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Chapter Text

The island, if you could call it that, was barely more than a windswept collection of enormous boulders with sand trapped between them.  Maui could walk the whole perimeter in a matter of an hour or so.  It was the most miserable, forsaken dump that he could possibly imagine.  There was not a single tree on the whole spit of land, neither for shade nor for fruit.  Indeed, there was little more than just a few mossy patches on bare stone and some prickly clumps of weeds sprouting from the sand.  The sole shelter came in the form of cave, which was dry only when the weather was clear.  When storms came, water poured through the hole in its roof and left it damp and foul.  He might have died of thirst, however, had that rainwater not pooled and collected in a shallow depression, tucked into an alcove of the cavern .  Starvation, of course, was also a lingering concern.  He managed to stave it off, however, and survived on seaweed and what few sea creatures he could catch in the shallow water along the beach with his bare hands.  It was meager rations, but he could live on it.

The stark bleakness of the island itself was nothing compared to the crushing loneliness of being stranded upon it, however.  The island was truly desolate, smothered in oppressive silence without palm fronds to rustle in the wind, birds to sing in the day, or insects to chirp in the night.  The silence rang in his ears.  Maui was truly alone here.

At first, Maui had ignored the passage of time.  This was just a minor setback, of course, and time was always so ephemeral to an immortal demigod, after all.  He was no stranger to it slipping through his fingers unnoticed.  Besides, surely someone would come looking for him and this uncomfortable situation would be quickly put behind him.

No one came.

Later, he began to hack crude tick marks into the stone to mark each day.  It was an inaccurate count from the start, as he had no clear idea of how long it had been before he began the count.  However, as what must surely be years upon years had passed by, he felt his metaphorical grip on the rudder start to slip and needed something to steady the course.  Maui remembered that once it had been easy to mark the passage of time—when he could see it reflected right before him every day in the face of a friend.

He began to count.

The tick marks added up, slowly taking the shape of the one thing that could get him out of here and the one thing that made him special—his fishhook.

Where was his hook?  It had been knocked from his hand by the lava demon, he knew that much.  But where had it ended up?  So too had he lost his grip on the Heart of Te Fiti—the prize he had wanted to badly to deliver to the humans.  Both were likely consigned to the sea, sinking into the depths.  Maui knew well, though, that things cast into the deep were not always truly lost.  Below the sea lay Lalotai and many things overtaken by the depths would eventually come to rest there.  If that was so, Maui had a pretty good idea who probably had it by now.

The thought brought him little comfort, only leading to other even more uncomfortable thoughts.  Maui had been steadfastly forcing those thoughts to side for years now, even before becoming stranded on this cheerless outcropping.  He’d employed steady tactics of distraction, denial, disregard, and feigned detachment to try and bury it all.  Alone, however, with no one to put a show on for, it was difficult to continue lying to himself.

Still trying to avoid the real subject, Maui thought instead of Haunui—that cursed golden war club—now also rendered into the depths.  The legends had clearly been mistaken about it.  Rather than peace, it had brought the humans deadly strife when he had presented it to them.  Mortals were so accutely susceptible to such things, it would seem.  But was that all?

There was a lingering thought that nagged at him, ever since the debacle at the human village that lead to his pursuit of Te Fiti’s heart.  Maui cringed to even consider it, but he had no escape from his thoughts on this lonely island.

Had he been affected by the war club’s toxic influence as well?

Maui knew, no matter the answer to that question, that his actions had been his own.  No one had coerced him into doing the things that he had done and no curse had forced his hand.  Despite this, he wondered if things might have been exacerbated at least in part by that cursed thing.  Perhaps he hadn’t been completely immune, but what if he had been influenced by it?  It made him uncomfortable to even consider what that might mean.

Then there was the thing he couldn’t avoid forever and the guilt he tried in vain to justify and explain away.  The stain just wouldn’t wash off.  His mind was forever skittering away from it, recoiling at even the slightest stray thought in that direction or, if exposed to an audience, covering it up with bluster and boast.  Even now, he skirted those treacherous reefs for at least slightly more tolerable seas.

At some point, Maui stopped carving tick marks in the rocks to mark the days he was imprisoned on the island.  There didn’t seem to be much point in counting the endless days anymore.  He’d drawn numerous effigies of his hook with hundreds of day marks by now.  Nobody was coming for him.

Was this what it had been like for Tamatoa, alone on the island Maui had pulled up for him eons ago?  He probably should have gone to visit like he’d promised.  He could see for himself now that the solitude, deprived of even simple conversation or company, was absolutely maddening.

Lacking an audience, Maui talked to himself.  It seemed strange to talk to himself, though.  The mortals would think he was unhinged if they saw him at it!  So, he spoke to his tattoos instead—conversing with them as if they were alive.  It was still awkward, but felt less odd than shouting to the open air.

Maui’s tattoos had always been malleable, changing and shifting as he performed noteworthy deeds.  They could move, animated by some elusive magic, to tell a story when he was so inspired.  One even hid itself, as if in shame, behind another on his back.  As such, it was unsurprising when it seemed the tattooed image of himself was responding to his lonely monologues.  In truth, he was never entirely sure if it was just an flimsy effigy built by his own need for a companion or if the tattooed image had truly developed a personality of his own.  Either way, it was the only company he had and so he just rolled with it.

It helped keep him distracted, at any rate, as century after wretched century rolled by without end.  All he wanted was to get off this awful little island, to feel the wind beneath his hawk wings or filling his canoe’s sails again.  By now, he would do anything to get off this island.  He would take any opportunity, no matter the cost.  He had to get free.  If only he had his hook.  If only—

Maui awoke with a start, blinking in the strong sunlight.  As the fleeting wisps of his dream still swirled around him and held him in their grasping tendrils, he very nearly forgot where he was.  For a brief, heart-stopping moment, he imagined he was still stuck on that rocky little island—trapped and alone.  It was only once his vision sharpened and he saw the green fronds of palm trees swaying gently overhead in the late morning breeze that the momentary flash of terror fled and he sighed with relief.

Maui was alone, but he was not trapped.

His hook rested on the black sand nearby, not far from where he had stretched out comfortably on the beach to sleep.  He could leave this island at any time.  One flick of his fishhook and he could be airborne, flying away to any place he desired.  After more than a thousand years of clipped wings, the mere thought that he could go wherever he pleased once more was absolutely exhilarating.

Maui stood up and stretched, taking a deep breath and soaking in the beautiful island around him.  The slender crescent of black sand upon which he had spent the night circled a deep lagoon of clear blue water.  Verdant hillsides stretched up from the beach, rising to weathered mountains above.  A riot of colorful plants sprouted from rich, dark soil and all around the air was permeated with the damp, woody smell of life and growth.  Nothing could be farther from the barren rock pile he had spent the past thousand years upon.

After leaving Moana to return, bright and triumphant, to her beloved people, Maui had spent the better part of two days simply soaring from island to island for the sheer joy of it.  He reveled in the feel of the wind under his wings and the sight of lush islands rising from the horizon.  Unconstrained and unbound, he felt more alive than he had in centuries.  It was a heady feeling and he savored every moment of it.

His heart felt lighter, too.  Moana had opened his eyes in ways he hadn’t expected, lifting the weight of his self-doubts.  Perhaps he did have worth beyond what adoration the mortals bestowed upon him in exchange for his deeds and gifts to them.  For the first time, he didn’t feel a compulsion to please them at all costs.  Of course, he still wanted to help them and always would, but now he didn’t feel so driven to push the boundaries of reason just to win their approval.

Who would have guessed that a slip of a mortal girl like her could make such a lasting impact?  She was the first friend he had had in—well, that didn’t bear thinking about.  One thing lingered in his mind, though—Moana was mortal.  Mortal lifespans were so short and fleeting.  Knowing his friend would be gone in barely the blink of an eye was a disquieting notion and one that he’d never had to deal with before.  He’d have to remember to visit her often and not let the years slip by as they were often prone to.

Regardless, Maui felt happier and more carefree than he had in ages.  True, he knew that eventually he’d have to repair the reputation amongst the humans that he’d shattered by his actions.  He’d made mistakes and would have to work to win back their good will towards him and restore his good name.  That responsibility would catch up to him soon enough, but for now he was content to just enjoy his newfound freedom and the wide, beautiful world he had longed to return to.

Naturally, this was a perfect time for something to intrude and shatter this blissful interlude.  Maui looked up from his thoughts and, right on cue, that interruption was on its way.

A tall, handsome woman was walking down the hillside towards him—a woman who was wrapped in a long mantle of black tapa cloth and who had eyes that burned like embers taken from the heart of a fire.

***

Lalotai was not known as a charitable realm.  Indeed, it was a brutal place where beneficence and friendly assistance was practically unheard of.  Knowing this, however, didn’t stop Tamatoa from wailing miserably for help as he lay stuck on his back, stranded on his own doorstep no less.

He wasn’t even sure who he was yelling for or why.  Perhaps it was just a reflexive thing, a remnant of a time when help would have been on the way.  Nevertheless, he kept calling out in between increasingly desperate attempts to rock himself back upright.

Frankly, this was embarrassing.  He cursed himself for being so easily misled.  It was an amateur move and he’d fallen for it like an idiot.  What had he been thinking?  Next time, he told himself, eat the interlopers first and then chase down potential treasure.  And maybe save the singing for after dinner entertainment.  Though, he had to concede, it was nice to have an audience for a change.  He hoped Maui had been suitably impressed by his song.

Ah yes, Maui.  Admittedly, he was a bit thrown off his game by the shockingly unexpected appearance of Maui standing on his shell, hook in hand.  Even after a thousand years, he had felt a stab of momentary fear and had swiftly recoiled from the sight.  Of course, then he’d gotten a whiff of payback when it became clear that Maui had no control over his hook’s power.  Perhaps Tamatoa had let it go a bit to his head, but it was hard to resist humiliating the insufferable, traitorous semi-god, particularly in front of one of his precious humans.  He hoped it stung.

All those details would mean nothing, though, if he couldn’t get himself flipped over and soon.  As several days passed, his plaintive pleas had trailed off to half-hearted calls for aid and dejected singing to himself.  If only there was something within reach, he was pretty sure he could pull himself back over.  Unfortunately, there was nothing suitable nearby.  Nor had he had any success throwing his weight to scoot closer to any anchoring object.  In truth, he’d been hesitant to move too far to either side anyway, considering the sheer and surely fatal drop on either side of the pathway to his home if he misjudged the distance.

He had been fortunate thus far that few monsters of a size capable of posing a legitimate threat to him inhabited this part of Lalotai.  This was, of course, all by design.  He’d long ago run off any potential challengers to his territory and the smaller creatures feared him enough to avoid him even when in such a compromised position.

However, this did not exactly make for helpful neighbors who might be willing to give him a bit of a push to set him upright.  If anything, he thought bitterly, whatever creatures might be within earshot were probably just waiting for him to starve to death so they could begin fighting to claim his home, his treasures, and likely his earthly remains as well.

With that unpleasant thought serving as motivation, he resumed trying to flip himself upright again with renewed vigor.  It was pointless, however, and he was forced to quit once again as he grew exhausted.  He let out a growling, guttural yell of frustration and let his limbs fall limply again.

It was then that he heard something approaching with a quiet tapping of steps on the soft earth.  Stuck as he was, he swiveled his eyestalks to try and locate the source of the sound.  If he was lucky, it was something small that he could snatch up and at least get a bite to eat out of.  If he was unlucky, however—well, he could be in for some trouble.

There was apparently a third option, however, and Tamatoa let out an annoyed huff as he spotted the creatures approaching.  It had been centuries since he’d last encountered them, but he remembered them well now.

Two spiders of enormous size, although still only a little more than half as tall as he was these days, came into view.  He had only seen them a few times and always at strangely significant moments, but they were unmistakable.  Both were a glossy black, decorated in vibrantly glowing color patterns.  The larger sported accent colors of purple and pink, the other in yellow and orange.  What could they possibly want this time?

Herenui, the larger of the two, approached and gave him a level, long-suffering look.  “When are you going to learn?” she admonished without preamble, her melodic voice tinted with mild rebuke.

Tamatoa shot her a glare filled with dislike.  “When are you going to mind your own business?”

The smaller spider, Hereiti, giggled—a dissonant sound that never failed to put him on edge.  “So rude when he was just yelling for help,” she chirped brightly, tilting her head to peer at his inverted face.  “Never seen him from this angle before, but it’s not a bad view!” she said, her amusement plain as she looked him over appreciatively.

Suddenly feeling very exposed, Tamatoa curled his tail closer to his body and pulled his legs in to do likewise.  That earned him another eerie laugh from the smaller spider in response.  Even Herenui smirked at his discomfiture and Tamatoa silently cursed them both.  Ordinarily he’d be flattered, but right now he was in too compromising a position to enjoy such attention.  He had been stuck here for days, he was hungry, and his patience was worn thin.  He kept his temper in check, however, as these two might be his best chance of getting out of this.  After all, they had helped him once long ago.  Willing help was a difficult thing to find in Lalotai and he was not fool enough to let an opportunity slip away.  So, he endured their ridicule and teasing without comment in the name of potentially getting back on his feet.

Herenui stepped closer to him with long, sweeping strides, assessing his position with critical eyes from beside his head.  “You’ve been fighting with that demigod again, we heard.”  She clicked in disapproval.  “Have you considered that perhaps you need to rethink your strategy?”

Tamatoa let out another disgruntled huff.  “I was doing just fine,” he said defensively.  Oh yes, just fine.  Until he decided to be an idiot and chase after a fake trinket without thinking.

Herenui smirked at him, almost as if she could read his thoughts or, more likely, the look on his expressive face.  “And yet, here we are.”

She cast a glance over to her companion and the smaller spider came forward as well to stand on the other side of his head.  He felt a quick flash of wariness, unsettled by the pair of odd spiders now in such close proximity.  His antennae twitched and he opened his mouth to say something, but never got the chance.

Without warning, the two spiders swiftly bent to brace themselves under the edge of shell.  He barely had time to register surprise at it when they lifted up in unison and gave him a none-to-gentle push up.  Hurriedly, he scrambled to rock his weight with the unexpected boost. 

With a grunt he was rolled upright at last, the impact shaking the ground and causing the tentacle palm trees nearby to sway.  He blinked back a wave of dizziness and shook himself, getting himself centered once more.  Then relief washed over him, immensely glad to finally be right side up again.

Tamatoa looked back to the two spiders, though, with suspicion coloring whatever gratitude he might have expressed.  “Why do you keep helping me?” he asked them warily.

Herenui gave him an unreadable look for a long moment, which then faded into something more neutral.  “Hereiti likes you,” she said dismissively.  At her side, Hereiti grinned and laughed lightly.  Herenui wasn’t done, however, and went on.  “And I hate to see the last of any species throw their life away so recklessly.”

That sparked a memory more than a thousand years old and Tamatoa’s antennae swept forward.  He hesitated for a moment, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer.  After a moment to consider, though, he forged ahead to ask what he hadn't had the chance to centuries ago.  “Am I really the only one?”

Herenui’s glittering green eyes met his steadily.  “I had thought they were gone long ago, but then you appeared.  So we searched to be sure,” she said slowly, then looked at him with sympathy.  “There are no others.”

Tamatoa was silent, unsure how to feel about this.  True, he had never sought out any of his own kind and had little interest in doing so.  Nevertheless, it was one thing to simply not go looking and quite another to realize that there was no one to go looking for.

He must have been quiet for too long, because Herenui took a step towards him and began to speak.

Tamatoa quickly cut her off, however, not wanting to hear whatever potentially consoling words she was about to say.  “It’s fine, babe,” he said before she could even ask, adopting a smooth tone.  “Now I really am one of a kind,” he continued airily—a thin boast.

Skepticism was written plainly on Herenui’s features at this.  Beside her, however, Hereiti looked at him with a sadness vastly unlike her usual chipper self.

Tamatoa didn’t need their pity.  He didn’t want their pity.  With an irritated flick of his antennae, he turned away from the armor-piercing stare of their knowing eyes.  “Appreciate the help,” he said off-hand over his shoulder.  “Now, get lost.”

With that, Tamatoa walked stiffly away and back towards the rubble and mess of his lair.  He didn’t even stop to pick up the scattered trinkets that had dropped from his shell in his fall.

***

Maui stared with growing unease as the woman approached.  He was pretty sure he knew who this was, but he was dearly hoping that he was wrong.

As she came closer, however, his hopes were soundly dashed.  There was no mistaking the woman who stood before him now.  She was tall and straight-backed, carrying herself with pride and easy grace.  Her features were angular and sharply defined and, rather than being conventionally beautiful, possessed an aristocratic handsomeness that was striking rather than pretty.  Long tendrils of dark hair flowed down her shoulders like ropy whorls of cooled pahoehoe.  It was her eyes, however, that gave her away.  They drifted between a deep, glossy black like shards of obsidian to the burning red-orange glow of hot coals in the dark.

“Tūtū Pele,” he crooned, turning on the charm.  “Long time no see.”

The volcano goddess looked at him as if he were a particularly annoying insect, unimpressed.  “Maui,” she said, her tone brittle and plainly unfriendly.

His suave facade dissolved and he fidgeted nervously.  Pele’s fiery temper was legendary.  Maui had just escaped the wrath of one goddess and had no desire to face another’s any time soon.  “Uh.. what can I do for you?”

Pele fixed him with a burning glare, eyes alight with the fires below the earth.  “What can you do?” she echoed darkly.  “You can fix the mess you have created!”

“Now wait, I put back the heart of Te Fiti!” Maui said, rising quickly to his own defense.  “Well, I helped anyway,” he amended lamely, then went on in an insistent voice.  “I did fix things!  It’s over.”

Pele laughed without humor, a sound harsh as pumice clinking across jagged stone.  “Did you really think you could do what you’ve done and there would be no repercussions?  That the price of redemption would come so cheaply?  That one small act—not even wholly your own act—could absolve you of your misdeeds?”

Stunned, Maui opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again.  Then gathered himself and said, “what are you talking about?  Te Fiti is whole again and the darkness is gone.  End of story!”

“The darkness you unleashed when you defiled Te Fiti—” she began sharply and Maui winced guiltily at her words.  “—did not simply vanish with her restoration.  Some of it remained behind.  It soaked into the deepest parts of the earth, seeping down where men never dare to tread.”

Well, this sounded like a monologue coming on.  Maui kept his expression neutral and appeasing.  In his experience, interrupting hot-tempered divine entities when they got a good lecture going was typically a bad idea.

“The roots of my fires are born from far below.”  Pele fixed him now with a piercing glare, filled with accusation.  “I know what lies within the depths of the earth.  I know what you planted there.”

Maui flinched, eyes widening as she went on and the last traces of any amusement he felt evaporating.  No, it wasn’t possible.  It couldn’t be.

“The darkness you unleashed found it, too.  And in the endless dark below all realms, that darkness found power to achieve a will of its own.”

Oh.  Well, that was bad.  Maui could do little but listen in growing unease.  So much for getting some down time.

“It rises now, seeking to consume all.  It will ravage the caverns deep within the earth.  When all below is destroyed, it will consume the realm between—Lalotai.  Once Lalotai is stripped bare, it will find its way to the surface and lay waste to the world above.  The barriers between worlds have grown thin already with your thoughtless meddling with the Mother Island.”  She gave him an unreadable look, then looked off into the distance.  “If you do not seal them, the surface world will be consumed as well.” 

At this, Maui’s face twisted sharply as a dire thought struck him from where it was deeply buried.  He barely had time to process it all, though, before Pele continued.

She speared him with her burning gaze again.  “You have created this threat with your increasingly reckless and foolhardy actions.  The Ocean itself awoke because of your foolishness and even that was not enough to undo this damage.  You have to make it right.”

Maui faltered, overwhelmed.  “But—” he started, then trailed off—his excuses dying unspoken as he looked into the goddess’ eyes and found no mercy there.  “I’ll fix this,” he assured her quickly.  “I’ll make it right.”

She nodded, though her fiery expression did not waver.  “Know this: if you fail and yet survive the wrath of this darkness you have unleashed, you will face my wrath instead.  And you know perfectly well that there is no island you can shelter on where I cannot travel.  I am Pele!  You know what I can do,” she gave him one final hard look and Maui had no doubts that she would back up her threat.  “Do not fail.”

Without another word, she vanished in a burst of flame, leaving only a lingering whiff of sulphur hanging in the air.

Well, the goddess sure knew how to make a dramatic exit--dramatic everything, really.

Maui stared at where she had stood, his mind reeling.  This was supposed to be over!  Moana had put back the heart, Te Fiti was restored, and everybody gets a happy ending, right?  Well, if not a happy ending, then at least a nice vacation before some other crisis.  Didn’t he deserve a few weeks off to enjoy the world after a thousand years stranded?

His heart sank, too, knowing what Pele had been referring to.  There was really only one thing it could have been that he had let fall deep into the earth.  Why, though?  Why this again?  Was there some unseen hand at the rudder putting him through this?  Would that cursed war club dog his steps forever?  Not for the first time, he wished he had never set eyes upon it.

Then there was the rest.  His stomach twisted at the thought.  Pele had told him to seal the pathways to Lalotai to save the surface world.  That would be simple enough to do, really.  He’d closed some of those pathways in the past without much trouble, but if he did that it would doom the realm below the sea.

Maui felt a spike of pain in his chest.

It was just a realm of monsters, though.  Nobody would miss them.  It would be for the best.  The humans would be safer with Lalotai destroyed.  That’s what others would tell him, he was sure, if he dared ask them.  Even Pele seemed to show no remorse for its potential destruction.  For a fire goddess, she was a mighty cold woman.

Maui looked down at his hands, staring with a hollow gaze.

Just a realm of monsters.

It felt like there were bubbles in his blood and a tightness under his ribs as his very being rebelled against the idea of letting all the inhabitants of Lalotai—no, just one of them—perish this way.  No, he could never allow that to happen—never!

