Track, the lover of Paden, had assumed human form after the pair first met. Now, Track tells Paden they can be together, but their love exacts a price, one that Paden soon learns can be dangerous and potentially deadly.
On the day of a tsunami warning in Honolulu, Paden wakens to find Track is with him after several weeks of absence. They are both needed, Track tells him, and soon they traverse a rainbow to unravel the mystery of a young man who has committed a kapu. He has broken a sacred taboo, angering the gods of old Hawaii, and he desperately needs their help.
Having followed Paden into the spirit realm, Kimo’s toddler daughter, Pele, arrives and intervenes. But will the cataclysmic repercussions be too much for Paden and Track to handle and tear them apart forever?
NOTE: This story was previously published with the ISBN: 978-1-55487-627-3. This reissued version of the story has been revised and reedited.
We fell into the path of the cold blue beam, where indigo and violet merged. I felt Track pulling me along with him. I coaxed myself to absorb the shock of the freezing temperatures. I had to stop thinking like a human. I had to think of myself as a spirit body having a human experience, not the other way around.
Track steered me to the next band of color. We were green. Green! I felt the flash of fire as my feet touched the ground. We were in a forest. It felt primordial. Oh, my senses were all awakened. Such lushness, such sounds…I heard the cry of voices.
“Hurry,” Track said. “We’ll be late!”
Late for what?
He was much better at this than I, since I was a novice and he was a child of the rainbow. My feet still felt the urge to touch the ground. I tried to relax, tried to float as he did, and then we picked up speed.
“Perfect!” he shouted. “Paden, trust me!”
We arrived at a clearing, and rain pounded down. We touched the earth, gigantic green leaves sticking to our feet. I was surprised to see I was wearing a tiny red malo, a loin cloth. So was Track. In the center of the clearing was a young man. On his knees, he raised his beautiful face to a group of men…giants, I recognized as Night Marchers.
These ancient warriors, some of them seven feet tall and more, had once walked the Hawaiian Islands in human form. Now they were the guardians of the old ways, deciders of kapu, of what was forbidden. I knew even before I became immortal that for any human to see a Night Marcher crossing his path meant instant death.
Now that we were here, the rain abated. Rain always indicated a giant kapu had been committed. The man on his knees wept, lifting his hands away from his face.
“Please…please don’t kill me. I never meant to break the kapu. My baby died. My wife…she asked me to bury our little girl in our ancestral cave. Please…if you kill me, too, she’ll have nothing to live for. I don’t want her to die.”
He was a brave human, to speak to a Night Marcher that way. He was also an unusual human to be able to see them at all.
Why were Track and I here?
I saw the man’s necklace then. It was a petroglyph of the fire goddess, Pele.
Damn. He was a devotee of the queen of the burning stones. Had the man somehow picked the wrong cave?
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A. J. Llewellyn lives in California, but dreams of living in Hawaii. Frequent trips to all the islands, bags of Kona coffee in his fridge and a healthy collection of Hawaiian records keep this writer refueled. A. J. loves male/male erotica, has a passion for all animals—especially the dog, the cat and the turtle. A. J. believes that love is a song best sung out loud.