The Gods of Lava Cove Read online

  Leilani looked around at all the graves. “Maybe they buried it with one of the bodies in this cemetery,” she suggested. “Maybe you’re supposed to find the right one and dig it up.”

  I scowled. “Disturbing the remains of our ancestors sounds like a great way to anger the gods,” I muttered.

  “Kalon, a trickster stole my body and a monstrous octopus just tried to make you its midnight snack,” Leilani reminded me. “Angering gods would be nothing new.”

  She had a point. I gazed around the cemetery, searching for a sign, anything to tell me what I should do next.

  I didn’t have to wonder for very long.

  Somewhere on the opposite side of the graveyard, I heard the crunch of footsteps.

  We were no longer alone.

  Someone was marching through the graveyard with slow, deliberate steps. Maybe it was one of the archaeologists doing some late-night research in the graveyard. Or maybe my aunt had found our empty beds and had sent a search party out looking for us.

  The truth was far more terrifying.

  When the figure stepped out from behind one of the coral gravestones, I had to clamp my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming.

  20

  The first thing I noticed: its rotting flesh. The skin on its face and chest had turned a shade of greenish gray. It had peeled away in patches, revealing the bones beneath. Wispy grey hair hung off its head like cobwebs.

  The undead’s spindly fingers gripped a spear. From the tattered loincloth and cape it wore, I imagined it had once been a warrior—back when it was still among the living.

  Even from the side, I could see the hollow, sunken sockets where its eyes used to be. Its nose had caved in and its lips had turned to ash, exposing its yellowed, broken teeth in a permanent grin.

  It abruptly paused on its path through the coral. Then its head swiveled to look in my direction.

  I dove behind the nearest gravestone to escape its line of vision. As I did, I caught the briefest glimpse of the two pools of fire in its eye sockets.

  Leilani floated to a crouch beside me. “First a killer octopus, now a zombie?” she whispered. “What’s next—a pack of werewolves?”

  I knew zombie wasn’t exactly the right word for the thing lurking in the graveyard. As terrified as I felt, I tried to focus on the facts that I’d learned while reading about the various Polynesian mythologies. “The Hawaiian people describe something similar in their myths,” I said quietly. “They call them Nightmarchers. They’re undead warriors that trek across the island after the sun goes down. If you’re unfortunate enough to cross paths with one, you’re supposed to lay face down on the ground and shut your eyes. If you make eye contact with it …” I swallowed hard. “Well, let’s just say I’d rather take my chances with the octopus.”

  I chanced another peak out from my hiding spot. The resurrected warrior seemed to be marching on a winding path through the cemetery. Hine, the goddess of the underworld who Tagalo had wronged, must have put the Nightmarcher here to deter anyone who sought the trickster’s flesh.

  “Wait a minute …” I whispered as I peered closer at the warrior. The cape dragging behind him was tan and leathery. It didn’t move like any fabric I’d ever seen.

  A gust of wind momentarily flapped the cape around.

  That’s when I saw the warped face at the bottom of it.

  A shudder rippled through me. Tagalo’s flesh wasn’t buried somewhere in the Coral Cemetery.

  The Nightmarcher was wearing it as a cape.

  Now I could see the arms trailing along behind it. Without a skeleton to support it, the skin barely looked human at all. The skull-less face gaped out with no eyes or teeth.

  Leilani seemed to reach the same conclusion. “I hope you’re faster than I remember, Kalon,” she said to me. “Because you’re about to play the world’s deadliest game of capture the flag.”

  21

  So this was it. I was going to have to steal Tagalo’s lost flesh right off the Nightmarcher’s back.

  “What are we going to do?” Leilani asked. Her voice quivered, as though she were the one who had to tango with a zombie.

  I shrugged. “I figured I’d walk right up to him, tap him on the shoulder, and say, ‘Excuse me, mister. Do you mind if I borrow your skin cape?’”

  Leilani rolled her eyes. “You can be such a punk, Kalon,” she said.