There had to be another way.  He was Maui.  Shapeshifter.  Demigod of the Wind and Sea.  Hero to All.  He would find another way.

Chapter Text

Some part of Maui knew what he had to do already.  Nevertheless, he stalled and procrastinated and danced around it as if he really did have multiple options to consider.

In the end, though, he knew he couldn’t let Lalotai be destroyed.  Every time he thought about it—about his estranged friend being swept up with the rest of the destruction—he felt sick at heart.  Despite all that had happened, he couldn’t just let that happen to Tamatoa.  Not when he was supposed to be a hero to all.  Not when he couldn’t erase the distant mental image of his friend as a tiny, adorable crab in the palm of his hand.  Beyond that, the thought that maybe, just maybe, Maui himself might have been partially responsible for their falling out only made it worse.

So, he couldn’t just seal the danger away to preserve the surface world and the mortals at the expense of an entire realm—at the expense of his former friend.  He’d placed the needs of the mortals above all else for thousands of years, but not this time.  He didn’t need to prove his worth anymore to them to feel valued—Moana had shown him that.  He had worth of his own.  He could do both—protect the mortals and his friends.

Maui would just have to go down there and destroy this darkness himself.

That, however, presented another problem.  Maui hadn’t even known there was anything below Lalotai at all, much less a whole other realm within the earth.  He had no idea how he would even find it.  Lalotai itself was a vast realm and he could search it for years without ever finding what he was looking for.  Somehow, he

doubted that he had years to work with on this problem, though.

That left only one option—he’d have to get help.

There was only one creature he could go to on this, of course.  There was never any doubt in Maui’s mind that the crab knew the way.  Tamatoa had a knack for knowing the important details about anything and everything—something Maui had once relied on.  Now he’d have to rely on it again.

That was a considerably more daunting prospect, though.  Confronting the crab monster to steal his hook back was simple and straightforward, however convincing a stubborn, resentful, and angry Tamatoa to help him after all this time was a far different matter.  It would be tricky, to say the least.

He’d deliberated long enough.  There was no sense in putting it off any longer.  Waiting wouldn’t make it any easier.  Perhaps, Maui considered, he would get lucky and find the crab still trapped on his back, giving him some sway towards forcing Tamatoa’s assistance.

With one last glance around the lovely island around him, he sighed and picked up his hook from the sand.  Looks like his fleetingly short vacation was over.  With a flick of the hook and a flash of blue light, he transformed into a hawk and took to the skies.  The island fell away below him and he wheeled to the east where the lonely spire of columnar basalt marked the pathway to Lalotai.

He wasted no time, flying straight through.  He was fortunate that the impossible cliff was near enough to where he started out that no stops were necessary.  It occurred to Maui, though, that he would need to find a new canoe of his own now that he was free and back in the world.  Flying was wonderful, but exhausting to do on lengthy journeys and would prove a limiting factor on destinations farther afield.  Besides, sailing was a pleasure he’d been denied for a thousand years and his adventure with Moana only made him yearn for it even more.

So distracted was he by those thoughts, Maui nearly overshot the towering spire of rock.  He shook off the distraction just in time, however, and landed lightly on the peak, shifting back to his human skin.  Funny, it was only a handful of days since he was last here but it seemed so much had changed in that time.

Well, no time like the present.

With a galvanizing yell, he leapt up to trigger the stone gate, then dove into the swirling purple portal once more.

***

Maui wasn’t sure what he was expecting as he approached the wreckage of the giant spiral shell where Tamatoa made his home.  Perhaps some selfish part of him did hope to find the crab still stuck and in need of help.  At least then he could exert a little leverage to get his help in return—it would have made things easier, to be sure.  It was immediately obvious, however, that such wasn’t the case.  Tamatoa was nowhere to be seen.  Curiously, though, a handful of sparkling trinkets were scattered where Maui had seen the crab fall.  It was unlike Tamatoa to leave his treasures behind and it gave Maui pause.

He didn’t hesitate long, though.  No sense putting it off, no matter how many nerves he had about it.  Maui had no plan, so he’d just have to wing this one.  He swept his hair up into a knot atop his head, adjusted his grip on his hook, took a deep breath, and marched up to the rubble where the glow of warm light lead inside.

There was a fair amount of debris littering the entrance, but enough had been cleared to make a rather large pathway, which was a fair indication that Tamatoa was back on his feet.  Maui approached, keeping alert.  He peered inside and raised his hook, ready for anything—an attack being at the forefront of his mind.

The cavern was empty.

He quickly glanced up, remembering their fateful battle a thousand years prior, but there was no giant crab clinging to the walls above him either.  Maui couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief at that.  It wouldn’t have been a good start to this conversation.

Well, it looked like he really did catch the crab away from home this time.  He’d just have to wait then.  Damaged walls or not, he couldn’t imagine Tamatoa giving up this place.  It was a pretty sweet location, all things considered.  The crab would be back.

In the meantime, he took some time to poke around the lair curiously.  Part of him did wonder what the crab had been up to the past thousand years or so.  So, he wandered the cavern to see what he could discern from the junk laying around.  He picked up and cast aside random baubles that were scattered on the floor or arranged into the chaotic disorder that characterized Tamatoa’s organizational style.  Most were of little interest, just sparkly bits of bric-a-brac—the sort of gaudy nonsense the crab loved and had in great numbers, but held little significance.

Then he pushed aside a heavy, flat stone that was halfway blocking a dark little alcove and stopped cold.  Maui stared, mind reeling back centuries and centuries.

Sitting in the dark little alcove, hidden away amongst other items, was an ancient gastropod shell.  The spiral shell was a faded iridescent tan-gold color with pale white streaks, its once glossy surface cracked and brittle with age.  It was bland compared to the glittering treasures that surrounded it, but Maui couldn’t fail to recognize it.  How could he?  He had given it to Tamatoa when the young crab had still needed to wear a borrowed shell for protection and had outgrown the original one he’d brought with him out of Lalotai.

And the crab had kept it—for nearly two thousand years.

Stunned, Maui reached into the alcove for the shell.  His fingers brushed the fragile surface—

“HEY!”

The growling yell came from behind him and Maui jerked back as if he’d touched fire, spinning around with his hook raised defensively to face Tamatoa.

The monstrous crab stood in the broken entryway, a makeshift sled loaded with what must surely be materials to repair the damaged wall lay abandoned on the ground beside him.  One look at the crab’s face was enough to gauge his mood—Tamatoa was irate.  Then he got a look at what Maui had been reaching for and, if possible, his expression grew even more furious.

Maui quickly tried to whip up something clever to say, but the crab didn’t give him the chance.

“Here to steal from me again?  Haven’t you taken enough?” he snarled.  “Get out!”

He’d clearly caught the crab in a foul mood.  Gone was the jovial malice from their more recent encounter, replaced by something more raw.

“Now, just hold on a minute there,” Maui started, trying for charming, but nevertheless not lowering his hook from its defensive hold.  “I didn’t steal anything—”

Tamatoa cut him off again.  “Liar!  You stole that hoo—”

Now it was Maui’s turn to cut in.  “This hook is mine.  You know that perfectly well!”

“You lost it.  I found it!”  It was a flimsy argument and Maui was sure Tamatoa knew it.

“And now I took it back,” Maui shot back.  “I am no thief!”

Tamatoa gave him a narrow eyed glare, filled with malevolence.  Honestly, Maui was rather surprised that the crab hadn’t moved to attack him yet.  He was holding back.  “That’s not the only thing you’ve taken from me,” Tamatoa growled acidly.

Maui flinched, trying and failing to not look at the stump of a leg on Tamatoa’s left side or think about the war club that precipitated all of this mess.  “Look,” he said, trying to ease this back from the edge somewhat.  “I think we got off to a bad start here.  I’m not here to fight.”

“That hook you’re holding says otherwise,” Tamatoa snapped, giving it a pointed look and flicking his antennae in his direction.

It was a challenge and Maui knew it.  Did he dare set the hook aside to try and have this conversation?  He glanced at his hook, then back at the crab—who was smirking at Maui’s obvious quandary and waiting with sneering expectation to see what he did.

Maui fidgeted.  It was a risk, but he might have to take the chance if he wanted this to do anything other than dissolve into another fight.  He’d just have to assume the risk this time.

Decision made, Maui sighed.  “Okay, fine,” he conceded.  With slow, deliberate movements he set his fishhook on the sandy floor and stepped away from it—leaving as much space between it and himself as he figured Tamatoa would accept, though hopefully not so much that he couldn’t get back to it in a hurry.  “Better?” he asked, holding his hands up placatingly.

Tamatoa’s smirk grew wider, tasting a small victory.  “We’ll see,” he said coolly.  “Now what do you want?”

Well, that was a good an opener as he was going to get.  There was no turning back now, so Maui launched in.  “There are caverns—a whole other realm—hidden under Lalotai.  I need to find a way in.  I’m betting you know how to get there.”

Tamatoa’s antennae twitched and he stared at Maui in disbelief.  “You—you want me to help you?” he sputtered.

Maui had caught him off guard, apparently.  Good, maybe he could use that.  A little flattery always did wonders before, too.  “Well, yeah!  I bet you know all the—”

He was cut off by Tamatoa’s laughter.  It wasn’t a friendly laugh, either.  “Of course I do.  But why?  Why would I ever help you?  After all that you’ve done!”

Ah, well.  Not so off guard after all, it would seem.  “Look, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” Maui said beseechingly.

The crab gave him a cutting glare, fierce and sudden.  “Oh?  What treasure is it this time you’re looking to take back to your dumb humans?” he spat.  “Must be pretty good, huh?”

“It’s nothing like that,” Maui said, defensive.  “Just show me the way and—”

“What’s in it for me?” Tamatoa interrupted, his tone sharp.  “Better make it good.”

So it was bribery, then.  Well, that was usually a sound strategy for getting his cooperation in the past.  Maui leapt on the idea, improvising as he went along.  “Oh, whatever shiny things we find,” he assured, although he doubted there’d be any to find down there.

Tamatoa looked unimpressed, giving him a disinterested and somewhat disgusted look.  He examined one of his pincers casually.  “What else?”

Maui felt like he was close here.  If he could just sweeten the pot a little, he was sure the crab would agree.  “And—and I’ll bring you back some treasures from the surface world, too.  Things you won’t find down here.”

“Hmm.  Let me think.”  A heavy, dramatic pause.  “No.”

Maui stared, blindsided.  “But—”  He had thought he had this in the bag.  Since when did Tamatoa turn down treasure of any kind?

Tamatoa gave him a calculating, narrow-eyed look.  “You’re not telling me something.”

“What?” Maui said, startled.  He’d forgotten how uncannily perceptive the crab monster was when it came to cutting through a  matter.  “No!  I’m—”

“You’re lying.  And you still haven’t given me a compelling reason to help you,” the crab went on.

Maui was getting desperate now, but surely he could appeal to the crab somehow.  Well, he’d try a different course. 

“Hey, c’mon,” Maui wheedled.  “It’ll be like the old days.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Maui realized it was the wrong thing to say.  Tamatoa’s expression went from mildly disgusted to pure, hot outrage before he could blink.  Maui suddenly deeply regretted putting his hook down as the crab lowered his stance aggressively and snapped his claws, stepping slowly towards where Maui stood.

“Like the old days?!” Tamatoa hissed, fury evident in every harsh syllable.

Maui took a step back, hands raised, and glanced to where his hook lay in the sand.  Oh yeah, this had been a mistake.  “Now wait,” he tried, “just hear me out.”

“I’ve heard enough from you,” the crab growled, his eyes following Maui’s gaze to the hook on the sand.

The tension in the air was almost tangible and Maui felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.  He didn’t want to do this again—not another fight.  Maui didn’t even care about saving face at this point, he just plain didn’t want to do this.

Time for an exit strategy.  Tamatoa looked ready to spring and his hook was still in the dirt.  Okay, maybe there wasn’t time for strategy.  Time to run.

Maui sprinted into action, lunging for where he’d left his hook.  In the same instant, Tamatoa rushed forward—clearly aiming to beat him there.  By some stroke of luck, Maui was faster this time.  He reached the hook just as the crab got there.  A heavy pincer descended towards him fast, aiming to crush him where he stood.  Maui snatched up the hook and swiftly shifted, changing to a beetle and zipping to the side just as the heavy claw smashed into the dust where he had just stood.

The crab growled in frustration, eyes swiveling to find where Maui had gone.  He was hard to spot while so small, though, and managed to slip unseen to the demolished wall.  He shifted back to his human skin, standing on the rubble.  Tamatoa’s antennae flicked and he spun around to face where Maui stood.

“C’mon, Tamatoa,” Maui called back to him entreatingly, trying one more time and putting effort into it.  “Please.”  He stressed the word—one that he wasn’t known for using often.  One last ditch effort.  It wasn’t begging, but it was as beseeching as Maui could muster.

“Get out!” was the heated reply.  “And don’t come back!”

Tamatoa made another charge at him, pincers clicking.  Maui needed no further encouragement to leave.  He shifted to a hawk and took to the air, spiraling up and away from the angry crab and heading back to the surface in ignominious defeat.

That hadn’t gone well at all.

***

Maui alighted on the sandy beach at the base of the spire that led back into Lalotai and shifted back to his human shape again.  He dropped down to the sand with a dejected huff, letting his hook fall to the ground beside him. He considered his options.  Maui knew he would have to try again, but first he needed an actual plan.  He just wasn’t sure how to smooth this over, though.  Calming situations down was never his speciality—aggravating them was more his style.  He just didn’t have the touch for it.

A thought struck him and Maui brightened.  He did know someone who could help.  He wasn’t totally alone in this.

Spirits lifted, he grabbed his hook up and took to the skies once more.  Maui wheeled west and headed for the island Moana had told him her people resided on.

The journey took the better part of two weeks.  As freeing as it was to soar on the winds in the shape of a hawk, it was exhausting work for long journeys.  He island hopped his way closer, taking time to rest in between.  Once again, he was reminded that he needed a canoe of his own.  Perhaps he could bargain for one from Moana’s people.

It was a relief when Moana’s island appeared on the horizon—Motunui, she had called it.  It was lush and green, with a towering mountain at its heart.  Tall waterfalls sparkled in the late morning sun, their billowing spray spawning tranquil rainbows.  Brilliant turquoise waters surrounded it in the lagoon created by a thin barrier reef.  He had to admit that it was a nice island.  Maui should know, too—it was with a certain pride that he recognized it as one he had once pulled up.

He zeroed in on the village, circling high above to get a good look.  Moana’s village looked to be thriving, bustling with activity.  Maui was pleased to note that there were several large voyaging canoes along the shore.  Moana’s people were busily working on them, repairing sails, tying rigging, and making them seaworthy again.  Maui smiled, glad to see Moana was getting what she wanted for herself and her people.  She deserved it.

He stayed aloft and circled lower, seeking out Moana’s familiar form from above.  After a few gliding passes around the village, he finally spotted her.  She was sitting on a fallen coconut palm log by the seashore, a woven length of sail across her lap.  To his relief, she was alone.  As much as he enjoyed the attentions of humans, he just didn’t have time to spare.  Besides, he wasn’t ready to face them and start making his amends yet.  That was a task for another day.

He spiraled down towards the shore.  Upon reaching it, he transformed in a burst of blue light to stand on the sand before her, a half grin on his face.

Moana looked up in surprise at the flash, then her eyes lit up.  “Maui!” she exclaimed, dropping the sail she was mending and running to him.

Before he even had time to blink, her arms were around him in a fierce hug.  He returned it gratefully, reveling in the warmth of her affection.

When they parted, she looked at him questioningly.  “I thought you’d be off adventuring and enjoying your freedom,” she said, then quickly amended with a smile.  “Not that I’m not thrilled that you’re here, but I just didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

“Well,” Maui began, scratching his neck.  He stalled, looking for the right way to explain.

One look at his face and Moana knew something was wrong.  “What happened?” she asked, concern in her voice.

He gave her a lopsided smile.  “It’s a long story.  You got a while?”

Moana smiled back at him, the very picture of kindness and understanding.  She sat down and gestured beside her, inviting him to join her.  “All the time you need.”

Maui sat beside her with a sigh, but was silent—staring down at his hands as he gathered his thoughts.

“Tell me what’s going on and I’ll do what I can to help,” she prompted.

So he did.  Reluctantly, he told her everything.

He went all the way back to the very beginning, really—when he first brought a tiny crab monster out of Lalotai—and worked forward from there.  While these stories were not great secrets, he hadn’t really told them to any mortals before—at least not in any great personal depth and never the whole story.  It was strange to recount nearly two thousand years of life to a mortal who wouldn’t see a fraction of those years herself.

Moana listened dutifully, though.  Maui gauged her reactions from time to time as he recounted it all.  He could see she was clearly surprised at just how close a friendship he once shared with the giant crab that had so recently tried to eat her, but she didn’t comment and let him continue.

Her eyebrows raised when he told her about confronting the crab and returning him to Lalotai.  Maui pushed on, not daring to stop now.  If he backed out, he’d never be able to tell the rest of it.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t meet her eyes when he told her about their worst fight—about when he had torn Tamatoa’s leg off.  He heard her gasp, though.  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her eyes wide over the hand covering her mouth.

Maui faltered, but went on.  He told her about the battle that erupted among the villages after he presented them with the cursed war club he had taken from Tamatoa in the fight.  The club had driven them mad with bloodlust, it seemed, and had spurred their conflict on.  He glanced at Moana and saw her eyes were misty with unshed tears when he told her of the devastation and slaughter that had followed.

He expanded on things he’d already told her—of his desire to make amends to the mortals by winning the Heart of Te Fiti for them and how it landed him stranded for a thousand years.  The rest she knew, so he skipped ahead.  He told her about Pele’s ultimatum and what he had to do to stop it.

He left one thing out, however.  He held back from saying that he could easily stop the problem by simply sealing Lalotai and letting it be destroyed.  It was an omission he felt necessary, as humans likely wouldn’t appreciate him gambling the fate of their world on his desire not to see an old-friend-turned-enemy killed.  It was a bridge too far, he thought, even for Moana.

Finally, he ended by telling her about his failed attempt to get Tamatoa’s help.

The sun was low on the horizon now, painting the sky in hues of red and orange.  Moana had listened patiently through the whole story and now she took a long, silent moment to process it.

She took a deep breath and looked steadily at him.  “So,” she began slowly, “Let me get this straight.  You raised him.”

Maui nodded.  “I guess you could say that.”

“Did he really eat his own grandmother?” Moana asked suddenly, perhaps a bit morbidly curious.

Maui smothered a laugh that threatened to bubble up.  “Did you really believe that?  He was just trying to scare you,” he assured her.  “I don’t think he’s ever even seen another giant crab like himself.  They aren’t exactly attentive parents, you know.”

As soon as he said those words, Maui felt weird about them.  He refused to think about why, though.  Moana seemed to catch his awkward expression, however, and lifted an eyebrow.

When Maui didn’t say anything more, though, she let it go and moved on.  “So when he got too big, you left him—a giant crab monster—alone for centuries on an empty island.  Unsupervised.”

Maui looked abashed, but nodded again.

“And you were surprised when things didn’t go well?”

Now Maui winced.  “Well—” he began, then trailed off lamely.  “Probably wasn’t a good idea, yeah.”

“Then you knocked him out and sent him back to Lalotai.”

“To be fair, he was eating people,” Maui pointed out.

Moana nodded, making no excuses for the inexcusable.  “Then you went back and fought again over this war club and ripped his leg off.”

Well, she wasn’t mincing words here.  Maui sighed.  “I didn’t mean for it to go so far.”

“And now he won’t help you,” Moana said, wrapping it all up.

“I tried to bribe him into it, but he even turned down the promise of treasure.”  Maui shook his head, still surprised.  “Wanted a better offer, maybe?”  He shrugged.

Moana looked thoughtful at this.  “Well, you knew him for centuries.  What does he want beside treasure?”

Maui blinked.  “Uh…”

“Surely there’s something,” Moana pressed.  “You were his friend.  You raised him.”

Maui shrugged again, suddenly uncomfortable.  “I don’t know.”  He’d never really asked, he supposed.  Maui had always been more wrapped up in what he wanted for himself and Tamatoa seemed fairly single-minded—always after some shiny trinket.

“Okay,” Moana said, abandoning that line of thought without casting judgement upon him.  She tried a different idea instead.  “Did you tell him why you needed help?”

“Well,” Maui began again, reluctant.  “He didn’t really give me the chance.”  It was a weak excuse.  The crab had given him an opportunity to tell him what was going on and Maui had blatantly ignored it.

Moana gave him a stern look.  With a look like that, she’d make a great chieftain soon enough.  “Go back, tell him the truth.”

Maui fiddled with the ends of the ti leaves around his waist, picking at them with his fingernails.

“Hey,” Moana said gently.  “Do you want me to come with you?”

He looked up sharply and for a moment he seriously considered her offer, but then shook his head.  “No, this is an old fight and I need to settle it myself.”  He smiled at her, “besides, you’ve got work to do here.  A master wayfinder, preparing her people to voyage again.”  The look he gave her was filled with pride for her accomplishment.

She beamed at him, a radiant smile that warmed his heart and helped ease his other worries a bit.  “Is there anything at all I can do to help?  Anything at all?” she offered without hesitation.  Moana was the most openly generous mortal he’d ever known.

Maui paused, then gave her a lopsided grin.  “Well, I could use a canoe.”

Moana smiled again.  “I have just the one.”

Chapter Text

Moana had given him the canoe they had shared on their journey to Te Fiti, despite Maui’s protests that it was far too special a gift and that any of the canoes they retrieved from storage would do.  Over his protests, Moana had insisted.  She would be leading her people from the largest of the canoes—their flagship—and the little canoe would see little use on their voyage.  Besides, she told him, she would be honored for him to have it.

Touched by the gesture, Maui had finally agreed.

He had set out right away.  As much as he would have liked to stay on a few days, he knew there was little time to spare.  So, Maui had exchanged his farewells with Moana and set sail.

