I am not busy,” Runoi says in a clipped tone.

“I think you’re going to like what I have to say. Please, baby, do not continue with this anger.”

Softening, Runoi says, “I am not angry, my rosy queen. What is it you wish from me? I’ll do whatever you like as is my duty to our tribe.”

Taking Runoi by the hand, Kalani leads her mate to their bedroom. Candles lit, Kalani hopes the ambiance will settle him as well as her.

“I have given the matter much thought, Runoi, and I believe you may join the Royal Slave Army and fight for my grandmother. You are right. All slaves must battle these rebels or all will be lost.”

Eyebrows raising, Runoi sputters, “R-Really? I never thought you’d change your mind so quickly. What happened to entice you to such a thought? I do not want to go if you really don’t want me to, my beautiful precious flower. I am truly sorry for fighting with you about it.”

Kalani shrugs. “Makana talked it over with me. You see, if I don’t allow you to have your way then I’m no better than the Amazons we’re fighting against. Truly. You are within your rights to go, my love. I will not bar you from it.”

Cocking his head, Runoi counters, “Will you not miss me then? No crying fits of anger. No wailing that you won’t have your beautiful handsome mate warming your bed? I don’t know how to take this change of mind.”

“Runoi…are you toying with me? Because I truly am unhappy about this decision. If anything happened to you, I would die inside, I love you so much.”

A great smile sweeps over Runoi’s features. “Of course not…I’m ridiculously joyous that you believe in me and I promise I’ll not die in battle. Mostly, I’ll probably man the fires and cook potato stew for the ranks. I’m sure that’s all Kandor will allow me anyway. Thank you, my rosy queen, for granting me this request!”

Kalani arches an eyebrow. “You know you’ll have to pay me dearly for such a request.”

Runoi draws nearer to Kalani’s face. “And YOU know I’m adept at any pleasurable payment you might require. I just hope you’re up for it, my darling.”

“I’m always up for it,” Kalani whispers, kissing her love with all the passion she can give.


The following morning, Kalani is basking in the afterglow of the previous night as Runoi meticulously rubs the aching tension out of her muscles. “Oh, Runoi, that feels so good. You’re spoiling me. If you don’t watch it, I may retract my previous decision.”

“And I will abide by that decision, my lovely adoration, even if you command me to stay here and rub oil all over your stunning body, it would be my most absolute pleasure.”

Kalani giggles. “You’re being way too tempting, my love. Maybe we need to stay here just a little longer?”

Runoi knows Kalani is teasing but the thought of leaving her and what might happen in the unforseen future fills him with dread. But he accepts what he must do. Making a serious face, Runoi says, “It is with admiration that I’m even allowed to be your mate. Please forgive me of this duty for if it wasn’t so imperative, I wouldn’t step one sandalfoot outside of Tribe Wahine.”

“I know, baby. And I want you to know that I truly am proud of your decision. I have no doubt the Maker will bring you back to me unharmed.”


Mist smiles at the decision Kalani has made.

“What do you think, Kiko? We are in desperate need of your talents and besides, I believe the old ways are wrong with these devastating consequences to one sin done at a young age. With such turmoil at hand, Queen Hawika could hardly blame me in this decision.” Kalani came to this idea as they will be down to only two slaves–Kanui and Alethualpa. With Runoi about to leave, the tribe needs more people to guard them.

Kiko cannot believe what she is hearing. Could the Maker’s face finally be shining upon her? Reestablished into the tribe without a curse dooming her every move? Yes! “With every respect imaginable, Creator, I am without words at your kindness to me.”

“Then it is settled. You will be working with Kanui and guarding our tribe at once as our official Warrior.”

Elation fills Kiko. She wants to jump up and shout to the highest mountaintop! “Thank you, my Creator. I will do my best to fulfill this honor.”

As Makana does every morning, she’s working on her mana so she may be a strong Creator one day. The times she grows up in are very difficult and unstable. She does not know when she may be expected to join in the war against the rebels.

The rain pitter patters behind Kiko, making her even more ready for her workout. “I am here to train with you, Master Kanui,” Kiko says, almost embarrassed that she’s had to take a step back these past two years since her love, Newlin, was expelled.

“I’m well pleased to welcome you, Lady Kiko. Come. Let us see what your mana is made of today.”

Instantly, Kiko goes to work on the sparring machine, adeptly dodging and weaving with the grace of a deer.

Kanui is pleased to have help from such a talented Amazon in guarding the tribe.


Newlin outlines the plan on infiltrating and taking out every member of Tribe Wahine.

While it sounds precise, Alena is unsure she can trust her brother. “What makes you think we know you’ll do your part in this? After all, these people raised you.”