  “A punk who is risking his own life to save yours,” I reminded her, “even though you’re my least favorite cousin.”

  “I’m your only cousin,” she replied. “So technically I’m also your favorite.”

  I threw up my hands in exasperation and turned my attention back to the Nightmarcher. If I tried to sneak up behind him and he turned around, then I could end up a pile of ashes if we made eye contact.

  A crazy idea came to me. If the Nightmarcher stories were true, then I should be safe as long as I lay face down and shut my eyes. That obviously wouldn’t help me while I was hiding over here.

  But if I placed myself directly in its path …

  Before I could chicken out, I raced over to another row of coral gravestones. Eventually, the warrior’s loop around the cemetery should take him through this section.

  I lowered my body to the ground. I pressed my face to the cold soil and closed my eyes.

  A moment later, I heard the telltale crunch of the Nightmarcher’s footsteps as he turned the corner. I scrunched my eyes tighter. What if the myths were wrong? What if he saw me lying in his path after all, stupidly believing I was invisible to his fiery gaze?

  I swallowed hard. Too late to back out now.

  His shuffling footsteps got closer. Closer. Too late, I realized that I had done too good a job placing myself in his path.

  He was going to trample right over me.

  Soon, he reached the patch of grass just in front of my face. He was so close I could hear the creak of his bones, and smell his rotting flesh. I drew in a final deep breath and tried not to gag.

  The next step landed on my back.

  He planted a bony foot right between my shoulder blades. I let out a light wheeze as his second foot brought his full weight down on me.

  Moments later, I felt the long cape graze the back of my head. Slowly, I raised one of my hands and grabbed a handful of it. I struggled not to shudder at the feeling of Tagalo’s loose, boneless flesh clutched between my fingers.

  As the warrior continued forward, I felt the cape go taut. With a deep grunt, the ghoul tried to muscle his way forward. It was like a game of tug-of-war, with one end of the cape in my hand and the other tied around his neck.

  Finally, as he continued to struggle, the cape came free. I tensed up immediately as I prepared for him to turn on me.

  Instead, his heavy footsteps shuffled away. It had worked! The one object he was supposed to protect had slipped right off his back. Being dead must have rotted his nerve endings—or at least his brain.

  I cautiously got to my feet. Leilani floated over to me and I triumphantly hoisted Tagalo’s flesh. “See?” I whispered. “Stealing from the gods is a piece of—”

  Before I could say “cake,” I heard the furious scream of the warrior as he realized he’d been robbed.

  22

  I had never run faster in my whole life. One moment I was celebrating obtaining Tagalo’s lost flesh; the next, we were fleeing the coral cemetery as the undead warrior thundered after us.

  We plunged into the trees, hoping to lose the zombie in the foliage. I followed a zigzagging path, changing direction every thirty feet. Hopefully, the Nightmarcher wouldn’t have the wits to follow.

  Eventually, when I could no longer hear our pursuer’s footsteps, I stopped to catch my breath. Between gasps, I said, “Let’s take … a safer route … on the way down.”

  I pulled the map from my backpack again and flattened it to the ground. Only one stop on our trail remained, a red dot partway up the volcano. It marked where we’d supposedly find Tagalo’s blood.
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br />   Leilani pointed to the spot on the map. “They call that crater Shipwreck Point,” she said. She gazed up at the summit of the volcano, which filled the sky now that we had climbed halfway up the slope. “It’s not far from here.”

  She was right. After fifteen minutes of hiking, we stumbled across a trail through the jungle she recognized.

  When we finally emerged from the trees, we stopped on the rim of a giant crater, and I discovered why they’d nicknamed it Shipwreck Point.

  A sea of black stone stretched before us, forming a giant, shallow bowl. Not a single plant grew among the barren rock, not even a blade of grass. It looked like we’d landed on a foreign moon.

  Yet even though we had climbed a thousand feet above sea level, a handful of old canoes were strewn about the rocky basin. They were all broken, and their wood had been charred black in places.