As the canoe glided over the barrier reef, he glanced back to wave once more to Moana who watched him depart from the beach.  She returned his wave enthusiastically, but something else caught his eye.  Far behind her, he caught a fleeting glimpse of another familiar figure in the shadows of the swaying palm trees.  Maui’s face fell, his good cheer evaporating in a heartbeat.

A tall woman swathed in dark tapa cloth stood silently in the background, her gleaming eyes watchful and carrying a stern, unspoken warning.  The implication was clear and Pele’s threats were never idle.  If Maui should fail, Motunui may pay the price for his failure.

Well, Maui would just have to make sure that didn’t happen.  With a flick of the sheetline, the canoe surged forward and he sailed on to the gateway to Lalotai.

The journey was uneventful, but he made good time on Moana’s swift little canoe.  In what seemed like no time at all, Maui once again stood outside the enormous shell where Tamatoa made his home.  The crab had been busy in the past few weeks, it would seem.  All the rubble had been cleared away and the wrecked wall of the structure was neatly repaired, reconfigured into some new sort of doorway by the looks of it.  It looked more securely closed than before, too.  Nevertheless, light still spilled from a narrow gap near the bottom.  It was probably meant for ventilation, to get a little fresh air in the place, but in the end it was a gap with plenty of room for Maui to enter.

He took a breath, slung his hook over his shoulder, and started up the path.  The truth.  That was the plan this time.  Maybe this time it would work.

Reaching the open gap in the exterior, he peered in cautiously—taking no chances this time.  He was thoroughly sick of getting caught off guard by the dumb crab.  This time, however, the odds seemed to be in his favor.  Tamatoa was home and, by the looks of things, asleep.  The towering mound of his shell, covered with treasure, was nestled into the sand in the center of the lair—much as it was when Maui had come here with Moana.  Watery afternoon light filtered down from above, illuminating the cavern and reflecting gently off the glittering decorations on the crab’s shell.  It would have been an almost idyllic scene if not for the fact that the sand concealed a giant, murderous crab monster.

Maui stepped inside and quietly crept around to the other side of the sleeping crab.  His face was above the sand, resting on a half-buried pincer and snoozing away.  Long antennae trailed across the ground in front of him and Maui had to step over one as he approached.  Tamatoa actually looked rather peaceful, a stark contrast to when he was awake these days.  Maui stood in front of the enormous face, leaning on his hook and deliberating on how to go about waking him up without things immediately going sideways.  Maui’s usual style of just yelling might be counter-productive at this point.  How would Moana do this?  Hmm.

Well, he’d try for a softer touch for once.

“Hey,” he called tentatively, “Tamatoa.”

No response.

“Tamatoa!” he tried again, louder this time but refraining from shouting.

Still nothing.

A few more tries yielded similar results.  Well, the crab had always been a heavy sleeper.

Maui grinned, a thought occurring to him.  He reached out with the end of his hook and very lightly tapped the crab’s face.  Okay, maybe this wasn’t what Moana would suggest he do, but something in Maui just couldn’t resist.  It was a flaw, but there was no denying that.

Tamatoa’s face twitched and Maui grinned wider.  He did it again, lightly poking at the sleeping crab and then again once more.  Still asleep, Tamatoa lifted a pincer from the sand to rub at this face with a groggy grumble, then settled again.  Maui had to bite his tongue not to laugh out loud.

Well, this was definitely amusing, but not exactly achieving the desired result.

Maui eyed the crustacean contemplatively and drummed his fingers on the handle of his hook.  His gaze fell on the long antennae draped across the sand.  Hmm.  Maybe just a little tug would do the trick.  He reached down.

A changed demigod though he might be, Maui was never known for having excellent judgement.

As soon as Maui’s fingers touched one of the striped antennae, Tamatoa’s eyes flew open and the crab awoke with a jarring start.  Both antennae were whisked from the ground in a sudden upward jerk.  “Huh?  What?” came the immediate, startled response from the crab.  His huge eyes quickly gained focus, fixing intensely on a very guilty looking Maui.  “You!”

Maui jumped back, putting some hasty distance between himself and the crab.  He tightened his grip on his hook, though he kept it lowered for now.  “Uh, hey!” he blurted awkwardly.  Yeah, this was the exact opposite of how he wanted to wake the crab up.

To Maui’s relief, Tamatoa didn’t immediately rise from the sand or move to attack just yet.  He did, however, fix Maui with an affronted glare.  “Rude!” he snapped, lifting a claw to run it lightly down the length of his antenna as if Maui had soiled it with his touch.  “Can’t you keep your hands to yourself?” he said acidly.

He still made no move to attack, so that had to be a good sign.  Better, at least, than the last few times.  Maui gave him a sheepish smile, trying again to turn the charm on.  He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted.

“I thought I told you not to come back,”  Tamatoa said, though with a shade less vehemence and perhaps a hint of resignation.

That was a promising sign too.  If he could wear the crab down, maybe he’d agree without too much fuss.  Truth be told, the crab seemed a bit more mellow this time.  He still hadn’t bothered to get up, his legs still tucked into the sand—though both his pincers were now free of the dirt, something Maui was keeping a wary eye on.  He made no move to snap at Maui, though the demigod wasn’t sure why.  Maybe the crab was just tired.  Whatever the reason, Maui would take advantage of the opportunity.

“Look,” Maui began, picking his words a little more carefully this time.  Setting the crab off again would only make this more difficult.  “You’re right, I didn’t tell you everything.”

Tamatoa rolled his eyes dramatically.  “Surprise, surprise,” he said dryly.  “Let’s hear it then.”

Maui picked absently at the rope grip of his hook as he tried to find a suitable place to start.  Tamatoa watched him with a keen eye, an impatient and expectant look on his face.

The truth.  That’s what Moana had suggested.

“There’s something down there—a darkness that’s threatening to destroy that under realm, then spread to Lalotai, and then the surface world.”  It was an abbreviated truth, but still the truth.  “I’ve got to stop it.  I need to get into those caverns.”

The crab gave him a critical, assessing look, then flicked his antennae nonchalantly.  “Not interested.”

Maui stared, wanting to pull his own hair out in frustration.  The crab was so stubborn.  “Did you miss the part where Lalotai will be destroyed if I don’t stop it?  With you in it, crab cake.”

Tamatoa swiftly narrowed his eyes in annoyance at the epithet, but the look vanished just as quickly and was replaced with one of cultured boredom.  “I’m not worried about it,” he said casually.  He rested his head on a pincer as if he was the least concerned crab in the world.  There was a faint glint in his eyes, though, that Maui couldn’t quite figure out.

Maui felt his irritation growing, though, and he had no interest in analyzing the crab’s idiosyncrasies.  “And why exactly is that?” he demanded.

“Oh, you’ll have to stop it one way or another to save your precious humans, whether you get my help or not.  So why should  I waste my time on you?” he replied, stifling a yawn and eyeing Maui as if he were utterly insignificant.  He closed an eye, leaving the other only half-lidded as it focused on him, looking like he was about to go back to sleep.

Maui couldn’t help letting out an exasperated growl of frustration.  The recalcitrant monster was beginning to wear at his patience.  Then he saw the hint of a smirk pull at Tamatoa’s features—just a brief flickering expression that he nearly missed entirely—and realization struck him.  The crab was playing him.

Maui struggled to keep his temper in check, his fist tightening on his hook again and bringing it slightly up from where he had held it loosely at his side.  Tamatoa was watching him with one half-closed eye.  He was feigning drowsiness, but now Maui noticed that his antennae quivered faintly with an undercurrent of tension and alertness.  Maui thought he heard a faint shifting of sand and he was pretty sure that Tamatoa was more than ready to launch straight out of that sand on a moment’s notice.

With great effort, Maui forced himself to reel his temper in and not get baited into another fight.  He took a breath—and also a big step back, just in case—and planted his hook in the sand beside him.  He leaned against it and gave the crab a level look.  “I need your help.  What’s it going to take, Tamatoa?” he asked, forcing calm into his voice.

Tamatoa opened his eyes, dropping the facade to peer sharply at him now.  “What are you still not telling me?”

“Uh,” Maui stalled.

There was a lot, actually, but the less the crab knew, the better.  He had to tell him something, though—Tamatoa wasn’t likely to drop the subject otherwise.  So Maui picked the least contentious thing in the stack and ran with it.

“Look, it’s because I took the Heart of Te Fiti, okay?”  That was partially true, at least.  “It unleashed a darkness into the world.  The heart was put back, but there’s still cleanup to do and now Pele’s involved…”  This earned him an appraising, narrow-eyed look, but Maui went on quickly before the crab could either say something insulting or inquire further.  “I’m kind of in a hurry,” he stressed.  “There’s no time to go stumbling around blindly down here.  Just—” he faltered, trying to come up with some sort of lure to dangle and falling short, “—just help me out here.  Please.”

Tamatoa looked at him for an interminably long moment, saying nothing and with a completely unreadable expression on his face.  The silence seemed to drag on forever and Maui clenched his jaw.  He was beginning to think this was a lost cause.  Why was he even bothering?  Maybe he should just seal—

“Fine.”

Maui blinked.  “What?  Really?” he blurted without thought, a triumphant smile starting to creep onto his face.

Tamatoa gave him a sideways look, then smirked.  “If you’re fool enough to anger both Te Fiti and Pele, then you’re too clearly too dumb to fix this yourself.”

Maui’s smile slipped away.  He grit his teeth, but let the insult slide.  It wasn’t exactly true anyway and he was getting what he wanted, so it wasn’t worth arguing about.

There was also something calculating in the crab’s gaze that made Maui hesitate.  It was too easy, particularly considering the reaction he’d gotten last time.  He didn’t buy Tamatoa’s insulting reason for agreeing, but he wasn’t sure what the real reason was either.  He’d have to watch his step.  Something else was going on here and until he figured it out, he knew he couldn’t trust his former friend.

The crab shifted suddenly and Maui jumped just a bit, startled.  He took a swift step back as Tamatoa, still wearing a taunting sneer, rose from where he was settled on the floor.  Sand cascaded off his shell and he shook himself to clear the dirt from his legs.  It struck Maui once again how mind-bogglingly enormous the crab really was.  Unbidden, Maui’s thoughts strayed back to a time when Tamatoa could fit easily in his hands.

Things sure had changed since then.

The giant crab monster stepped closer, looming over Maui with a subtle threat in his stance.  “Let’s go, mini-god.”

Yeah, definitely changed.  Maui bristled, but kept his mouth shut.  For now.

Tamatoa turned away and moved off.  He hit the wall with a claw, triggering his skylight to begin closing, then pushed open the newly rigged doorway as the lair dimmed behind him.  Maui followed him out and the crab shoved the doorway shut behind them with a heavily resonating thud, sealing his home up tight.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, Maui tried to rationalize.  They were setting off together on an adventure, after all.  They’d done this thousands upon thousands of times.  It might be fun!  And maybe it would be like the old days.  Despite everything, Maui missed those simpler times.

Feeling optimistic with that in mind, Maui scanned the vividly colored, bizarre terrain around them, then gave Tamatoa a questioning look.  “Well?  Which way?”

The crab gave him an unpleasant smile, looking down on him without even the faintest trace of warmth or nostalgia.  Maui felt his optimism waver.

“Just follow me,” Tamatoa crooned, a glib note in his voice.  With that, he set off down the pathway from the towering spires of his lair and into the wilds of Lalotai.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t going to be like the old days after all.

They walked on with Tamatoa leading the way.  The silence hung thick and nearly tangible between them.  The crab kept to a brisk pace, which combined with his long strides made it so Maui had to hurry to keep up.  It was no hardship for a demigod, but it showed a certain lack of consideration on Tamatoa’s part.  This to, Maui let slide.  He was getting what he’d asked for, Maui told himself again, and it wasn’t worth raising a fuss over stupid little stuff.  It was still annoying.

The silence, however, Maui couldn’t abide.  He didn’t know how far this particular mission was going to take them, but he didn’t intend to pass the entire trip without talking.  Maui was patently incapable of staying quiet that long, even if he wanted to.  Honestly, he was surprised the overly talkative crab hadn’t broken the silence already.  It wasn’t as if Tamatoa was any better at keeping his mouth shut than Maui was.

If this was some kind of game of chicken—seeing who could hold out the longest before speaking—Maui wasn’t interested in playing.

“So,” Maui began, launching in casually as if nothing at all were amiss.  “How are—uh—”  He faltered, searching for something intelligent to say and failing.  “How are things?” he finished weakly.  Maybe he should have come up with something to say before opening his mouth.

The crab fixed him with a withering look.  “Oh, are we going for small talk now?” he began, then adopted a light, chipper tone that was dripping with insincerity.  “How are your crippling self worth issues?”  He smiled nastily down at Maui.

So much for friendly overtures.

Maui grit his teeth, trying not to rise to the bait.  He was better than that now.  He wasn’t going to let the crab push his buttons.  He had worth.  He had value.

Tamatoa’s grin only widened, eyes alight with mean-spirited amusement at Maui’s silence.  “Same ol’, huh?  Well, how about your little vacation?  I hear you spent the last thousand years in timeout.”

Curbing his temper as much as possible, Maui still couldn’t help but glare.  “If you’re going to be like that, this isn’t going to be an enjoyable trip,” he pointed out.

The crab smirked at Maui’s obvious efforts to keep a lid on his irritation.  “Well, I don’t know.  I’m certainly enjoying it so far,” he quipped mildly, indulging in another taunting smile.

Maui’s hand tightened on his hook.  “You won’t be when I—” he growled, but stopped himself—biting his tongue to stop the threat that wanted to roll off it.

Tamatoa didn’t fail to notice and turned his head to give Maui a wide, toothy grin.  “When you what?” he challenged.  “You came to me for help, little man.  Or did you forget already?”

Clearly, Tamatoa was planning on lording that over him.  It was exactly why Maui was reluctant to tell him anything more than he already had about this mission.  It would only give the crab more material to work with—more that he could twist and use against him.  He had not forgotten how Tamatoa had wielded other personal things against him the past several times they had met.  Maui shuddered to think what misery Tamatoa would impart upon him if he knew the only reason he was down here was because he couldn’t stand the thought of the crab being destroyed with the rest of Lalotai.

So, Maui kept his temper reined in and his mouth shut about such things.  He took a breath.  “Are you going to do this the whole time?”

“Probably.”

Maui rolled his eyes and sighed.  “Well, how far is it?”

Tamatoa laughed, but it lacked any warmth.  “Oh, it’s far,” he said, smirking once more.  “Hope you weren’t planning on being home before dark.”

Maui groaned.  Of course it was.  Then he had a thought.  “Well, if it’s that far,” he said, giving Tamatoa a speculative look and a cheeky grin, “how about giving me a lift?”

Tamatoa actually stopped walking, turning to blink at Maui in sheer disbelief.  It was Maui’s turn to smirk now, having scored a point towards throwing the crab off this time.

“You must be joking,” Tamatoa managed to sputter, then regained some of his composure and scoffed.  “I wouldn’t carry your lazy hide if it was painted with gold and covered in jewels.”

Maui shrugged.  Well, it had been worth a shot.  If nothing else, it had stemmed the tide of insults for a moment.  Maui jumped on that to try and steer things back on course as they resumed walking.  “So, what are we going to be dealing with here?” he asked, hoping he could get a straight answer.  “No way this is just gonna be an easy stroll.”

Tamatoa actually looked genuinely amused this time.  “You mean besides the ridiculously long walk?”

“Well, ye—”

Tamatoa didn’t let him finish.  “And the harsh, unforgiving terrain infested with carnivorous foliage?”

“Obviousl—”

“And the patchwork of overlapping territories belonging to all manner of dangerous and pernicious monsters?”

“Sure, bu—”

“None of which will be happy to see you—or me, for that matter—and would love to tear you limb from limb?”

“Uh, well—”

“Not that I blame them,” the crab added as an aside.

“Now, just wait one—”

“And then the untold horrors of the thus far largely unexplored regions beneath Lalotai where even monsters fear to go?”

“Yes!” Maui finally broke in, flustered and trying to get a word in edgewise.  “But I was hoping for some, you know, specifics.”

“You’ll see.”

Maui didn’t like the sound of that.  Tamatoa was being evasive and that didn’t bode well.  The crab was dangerously clever and Maui felt uneasy about what lay ahead of them now.  There was something vaguely off about the crab’s behavior, too—but Maui couldn’t put his finger on it, though.  He had known the crab for so long and thought he knew him well, but he couldn’t figure out what this was.  Was this was just grudge and a thousand years of residual anger or something else entirely?  Either way, he’d have to stay alert.  There was too much at stake to let his guard drop.

They walked on in silence again.  Maui decided maybe he didn’t feel much like talking after all or, at the very least, didn’t want to be insulted continually in lieu of conversation.  Maybe it was best to just enjoy the scenery for a while.

The terrain sloped gently down from where Tamatoa’s home was perched, curving around pulsing pink hard corals, which rose like giant boulders from the ground.  Glowing orange sea fans sprouted from the coralline stone.  Occasionally little arcs of blue sparks would dart along the delicate network of veins in the fans, resembling tiny streaks of lightning.  Maui eyed them warily and made sure to avoid brushing against them.  Lalotai was such a bizarre realm, but it had a certain funky charm to it.  If he survived this debacle, maybe he’d have to spend some more time exploring it.

They had put a fair amount of distance behind them when they finally descended into a narrow canyon of sorts, dominated on either side by towering reefs of colorful stony corals.  It was darker down here, cast into murky shadow by the high canyon walls.  Nevertheless, there was enough light filtering down from above that, when combined with the glowing hues of the coral and vegetation, made it still bright enough to see reasonably well.  Smaller side canyons and gaps were scattered along the walls too, cloaked in deep shadow.  It was indeed narrow, however.  The canyon was barely more than thrice as wide as Tamatoa.

It was shortly after they entered the canyon that Maui noticed Tamatoa had slowed his pace.  At first Maui was grateful, figuring the crab was finally showing a little consideration.  Then Maui glanced up at him and realized that was not the case at all.  Tamatoa was on alert, his antennae flicking out ahead nearly constantly and eyes sharply watchful, peering suspiciously at every large crevice and dark cavern as they moved along.  Perhaps they had crossed some invisible territorial line along the way.  Maui gave Tamatoa a questioning look, but was ignored completely.

Perturbed at being disregarded, Maui spoke up.  “Hey, what—”

“Shhhh,” Tamatoa hissed.

“Don’t you shush me,” Maui retorted, annoyed.  He did lower his voice, though.

“Shut up.  Just shut up for once,” the crab whispered urgently.  “You’ll wake it up.”

“Wake what up?” Maui whispered back.  What could possibly inspire caution in a crab of Tamtoa’s size?

From somewhere nearby there came a low thrumming sound.  The chilling noise rose and fell in eerie waves and cast forth deep subsonic vibrations that rumbled through the ground.  Maui could feel it in his very bones, sending a shiver through him and causing all the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.

Tamatoa’s face fell, antennae drooping in response.  “That,” he replied weakly.

The awful noise rolled through the canyon again, echoing off the coral heads and causing small pebbles to rattle.  Then it was followed by the sound of scrabbling legs—far too many of them, really.  It was hard to determine where the sounds were coming from, as they bounced off the narrow walls of the ravine and were amplified by them.

They didn’t have to wait long to find the source of the sound, however.  There was movement ahead in one of the gaping dark alcoves along the canyon.  Beside him, Tamatoa made a dismayed noise and took a nervous step back, much to Maui’s surprise.

It didn’t take long to figure out why even Tamatoa was concerned.  Emerging from the dark was something out of the worst fever-dream nightmares.  Maui wasn’t even sure how to properly describe it.  The first thing he really registered was a riot of colors, blues and greens and reds and pinks, all shimmering with their own light in the shadows and some flashing from one color to another.  They were splashed across what had to be the biggest mantis shrimp he’d ever seen.  It was nearly as tall as Tamatoa, but longer in length with its brilliantly green tail and fiery red legs extending behind it.  Two arms like heavy clubs were folded against its chest, clearly designed as natural weapons.  Huge pink eyes looked coldly down from bright blue eyestalks and fringed, rainbow striped antennae swayed towards them.  It emitted the low thrumming sound again, now with a vicious upward note to it.  The hair-raising noise grated across Maui’s nerves.

The horrifying creature was blocking the whole canyon ahead of them.  It flexed its club-like arms, then fixed its unsettling eyes upon them.

Maui stared and Tamatoa backpedaled a few more steps.

“Oh.  Oh cr—”

The enormous mantis shrimp lunged.

Chapter Text

Things were not going well.  The monstrous mantis shrimp had darted forward to attack almost immediately, leaving little time to even think.  They were at a disadvantage from the start, hemmed in by the close quarters of the narrow canyon.  In years past, this might not have been quite as daunting a prospect.  Even when Tamatoa had been smaller and Maui less experienced, they had constantly faced overwhelming odds and always prevailed.  However, unlike those days, this time it was clearly a matter of every man—or crab—for himself.

When the creature made its initial attack, Maui broke left and Tamatoa broke right—both cleanly escaping its first lunge and the deadly swing of its club arms.  That was the last moment of even fleeting, inadvertent coordination between the two of them, however.

Maui had quickly shifted to a hawk to get above the shrimp and out of its arm range, but it was largely unnecessary.  The creature was clearly more focused on Tamatoa, who had darted to the side and was trying to maneuver around the shrimp in the tight confines of the ravine.  The two giant crustaceans had circled tensely in the small space.  Perhaps it had decided the crab was a bigger threat.

Well, Maui had no intention of letting it have that misconception long.  With a shrill call, he had folded his wings and dove towards the creature—hurtling towards it at a breakneck pace.

And yet, nothing went right.  There was no coordination, nor communication.  Tamatoa was constantly fouling Maui’s strikes at the mantis shrimp, getting in the way at critical times or drawing the creature out of range just as Maui went to close in.  Of course, Maui was inadvertently doing likewise, if Tamatoa’s irritated curses at him were any indication.