Newlin answers, “You forget, sister, that I ran away, wanting to be a part of this tribe. All ties were broken once I left. You can be assured, I probably hate them more than you do. I was the lowest of the lows in their eyes. Cursed by my birth mother to them. I never could fit in. Nay…you can trust me in this. It will give me glee to watch their blood spill.”

Mor warms her hand by the crackling fire. “Alena…we’ve talked about this. Newlin has the most mana of all of you put together. And he knows his way around the compound. Stop resisting and listen to him.”

“But he’s going to slay the children? Really? I highly doubt that.”

“It is not only I who will do this but I’ll have Finn to help, if that will make you feel better. We will infiltrate the women’s compound with the children as one sector while Simon LeBeouff and Vance will take out the guards. You, sister, will have the honor of killing the Creator.”

“And let me tell you, Alena,” Finn growls, “I will watch him kill at least two babes or it will be his head that will pay.”

Alena almost snorts thinking about how Mother had to fix Finn’s broken jaw with magic–due to Newlin’s mana induced punch, but she says nothing. If Newlin double crosses them, she’ll take him out herself with an arrow. She’s a reknown marksman. Newlin won’t even see it coming. But her mother seems to trust him and she does have her Luminous that can peer into hearts. If his was divided, she’d know it.

Simon LeBeouff stands. “I remember when you were a little boy, I left you to die in the Pillar of Punishment. How can I trust you won’t seek revenge on me?”

“I remember that day and I was frightened, but since have grown to understand you suffered pain at the hands of the tribe. I do not harbor any animosity toward you. I hope to call you ally and friend once this duty is done.”

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Chapter 6.28 Revenge

“Lay one hand on me, brother, and you will pay.” Finn runs up, hands clenched.

“Out of drugs today, Finn. Too bad,” Newlin retorts.

Mana power surging, his fist smashes into Finn’s jaw, bone making a painful snap.

“Don’t let him get away with that, Finn! Kick him!” Vance yells.

But it’s too late, Newlin throws Finn to the ground.

And punches him until he’s silent.

Breathing hard, Newlin watches as Finn groans and writhes in pain.

Newlin growls, “I expect you to do as I say, Finn. You are weak and should know your place. If you EVER drug me again, I will kill you.”

Vance claps then stretches his arms out. “Good one, brother! I applaud your talents! Finn deserved that. It wasn’t my idea to drug you and for that, I’m truly sorry.”

“I don’t know what is worse. The one who plots or the weakling who follows it. You disgust me.”

“I am a follower, Newlin. So be it. But now I’m yours. Is that such a crime? To follow those who are strong?”

Newlin smirks. “For you, dear brother, it is. You decided to follow the wrong man at the wrong time. And you shall pay.”

Moving like a deadly viper, Newlin pounces on Vance, hitting him until he flops to the ground.

“I submit to you, brother! Please stop!” Vance’s pleas die on deaf ears. Newlin will not stop until his message is heard loud and clear.

Pummeling Vance with blows, Newlin says, “Oh now you want me to stop. I’ll do as I please and will not hear anything to the contrary. You had this coming.”

Vance tries to defend himself, but the power in Newlin’s fists are too much.

When Newlin is satisfied, he stands, surveying his handiwork.

Emotion pierces him. “I wanted to be your brother. Your friend. And you gave me nothing but hatred. If all you respond to is anger, so be it. But I won’t be toyed with. I am your Master Slave. You will call me sir and do as I say from now on.”


Makana’s father’s words echo in her soul as the days progress. What should she do? A part of her thinks she should stay out of it. Her mother, after all, knows best. She is the Creator! But then Runoi’s sad face and his desire to fight for what he believes in also speaks volumes. Men should have the right to fight for this important cause.

Makana finally decides she must have a meeting with her mother.

“Now what is on your mind, my darling daughter. We haven’t chatted like this in a long time. It’s quite overdue.”

Makana hesitates. How should she go about this? One misstep and her mother will cease the talk at once.

“I spoke with father the other day…”

Instantly, Kalani glares. “This better not be about your father joining the slave army because that subject is not up for discussion.”

“But isn’t it your mantra that everything is always up for discussion? I mean, if people didn’t talk about things, nothing would ever change for the good. Think about slave’s rights. If Queen Hawika didn’t discuss their grievances, we wouldn’t have Daddy here with us right now.”

Kalani’s face pinches like she ate a sour lemon. “Where are you going with this, child?”

“We are a liberal tribe. You even have said it yourself. Our slaves have rights. In fact, they are a part of our family and should be able to decide for themselves what to do. Otherwise, you are ruling with an iron Amazon fist. Is this not what you hate? And yet, you’re barring Daddy from doing the thing he believes in so much.”