  “How did they get up here?” I asked Leilani. “And why?”

  My cousin shrugged. “Nobody knows. The local people consider this a sacred place, belonging to the volcano goddess Pele. Maybe they brought the boats as a tribute to make her happy.”

  Pele—the goddess who had supposedly taken Tagalo’s blood from him. At least I knew we were on the right track.

  On first glance, the crater didn’t look dangerous. Sure, the smoking summit of the volcano loomed behind it. Aside from that, it was just a bunch of rocks and some old canoes. What was the worst that could happen? Getting a splinter?

  I should have known it was all too easy.

  I tentatively stepped down into the crater. As I did, I felt the objects in my backpack begin to vibrate. They must have sensed that the third and final piece of Tagalo’s body was near.

  In the center of the crater, one boat started to tremble. It had a tattered sail slung between two masts. At the very top of one of the masts, a small orb glowed red against the night sky. The light pulsed rhythmically like a heartbeat. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

  “Either that orb contains Tagalo’s blood,” I told Leilani, “or that is one funky disco ball.”

  I moved cautiously across the crater. I kept my distance from the other canoes. Who knew what dangers lurked behind the broken wood, ready to spring out.

  To my surprise, I reached the main boat without being attacked. I gazed up at the red orb atop the mast. This close, I could see the blood churning about inside.

  I moved closer to the sails, trying to find the safest way up. “Here, I’ll give you a boost,” Leilani offered, then held up her transparent hands. “Just kidding, still a ghost.”

  “I’m starting to think it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if you stayed that way,” I said.

  She glared at me. “If I get stuck like this for eternity, I will haunt you.”

  I grumbled as I searched for a path to climb the mast. The good news was that cracks in the wood provided convenient handholds for me to use.

  The bad news? The splinters that stabbed into my fingers every level of the way. I really hoped there was a pair of tweezers back at the camp.

  Finally, I made it to the top of the mast. With one arm wrapped around the pole, I reached the other up and gently lifted the orb from its perch. The blood inside bubbled under my touch. I carefully placed it inside my backpack with the other items.

  I was about to climb down when I felt the ship lurch beneath me. “Uh, Leilani?” I said. “Please tell me that’s you rocking the boat.”

  “No,” she replied. Alarm rose in her voice. “But I think we’re about to find out why there are so many boats up here.”

  I looked down at the crater. From tiny cracks in the rock, water started to bubble up. There must have been natural springs hidden beneath the crust.

  By the time I slid down the mast onto the canoe below, the water had transformed the crater into a small lake. The boat beneath me started to float.

  I stared down at the water. It was shallow enough that I could probably just wade back to the rim without even swimming. “This is it?” I blurted out. “The third and final challenge is a kiddie pool?”

  I started to lower my foot to the water, ready to splash my way back to solid ground.

  “Kalon—” Leilani tried to warn me.

  I didn’t listen, but I should have. As soon as my sandaled toes touched the water, I let out a scream.

  The water was boiling hot.

  23

  I stared at the red welts blossoming on my toes. I guess swimming across the lake was out.

  Looks like I was going to have to sail my way to safety. There was no paddle in sight, so I snapped off a loose piece of board from the deck to use as a makeshift oar. I lowered it into the water and started to row as hard as I could without splashing myself with boiling water.

  Slowly, the boat drifted across the lake. I had to switch my oar from one side to the other, back and forth, to keep the prow moving straight.

  Halfway across the crater, steam began to rise from the water’s surface. A gentle red glow illuminated the water from below.

  When I looked down, I discovered where all the steam was coming from.

  Lava. Liquid, hot lava was now spewing up through the cracks in the crater.

  When it struck the water, some of it turned to stone, only to be replaced by even more. I frantically paddled hard, but with each stroke, the lava rose higher, until the bottom of the canoe was barely skimming over it. My oar blackened as it brushed the molten stone.

  By the time I approached the rim of the crater, the tip of my oar had burned off. I was left holding a short stump of wood.