The monstrous mantis shrimp seemed to have caught on to their dysfunction and was quickly turning that to its own advantage.  This, of course, only made a bad situation just that much worse.

In the disorganized chaos, Maui was thrown off by yet another poorly timed maneuver by Tamatoa.  He had been swooping down, talons outstretched, to hammer at its head when the crab had made a sudden swing at the shrimp as well.  Maui veered off at the last second, avoiding the sharp snap of Tamatoa’s pincers.  As Maui swung out of the way, the shrimp managed to clip his hawk form with a glancing sweep of its arm.  It was just a mild blow, but it sent agony shooting through Maui’s body before sending him careening wildly into the canyon wall.  His head slammed hard against the coral.  Dazed by the blow, he lost his concentration and thus his grip on his transformation.  When he slid down the wall to hit the ground, he was back in his human skin.  The shrimp had delivered a shockingly heavy blow and everything hurt.  He was at least grateful that he’d only been barely sideswiped.  The creature packed quite a punch—worse in one mild blow than the entire beat down Tamatoa had given him just a few weeks earlier.  Maui shook his head, trying to clear the cloying haze that had settled on him from the impact.

When he’d regained his wits enough to rejoin the fight, albeit somewhat shakily, his attention was sharpened by the low, shuddering call of the creature—timbre rising in rage.  Tamatoa had it by the tail, though it seemed to be a tenuous grip at best on the feathery fins that fringed the end of the creature’s body.  The two monsters were dragging each other around and it was hard to gauge which one was really exerting more leverage.  The crab was doing everything he could, it seemed, to avoid the shrimp’s front and the lethally dangerous weapons it carried there.

Maui shook his head again.  He ignored the all over ache in his body and the dizziness that sent his head spinning, then shifted back into a hawk once more.  At his high, raptor’s battle cry, the shrimp whipped back around with a sharp, sudden movement to face the oncoming hawk.  Unfortunately, this wrenched its tail free from Tamatoa’s claws, too.  The crab stumbled, overbalanced, and nearly lost his footing, but caught himself at the last second.  He shouted something unflattering at Maui, but it went unheeded as Maui banked sharply around the shrimp to avoid another strike from its club arms.

The shrimp monster turned, following him, but broke off quickly.  Confused, Maui glanced under his wing to see why and braked sharply in the air in alarm.  He’d accidentally lead the creature in a curve around towards Tamatoa, who was now cornered by it in a tight spot of the canyon.

Tamatoa was backed up against the coralline wall, claws snapping at the giant shrimp.  He had nowhere to go, though.  The canyon walls had narrowed to a small funneling side-chasm where Tamatoa was now caught.  The shrimp’s long body effectively blocked him from getting past without having to deal directly with its horrifyingly fast smashing arms.  Tamatoa wasn’t giving up the fight by any means, but even at a distance Maui could see there was a hint of fear in his huge eyes.  Every snap the crab attempted to make, the mantis shrimp countered with a swing of its own weaponry as he forced Tamatoa farther back.  It wasn’t looking good.

Then the shrimp darted forward, lightning fast, in a flash of vivid colors.  With no room to maneuver, Tamatoa had no escape.  He had a look of panic on his face as he ducked his head swiftly, at the very last second.  Then there was a bang like a boulder crashing upon stone, punctuated by a shriek of pain from Tamatoa.  Both sounds rang off the canyon walls like the end of the world was upon them.  The shrimp had missed Tamatoa’s head, but had instead landed a direct hit on the crab’s shell.  For a moment, Maui thought that it had actually managed to crack Tamatoa’s tough exoskeleton.  By some stroke of luck, though, it seemed that the vain crab’s own treasure had managed to save him—absorbing and distributing the force, thus sparing him more serious damage from what was obviously a heavy blow.  Clearly, though, it had not spared him the pain if Tamatoa’s anguished yowling was anything to go by.

Despite whatever pain he was in, the crab retaliated fast and brutally.  He made a decisive, but desperate lunge and grabbed one of the shrimp’s eyestalks with a pincer.  Grasping it tightly, he gave it a hard twist.  Maui knew enough about dealing with monstrous crustaceans to know that going for the eyestalks was a low, dishonorable move.  He also knew Tamatoa well enough to know the crab wasn’t above fighting dirty.

Cheap shot or not, it had the desired effect.  The shrimp let out an unpleasant guttural sound, jerking back a few steps.  It made to strike again, but it had opened just enough space between them for Tamatoa to skitter away and escape the confining crevice.

That was clearly the last straw for the crab, though.  While the shrimp was tending to its injured eye, Tamatoa slipped past it and began a hurried retreat further up the canyon, not even sparing a glance back to see if Maui was coming too.  Maui would have liked to admonish him for abandoning the fight, but the demigod himself was still dizzy and hurting too.  What should have been a simple takedown had clearly gone far off course.  With a glance back at the shrimp monster—still distracted and fussing with its eye—he made up his mind and flew unsteadily after the crab.  At this point, retreat seemed the only sensible option.

To Maui’s relief, the giant mantis shrimp didn’t pursue them as they fled out of its canyon territory and up to the other side.  Nevertheless, he could hear its angry, low-frequency rumble resonating in the very air even after the creature itself was well behind them—an ominous, thrumming warning that echoed in Maui’s ears.

***

Tamatoa was not happy.  The idiot demigod had woken up the terrifying mantis shrimp—a natural predator of crabs, he would have liked to remind Maui, and a bad neighbor that Tamatoa did his best to avoid as a general rule after narrowly escaping its not-so-tender attentions once already a few centuries prior.  Then Maui had nearly gotten them both killed with his showboating and his ill-timed, self-centered, self-righteous—

Tamatoa cut his own thoughts short, trying to rein in his anger.  He had agreed to this fool’s errand for reasons that were his own, but he hadn’t signed on to get himself killed along the way.  Now, however, his whole shell felt like it was on fire—pain spidering out from where the shrimp had struck him.  The only time he could remember ever feeling worse was when Maui had ripped his leg off.  His only thin consolation now was that he was still in one piece, such as it was, and that his shell had not cracked under the blow.  It was a frighteningly close call, though.  Had it not been for his treasure—

His treasure!  Safely out of the canyon now, he paused to look over his shoulder, then let out a gasp.  Many of the items where the shrimp’s club-arm had fallen were utterly pulverized, smashed into nothing but glittering dust.  He let out a short wail of anguish at the destruction of some of his shinies, but cut the sound off quickly lest Maui hear it and mock him for it.  He wanted to stop and take inventory, but even he had to admit that now didn’t seem to be a good time for it.

Particularly since, right on cue, the demigod was approaching.  He was still shaped as a hawk and was wobbling slightly in the air as he flew.  Apparently Maui hadn’t come away from the fight unscathed either it would seem.  Well, Tamatoa didn’t have any sympathy for him.  Not one bit.  Not while he’d nearly had his shell split on that mini-god’s account.

The hawk landed gracelessly and shifted back to a human form with a stumble.  Tamatoa indulged a moment of silent satisfaction upon seeing that Maui looked as rough as he himself felt.  Despite that, he expected some sort of chiding and derision from the demigod about running from the fight, but was surprised when none was forthcoming.

Instead, Maui took a couple steps off the path and sat down heavily.  Well, ‘sat down’ might have been a charitable way of describing it.  It was more like a controlled collapse and some distant part of Tamatoa felt an unbidden twinge of faint sympathy for his former friend.

Of course, then Maui opened his big mouth.  “Yeah, great job back there.  Could you possibly have been more in the way?” he sniped, words thick with sarcasm.  “I got knocked outta the sky because of you can’t pay attention.”

Whatever sympathetic feelings Tamatoa might have been entertaining even at the very fringes of his mind were utterly annihilated.  He couldn’t afford to let himself fall back into those old familiar patterns anyway.  Tamatoa was already agitated and grumpy, with bothersome things on his mind that he couldn’t shake off.  Things had not been improved by Maui barging into his life yet again.  Then his mood had only soured further from the lingering, fiery pain lacing through his shell from the mantis shrimp’s attack.  Now, in addition to all that, he was also being insulted by this pompous little semi-god.  He glared down at Maui.  “Me?  How about you?  That idiotic move of yours nearly got me killed!”

“Well, if you hadn’t been in the way again, maybe you wouldn't have gotten hit,” Maui threw back at him.

“I think you did it on purpose, man,” Tamatoa growled.  “Either that or you’re just plain stupid.  Which is it?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Maui said, getting defensive.  He was back on his feet now, glaring hotly up at Tamatoa.  “Though maybe I should have, for all the help you’ve been.”

Tamatoa scoffed.  “Hey, I had him by the tail until you botched it!”

“Oh, please,” Maui retorted, rolling his eyes.  “You barely had a hold on him at all.  You didn’t need my help to lose him!”

Well, that was true.  He hadn’t really had a good grip on the shrimp, but that was beside the point!  Tamatoa breezed past the comment.  “Maybe you just wanted him to finish the job you started,” he hissed accusingly.  “Break a few more pieces off, huh?”

At that, a look passed across Maui’s face that Tamatoa had trouble discerning—an aberration when usually he could read the demigod so easily.  Maui’s mouth opened and closed without speaking, then the fight seemed to go out of him and he sat back down wearily.

Tamatoa eyed him with suspicion.  He wasn’t hearing a denial.  When Maui finally found his voice again, however, he sounded tired.  “If we can’t work together on this, we’re probably both going to wind up dead,” he said flatly.

Maui’s weariness was contagious and Tamatoa suddenly felt it too—or perhaps it was just fatigue after the fight, he told himself.  Either way, succumbing to the pain and exhaustion as the heat of argument fled him, he sank down to the ground too and sprawled on the dirt with a huff.  Loathe though he would be to admit it, Tamatoa knew Maui was probably right—at least this time.  They had bungled the whole affair with the mantis shrimp.  Honestly, the two of them should have been unstoppable.  In their youth they had faced far worse together and succeeded.  These days, Tamatoa was larger and more powerful and they were both far more seasoned.  It should have been easy, but it wasn’t.

Once, Tamatoa had trusted the demigod completely.  That ship had long since sailed, though.  After all that had happened, he saw no reason to trust Maui even in the slightest.  He didn’t believe a single word the demigod said.  He didn’t know what this whole trip was really about, but Maui was hiding something and that cast his whole story into doubt.  Nothing thus far had given him any inclination to change that, either.  Besides, Tamatoa had made his own plans.  Those irritating spiders had told him to rethink his strategy and that was exactly what he had done.

So he said nothing at all.

***

They loitered there for longer than they likely should have when there were urgent world-saving matters to attend to.  Honestly, though, Maui had needed the break.  It took a while for the all-over body ache and the fuzzy feeling in his head to fade away, but eventually it began to subside to a tolerable level.  He could tell the crab was still hurting too, though he was clearly refusing to admit any weakness to Maui.  The crab eyed him with what Maui assumed was distrust, never fully relaxing.

Did Tamatoa really think Maui would intentionally try to get him killed?  Maui felt disquieted at the very thought.  The whole reason he was doing this was to keep Lalotai—and his former friend—from being destroyed, not that he could dare tell Tamatoa that and give him something else to use against him.

There wasn’t time to dwell on such things, though.  Particularly if it meant Maui would have to actually deal with the issue rather than avoid it.  Besides, they needed to get moving.  While they were clear of the mantis shrimp’s canyon, it nevertheless was poor strategy to just sit out in the open and wait for more trouble to find them.  With that in mind, Maui got got back to his feet—steadier now and without the lightheaded rush he’d felt in the wake of the fight.  Tamatoa’s antennae twitched as Maui moved, then he hurried to rise as well.

Maui looked up at the crab, trying to go for cheerful instead of confrontational to at least maintain some peace.  “Lead the way,” he offered with half grin and a flamboyant gesture of his arms.

The crab gave him a sideways glance, looking for a moment like he had something to biting say.  Whatever it was, changed his mind and instead dipped an antennae in assent.  Tamatoa started off, heading away from the canyon.  He was walking a bit stiffly and at a slower pace now, but without complaint.  Well, Maui wasn’t going to argue with that, as it was easier to keep up with the long legged crustacean now.

Out of the corner of his eye, Maui caught Tamatoa peering intently down at him as they walked.  Caught out, he looked away quickly and acted as if he hadn’t been doing anything.  The crab wasn’t fooling anybody.  Maui frowned, but kept walking and said nothing.

Not more than a few minutes later, however, the crab was staring at him again.  Maui bristled this time, annoyed.  “Okay, what?” he demanded.

Busted, Tamatoa flicked his antennae nonchalantly to downplay it.  “You’ve got a lot more tattoos these days,” he prompted, badly feigning bland disinterest.

Maui glanced down at himself.  Tattoos covered nearly every inch of his skin.  He supposed it was a far cry from the last time they had seen each other as friends.  The question wasn’t necessarily unexpected, as the crab always had an eye for detail.  Maui wasn’t feeling very forthcoming, though.  He shrugged noncommittally, “been busy.”

“Oh yeah?” Tamatoa pried, not satisfied with that answer.  Before Maui could react, the crab had reached over and poked him hard in the belly with a claw.  “What’s that one?”

“Hey!” Maui yelped at the poke.  “Wasn’t it you who said something about keeping your hands to yourself?”

The crab smirked, “well, I don’t have hands.”

Maui snorted.  “A technicality.  You know what I mean!”

“Don’t change the subject, man.  What’s that big one?”

Maui rolled his eyes.  It was pointless to keep arguing and, besides, he did like to show off.  Maybe just a little.  Not to mention that before everything fell apart, he had been eager to share the stories of these exploits with Tamatoa.  So he didn’t see the harm in answering.

“Well,” Maui began, “that one was for stealing fire.”

“You stole fire?”

“Yeah!” Maui said, brightening with the prospect of telling a good tale.  It reminded him of when he first met the crab—who had demanded to hear his stories over and over.  “You see, I had to steal the fingernails of—”

Tamatoa interrupted his story almost immediately, much to Maui’s chagrin.  “And let me guess, you gave it to the humans?” he asked blandly, without even waiting for the details.

“Well, yeah,” Maui replied, as if that should have been obvious.  “So, as I was saying—”

“Is this what you were doing after you dumped me on that island?”

The question cut Maui to the quick.  “Well, I—” he stumbled over his words.  He had been mistaken, this wasn’t anything like when the crab was young and innocently inquisitive.

“Silly question,” Tamatoa said dismissively, with a note of mild disgust in his voice.  He peered at Maui again.  “How about that one?”  He raised a pincer to poke at Maui again, but Maui lifted his hook ever so slightly and the crab aborted the movement and scratched at his chin instead, as if that had been his initial intention all along.  “The one of the little human girl.  Is that the one you dragged down here?”

There was something in Tamatoa's voice that Maui didn't like and he stiffened.  "You mean the one you tried to eat," Maui shot back reproachfully.  "She's not your concern."

As Maui should have expected, the crab zeroed in on his reluctance.  "Oh, Maui's found himself a new friend, has he?" he said with a sly smirk.  "A mortal, even."  Tamatoa stressed the word, not having to elaborate on the implication there.  Moana was mortal and her lifespan was just a flicker compared to Maui's own.

Maui didn't need the reminder.

“Mind your own business,” he snapped back, glaring at the dirt on the ground ahead of him.  Despite trying to let it all slide off him, the crab was starting to get under his skin.  “At least I’ve got a friend.  Can’t imagine there’s anybody who puts up with you.”

It was perhaps a low thing to say, but Maui was growing tired of this constant back and forth and just didn’t care.  Low or not, it seemed to do the trick.  Tamatoa shut up almost instantly.

The silence stretched on for longer than Maui expected, too.  A glance up showed that the crab was looking steadfastly ahead as they walked.  For a moment, Maui almost felt a little guilty for his words and looked for something to say towards walking them back.

Then Tamatoa spoke up and thoroughly ruined that idea.  “What do you even know about being friends?” he said coldly, still staring straight ahead.

Maui felt his temper rise again.  “More than you do!” he blurted impulsively, but then his thoughts inadvertently strayed to what he had found hidden in Tamatoa’s lair and his anger swiftly deflated.  “Look,” he started again, in what he thought was a very reasonable tone.  “I’ve changed.  I’m a different demigod now!”  And he was very proud of that!  He puffed his chest up just a bit.

Tamatoa stopped walking without warning and turned to look down at him with eyes narrowed.  He gave Maui a cool once over.  “Oh really?  You’ve changed?  Could have fooled me.”  This time, there was no mockery or derision.  Tamatoa stated it simply, as if it were just an everyday fact, then started walking again without another word.

But Maui had changed, hadn’t he?  Tamatoa just couldn’t see it, that’s all.  Well, Maui knew that he’d changed.  Moana knew too.  That’s all that mattered.

Why did the crab’s words always burrow so deep into him, though?

***

The watery light from above had rapidly faded into darkness as the day turned to night.  The twilight in Lalotai was strange, without any of the brilliant sunset colors of the tropics.  Instead, the light just gradually disappeared and left a murky gloom in its place, illuminated only by the garish bioluminescent foliage and colorful creatures of the monstrous realm.  In the times Maui had previously visited, he had tried not to remain in Lalotai after the sun went down.  The experience of seeing it this way now was foreign and unsettling.  That unsettling feeling was only highlighted when he looked up at the now dark underside of the sea.  There were no stars, nor any light at all, above him.  Instead, the water-sky seemed to absorb all light like a vast inky void.  Even the ripples of the water were invisible in the dark.  Maui shivered, suddenly feeling very far from home without stars to guide him.

There was a short laugh from not far away and Maui turned to see Tamatoa watching him intently.  The crab’s own bioluminescence was glowing softly in the darkness, casting eerie pale light around him.  “Not what you expected?”

“There’s no stars,” Maui said rather numbly, stating the obvious.

“Of course there aren’t.”

There was something in the crab’s voice that Maui couldn’t quite identify, but at this point he was certain that it didn’t pay to ask.  Instead, he changed the subject.  “So,” he began, drawing the syllable out, “do we stop for the night now or keep going a while more?”

Tamatoa quirked one eye.  “Are you planning on sleeping?” he asked.  It shouldn’t have been a loaded question, but something about the darkly amused way the crab said it was a bit unnerving.

Maui hesitated.  Well, he had been planning on sleeping, but suddenly the thought of sleeping near a giant, murderous monster with a centuries-old grudge seemed less than appealing.

“Well, uh,” Maui faltered, "how much farther is it?”  Maybe they could just walk through the night.

The crab smirked.

“Oh, come on!” Maui grumbled, throwing his hands up in exasperation.  “Why do you have to make everything so difficult?”

“Why would I make anything easy for you?” the crab shot back, still baring his teeth in a twisted smile.

“Can’t we just—” Maui ran a hand through his tangled hair in agitation.  “—I dunno.  Can’t we just call a truce?”

“A truce,” was the deadpan reply.

“Yeah!” Maui continued.  “Look, if it’s that much farther, we gotta sleep.”  Tamatoa looked like he was about to interrupt, but Maui quickly kept going without giving him the chance.  “Even you—don’t think I don’t see you practically limping!  So just work with me here,” he said, a faint pleading note towards the end.

The crab monster looked very much like he wanted to argue further and Maui braced himself for another round, but then Tamatoa shrugged.  Well, he tried to shrug anyway, but couldn’t hide a wince of discomfort.  Obviously, he was still sore from their encounter with the enormous mantis shrimp.

Maui gave him a smug look.  “See.”

“Shut up,” Tamatoa muttered back in a sulk.

In the end, Tamatoa had given in—with much grumbling and muttering, but given in nevertheless.  He’d lead them to what he claimed was a safe place to camp for the night.  Maui was less certain though, as the spot Tamatoa had chosen seemed terribly exposed.

They were in the middle of a vast, mostly flat and tree-less plain with only a sparse few rock formations and no towering reefs.  Low vegetation carpeted the ground in all directions in mottled patches of glowing turquoise and orange.  The plants were knee high on Maui and were more like soft, fleshy corals than actual plants.  They swayed gently together, despite the lack of any breeze and in perfect synchronicity with the other plants.  Maui had reached out to touch one out of curiosity, but it shrank back from his fingers and pulsed brightly with light.  When he’d disregarded its retreat and touched it anyway, it promptly squirted some sticky, foul smelling greenish liquid on his hand.  Tamatoa had seen the whole thing, patiently watching and pointedly declining to warn him.  He had chuckled as Maui recoiled in disgust and tried to wipe the fetid gunk off his fingers.  Maui didn’t touch any more plants after that.

Tamatoa had lead the up a small hill, the only low rise over the otherwise featureless plain.  His eyestalks had swiveled to take in the whole view around them.  Apparently satisfied, he settled onto the coarse dirt and neatly tucked his legs under himself.

Maui gave him a skeptical look, one eyebrow cocked.  “Here?  Really?  Shouldn’t we find some cave or something?  Some sort of shelter?”

The crab looked at him as if he was a particularly stupid child.  “There are no unoccupied caves in Lalotai,” he explained slowly, his voice dripping with condescension at Maui’s ignorance.  “Even if they are empty, it's only temporary.  Do you really want to be woken up in the middle of the night by some creature coming home to find you sleeping in its spot?”

Well, no.  Maui didn’t want that kind of late night surprise, but this still seemed like a poor location.  “Isn’t this a little—you know—open, though?”

Tamatoa gave him a toothy, mocking grin.  “Oh, is little Maui scared?” he taunted, voice pitching higher.  The crab’s smile grew more feral.  “You should worry less about the monsters out there.”

The implication that Maui had more to fear from Tamatoa himself was not lost on him and he shifted his grip on his hook almost involuntarily.  Tamatoa’s antennae twitched ever so slightly, which likely meant he’d noticed the gesture.

“We agreed to a truce,” he reminded the crab, warning in his voice.

“Did we?” he replied with fake innocence.  “Well then, I guess you’re safe for tonight.”  He smiled again, a rather sharp-edged rictus in glowing blue and pink.  It didn’t inspire confidence.