“Good point, my dear, but you’re forgetting the truest thing of all. Your father is not a fighting man. He is a cook. A lover. These were the things he was bred for. Not using a sword. And furthermore, he’s as clumsy as an oxen on roller-skates. Do you really think he knows best in this matter?”

Those words knife through Makana. “Mother, it is a hard thing to think about Daddy fighting, but to bar him from going will hurt him to the core. He will not respect you. He will not respect himself. You cannot do this to him.”

“Makana, I cannot bear the thought of anything happening to your father. I love him too much for that. Besides, we need him here. We are down too many slaves. Who would cook for us? Kanui? He’s awful at it. The answer is no.”

“Fine. But I’ll tell you this. If you don’t let him go then your relationship will suffer. Already you’re not talking. It’s been over a week. Think long and hard about this, Mother.”

With that, Makana stands and strides toward the living area. Kalani gazes after her, thinking about her words.

Maybe there is a way to compromise. Kalani’s tires of fighting with her mate. She will speak to Runoi at once.


Alena rushes to report what she’s seen. “Mother, both Vance and Finn are incapacitated. You got your wish. I hope you’re happy now. I think Finn’s jaw is broken.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Alena. They will be fine. I have a spell that will fix Finn up. Send Newlin to me. I wish to speak to him.”

Cautiously, Newlin approaches his mother. He’s unsure what she’ll say. Will she banish him for hurting her favorite sons? Coming here has brought nothing but folly to him. He might run away. Living alone would feel better than this. “I’m here, Mother.”

“Yes, my son, please sit. I have much to discuss with you.”

Once Newlin settles into a chair, his mother smirks. “Your mana is powerful. I can feel it grow even now. Your brothers will follow your orders without fail. You see what I mean about weakness and strength?”

Newlin nods, so relieved his mother is happy. He feels his bond to her grow immeasurably. It was always his desire to be loved by her. And now instead of being angry with him for beating up Finn and Vance, she’s happy. “I do understand. I’ve never felt mana surging like that before. You’re right about Tribe Wahine making me weak. I’m sorry for it.”

“We shall see how sorry you are. We are allied with the rebel forces. And in order to cut Hawika in half, we are to take out Tribe Wahine single handedly. What do you say in being my general to lead in the attack? And if you do this thing, I promise you’ll be the general of the Royal Slave army once your sister ascends the throne.”

This blows Newlin away. Him? A general? He could only dream to have that much power. And to lead the slave army if he does well. “Take Tribe Wahine out, you say? What does this entail?” His thoughts meditate on Kiko and his child. He would never harm them.

“You will lead your brothers and sisters in the cover of night and like a death plague, kill every last one of them until there is not a heart left to beat.”

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Chapter 6.27 New Revelations

“A financial advisor?” Kalani asks Temon, puzzled.

“Of course, my lady. I helped the slave hold to grow its interests five fold in the few years I handled their assets.”

This slave spoke in gibberish to Kalani. Tribe Wahine has never cared for its riches. To her, it is a necessary evil. “And what do we gain by growing these…assets? We have enough money. Nay more than enough. Why do we need more?”

“To trade and barter with the other tribes. To buy more slaves, if needed. To acquire more land. We are bursting at the seams here with all the babies that have been born. They will sire more children and on and on it goes. Can you not see the future? Seriously, your grace, to have more is always best. It’s for your protection, too. As it is, you need more slaves to guard us from warring tribes. We are but a paltry few as most have run off to defend the crown.”

That makes sense. The children will wish to have their own bedrooms once they come of age and they don’t have enough space for all of them. A larger compound will be necessary in the future. And although there aren’t any threats at present, maybe there will be in the future depending on how the war ends. Temon is obviously a very smart man. “So…what would this ‘growing of our assets’ look like? What would you do?”

“First, we will need a vault to put all of our money. From there, I’ll manage our crops, making sure we get the best dollar amounts. We have the rarest of plants and that should grow our gold. I’ll give you a statement of what we produce every week. I promise you’ll be surprised at how rich our tribe will become if you have a person managing it.”

Mist beams. “I told you he was a genius, Creator. He shouldn’t be in charge of laundry anymore. Maybe we can buy another slave to help with that?”

Kalani nods. “You’re right, Mist. I’ll put Temon in charge of acquiring another slave.”

Lifting her hand, Kalani says, “Very well, Temon. You are our chief financial officiant. Do what you wish at managing our wealth. I will meet with you every moon for updates. And I’ll put Kanui in charge of building you an office with its own vault in the basement. Does this sound good to you?”

Temon is beside himself with relief. There is nothing more exciting to him than checking off ledgers and completing a financial grid. No more laundry! Those words are heaven on earth. “Very good indeed, my Creator. And thank you very much.”