  Without anything to paddle with, the canoe coasted to a stop a few lengths from the crater’s rim. I had come so close and now safety was just ten feet away.

  Could I make the leap? If I fell short, I would fall directly into the lava. “Leilani,” I said. “I don’t know if I can make it.”

  She floated up beside me. “Pretty soon you won’t have a choice,” she replied. She pointed at the back of the canoe.

  I followed her finger. The lava had finally made contact with the hull of the boat. Smoke billowed up in a dark curtain.

  Then the canoe ignited.

  Flames sprung up from the wood. The heat from the fire washed over me as it quickly consumed the boat. In seconds, it had raced up the mast and turned the tattered sail into a crackling inferno. I could feel the vessel starting to sink as the lava chewed through the hull.

  And somewhere beneath it all, I heard the dark cackle of a woman. I had no doubt I was hearing the laughter of Pele, the volcano goddess. She seemed to be taking pleasure in my plight.

  I had come to steal the blood orb from her, and now she was going to punish me with a fiery death.

  “Not today,” I whispered. I slipped the backpack off my shoulders and tossed it across the divide. I aimed for a patch of soft earth so the fall wouldn’t damage the contents of the bag.

  The flames continued to advance toward me. I took a last look at the bubbling lava that separated me from safety.

  Then, after a short running start, I launched myself across the void.

  As I sailed over the lava, the heat engulfed me. If my jump fell even a few inches short, I would be barbecued before I had time to blink.

  My toes landed on the rim of the crater. For a moment, I tottered on the edge, and I felt myself start to fall backward into the lava pit.

  Then I regained my balance, and with a deep sigh of relief, I stepped down onto solid ground.

  While I waited for my heart to stop racing, I said to Leilani, “Remember that game ‘don’t step on the lava’ we used to play on my kitchen tiles?” I asked. “Let’s never play that again.”

  I bent down and retrieved my backpack. Sunrise was less than an hour away, and if we didn’t get these three items back to the temple in time, who knew if Tagalo would keep up his end of the bargain.

  Suddenly, I heard Leilani scream, “Kalon, watch out!”

  Too late I heard the footsteps staggering up behind me. An inhuman voice rasped,
“Give me back the flesh!”

  The Nightmarcher had found us.

  Before I could run, his ghoulish body slammed into me from behind.

  24

  One moment the backpack was in my hands; the next the Nightmarcher knocked me down and the pack flew from my grasp. From the ground, I watched as it landed in front of me. The contents all went rolling dangerously close to the lava.

  Maybe if I stayed perfectly still on the ground, he wouldn’t see me like last time. However, when Leilani yelled, “Watch out for his spear!” I knew that I’d reached the end of my luck.

  I rolled out of the way just as the spear came thrusting down where I’d just been lying seconds before. The point was so sharp it pierced right through a pile of rocks.

  I scrambled to my feet. I knew that staring directly at the Nightmarcher could instantly kill me, so I kept my back to him.

  However, my cousin was already a ghost and had looked at the Nightmarcher without a problem. “Leilani, I need you to be my eyes,” I called out to her. “I have an idea.”

  “In that case, duck!” she shouted.

  I lowered my head and felt the whiff of the spearhead passing inches from my hair. While I had my chance, I reached up and grabbed the spear. With a yard yank, I ripped it from the ghoul’s leathery grasp.

  Before I could use it against him, the spear abruptly turned to ashes. I guess it was only meant for the Nightmarcher’s hands—

  Which I felt seize me by the neck. His disgusting yellowed fingernails scratched at my skin.

  I pried his skeletal fingers off me and scrambled away. I spotted Tagalo’s flesh, which had landed near the lava. If this was what he was after, I would use that to my advantage.

  I climbed onto the rim of the crater. With the flesh cape clutched in one hand, I faced the burning expanse. “When he’s close to me, I need you to warn me,” I called out to Leilani. “But not until the very last second.”