Honestly, he was having trouble keeping up with Tamatoa’s mood shifts.  The crab had always been a little moody, but there was just something off about how quickly he vacillated from one extreme to another on this trip.  It had been more than a thousand years, however, since he’d spent much time with Tamatoa.  Maybe he’d just gotten more—well—crabby in his old age.  Maui didn’t think that was it, though.  He couldn’t shake the feeling, but he didn’t bring it up either.  So far everything he’d asked the crab had backfired on him rather nastily.

When Maui didn’t reply right away, Tamatoa went on, with an unexpectedly genuine explanation.  “The reefs are crawling with monsters at night.  Out here, there’s nothing of concern.  And even if there were, we’d have plenty of warning from this vantage point,” he said with a flick of his long antennae.

With that clearly meant as a final word on the matter, Tamatoa had turned his eyestalks away from Maui to inspect the damaged treasures on his shell where he’d been struck by the mantis shrimp.  Within moments he was fully engrossed in his inventory work and spared no further attention for Maui.

Maui shrugged, mostly to himself, and dropped down to the hard earth.  It was uncomfortable, but he’d dealt with worse.  He laid back, putting his hands behind his head and using his hook as a pillow—not necessarily for comfort, but more out of a lingering distrust for his decidedly untrustworthy companion.

He stared up at the dark, featureless underside of the sea and let his thoughts drift.  It was a darkness more complete than even than nights where clouds blotted out all the stars in the sky in the world above.  It was nights like that where navigation by the stars was impossible and he would have to rely on other methods—like those he’d taught Tamatoa when he was young and small.  Maui glanced at the crab, then back up at the sea.

His tone wistful, Maui spoke up. “Do you remember—”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, man,” Tamatoa cut in, looking up from his task.  “Because it sounds like you’re about to try and appeal to some sense of nostalgia.  And I have none to appeal to.”

Maui felt a stab of annoyance, but then it faded.  He sat up and tossed a sly look to the crab.  “Is that so?” he asked—a leading question.

“That’s right,” he replied flatly.

“Then why do you still have that shell I gave you thousands of years ago?” Maui asked with deliberate casualness.

“What shel—”  Tamatoa began, then stumbled through his words.  The expression on his face was priceless, one of dumbfounded, open-mouthed surprise at being called out.  “I—” he sputtered again.

Then he quickly recovered, but of course the damage was mostly done by then.  His expression hardened anyway.  “A worthless piece junk that I forgot to throw away,” he said with aggressive dismissal, but Maui could hear the lie.

Maui had meant to use it as a way to tease the crab, but there was an incredibly faint, nearly undetectable hint of sadness in Tamatoa’s voice.  Had he not known the crab so well, Maui never would have known it was there.  He did notice it, however, and suddenly he didn’t feel right about using it as a weapon against his former friend.

“Tamatoa,” he began hesitatingly, as a flare of guilt welled up within him.  “I— look, I’m—” he trailed off, uncertain.  What was he going to say?  He wanted to make that nagging feeling of guilt go away, but didn’t quite know how.

“You’re what?” came the sharp reply, shattering those thoughts.

Irked, Maui closed his mouth.  “Nevermind,” he finished with a snort.

“That’s what I thought.”

Maui laid back down, staring blankly back again at the odd sky above him and saying nothing more.  Tiredness descended upon him, but he’d have to outlast the crab.  Falling asleep first just wasn’t an option.  Not for the first time, he wished things were like they were eons ago—when he didn’t have to fear treachery from his old friend.  So far, this whole day had been like a grotesque parody of their adventures together centuries ago and it ached to think about what used to be.

Eventually, the sound of Tamatoa rummaging through his treasures tapered off and ceased.  A glance over confirmed that the giant crab appeared to have finally gone to sleep.  His antennae were held alertly, though, rather than laying relaxed.  The crab may have been asleep, but he was only sleeping lightly.  Clearly, Tamatoa didn’t trust Maui any more than Maui trusted him.

Nevertheless, Maui let himself drift into an uneasy sleep.

Chapter Text

Maui awoke slowly and groggily, wondering why the sun still wasn’t out yet and why the air was so cool and damp.  Then he opened his eyes, his vision filling with bizarre colors and surreal terrain, and he remembered where he was.  Well, he thought as he came awake, the crab hadn’t killed him in his sleep.  So, he supposed he was thankful for that small boon at least.

He sat up and looked around.  Where was Tamatoa, anyway?  The crab was nowhere in sight.  Had he decided to just abandon Maui here instead?  Maui wouldn’t put it past him, honestly.

He was about to start getting really indignant when he spotted movement at the edge of the plain surrounding their hilltop.  It would appear the crab hadn’t left him here after all.  Tamatoa was sauntering back towards the hill, looking rather pleased with himself.  He was also stuffing some unidentifiable thing into his mouth as he ascended back up the hill to where Maui was now standing.  Ah, of course.  The crab’s priorities were pretty predictable, food being near the top.

Tamatoa reached the top of the hill and stopped, fastidiously licking the last traces of blood from whatever hapless creature he’d killed off his claw.  Once, such a thing would have and had made Maui uncomfortable.  Somehow, though, it seemed less jarring here against the weird backdrop of these wild surroundings.  Or perhaps it was just to be expected from an overwhelmingly huge crab monster, rather than a friend, and therefore not so out of place anymore.  Either way, Maui was less worried about those details and more concerned about his own growling stomach.

“Well,” he said dryly, “I see you’ve had your breakfast.  You bring anything for me?”

Tamatoa scoffed.  “Get your own,” he told him, although with less rancor than the previous day.  Food tended to put the crab in a better mood, Maui remembered.

“Hey, I don’t know what’s safe to eat down here,” Maui pointed out.

“That’s hardly my problem.”

Maui stifled a growl of frustration.  Apparently they were going to start the bickering bright and early today.  He opened his mouth to say something biting in retort, but then the crab surprised him.

“Here,” he said bluntly and tossed Maui some sort of odd, spiky fruit.  Where had he been keeping that?  Maui hadn’t even noticed he had it.  “In the interest of keeping your very annoying complaining to a minimum,” Tamatoa hurried to say, lest the gesture be misconstrued as any friendly overture.

Maui caught the fruit, wincing as the sharp points of its hard exterior dug into his hands.  It was like no fruit he’d ever seen before, nearly as large as his head, colored in a sickly yellow-green shade, and covered in short spikes.  He looked at it, then back up at Tamatoa.  “What is this?”

The crab shrugged.  “It doesn’t have a proper name, but it’s safe to eat.”  Tamatoa peered at him with one eye.

Still slightly suspicious, Maui split it open and immediately regretted it.  As soon as the thick skin of the fruit broke, a horrendous stench assaulted his nostrils.  The fruit stank like rotting garbage, mixed with the odor of an open latrine and that of moldering seaweed exposed at low tide.  It was quite possibly the worst thing he’d ever smelled.  “Augh!!” he swore, then glared at the crab, who was trying and failing to hide a smirk.  “You brought me rotten fruit, Tamatoa,” he barked accusingly.

Now the crab was openly snickering, clearly enjoying this.  “It’s not rotten,” he said, trying not to break into full guffaws.  “That’s how it’s supposed to smell.”

“This isn’t funny,” Maui said.  “I am not eating this!”

“You will unless you want to go hungry,” the crab said between badly controlled snickers.  “You said it yourself, you don’t know what’s safe to eat down here,” he said, throwing Maui’s own words back at him.

“This is not safe to eat!” Maui said, aghast.  How could the crab, whose senses were far more acute than Maui’s own, even tolerate this reek?

“It is,” Tamatoa insisted.

Maui stared down at the fruit in his hands.  Inside its spiked exterior was a thick, creamy substance.  He looked back up, more than a little skeptical.  The crab was watching him expectantly, biting back a giggle.

He was absolutely certain now that Tamatoa had decided that making Maui miserable was his new goal in life.  Nevertheless, Maui was hungry.  The thought of putting this smelly, disgusting gunk in his mouth was enough to put him right off though.  He was queasy at the thought.

He was about to stubbornly refuse when Tamatoa very quietly said something under his breath.

"Chicken.”  It was a challenge and Maui couldn’t walk away now.

Reluctantly and wincing in disgusted anticipation, Maui scooped a dollop of the awful stuff onto his finger.  He wanted to shoot Tamatoa a glare, but couldn’t muster one up through his growing nausea.  Instead, he scrunched his nose, held his breath, and gingerly put the goop in his mouth.

It was delicious.  It was the foulest smelling thing he’d ever encountered in his very long life, but it tasted like sweet ambrosia.

“What the—”

“Told you,” the crab said smugly.

Then Maui began to laugh, despite himself.  This was one of the wickedest jokes the gods could possibly have played—creating a fruit that smelled like death but tasted like heaven.  As something of a trickster himself, he could appreciate the irony.  Maybe if he survived this, he’d take some back to the surface world to plant.  Perhaps the humans could use it as a test of bravery or some such.  At the very least, he’d enjoy watching their faces change when they ate it.

Then he came out of his thoughts and realized that Tamatoa was laughing, too.  It wasn’t one of the mocking, hate-filled laughs he’d indulged so frequently in of late either—it was a genuine laugh.  Maui looked up at him.  He wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure what he could say that wouldn’t shatter the fragile moment of camaraderie.

Then the moment was gone and Tamatoa turned to start down the hill as if the brief flicker of good humor had never occurred.  “You’ve got your breakfast now.  Let’s get going,” he said brusquely, walking off with the expectation that Maui would follow.

***

They walked on in relative peace for most of the morning.  Tamatoa continued to make snide comments from time to time, but they weren’t as frequent as the day prior.  Maui began to feel hopeful that maybe the crab would come around on his own, sparing Maui any serious effort towards getting his ongoing cooperation.  There was still a great deal of uncomfortable silence between them, though.  More and more, Maui found himself missing the days when they traveled together in good company—laughing and joking with easy familiarity.  Why couldn’t it just go back to that?  Why did it have to be so complicated?  He ruminated on this in the heavy silence, lacking much else to occupy himself with.

The sun was directly overhead when they reached the base of a massive, rough-hewn cliff.  It seemed to go on for miles in either direction—an imposing wall of slate-grey rock extending out of sight. Despite it’s overwhelming height, it was layered with enormous, flat ledges that lead upwards like tiers on an irregular natural stairway—if the stairs were scattered at random across the cliffside, that is.  Off to the east, Maui could see a broad sheet of water that cascaded down the rocks from somewhere above and, upon reaching the ground, formed a narrow creek that meandered off into the canyons.

Maui gazed at the cliffside contemplatively.  He glanced at Tamatoa.  “We climbing up this?”

The crab gave him a thin, sharp-edged smile.  “That’s right.”

“Shouldn’t we be going down, not up?” he asked, dubious.

“The entrance is on the other side,” Tamatoa assured him smoothly.  “You want to go around instead?  That’ll take weeks.”  Then his voice turned back to needling mockery.  “Too high for you, demigod?”

Affronted, Maui snorted and shook his head. “No,” he retorted, although it may have come out as a somewhat defensive denial.

The crab smirked back at him, but said nothing.  Then he approached the craggy rocks and started to climb.

Not one to be left behind or outdone, Maui hurried to follow suit.  He looped the crook of his fishhook over his shoulder, then started up.

Even with a missing leg, Tamatoa made it look easy to climb from tier to tier on the rocky cliff.  Of course, it helped that the crab himself was nearly as tall as the steps were high.  He picked his way up slowly and deliberately, however, taking care in choosing where he placed his legs.  That suited Maui fine, as it gave him time to keep up as he scrambled up from ledge to ledge.  Despite the slower pace, they made good time, all things considered.

Maui had resigned himself to more traveling in sullen silence, but now Tamatoa surprised him by being unexpectedly chatty.  As they climbed, the crab rambled on about the nature of this part of Lalotai—how it was one of the older areas, but rarely explored, and running on about the types of creatures living in the vicinity.  Maui actually found himself smiling a little at it all.  Maybe Tamatoa finally was coming around.  The reduction in insults hurled Maui’s way certainly seemed like an encouraging sign, at least, and so did this sudden burst of comfortable chatter.

Clambering up the final ledge, they arrived in a vast, open clearing upon a wide plateau.  The ground here was solid stone, without a layer of soil to soften it.  Nor did the flat, slick rock offer any foothold for plants or other foliage to take root.  Nevertheless, despite the lack of trees, there was a thick litter of dead leaves—their formerly glowing colors extinguished and faded to muted, desiccated tones—and other detritus scattered in a thick layer across the flat expanse, punctuated by several huge, flattened slabs of rock at odd intervals.  The giant stones slabs were so orderly that it almost seemed as if they were deliberately arranged.  At the rear of the clearing, a massive stony wall rose all the way to the rippling underside of the sea and was honeycombed with dark, shadowed caverns.  From somewhere nearby, perhaps draining down from the ocean itself, he could hear the gurgling and bubbling of water flowing like an incoming tide.

Maui glanced at Tamatoa, hoping for an explanation for the strange setting.  The crab’s expression was neutral and somewhat disinterested, but his antennae were tipped far forward, their ends just barely touching the ground far ahead of him, and there was a hint of tension to them that was at odds with his casual demeanor.  Maui looked back around the clearing curiously, wondering what he the crab was sensing.  When he looked back to Tamatoa, however, the long antennae were relaxed and nothing seemed amiss.  Maui shrugged it off, figuring there must not be a threat ahead.

“So,” Maui drawled.  “Is this the place?”  It didn’t look like an entryway to another realm and Tamatoa had said it was on the other side of the cliffs, but he supposed it was a possibility.

Tamatoa flashed him a toothy grin.  “We’re close,” he assured.

“Well, what’s all this stuff?  What is this place?” Maui asked, gesturing at the weird clearing.  Tamatoa could always be counted on to know obscure trivia and minutia and Maui was actually rather curious.  He set the end of his hook loosely on the ground, leaning his weight against it lightly, and looked up at the giant crab monster with expectation.

The crab stepped closer with a few sweeping strides.  “This place?” he began, adopting an old familiar tone that he once used quite frequently when explaining some noteworthy detail or another.  “There are giant isopods in the area.  They tend to,” he paused, “arrange things, I suppose.  This is a favorite spot for th—”

There was no warning.

Smoothly breaking off mid-word, there was a blur of motion from the crab monster and suddenly Maui felt himself toppling sideways—taken completely by surprise.  His hook had been knocked out from under where it was propping him up by a fast sweep of a claw.  Maui barely registered as it clattered off across the rock, skidding over the edge they had just climbed up and tumbling back to the ground below.  For his part, Maui was too busy falling to think about that, however.  With the same fluid movement, the crab had kicked him in the back, sending him reeling across one of the patches of leaves and dried foliage.  Then the ground fell away and he was tumbling through the air with dead leaves fluttering around him.

It had been a trap.

He fell for what seemed like an eternity, then landed hard in a shallow puddle.  His breath rushed out of him with a whoosh, leaving him winded and dazed.  There was a clatter of sticks around him as the primitive frame for the leaves that had hidden the pit rained down as well.  When he got his breath back, he stumbled to his feet with a groan and looked up.  He was stuck in a massive—truly massive—hole in the ground.  It was quite wide, large enough to accommodate most monsters of this realm.  The sides appeared to be solid, smooth stone, glass-slick and high beyond his ability to jump.

Looking down over the edge of the huge pit was Tamatoa.

Only one word came to mind.  Betrayal.

***

Well, that was easier than he’d thought.  Tamatoa had honestly expected more of a fight, but apparently he’d succeeded in lulling the demigod into a enough of a false sense of security on their climb that he’d let his guard down.

He’d known these pitfall traps would do the trick, too.  They had actually been built by the isopod monsters living in the area, as he had been in the middle of explaining.  The creatures lacked formidable fangs or claws or any effective offensive weapons at all, so instead they relied on these traps to catch and store the monstrous prey of Lalotai’s depths.  Tamatoa had come across them once before and had very nearly fallen in himself, so they had made a big impression.  Thankfully, the isopods were usually dormant around this time of year so he’d be able to make use of their traps without interference.

By now, he’d realized that he wasn’t going to beat the demigod in a straight up fight.  That smug spider had been right—he needed a new tactic.  So, when Maui had come back again, with a fresh collection of lies, and insisted he go on this ridiculous snipe hunt, Tamatoa had quickly thrown a plan together.

He leaned over the edge, peering down at the stranded semi-god.  It was dark down in the hole, but there was enough light to see the spectre of impotent outrage burned into Maui’s features.  There was little Maui could do about it, though.  The sheer sides of the pit were too slick for climbing and too high for jumping without a magical assist.  With that accursed hook safely out of the demigod’s hands, he could do little more than glare ineffectively up at Tamatoa—a captive audience.

Tamatoa told himself that he had every intention of just leaving the demigod here for the isopods to take care of when they awoke from their slumber.  Nevertheless, he wanted answers first.  What had Maui been keeping from him?  What was this really about?  Plus, he just couldn’t resist taunting his quarry—just a little.

“Well, well, well,” Tamatoa drawled down to him, incapable of keeping the smug triumph out of his voice.  “You fall for some of the dumbest things.”

An angry growl of frustration and rage drifted up.  “You two-faced, traitorous, bottom-feeding—” Maui trailed off, clearly searching for something bad enough to call him, “—ocean roach!”

“Oh, you wound me!” Tamatoa called back down, affecting a mockery of deep hurt.  Then he dropped the false hurt tone and smirked down.  “Since you’re going to be holed up down there a while,” he paused briefly to let his pun sink in, but when no satisfying reaction was forthcoming, he huffed and went on, "you might as well start talking.”

“Talking?!” Maui yelled back to him, fury straining the edges of his voice.  “Talking about what?!”

Tamatoa narrowed his eyes and glared back down into the dark hole.  “Whatever it is you’re not telling me, man.”

“I told you everything!”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, why should I tell you anything,” Maui shot back fiercely.  “You tried to eat me, you miserable scavenger!”

“Well, technically it wouldn’t be scavenging if I—”

Tamatoa never got to finish the very clever and penultimately witty comeback he was about to deliver, as suddenly there was an unexpected and very hard shove from behind him.  His legs splayed, grabbing at the slick rock beneath him, but the ground was too smooth to get a firm grip upon or get any traction at all.  Thus he was pushed, legs scrabbling desperately but ineffectively, over the edge.  “Hey!  Wait!  No!” his shocked yelp echoed in the pit as he fell.  He caught a fleeting glimpse of his attacker—an enormous crustacean, like a monstrous pillbug with more than half a dozen pairs of legs, a long segmented body, and a fan-shaped tail.  Sinisterly slanted silver eyes, eerie without any pupils, caught the light like a mirror.  It was colored a blotchy pale purple, like a bloated corpse adrift at sea, and had a network of thin, reflective silvery lines in convoluted designs across it’s body.  It chittered down at him gleefully.

Apparently the isopods weren’t in hibernation after all.

Tamatoa hit the bottom with a resonating thud that shook loose a hail of gravel from the edges of the pit above.  He came to a stop, wedged uncomfortably on his back which was leaning against the smooth, curved side of the pit.  The curl of his tail was on the ground, resting in a chilly puddle of water.  A few of his treasures were dislodged and tumbled with muted plops into the shallow water beneath him.  As he regained his senses, he could see Maui pressed against the opposite wall to avoid being crushed by his fall.

It was a narrow miss, too.  The pit may have been spacious for a single human-sized demigod, but it was a very tight fit for a gigantic crab monster.  Even once he could manage to get upright, he’d safely clear the sides with the edges of his shell, but would have to keep his legs rather close beneath him in the confined space.  Of course, that was assuming he had any legs left by the time he got turned over and the look on Maui’s face didn’t bode well in that direction.

The demigod’s expression was one of mixed fury and betrayal.  Well, Tamatoa thought bitterly, at least now he knows how it feels.  For an instant, it looked like Maui was about to take a leap towards him, but whatever he was going to do was interrupted by a ponderous scraping sound.  Tamatoa looked up just in time to see the light vanish as a heavy stone slab was pushed over the pit by one of the chittering isopods, plunging it into darkness.

His own bioluminescence glowed to life, illuminating the dark chamber.

For a moment, neither of them spoke and the only sound was the quiet sloshing of water from the puddle they were both in.  Tamatoa’s upended legs moved slowly, idly in the open air.

Then the silence was broken when Maui roared, “you idiot!  Look what you’ve done!”  His voice was amplified by the rock walls.  It was loud enough to make Tamatoa wince, his antennae twitching in discomfort.

Before Tamatoa could come up with an adequate reply to something that he really couldn’t defend all that well, the demigod had climbed up onto him.  He stood on Tamatoa’s exposed underside, leveling a glare at him thick with accusation.  “I am trying to save—”  There was a tiny flutter in his words, barely noticeable and not even enough to be considered a misstep or stumble.  “—the world here!  And you get us stuck in this filthy hole in the ground!”

“Get off of me!” Tamatoa demanded, kicking his legs in the air and swiping at Maui with a claw to dislodge him.  Hook or no hook, he didn’t want the demigod standing on him in such a vulnerable position.  After all, he hadn’t needed his hook to tear a leg off before.  Tamatoa’s attempts were in vain, however, as his legs couldn’t quite reach him and Maui was able to easily get out of the way of his claws.  Stymied, he let out a growl.  “C’mon man, what are you really after? I want the truth!”

“I told you—” Maui began, but Tamatoa cut him off.

“You’re not telling me everything and I know it!” he insisted.

“Look, I—”  Maui suddenly stopped mid-rant.  “Hey, do you hear that?”

Tamatoa glared.  “Don’t change the subject!”

“No, seriously.  Listen!”

It was likely just a distraction and Tamatoa opened his mouth to argue further, but then actually did hear something:  the fast trickling of water.

Then there was a cold swirl of water around his abdomen and the shallow pool beneath them began to get slowly deeper.

“Uh,” Tamatoa said, putting the argument aside for a moment.  “I think there’s water seeping in here.”