Aley loves his job of taking care of the little ones. And he especially is smitten with baby Dak. What a charmer!

“Who’s daddy are you?” Dak asks as Aley is teaching him his A B C’s.

“I’m no one’s daddy, young man. Well, not yet anyway.” If duty calls, Aley will perform for the good of the tribe. Slaves are scarce these days and fresh genes are always welcome. And besides, he saw the change that came over his love, Temon, when little Meadow was born. Aley would like that special gift of a child, too, one day.

RIsing, Aley says to the toddler, “It’s time for you to play, Dak. Run along now.”

“But Aley, who’s MY daddy?”

Good grief! This child is beyond smart for his age. But what to say? Truth is always best but…how could Aley tell this tot his father is a treacherous lout? And Dak was begotten under the most accursed and scandalous situation.

Aley sighs. “Your father is a…um…a hero, little Dak. He…did his duty at defending this tribe and…risked his life to save…you. So, he’s off defending us as we speak.” Aley’s face blushes as he speaks these lies. He fancies himself a good storyteller and so what if it wasn’t true? Dak will never know the difference as he’s never seen his father and no one ever speaks of the curse that his mother is under in the tribe.

Thinking of how wonderful this imagined hero slave is, Aley decides to write it down. Maybe he’ll create a book of stories to tell the little ones.


Newlin’s body screams at him in pain. His double crossing snake brothers drugged him so he couldn’t defend himself. And they pounded, kicked, and beat him until he almost passed out. Why do they hate him so? He came to this tribe out of love only to find poison. He aches for his home, Tribe Wahine. If only he could go back in time, he would have become the most conscientious tribal son, always happy to help, doing his lowly duties with a smile on his face. He would have waited the two suns for Kiko to ask him to be hers. His stomach stabs him painfully.

But it’s too late. And he’s stuck here. In hell.

Newlin passes out for who knows how long when a woman’s husky voice awakens him. “Get up, brother. I’ll tend to your wounds.”

Alena? Since when has she ever been nice? She had been worse than the twins to Newlin. But his face throbs and he needs help to even walk. Grasping her strong hand, he whispers, “Thank you.”


He must have slept for two days, his body aching. Once dressed, Newlin opens his bedroom door to find Alena waiting on him.

“Good. You’re up. Mother wants to speak with you. Attend her upstairs.”

Mother. Yes! That’s the way to get back at his duplicitous siblings. She always had showed him love and respect. “I will go at once, dear sister. And I’ll bend her ear on what folly Finn and Vance have done to me.”

Waving her hands, Alena implores, “You will not speak of this to Mother. Are you as stupid as you look now, brother? She hates weakness. Attend to her needs and button your lip. Understand?”

“But my face will show that someone beat the hell out of me. I’ll not lie.”

Arching her eyebrow, Alena says, “I promise she’ll not ask you. She already knows anyway. She predicted they’d do something to you. Can you not see the hatred in their eyes they cast your way? You must put them in their place. Running to Mother is not the answer.”

Anger wells within him at his sister’s words. He doesn’t believe her. His mother cares for him unlike Alena or his brothers. Alena wants him to fight and get into trouble. “Thank you for your kindness, sister,” he says with malevolence coloring his voice.

He charges upstairs to find his mother having dinner. He grabs a plate. “Do you know what your sons have done to me, Mother? They should go to the pillar of punishment for this injustice.”

Glaring up at him, Mor hisses, “Who did I put in charge of this compound? Are you not strong enough to keep them in line?”

Not a shred of sympathy? Maybe Alena was right. “B-But…they drugged me. How can I control that?”

“Stupid boy. Tribe Wahine has turned you into a sniveling little weakling. I’m ashamed at the sight of you. If you can’t control your siblings, you have no business being here. Deal with this shame or I will put YOU into the pillar of punishment. Understand?”

Her words were like a lash to his back.

But there is truth in what she says. He feels like a scared little weakling. Maybe Tribe Wahine was too lax. Had he not had the best of comforts? This made him soft even with the gifting of his mana. He never had a chance to use it. But now?

His brothers have no idea how strong mana made a person. Finn and Vance were like little boys playing with a cobra.

He chuckles. “As you wish, Mother.”

Weeks pass. Newlin lays low so his brothers will not suspect the malice in his heart. His wounds are healed but not his pride.

Searching the compound, he comes upon them, sitting by a fire, not doing the chores he’s asked of them as usual.

“Yes, brother? What is it you wish from us?” Vance asks.

Finn smirks. “That look on your face could kill a lion. Come. Sit by the fire. We promise to do our chores tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow will be too late for you two will not be able to stand.” Newlin’s hands grow into fists as the mana’s energy surges through him.

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