“How much water?”

“Just a little.”

“Then I’m sure it’s fine,” Maui said curtly, then launched right back into his tirade—using the interruption to veer away from the questions about his intentions.  “Like I was saying, I can’t believe you would do this!  I’ve got important things to do!  And you agreed to help!  And then you pull this stunt?  What is your problem?”

His anger pricked back up, Tamatoa forgot about the water and gave Maui a sharp look as he rejoined the fight.  “My problem is you!  You dragged me off on this fool’s errand—without even telling me what it’s really about—expecting me to just cheerfully help you after everything you’ve done.  And for what?  Another ‘heroic deed’ for your stupid humans?  So you can go brag to them and feel better about yourself for a little while?  You’ve been doing it for centuries and yet it’s never enough, is it?”

That seemed to hit a nerve, because Maui’s face darkened.  “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Oh, I do,” he replied, venom in his voice.  “All you care about is impressing them to ease the sting, even though it was humans that abandoned you in the first place.”  Seething anger bubbled up.  “I stuck by your side, though, and in return you ditched me first on that island and then exiled me here!”  Then he hissed out a scathing accusation, “the fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree in your  family, does it?”

Maui bristled and there was a visible struggle on his face as he tried to keep his temper in check.  “You can’t hurt me with that anymore,” he insisted.  “I’ve changed.  I’ve—”

“Oh, you’ve changed?” he simpered in mockery.  “What, did that little human give you a pep talk and now you’re changed?  I don’t buy it.  Do you even remember this one’s name?”

Indignant, Maui jumped to his own defense.  “Her name is Moana and she showed me that I’m more than just my hook and more than just what my parents—”

That launched a tirade and Maui droned on about his own self-righteousness and his miraculous transformation into a better demigod.  Tamatoa tuned him out, however, as he suddenly realized the water was getting considerably deeper in the chamber now—inching its way up his tail at a faster pace.  There was a slight tang of salt in the air.

“Uh, Maui,” he tried to break in.

“—and then she told me that I was worthy of—”

“Hey Maui, man,” he tried again, more forcefully.

“—and that what makes me Mau—”

“Maui!” he finally shouted, his voice echoing in the closed chamber.

“—what?” the demigod demanded, angry at being interrupted in the middle of what was apparently supposed to be a rousing speech about how monumental his change was.

“The water’s getting deeper.”

“Huh?” came the perplexed reply.  Maui, still standing high and dry on Tamatoa’s underside, stepped gingerly across his body to look down.  The water was now sloshing at what would be neck deep on the demigod.  “Uhoh.”

“Yeah.”

“Where’s it coming from?” Maui asked.

Tamatoa snorted.  “How should I know?  I’m not exactly in a maneuverable position at the moment.”  He wiggled his legs in the air for emphasis.

Rather than help remedy that situation, Maui instead ran up along his body and climbed up his neck instead.

“Hey!  What are you—?!  Off!” Tamatoa sputtered, affronted, as Maui practically stood on his head.

The demigod wasn’t listening, though, and was looking for a handhold on the walls—using Tamatoa as a sort of springboard to get higher up.  It was useless anyway, even with Tamatoa’s additional height, there was no reaching the top.  Even if they could, there wasn’t enough leverage to move the stone lid away either.  Nevertheless, Maui was still jumping up and down on him, trying to climb higher.

That was the last straw.  It was bad enough having the demigod stomp all over his underside like he was nothing, but using him as a ladder was just too far for Tamatoa’s patience.

With a grunt, he flexed his tail, pushing up with great effort from where it rested on the ground and sliding his weight against the wall behind him.  Maui yelped at the sudden movement and was thrown off, landing with a splash in the growing pool of water.  It wasn’t easy, but Tamatoa managed to lever himself back upright.  He knew he’d be feeling that one later, though—his abdomen simply wasn’t meant to support his weight that way.  Regardless, it was better than being stuck as he was.

His legs splashed into the water, held as close as possible to his body in the tight quarters.  He had to draw his pincers in close, without much room to maneuver even now that he was upright again.  The water was still rising, too, and nearly came to the top of the first segment of his legs.

Maui was treading water, unable to touch the bottom.  “Oh, that was helpful!” he shouted up at Tamatoa.

The temptation to just push the little demigod under until he drowned was suddenly very hard to resist.  Tamatoa told himself that the only thing stopping him now was the fact that the last time he’d tried to pin Maui down for more than a few seconds, he’d lost a leg.

So, instead he gave Maui a withering look.  “You couldn’t climb that wall anyway.”

“I wouldn’t need to climb it if you hadn’t gotten us trapped in here!”

Tamatoa scowled.  “Well, maybe if you would just tell me the truth, this wouldn’t have been necessary!”  That was a poor argument, perhaps, but that’s all he had.

The water crested the first segment of his legs, still rising.

“I am telling you the truth!”

“But you’re leaving things out!”

This circular argument was getting them nowhere and now Tamatoa was starting to get nervous about the relentlessly increasing volume of water.  Drowning in this pit was starting to look like a distinct possibility.  He never should have agreed to come with Maui.  What had he been thinking?  Getting revenge wasn’t worth dying for.

Maui shouted something vague in reply, but Tamatoa ignored it.  He just wanted to get out of here.  He ran his antennae along the walls, looking for anything that might serve as an escape.  They were utterly smooth, though—no cracks or imperfections that could be used as holds.  Even for him, the top of the circular chamber was far out of reach and the walls were far too slick to climb.  This was not good.

Maui’s voice broke into his thoughts.  “You’re not even listening to me!”

The water continued to creep up the second segment of his legs.

“We are going to drown in here!” Tamatoa snapped, trying—and likely failing—to keep the beginnings of panic from slipping into his voice.

“And whose fault is that?” Maui shot back, which was supremely unhelpful.  Under the accusation and bravado, however, Tamatoa could detect a faint hint of fear and strain buried in the demigod’s voice as well.

Ignoring the indefensible, Tamatoa scraped at the wall with his claws—trying to get some sort of traction, but they just slid ineffectively off like fishoil over water.  With a growl of frustration, he slammed them full-force into the wall.  The entire cavern rattled and Maui, who had been swimming along the walls trying to find a foothold of his own, let out a startled shout, but the walls themselves were unharmed.  There was no way out.  He’d chosen this trap well.  He just hadn't counted on falling into it himself, too.

Nor had he anticipated the water, which lapped now against his edges of his tail where it was tucked under his body.

Okay, maybe it was about time to start panicking.  Already on edge, he flinched, startled, as Maui climbed up his leg.  The demigod hauled himself out of the water and up onto Tamatoa’s shell.  Tamatoa recovered from the surprise quickly and turned his eyestalks to glare back at him.  “Don’t believe I invited you up there,” he said acidly.

“Considering this is your fault, it’s the least you can do!”

“My fault?  Who insisted we come down here?”

“I told you, Lalotai will be destroyed if we don’t—”

Tamatoa cut him off in exasperation, sick of this charade.  “You really expect me to believe that?”  He didn’t believe it, either.  Why should he when Maui was obviously not being upfront about something?  “It’s always about the humans with you.”

“Not this time!” he said defensively.  Maui was increasingly agitated, running a hand through his wet hair.  “What is wrong with you?  I know you’re mad, but this—”  He gestured broadly around them. “—is ridiculous!”

“Oh, what do you even care?”  Tamatoa growled, though it sounded a bit petulant even to himself.  “Eugh, I can’t believe I’m going to die here stuck with you.  All so you can impress some more humans.”  Bitterness welled up in him and his tone turned biting.  If he was going to die in here, he was going to get the last word in.  “Were they impressed with your story after you maimed me and left me for dead?  Bet they loved that!”

Maui actually looked completely stricken at that, a look of sickened guilt on his face that Tamatoa would never have expected.  Then something seemed to snap in his expression and he let out a drawn out guttural sound of frustration.  “I’m not doing this for the humans, you idiot.  I am doing this for you!” he bellowed, the words ringing off the stone walls around them.

Startled by the outburst, Tamatoa could only stare as the words began to bubble out of the demigod unchecked in a rapid fire deluge.  “Yes!  There is a darkness down there!  And yes, it is my fault!  You know that Pele told me to just seal the entrances to Lalotai and let the whole realm be destroyed?  Sacrifice it all to save the surface world.  The only reason I’m even down here is because I didn’t want to see you get killed with the rest of it!  But now I’m starting to think that might have been a mistake!”

For a long moment, Tamatoa was stunned into silence and just stared at him, blinking in shock at Maui’s sudden revelation and trying to make sense of it.  There was no disguising the bare truth in such raw words and, this time, Tamatoa believed the demigod’s confession.  Why would Maui even do that, though?  Why would he—?

Then the cold water crept higher, reaching his underside, and Tamatoa’s control of his own temper shattered.  “Oh, you suddenly care now?  Where was that concern when you tore my leg off?!”

Emotions high, Maui responded in kind, “you were trying to kill me!  What did you think was going to happen?!”

“You were the one who barged into my home and robbed me!  What did you think was going to happen?” he echoed back hotly, all pretense of composure rapidly vanishing.

There was no stopping the flood of words now from either of them—flowing as surely as the rising water, which was steadily swirling up towards the edges of Tamatoa’s shell.

“I sure didn’t think you would bring up my parents,” Maui said, his voice an anguished snarl. “I trusted you!  I told you my worst secret and you used it against me!  They threw me away and you said it was because I was nothing!”

“This coming from someone who said I was just a crab!” Tamatoa retorted sharply, the words pouring out heedlessly.  “Guess it was easier to ditch me if I was just a crab.  Just some monster who outgrew their usefulness, huh?”

“You outgrew the boat!  What was I supposed to do?”

“Visit!” he roared, suddenly shouting and causing vibrating ripples to spread in the water around his body from the sound.  “You were supposed to visit!  You swore you would!  You lied!”

Before Maui could get a word in for his own defense, Tamatoa snapped his pincers sharply in warning to shut him up, the sound echoing harshly.  He would dearly have liked to just grab Maui and snap him in half, but it seemed a pointless effort since the water would do the job on them both soon enough.  Besides, he wanted to finally have his say.  Indeed, he couldn’t have stopped himself from going on even if he tried.

“You had your humans and their worship, but all I had was you.  And you left me there and forgot about me!  Then you dumped me back here!  Alone!”

“You were eating people!  And Lalotai is far from empty.  Quit obsessing over all this shiny junk and go find some other crabs if you’re so lonely!”

Something twisted inside Tamatoa like a knife blade at that.  “There aren’t any others!” he shouted, the words abruptly torn from him without thought.  “They’re all long gone and I’m the only one left!”

The words hung in the air and he immediately regretted saying them, but there it was.  There was the thing that had been bothering him, lingering at the edge of his mind ever since the spiders had laid that heavy truth on him.  He’d never gone looking for his own kind, but he had always assumed there were others out there and that he could find them if he had wanted to.  Knowing there was no one else was a terribly isolating feeling that just kept eating away at him.  His entire species was long dead and the only friend he’d ever known had betrayed him.  It was a loneliness that he just couldn't shake.

Maui was staring at him with an unreadable look.

Then the water crested over the lip of his shell.  To keep his head above the water, Tamatoa quickly reared up to brace his sole front leg and one of his pincers against the wall, propping himself a little higher above the water.  Maui clung to his sharply tilted shell, scrambling not to fall off.  The water was climbing still higher, though.  Tamatoa had bought himself more time by raising himself up against the wall, but there was no escaping the inevitable rise of the water.

Tamatoa looked back over his shoulder to the demigod, who was struggling to hold on.  “Oh, what does that even matter?  Crabs aren’t meant to have families.  But for a while I really thought that you were my family,” he said, the words fierce, but ringing hollow.  They were going to drown in here, so there was no reason to hold anything back now—no matter how painful.  Then the deeper, bitter fury surged back up.  “And you betrayed me, disfigured me, and left me to die.”  The stump of his missing leg twitched at the memory and suddenly all Tamatoa wanted was to get the demigod off of him.  Bracing his claws against the wall for balance, he shook himself roughly.

Caught unprepared for the sudden shimmy, Maui lost his tenuous grip and tumbled down his shell with a yelp.  He landed into the water with a heavy splash.  He disappeared under its surface and didn’t come back up right away.

Fear beginning to take control, Tamatoa went back to desperately clawing at the wall again, trying to get any sort of purchase on it at all.  He scrabbled against it with both pincers and his one remaining foreleg, but it was useless.  Well, this whole plan had certainly backfired spectacularly.

The water had covered his shell and was swiftly creeping up his neck again when the demigod surfaced with a gasp beside him.  Tamatoa glared at him resentfully and he opened his mouth to say something nasty—one last parting shot—but never got the chance.

“Ta-Tama—” Maui sputtered, breathing heavily from what was apparently quite a long breath hold under the water.  “There’s bubbles—”  He paused again, taking another gasping breath.

“Bubbles?” Tamatoa echoed, confused with panic now fully engaged.  “We’re going to drown and you’re talking about bubbles?”

The water rose higher and Tamatoa had to strain to keep the majority of his face above it.

“No—”  Maui rasped out.  “At the bottom!  I think there’s a way out—”

“Wait, wha—?” Tamatoa barely managed to sputter, spitting saltwater from his mouth as it rose ever higher and made it impossible to talk.

Then the water closed over his head.

Chapter Text

Tamatoa was trying desperately not to panic, but with the water over his head now and no way out, he was decisively losing that battle.  Then Maui appeared in front of his face, suspended in the water and gesturing emphatically towards the bottom.  It was hard to focus, though, with the reality of drowning so near.  He stared with wide, but uncomprehending, eyes at the demigod for a handful of heartbeats that seemed like an eternity.  Then Maui gave him a look that held an old familiarity from across the centuries.  Almost as if by instinct, Tamatoa broke out of the terror that had paralyzed him and followed the line of Maui’s gesture.

Drifting up from the floor of the pit, illuminated like shining pearls by the glow of his bioluminescence, was a steady stream of bubbles.  The bubbles were emerging fast, swirling upward in a spiral, indicating a large pocket of air somewhere beneath the floor—perhaps even an entire open area given the volume of the bubbles rising up.

He looked back to Maui, who was pantomiming a scooping motion with his hands.  Then the demigod dove down towards the bottom.  It was tight quarters, but Tamatoa managed to quickly drop back to the ground, then shift around to a better position and lower himself towards the pit’s floor.  He spied the spot where the bubbles were flowing out.  Maui was already there, scraping at the dirt rather inefficiently with his little hands.  Tamatoa nudged him out of the way with a claw, then he began to dig.

Frantically, he clawed at the spot with both pincers, moving huge clods of dirt and rocks with every stroke.  The water quickly clouded with silt, making it impossible to see anything even with his own natural light gleaming in the dark chamber.  He couldn’t see Maui anymore.  He just kept digging, though, as if his life depended on it—which it surely did.

The need for air was growing more pressing.  If he didn’t get out of here soon, that was going to be the end of it.  His vision was getting a little fuzzy, oxygen deprived as he was, and he became rather disoriented.  His digging grew erratic as he lost focus and a floaty feeling settled on him—as if everything were happening at a great distance.  Then he felt something grab ahold of the short spines on the back of his neck—it could only be Maui.  Regardless, it grounded him to reality enough that his mind sharpened and he redoubled his efforts, digging with everything he had left.

As darkness started to edge around his vision, his claw suddenly broke through something unseen below and everything began to happen in a blinding rush.  His pincer punched through into air, then a thick mass of bubbles raced up around him.  Before he could even register that, the ground he was standing upon shook and began to disintegrate—cracks spiraling out from where he was digging.  In the very next instant, he fell through the weakened floor and was tumbling downward through the dark in a chaotic torrent of water and rocks and mud.  The descent seemed endless.

Then he was dumped out into the open air, coughing and sputtering and gasping when he landed and everything finally stopped.  He was out of the pit!  He could breathe!  He was alive!

Tamatoa was sprawled in the wet sand, legs splayed in all directions, head resting on the ground, and his whole body utterly covered in mud.  Maui was clinging to the back of his neck, hacking up seawater and breathing hard.  For a long chain of moments, they both just remained as they were—catching their breath and simply relieved to be alive.

It was Maui who recovered first, slipping down from where he had been holding onto Tamatoa’s neck and dropping back to the ground.  The demigod was just as filthy as Tamatoa was, streaked with mud and dirt and looking as battered as he felt too.  Of course, it was more than just the physical hurt of being tossed about on the way down.  That was the easy part to deal with.  Far worse, however, was that Tamatoa felt raw and exposed.  Everything was out in the open now and there was no putting it all back.

The demigod was looking around, taking in where they had ended up.  Tamatoa took a moment to lift his eyes to glance around as well.  They were back at the base of the cliff they had so recently climbed, near where water was cascading down from the rocks into a winding stream.  There must have been some sort of underground river running down from above—a conduit which they apparently rode down when the pit’s floor broke apart.  His gaze drifted back down and he realized Maui was looking at him now.  From the expression on his face, it seemed as if the demigod was building up to saying something, which Tamatoa took as an indication that it was time to get out of here.  Too much had been said already.

So Tamatoa got up, swiftly but wearily lifting his bulk off the ground.  Maui took a quick step back, but whether it was to give him space or because he expected an attack was anybody’s guess.  Tamatoa didn’t even turn to look at him, though.  “That’s it, I’m done,” he said flatly and with finality, then began to trudge away without looking back.  This had all been a mistake and he was ready to just go back home, preferably forgetting any of this ever happened.

He hadn’t gotten very far when Maui called out, “Tamatoa.  Wait.”

He wasn’t going to stop.  He didn’t want to discuss what had been said in that pit, with death seeming a certainty and everything laid bare.  All Tamatoa wanted was to walk away with whatever remained of his dignity, but there was a note in Maui’s voice that made him hesitate.  Reluctantly, he turned around.

The demigod had taken a handful of steps after him, but was stopped now at a short distance.  He actually looked rather abashed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.  “Look, I—I thought—in there—” he began, obviously reaching for words and coming up with nothing but a jumble.  Whatever it was, he was having a difficult time getting it out.  “—uh.  The things I said.  Well—”

“Spit it out,” Tamatoa said tiredly, antennae flicking impatiently.  The faster Maui got to the point, the faster he could get out of here and try to somehow put this all behind him.  He’d just have to try to forget Maui existed—because clearly revenge wasn’t working out the way he—

“I’m sorry, okay?” Maui blurted at last.  It sounded like it must have taken considerable effort to say.

Tamatoa drew back, antennae sweeping upward in surprise.  “You’re sorry?” he echoed in disbelief, the words sounding so foreign coming from the demigod.  Was Maui really, truly apologizing?  Then Tamatoa’s eyes narrowed slightly, suspicious.  “Sorry for what exactly?”

“Uh… everything?” Maui supplied tentatively, with a hopeful half-grin that was clearly meant to be endearing.

Tamatoa wasn’t going to be hornswoggled by any amount of charm, though.  “Be more specific.”  If this was supposed to be an honest apology, he wanted details.

Maui absently ran a hand through his filthy hair, then sighed and dropped the charming act.  To Tamatoa’s continued surprise, the demigod put aside any semblance of braggadocio and spoke with what seemed like actual earnestness.  “I’ve made mistakes, I know,” he began.  “I meant to come back to your island, I really did.  I just kept getting distracted—yes, by humans.  I shouldn’t have waited so long.”  He let out a short, stilted laugh.  “I guess I realized just how lonely—and maddening—that could be after being stuck on my own island for a thousand years.”

Tamatoa could only stare.  There were dozens of barbed comments he could level at the demigod right now.  They were all waiting right at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t really find the will to say any of them.  The fight had gone out of him for the moment.

Apparently Maui took his silence as a prompt to continue.  “You’re right, I did just what I’d always hated my parents for doing.“  He winced.  “I abandoned you there and I’m sorry.”

Tamatoa blinked, still rather dumbstruck.  He started to say something, but Maui gently cut him off.

“That’s not all,” Maui went on, now looking quite uncomfortable.  He stared down at his hands for a long moment, transfixed.  Then he looked away—looked anywhere and everywhere, really, except one place—but his avoidance only made it more obvious what it was that he didn’t want to look at:  the scarred stump of Tamatoa’s missing leg.  “I didn’t mean for things to go so far.  With—you know—your leg and all.  Afterwards, I was horrified at what I’d done.  I almost went back right then and there to—well, I don’t know what, really.  I couldn’t undo it by then.  I know you may not forgive me, but I am truly sorry.”

Maui really did look honestly apologetic, too.  He was looking down at his toes, his shoulders slumped wearily.  In all their years, Tamatoa had only heard the demigod apologize once before.  Of course, that was when Maui had first left him on that rotten island and it hadn’t exactly panned out well in the end.  Now, however, he had apologized multiple times in one conversation—and apparently genuinely, too.

Tamatoa faced a quandary now.  There was a small part of him, deeply buried beneath centuries of animosity, that did miss the way things were so long ago.  However, there were also those centuries of animosity to contend with as well.  It wasn’t lost on him, though, that the animosity hadn’t really done him any favors.  He’d been dismembered, flipped, and now nearly drowned over his thirst for vengeance.  If he kept this up, he was going to end up dead.  He’d only narrowly avoided it this time.

He could keep clashing against the unyielding rocks, but that would get him nowhere.

“I waited for you, man.  Waited for ages on that island,” Tamatoa said wearily.  “Watched for you every day until I realized you weren’t coming back.”

Maui winced.  “I always meant to—”

“But you didn’t,” Tamatoa cut in, though without the explosive anger of before.  “Humans were always more important to you.”

“Well, not this time,” Maui said firmly.

Tamatoa quirked an eye.  “Pele really told you to seal Lalotai off?”

Maui nodded ruefully.  “Yeah.”

He huffed.  “For a fire goddess, that’s pretty cold.”

At that, Maui’s lip curled into a half smile.  “That’s what I thought, too.”

Tamatoa squinted down at the demigod, trying to gauge his honesty.  “And you decided not to.” He left the statement hanging in the air.

The demigod looked up at him, clearly picking up on the unspoken question embedded in those words.  “I meant what I said.  I know we’ve had our problems—”  Oh, that was putting it mildly.  “—but I never wanted you dead.  I couldn’t just seal you in to die now.”

There was that earnestness again.  Maybe Maui had changed at least a little.  Despite everything, it poked at things long buried for Tamatoa.  Maui was really doing this for him?  That distant part of him wanted to cling to it, but he was older and less naive now.  Maui might be telling the truth and might mean what he said in this moment, but that didn’t mean the demigod could be trusted to keep his word in the long run.

“You should have just told me, man,” he said finally.

Maui snorted.  “If I had, you’d have just used it against me.  Like everything else I’ve told you.”  He said it without anger, but there was a mix of hurt and accusation in his tone that Tamatoa couldn’t miss.

It was true, of course.  He had expertly wielded Maui’s secrets against him with a cunning brutality.  Yet, he remembered when the demigod had first told him about being thrown away by his parents.  Back then, their friendship had seemed stronger than any familial bond.  So much had changed since then.  Nevertheless, he felt a pinprick of guilt—a feeling he was completely unfamiliar with.

He sighed heavily, antennae drooping slightly and eyestalks sagging.  “You’re right,” he said, although it was dragged out of him with great reluctance.  “It was probably in—uh—poor taste to bring up your parents.  That was pretty low, I admit.”  Even if it was true.  “So—well—I’m sorry for that.”

Maui stared at him as if he’d grown a second head.  “Are you apologizing now?”

“Uh.  I guess?”

“Well, is that all?” Maui asked, an expectant look on his face.

Apparently the demigod felt he was owed more apologies.  Well, that might be fair.  Tamatoa took a moment to think about it.

“Uh, well, sorry for getting us stuck in that pit,” he said.  That had been a dumb plan, even he could see that.  “And for trying to kill you.  Three times.”

“You tried to eat me,” Maui pointed out archly.

“Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

It had, too.  Revenge and a snack, who could argue with that, really?

Maui snorted.

Tamatoa ran through his memories, trying to figure out what else Maui might be expecting to hear, since the demigod still seemed to be waiting.

Then he felt that little stab of guilt once more.  “And I’m sorry for saying you were nothing.”

From the look on Maui’s face, that wasn’t the expected response, but it didn’t appear to be an unwelcome one either.

Then Tamatoa’s own words surprised him.  “You raised me, Maui.  You were my friend.  You were never nothing to me.”  Perhaps it was because he was feeling so raw from their close brush with death and the unfettered argument that had preceded it, but the words just bubbled out  without thought from somewhere long forgotten.  There was no retrieving them once said.

Maui seemed taken aback.  When he found words, they were tinted with a faint sadness.  “You were my friend, too.  Not just a crab.” 

Tamatoa’s antennae twitched at that.

Then Maui looked up at him tiredly.  “How did it all come to this?” he asked with a somewhat dramatic sigh.

“I think we just covered that, actually,” Tamatoa replied dryly.

Maui cracked a smile at that.  Then his expression turned more cautious.  “Are you still leaving?”

Tamatoa hesitated. That had been his intention, but—

“You’re telling me everything this time, right?”

Maui’s smile wavered just slightly, as if he was hurt by the continued doubt.  “Of course.”

Tamatoa considered his options.  He could walk away and wash his claws of the whole affair, but that would mean entrusting this all to Maui and hoping he could successfully fix this mess on his own.  It was a risky proposition, leaving it to Maui alone.  Tamatoa might be willing to accept an apology, but that didn’t mean he trusted the demigod with his life and the survival of his home.

He flicked his antennae, resolved.  “Then let’s do this,” he said finally, though he wasn’t terribly thrilled about it.

Maui brightened, a look of happiness dispersing the weight of the preceding conversation like wind sweeping storm clouds away.  “Great!” he said eagerly.  “It’ll be just like—”

Tamatoa quickly cut in.  “Don’t say it,” he said firmly, though without much vitriol.  “I accept your apology, man.  But don’t think this makes us friends again,” he warned.

Curbed, Maui’s face fell a little.

“But I’ll help you with this,” Tamatoa went on.  “Just this once.  And only because you’d probably just mess it up on your own anyway.”

The beginnings of a scowl were tugging at Maui’s lips now, but he seemed to keep it in check.

“So let’s—eugh!”

“What?” Maui asked, startled by the outburst.

Tamatoa had looked at himself, glancing over his shoulder to assess the state of his collection.

“I’m filthy,” he said, bemoaning the mud covering pretty much every part of him.  He had probably lost bits of his treasure too, he thought dejectedly—though he didn’t dare say that in front of Maui and face his inevitable scorn.  He’d have to do another inventory to see what he lost in the fiasco with that pitfall trap.  He glanced at the demigod.  Now probably wasn’t a good time.

Maui was attempting to conceal his laughter behind a hand, but was failing miserably.

Tamatoa gave him a half-hearted glare that slowly morphed into a smirk.  “Go ahead and laugh.  Have you looked at your hair?”

A comic look of alarm crossed Maui’s face.  He ran his hand through his hair quickly and it came away soiled with dirt and muck.  He apparently hadn’t noticed before, too absorbed in airing all their mutual grievances to worry about more trivial things like hair care.  Now, however, the demigod looked at the gunk with disgust.

Tamatoa was already on the move, though.  The nearby tumble of water down the cliff face, where they had so recently been flushed out, provided a decent enough flow to rinse off under—even for a crab his size.  He stepped into the salty spray and let it wash the dirt off him.  It felt nice, too, and for a moment he just let himself enjoy it.  It might be the last comfort for a while, he figured.

***

Maui watched the crab go to rinse off, his mind reeling from everything that had transpired.  He had very nearly died in that pit, before ever facing whatever horrors and dangers awaited him in the cavernous under-realm beneath Lalotai.  And for what?  All because they couldn’t get it together.  All because of a friendship gone bad.  The whole world would have paid the price for it, too.

The thought made his stomach twist.  How much chaos and disaster had been unleashed because the two of them were quarreling?  He hadn't really thought about it before, but the gravity of it seemed to settle on him after they escaped the pitfall trap.  If not for their feud, he’d never have gone after the Heart of Te Fiti.  How many islands and people had been devastated by that escapade?  The realization dragged on him like a heavy weight in that moment.

His mind had drifted then to Moana and her island, so very nearly taken by the destruction he had unleashed.  Well, Moana would tell him to put it right.  She would tell him that the task wouldn’t be done, even after the darkness below was destroyed, when the root of it all was still festering.

So, he’d resolved to start putting it right.

The first step was difficult—apologizing.  Well, no one had said it would be easy.

Besides, there was no unsaying what had been said in that death trap.  It was all out in the open now.  At least, most of it was anyway.  He had left out the bit about that cursed war club, though he felt a twist of guilt at hiding one last thing.  It was an admission he just wasn’t prepared to make just yet, though.

Nevertheless, even he could recognize that apologies were long overdue.  Though introspection wasn’t always his forte, some part of him finally had to admit that if he’d done things differently eons ago it never would have come to this.  Not that Tamatoa was an innocent party either, but Maui’s own choices had definitely pushed things down the wrong path.  He could have corrected their course so many times, but he hadn’t bothered.

He’d been genuinely surprised that Tamatoa had made apologies in return, although he couldn’t help but notice the lack of any apology for the unknown numbers of shipwrecked humans he’d eaten on that island.  Nevertheless, it was a start he supposed.  He had still been disappointed that the crab hadn’t warmed up to him more after Maui had delivered his apology.  A growing part of him wished he could somehow have their old friendship back.  Maybe his sense of loneliness had just been sharpened by a thousand years in isolation, but he missed the easy camaraderie they once shared.

At the very least, though, he hoped these apologies would discourage further treachery.  Even if friendship was a bridge too far, they still needed to be able to work together enough to get through Lalotai to this gateway at a minimum.

Well, he’d do what he could and hope for the best.

With that in mind, he joined Tamatoa by the waterfall to rinse the muck off himself off as well.  Once clean, he looked up at his former friend.  The crab was still standing under the water’s spray, his eyes shut and a rather placid look on his face.

“Tamatoa,” Maui called out and the enormous eyes slit open and turned down to look at him.

“Eh?”

“Let’s go.  Gotta find where you threw my hook,” Maui said conversationally, playing it down in the interest of keeping peace rather than leveling it as an accusation, “and get moving.”

“Right,” Tamatoa said, not really bothering to look ashamed for what he’d done.  He stepped out of the water.  “Probably that way,” he said, pointing a claw off towards the base of the cliffs.

“We gonna have to climb up all that again?” Maui asked as they headed in that direction.

Tamatoa responded with a smug half smirk.  “Nah.”

“So you took us up there just to get us trapped?” Maui asked, unable to hide his exasperation.

“I took us up there to get you trapped,” the crab replied, still smirking.  “There’s a difference.”

Maui rolled his eyes.  “Figures.”

His hook was easy to find, thankfully.  It had tumbled down the cliff and was laying, unharmed and undisturbed, in the sand near the base of the rocks.  Retrieving it from the ground, he slung it over his shoulder and glanced back at Tamatoa.  “So, which way are we really going?”

Maui couldn’t help but notice that Tamatoa eyed the hook in his hand with a touch of wariness, no doubt anticipating retaliation despite their shared apologies.  Nevertheless, he flicked an antennae in a fresh direction—leading away from the stony cliffs.  “That way,” he said.  He looked back to Maui, with an expression somewhere between abashed and wry.  “Uh.  For real this time.”

“Better be,” Maui muttered, but followed the crab anyway as they started off again through the wilds of Lalotai.

The terrain began to shift again as they left the cliffs behind.  They entered a widely spaced forest of giant barrel sponges, some of them taller than Tamatoa.  They glowed and pulsed with brilliant, enticing red-orange hues, though the light seemed to emanate from within their vase-like shapes rather than the typical surface glow of Lalotai’s strange wildlife.  Maui couldn’t help his curiosity and itched to know what was inside the sponges to cause the light, but it was impossible to see from the ground.  Maybe if he—

“Don’t do it,” came Tamatoa’s voice, breaking into his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“The sponges.  Don’t mess with them.”  Apparently the crab had caught him eying the odd scenery.

“Why?”

“Because there’s nothing good in there,” he warned.  “And I don’t want to have to dig you out of one when you get caught in it.”

Maui raised an eyebrow with a grin.  “So you’d do that, huh?”

Tamatoa snorted softly.  “Only because otherwise I’d have to wait for some other bullheaded demigod to clean up your mess if you get yourself eaten by the local wildlife,” he said, but there was actually a faint touch of humor behind his words.  “But, then again, if that’s what you’re after…”  He flashed Maui a toothy grin.

“Oh, ha ha,” Maui said, deadpan.  “I’ll pass.”

He could swear he heard the crab snickering under his breath.

Changing the subject and steering away from the crab’s more disturbing dietary proclivities, Maui asked, “so how much farther?”

“Not much farther.  We’ll get there today,” he assured him.

Maui gave him a dubious look.  “What about all that talk about endless monsters and everything else?”

Tamatoa smirked.  “What, you haven’t had enough close calls already?”

“Well, yes.  But—”

“Hey man, I’m the most dangerous monster between here and there,” he boasted, grinning broadly.  “So don’t you worry your little demigod head.”

“And what about in the realm underneath?” Maui asked pointedly, quirking a brow to cut through the crab’s bravado.

Tamatoa’s swagger faltered.  “Well, uh—”

“Where even monsters fear to go,” Maui generously provided.  “That’s what you said, right?”

“Did I say that?  Well—uh—maybe some monsters fear to go there,” he said dismissively, though he didn’t sound as confident as he must have intended.

“Uh huh,” Maui said with a knowing smirk.

“Anyway,” Tamatoa filled in quickly, covering his stumble with bluster.  “Like I said, it’s not too much farther.  We’ll get there soon enough.”

***

It was late in the afternoon, if the distorted shape of the sun on the other side of the sea was anything to go by, when they finally did reach their destination.  As promised, they had encountered no further challenges on the way down.

The terrain had been sloping down ever since they left the isopod’s cliffs.  Once they had exited the sponge forest, they began descending into darker chasms of jagged, porous rock—twisted into a variety of tormented forms.  The glowing vegetation also grew sparse, thinning out to just a handful of weird tube-like plants with pale white stalks and bright feathery fronds at the top which glowed a sinister red in the shadows.

Though there was still light shimmering down from above, this place was mostly bathed in shadow.  Maui could see the faint outlines of Tamatoa’s bioluminescent markings as they passed from shadow to shadow, rising out of his normal coloration despite the dim remnants of daylight.  Whether it was the shadows or nerves that brought the markings flickering to life, Maui couldn’t tell.

It was a suitably ominous atmosphere, particularly given the gravity of Maui’s task, and when they reached the entrance to the cavernous world below Lalotai, it certainly lived up to the sinister promise of the surrounding area.

It was quiet here, as if even the most brazen wildlife of Lalotai did indeed fear to tread in these environs.  Twin spires of twisted rock marked the spot, flanking an enormous cavernous opening in a wall of dark stone.  The opening lead into a tunnel, slanting downward steeply into the earth.  From deep within the wide tunnel, a harsh green light glowed and flickered—much like the purple glow of the entrance to Lalotai itself.

Tamatoa was eyeing the entrance warily, antennae tipped forward and quivering slightly.  To say he didn’t look enthused about being here would have been an understatement.  So much for his boastful words earlier.  Maui elected not to tease him, though—particularly when he felt more than a little uneasy as well.

“You—uh—” Maui called over to him.  “You ever been in there before?”

Tamatoa gave him a sideways glance.  “No.”

“How’d you find this place, anyway?” Maui asked, genuinely curious.  It didn’t seem like something he would have sought out willingly.

“By accident.  I was looking for—” Tamatoa’s eyes swept from the haunting green light of the entrance to glance briefly at the hook in Maui’s hand, then his gaze darted away.  “—I was looking for something else.”

Maui raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment.  He wondered how far the crab really had ranged to retrieve his hook, but it wasn’t really important at the moment.  There were more pressing matters at hand.  “Any idea what’s in there?”

“No idea,” Tamatoa replied.  “Probably nothing good.”

Maui rolled his shoulders and adjusted his grip on his hook, steeling himself for the task ahead.  “Well, I’ll let you know when I get back.”

“Uh, I don’t think so.”

“What?  You’re not going to wait to see if I make it out?” Maui asked with a snort, feigning hurt.

“No, I’m not,” Tamatoa stated plainly.  “I’m coming with you.”

Maui turned, thunderstruck.  “Wait, what?”

Tamatoa fixed him with a narrow-eyed look, leaning down to bring his face closer to Maui.  The crab certainly was comfortable using his size to intimidate these days.  It seemed to come natural to him now, even though some of the air had been cleared between them.  “You’ve already managed to raise a ruckus with Te Fiti and get on Pele’s bad side and unleash some unspeakable darkness on the world,” Tamatoa said.  “So, I’m pretty sure you are completely incapable of doing this on your own without wrecking more things.”

Maui went to object, but Tamatoa continued, backing off to give Maui a bit more space again.  “Besides, if you botch this then it’s my home that gets destroyed.  No, I’m definitely going.  Someone has to make sure it gets done right,” he said, a touch of smug bravado back in his voice.

Maui could have argued, but he figured he might actually need the help this time.  “Well, then let’s get this over with.”

He looked into the ominous green maw of the cavern, then summoned his courage.  He gripped his fishhook tighter, squared his shoulders, and walked into the mouth of the cavernous passage.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tamatoa hesitate—his antennae twitching anxiously.  For all his boastful words, the crab was clearly reluctant to go into this place.  Nevertheless, his indecision lasted only a few fleeting moments and then he was beside Maui, striding purposefully into the spectral green haze of the tunnel descending into the bowels of the very earth itself.

The air glimmered around them, thick with haze and tiny, winking flashes of light.  The tunnel sloped steeply downward, its floor covered in coarse gravel that shifted under their steps.  Then, as they proceeded deeper, the pulsing green light began to fade into pitch black.  Maui lit his fishhook, which ignited with sharp blue light.  Tamatoa’s own natural light was already glowing as well and between the two of them, they had a reasonable amount of light to work with.

Despite that light, there was nothing to see.  The walls of the vast tunnel were smooth and bland, with nothing distinguishing them in the cloying shadows.  Even up ahead, there was nothing but featureless dark.  Maui squinted into the murk, hoping to at least see something of where they were going, but could make out nothing but blackness.  It was almost as if there was a solid wall ahead of them.  A solid wall that—

Too late, he realized the problem and suddenly the tunnel’s angle had increased dramatically, dropping away without warning.  Both Maui and Tamatoa hit the edge simultaneously and they plummeted fast down a steep grade.  The loose gravel on the floor only made it worse, leaving them to slide without any way to regain traction on the slippery, shifting stones.  There was no time to even yell as they hurtled downward into the unknown.

Chapter Text

Their wild descent seemed to go on forever in the darkness.  Maui managed to keep ahold of his hook, but its light had faded with his concentration and left him unable to see where he was going.  He could, however, catch erratic flashes of light from nearby and he assumed it was likely Tamatoa’s own glow flickering in alarm.  Maui couldn’t get a good look, though, as he tumbled down the slope.  Rocks scraped at him as he fell, leaving thin gashes on his skin and probably leaving a patchwork of bruises in their wake as well.  More bruises, anyway—adding to the rest he’d already accumulated on this trip.

Just when Maui was beginning to believe he’d be falling forever, the ground suddenly leveled out and he rolled to an graceless stop on flat earth again at last.  He was just about to breathe a sigh of relief, despite all the bumps and bruises on the way down, when he heard the scrape of something very heavy moving very fast and an echoing yell.  Maui looked up with barely enough time to register the sight of the truly enormous crab barreling down on him.  Thinking fast, he grabbed his hook and dove out of the way just as Tamatoa came crashing down where Maui had just been sitting moments before.

The crab slid heavily to a stop, legs akimbo in the gravel.  With a disoriented groan, the crab looked up at their shadowed surroundings, then dramatically dropped his face to his claws.  “Let’s not do that again,” he mumbled, somewhat dazed and bleary-eyed.  His brilliant glowing colors were steady now, but had faded to a muted tone.

Maui got to his feet and stepped over to Tamatoa.  “You okay?” he asked out of old habit, reaching out a hand out to touch his former friend’s nearest sprawled leg.

As soon as his hand so much as brushed the crab’s exoskeleton, through, Tamatoa jerked away and he clicked a pincer lightly in warning.

Apologies or not, clearly there still wasn’t a lot of trust to spare.

Maui backed off, hands raised placatingly.  Then, from somewhere above, there was a booming crash as if heavy stones were colliding.  Something had snapped shut behind them—invisible in the pitch blackness.  Maui looked up anyway, but it was impossible to make out even any vague shapes in the darkness overhead.  One thing was certain, though, even if they could climb the steep slope, they were not going to get out the same way they came in.

Beside him, Tamatoa was getting back to his feet.  The giant crab shook himself after standing, taking a moment to reorient himself and look around.  There wasn’t much to see as far as Maui could tell.  Even by the light of his hook and Tamatoa’s glow, there was nothing but utter blackness outside their small bubble of light.

Tamatoa leveled him an unamused look.  “So, I hate to question what must surely be a brilliant plan,” he began, deadpan, “but how exactly are you expecting to find this specific ‘darkness’ in—”  He gestured broadly and dramatically with a claw. “—complete darkness?”

Maui couldn’t help the sheepish look that came over him.  “Well—uh—I’m not sure.”

Tamatoa gaped at him.

“Hey, I’ll think of something!” Maui exclaimed, somewhat defensive.

Holding his fishhook, glowing blue in the dark, in front of him, he started marching resolutely in a direction away from where they had just tumbled down from.  Almost immediately, however, he stumbled over some unseen crack in the earth and barely avoided falling flat on his face, catching his balance just in time.

From behind him, there came a muffled snicker.

The laughter ceased however, as suddenly the darkness came alive with odd tracks of light.  Faint trails of pale glowing green and wispy blue dots began to appear, racing across the ground from where Maui had stepped as if activated by the disturbance.  The pinpoints of light were far dimmer than the brilliant splashes of color that characterized Lalotai.  Instead, these colors were reduced to tiny specks of faintly pulsating light against a background of deep darkness—like tiny earthbound stars against a sky of rock.  They traced the shapes of stone formations, twisted into bizarre shapes, and followed along pathways upon the ground like guiding beacons.  It was actually quite beautiful in a haunting, eerie way.

The lights faded after a moment or two and utter darkness returned.  Clearly the strange bioluminescent lights were triggered by movement amongst them, like nighttime plankton stirred to life in the wake of a canoe in the surface world.

Tentatively, Maui brushed the ground ahead of him with the end of his fishhook.  Once again, the lights activated and spread from the point of disturbance for a short distance.

Maui looked back to Tamatoa, who was watching this light show in rapt fascination.  “See,” he told the crab with smug satisfaction.  “Not such complete darkness after all.”

Tamatoa made a non-committal noise, then took a few long strides forward to try it for himself.  With deliberate precision, he planted one pointed leg firmly down upon the ground ahead of Maui, then watched with pleased eyes as the lights raced away from the impact.  He did it again, then once more for good measure.  A slow grin of delight spread across his expressive face.

Maui couldn’t help but smile just a little, remembering simpler times.  Then a voice snipped through his thoughts and shuffled that nostalgia away.  “Well, you got lucky on that,” the crab chided him.  “But there’s still a whole realm to search.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Maui said confidently.  “C’mon, let’s go.”  Hook jauntily over his shoulder, he started off into the uncharted territory.

Tamatoa gave him a skeptical look, but followed nevertheless.

It was a strange world they found themselves in.  No sunlight at all reached this subterranean realm.  Instead, it was only faintly illuminated by that purely bioluminescent light which was activated by their movements.  Outside of that pale reach, the world faded back into an inky darkness so complete that it seemed an unfathomable void.  Out of that darkness, vague shapes would rise and fall in the dim glow as they explored.  Jagged spires of porous rock twisted around them, unweathered by wind or water, and resembling tongues of dark lava frozen in time.

There was no breeze to be found, either.  The air was stale and still, hanging heavily with a cold dampness that made Maui wish for more than just the ti leaves around his waist.  There were tiny particles in the air, drifting down from above like a softly glowing snow and winking gently with weak white light.  Occasionally as they wandered, this odd rain of light would grow heavy like rain around them.  Other times, it was sparse like a sprinkling of dust motes.  It seemed to fascinate Tamatoa, who examined the dusting of glowing particles on his claw with great interest.  Even he had no idea what they were, though.

There was little sign of life other than whatever minuscule creatures provided the bioluminescent glow as they passed.  Nevertheless, Maui knew better than to assume that because they saw no large creatures there were none to be found.  He kept watch as they walked for movement in the shadowy edges of the light.  A glance at Tamatoa showed that the crab was on alert as well.  His long antennae, flashing brightly with stripes of pink light in the dark, flicked as they went along and never stayed still for long.

Despite their heightened watchfulness and the unknown dangers of this place, the giant crab actually appeared to be more relaxed compared to before.  When they first set out, he had held a silent tension as tautly strung as rigging in a storm that Maui hadn’t been able to figure out at the time, but now he seemed less tightly wound.  Maui hoped that was an indicator that there were no more underhanded schemes in the works.  He didn’t think they’d survive another one of those.

Then Maui recalled something else the crab had said.  He looked up at his former friend contemplatively.

Tamatoa caught his gaze and quirked an eye.  “What?”

Maui hesitated.  He wasn’t good at this sort of thing, but he felt like he needed to ask nevertheless.  After a moment of deliberation, he finally asked as delicately as he could manage, “there really aren’t any other crabs like you left?”

An unreadable look flickered across Tamatoa’s face, then faded into a slight frown.  “No,” he said with forced neutrality.  “They’re apparently all long dead.”

Maui looked away, feeling a pang of sympathy despite everything.

Of course, he knew perfectly well that crabs weren’t like humans in the way they viewed social interactions.  Just as he knew they didn’t stick around to parent their young.  He’d had that conversation with Tamatoa ages before.  Tamatoa had never seen his parents, nor whatever siblings had hatched with him, nor any other giant coconut crabs for that matter.  It had never bothered him as far as Maui could tell, although admittedly Maui had never really asked either.

Then again, Maui had to concede that Tamatoa had developed a fair range of distinctly human, rather than monstrous, mannerisms after their centuries spent together.  Maui also conceded to himself that perhaps he should have asked sooner.

Maui knew all to well the isolation of being different and alone.  Despite the affections he’d pursued from the humans and even the wonderful and cherished new friendship he had found with Moana, Maui was different from them.  He was a demigod and would outlive them all.  He had no ‘people’ of his own and now it seemed neither did Tamatoa.

This kind of introspection was still a new and foreign experience for Maui, who generally just accepted whatever was most convienent for himself and carried on.  After all that had happened, though, he was realizing that perhaps a little consideration might be warranted.  He’d made his decision to put things right and he was going to stick by it, too.

Nevertheless, he was still struggling to figure out what to say when Tamatoa spoke again, his tone flat, but with an undercurrent of bitterness.  “You know, I’d probably be dead with them if I’d stayed in Lalotai.”

Maui blinked and looked back to his former friend.  Tamatoa was staring straight ahead, not meeting his eyes.

That gave him more to think about.  When Maui had first found Tamatoa, the crab had been so tiny and defenseless in a realm of giant, vicious monsters.  It had taken him many centuries to grow to a formidable size, too.  How many of Tamatoa’s kind would ever have been able to survive to adulthood in such a brutal place?  He hadn’t thought that deeply about it at the time, but he neither had he been able to leave the adorable little crab behind either.  By doing so, Maui had apparently saved the last of the giant crabs.

“Tamatoa,” Maui said to gain the crab’s attention.  “I don’t regret it—bringing you to the surface world, I mean.”

The crab stopped, turning to look at him with a strange look on his face, layered with traces of suspicion.  He opened his mouth to say something, but Maui didn’t get to find out what.

From somewhere in the darkness beyond them, there came an ominous low, warbling call.  Maui could just barely hear it, but instead he mostly felt it vibrate through his very bones with a disquieting tingle.  Tamatoa, on the other hand, seemed to hear it all too well.  The crab winced at the low frequency wail.  His antennae jerked spastically in discomfort and there was a pained look on his face.

“What is that?” Maui asked, mystified.  He’d never heard anything like it before.

Tamatoa, ducking his head as if he could somehow avoid the sound that way, replied with a thin whine, “I don’t know.  Make it stop.”  He raised his claws over his head protectively, shielding what he could of his sensitive antennae.

The sound faded away on its own, leaving them in peaceable silence once more.  Tentatively, Tamatoa lifted his head.  Maui grinned, “well, problem solv—”

The sound returned again, but with additional force behind it this time.  What had been a mild tingle to Maui before now quickly became deeply uncomfortable.  He covered his ears, but could do little to alleviate the sharp pain the sound created deep within them—a pressure akin to that of swimming down deep into the sea without equalizing.

If Maui was in pain, then Tamatoa was in agony.  His antennae writhed, slashing the air erratically.  His claws were back over his head again as he cringed away.  There was no escaping the noise, though.  “Make it stop,” he wailed again, very nearly begging.

Well, he couldn’t argue with that sentiment.  However, Maui couldn’t even see what was causing the sound.  Whatever it was lurked outside their circle of light, deep within the shadowy dark.

Then there was a flicker from somewhere in the dark closest to Tamatoa.  With startling speed, dozens of thick translucent tentacles whipped out towards them.  They glowed with watery white light, tipped in flashing red where they tapered to a thin point, like the tentacles of some giant anemone polyp.  Several snaked out rapidly to wrap around Tamatoa’s legs and, disoriented as he was by the awful noise, the crab had little time to react before he was mired in them.

Maui started forward, but another tentacle darted out to curl around his ankle with a steely grip.  He let out a yelp as he was yanked off his feet with surprising force.  Whatever creature the tentacles belonged to was shockingly strong as it hauled him towards it.  His skin burned painfully where the tentacle was coiled.  Maui had kept ahold of his hook, though and with a mighty yell, he swung it at the tentacle and neatly severed it.

The low warbling howl shifted to a shrill screech as the tentacle swiftly retracted.  Then it resumed its low call again with a furious vehemence.  Maui winced at the unpleasant noise, but got to his feet and scraped the severed end of the sticky tentacle off his ankle with his hook.  It had left angry red welts behind on his skin and it felt like he’d been touched by fire, but he was otherwise unharmed.

His gaze swept over to Tamatoa.  The crab was struggling against dozens of the glowing tentacles.  He’d been closer to their source and they were coiled around him nearly everywhere now, dragging him slowly towards the shadows.  Tamatoa was putting up a fierce fight, though, despite the debilitating noise the creature was emitting.  One of his claws was held firmly shut by the tentacles, but with the free claw he was tearing viciously at the tentacles wrapped around him and flinging them off.  He was also snarling a stream of obscenities that would make a hardened sailor blush.  Maui wondered where the crab had learned all those colorful expressions.  Surely it wasn’t from him!  Well, he had to concede after a moment of reflection, maybe it was.

Regardless of Tamatoa’s efforts, the tentacles were still slowly, inexorably hauling the huge crab off.  For every tentacle he ripped off himself, two more shot out to wrap around him.  His legs, braced against the tentacles, carved deep grooves in the dirt as he was pulled towards the dark where surely nothing good awaited.  Well, Maui wasn’t about to let that happen.  He raised his hook, now glowing bright blue again, and leapt into the fray without hesitation, letting out his war cry.

Tamatoa spared him a quick look colored with surprise as Maui joined the fight.  Maui gave the crab a cocky grin, but wasted no time as he slashed at the grasping tentacles relentlessly, hook flashing in the gloom.  The creature’s howling increased under assault, alternating between piercing shrillness and that painful low warble.

Maui’s hook sliced through what seemed like endless tentacles, but still more appeared.  Several shot towards him and he barely avoided them this time, shifting swiftly to a hawk to gain enough height to avoid their reach.  Then he pivoted midair and, spying an opportunity, swooped in to cut the tentacles shackling Tamatoa’s pincer.  Claw freed, the crab attacked with renewed savagery—tearing the clinging tentacles away from his legs and carapace.  More tentacles just kept coming, though, and Maui wondered just how many this thing actually had.  If it was some sort of monstrous anemone, it could be quite a lot.  They needed to address the root of the problem, rather than keep fighting an endless battle they couldn’t win.

Peering into the dark while still in his hawk form, he followed the line of the tentacles and could just barely see the faint outline of what must be the body of the creature, emerging from under the overhang of a vast rocky ledge.  As he suspected, it appeared to be some sort of enormous anemone.  Its fleshy body was larger even than Tamatoa, sprouting a dense mass of the glowing tentacles around a central disc with a gaping maw.  It had managed to drag Tamatoa pretty close to itself by now, too.  With the bulk of its tentacles focused on the crab, however, the gigantic anemone’s sides were left largely unprotected.  It seemed like the best opening they’d get and Maui intended on taking it.  If he struck now, he could catch it by surprise while it was otherwise occupied.

With a high hawk scream, he folded his wings and dove nimbly towards the anemone’s trunk.  He was nearly to his target when there came a strangled yell from behind him.  A quick glance under his wing behind him revealed that several tentacles had wrapped themselves tightly around Tamatoa’s neck.  The crab was frantically trying to pry them loose as they pulled his head down and constricted tighter around him.  His attentions focused on freeing his neck, Tamatoa skidded closer to the anemone, pulled relentlessly by the tangle of tentacles.

Maui hesitated, seeing his window for a clean shot towards the anemone creature’s body rapidly disappearing if he stopped now.  Another glance at his former friend struggling, however, made up his mind.  Decision made, he wheeled sharply around and darted into the flailing mass of tentacles, dodging and weaving through them a high speed.  He narrowly avoided getting snagged by them more than once, his wingtips barely grazing their glowing surface as he swooped among them.  Finally, he burst through and shifted to his human skin midair, hook slashing downward through the tentacles stretched towards Tamatoa’s neck, then quickly switching back to a hawk again.  The creature shrieked again, giving them a brief respite from its droning sonic assault.

Maui banked sharply and landed behind Tamatoa’s head, shifting again with a blue flash.  Using the barb of his hook alongside the crab’s own claws, he helped pry the bundle of clinging tentacles off Tamatoa’s neck.  The crab, coughing and gasping as the tentacles were released, turned his eyes back and gave Maui a look that was equal parts relieved and astonished at the assistance.

Maui threw him a wry grin.  “Keep it busy, I’ve got an idea,” he hollered cheerfully above the din the anemone was making, then took off into the air as a hawk again.

“Keep it busy?!” Tamatoa echoed hoarsely, aghast.

Maui was already out of earshot, though.  Tamatoa’s eyes followed the hawk’s shape as he disappeared into the tentacles again.  “As if I have any other option!” he grumbled loudly, though mostly to himself as he fought the tenacious tug of the tentacles on his legs.

Tamatoa reached down with a pincer to rip another tentacle away as it curled around him.  Whatever Maui’s idea was, he hoped it was a good one because he was thoroughly sick of this.  The tentacles were too squishy for his claws to snip and they stuck to his hard exoskeleton everywhere they touched, clinging with what seemed like millions of tiny barbs that left him itchy in their wake.  He could tear them away from himself, but, to his great frustration, they just kept coming back.  They were strong, too, dragging him closer to the anemone’s maw, even as he dug in and braced his massive bulk against them.

He really didn’t fancy ending up as dinner for some gigantic cnidarian.

However, he also wasn’t sure he could trust Maui, who was far too comfortable using him as bait and distraction it would seem.  Then again, the demigod hadn’t left him to the creature either.  Indeed, he’d joined the fight right away.  Things felt so familiar, but Tamatoa didn’t trust it.

But then Maui had astounded him, breaking off his assault and coming back to get him free of the tentacles around his neck.  Maybe, just maybe—

There wasn’t much time to dwell on that now, though, as more of the foul tentacles grabbed at him and the torturous call of the creature resumed.  The sound was excruciating, thrumming down his antennae like an electrical shock.  With a furious snarl driven by the acoustic torment, he tossed more of the tentacles away as they snaked up his sides and abdomen.  He snapped at a stray tentacle, intercepting it as it reached for his eye stalks.  This was getting rather personal now and he was spurred into a primal anger.  Even as the trapped tentacle wrapped itself around his pincer, he jerked it back with a savage yank.  Close as he had been dragged to the creature, he had plenty of leverage to work with now and the tentacle ripped straight out from the root, snapping wetly back as it broke away.  The creature shrieked, mercifully cutting off its agonizing low frequency noise again.  Tamatoa let out a triumphant bark of laughter and taunted the creature, “how’d you like that, huh?!”

He stuffed the stolen tentacle defiantly in his mouth.

His blood was up now and Tamatoa grinned nastily as he gleefully reached for another tentacle.  He aimed to rip every last one of them out if he had his way.  Now that he was close enough to do real damage it was an enticing proposition.  He was just about to yank back on the next one when suddenly there was a shrill scream from the creature.  All the tentacles went limp and their pull slackened, though they remained stuck uncomfortably all over him.

He hastily scraped the clingy things off his legs and body, kicking them off with relief.  Then he peered towards the creature’s huge trunk.

Maui came stumbling out from among the tentacles.  The demigod had thick red welts across his chest, but seemed to be in one piece.  The anemone, on the other hand, was ripped open from the top down courtesy of Maui’s fishhook.  Its pale lights faded slowly and then were finally extinguished, leaving behind only dull and nearly transparent remains.

The demigod walked over to him, a touch unsteadily.  Without preamble, he set his hook down and leaned heavily against Tamatoa's leg.  “I feel funny,” Maui mumbled, his words mildly slurred.

Tamatoa reached down and picked the demigod up gingerly.  Maui uncharacteristically made no complaint as he was lifted up to Tamatoa’s eye for closer inspection.  There were actually an impressive number of wide stripes of inflamed red crisscrossing the demigod’s skin, nasty welts left behind by the anemone’s tentacles.  Whereas Tamatoa’s own hard exterior kept the toxic tentacles from being little more than an itchy nuisance, clearly they’d had a more significant impact on the soft little demigod who hung rather limply in his claw.  Still, the demigod was made of stern stuff and the venom wouldn’t keep him low for very long.

Tamatoa paused to stare with cool contemplation at Maui, unresisting as he was clutched delicately in the powerful pincer.  The demigod was weakened and, if his incoherent mumbling was anything to go by, somewhat delirious.  Tamatoa would never have a better shot at vengeance than now.  It would be easy.  A squeeze of his claw and that’d be the end of it.  He’d thought about it for more than a thousand years—a victory so close he could almost taste it.  There was no one around to stop him this time—no one to interfere with his decision.  He could do as he pleased.

A long moment passed.

Tamatoa carefully set Maui down on his shell.

“Anemones are venomous, man.  Don’t be such a baby, it’ll wear off in a while,” Tamatoa chided the woozy demigod matter-of-factly, though he strongly doubted Maui could really comprehend his words at the moment.  He picked Maui’s hook off the ground and gave it a brief, considering glance, then stuck it back in its spot at the apex of his shell—just temporarily, of course.  No reason he couldn’t enjoy it while the demigod was passed out, after all.

He helped himself to a snack of a few more tentacles from the dead anemone.  They left a tingling sensation on his tongue.  Spicy.  Then he detached the creature from where it was clinging to the rocks of the overhang and shoved the whole ruined beast out from under the ledge to clear some space.  There’d be plenty of it left for breakfast, he noted.

Satisfied with his handiwork, he settled comfortably onto the ground under the ledge with his head resting on his pincers.  He cast his antennae out into the open beyond the rocky shelter where he’d be sure to pick up the approach of anything threatening.  Then Tamatoa let his eyes slide shut and drifted off to some much needed sleep.

Chapter Text

Awareness returned to Maui in a jagged rush, overwhelming him with hypersensitivity and fragmented, fuzzy thoughts all at once.  He felt awful, laying haphazardly on a hard, uneven surface.  The world felt like it was spinning.  His head throbbed and his body was battered, with a lingering pain tracking across his chest and legs.  His mind was full of bright glowing lights and bizarre things, whispering from nightmares at the edge of sleep.  He forced his eyes open and felt nearly blinded by dazzling turquoise light all around him.  He looked up and his hook swam dizzily ahead of him, planted out of reach at the top of the glowing pile of treasure.  The sight filled him with desperate dread.  No, no, no.  No!  He couldn’t get to it—  He couldn’t make it work—  He had to get his hook or Tamatoa was going to kill him—  And Moana too—  Without his hook he was—  No, he had to stop him—

In a burst of reactive panic, Maui tried to scramble to his feet to reach his fishhook.  A wave of dizziness swept over him as he stood.  Unsteady, he lost his footing and slid down the treasure encrusted shell, landing hard in the dirt and rolling to a stop.  He dragged himself back to his feet as quickly as he could, fighting back the vertigo.  Heart racing, he spun to face his opponent and—

The crab was asleep.

Maui felt the fear in him ebb swiftly as he as he remembered where he was.  He wasn’t helpless and at the mercy of an angry monster with a grudge.  Moana wasn’t in harm’s way, put there by Maui’s carelessly using her as bait.  She was with her people, getting ready to lead them on their first voyage in a thousand years.  Maui was here in this dark subterranean realm by choice, seeking to destroy the last remnant of darkness unleashed by his mistakes and thereby save the only two friends he’d ever known.

He took a deep, fortifying breath to dispel some of the disorientation he felt upon waking, then glanced back at the crab.  Tamatoa was sleeping quietly, his legs tucked in and his head resting on his pincers.  His antennae were held aloft, largely outside of the alcove they were sheltered under.  There was a rather placid look on the crab’s face, vastly at odds with the spear of panic Maui had just felt.

Beyond the crab’s huge bulk, Maui could just barely make out the faint outline of an enormous dead sea anemone, which had turned to a pale opaque white color in death.  Ah, of course.  It all started to come back to Maui now.  They had fought the anemone beast and he had finally killed it.  He couldn’t recall much after that, though.  The stinging tentacles must have affected him more severely than he expected.  That would explain the awful feeling he was experiencing—not unlike a time eons ago when he was young, inexperienced, and had indulged in one too many bowls of kava—suffering the consequences the next morning.

It didn’t explain, however, why he was on Tamatoa’s shell.  Nor why his hook was there too, poised like a trophy once more.  Maui’s eyes narrowed, suspicion of treachery creeping in.  He took a few steps back towards the sleeping crab, steadier now but still not quite back to his normal self just yet.  He intended to climb up and retrieve his hook right now, while the crab was still asleep and unable to stop him.

The glowing antennae twitched.  Before Maui could take so much as another step, Tamatoa was awake.  Mismatched eyes snapped open with startling clarity, skipping the usual morning haze and jumping to full wakefulness.  Apparently the crab had been sleeping only very lightly, keeping alert for whatever might be lurking down here.

Tamatoa’s gaze fell on Maui and the sharpness in his eyes receded a bit.  He smirked lazily.  “Look who’s awake,” he drawled.  “You look terrible.”

Maui would have liked to have shot back a snarky, pithy comeback.  He would have liked to have said something witty to counter to the crab’s smugness.  Unfortunately, he was still just too groggy for wit right now.  Instead, his words came out with bland, plain honesty.  “I feel terrible.”

Tamatoa chuckled mildly, a low rumble of laughter that actually sounded somewhat good natured for a change.  “Of course you do, Maui.  You got stung by that anemone.  A lot.”  The crab yawned and got up from the ground, shaking the dirt off himself.  “Well, now that you’re awake, we can get some breakfast and get going.”

Well, Tamatoa was certainly in a good mood.  Perhaps it was just the lingering remnants of fever dreams and his unpleasant awakening, but Maui didn’t trust that mood at all.  He straightened, standing stiffly and casting a stern look up at the enormous crab monster.  “Tamatoa,” he demanded firmly, “give it back.”

“Huh?”  There was a look of confusion on the crab’s face.

“My hook.  Give it back.  Now.”

The perplexed look rapidly vanished, replaced by a fleeting look of surprise that disappeared almost as quickly and turned into a faint scowl.  “And here I thought you said you’d changed and didn’t need to cling to your hook anymore as a substitute for—”

“Now,” Maui repeated more forcefully, cutting off whatever insult the crab was building up to.

Tamatoa’s eyes narrowed, but he reached back and plucked the hook from his shell anyway.  “The thanks I get,” he grumbled under his breath.  He didn’t hand it over, though.  Instead, he held the hook up to look at it with a touch of theatricality.  There was a muted gleam in his eye that made Maui a little nervous.

“Tamatoa,” Maui said, trailing off and leaving it as a warning.  He wasn’t really sure how he was planning on backing that warning up, though, if his bluff was called.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity where Maui was holding his breath and waiting for things to go badly, the crab smirked and held the hook out to him, handle extended.  “Don’t be so touchy, man,” he said dismissively.  “Or next time I’ll just leave it laying out in the open for someone else to come take while you get your beauty rest.”  His smirk grew keener and he added, sotto voce, “not that any amount of beauty rest will do you much good.”

Brushing off the jibe and half expecting the hook to be yanked out of his reach at the last second, Maui reached tentatively for the proffered handle.  As soon as his hand closed on the familiar grip, Tamatoa released it from his claw without any hassle.  Before Maui could say a word, the crab had quickly stepped out from under the ledge, heading over to the remains of the dead anemone.

Maui stood silently, holding his hook and just staring as Tamatoa proceeded to casually tear tentacles away from the carcass and slurp them noisily down.  He shook the last vestiges of confusion from his thoughts and tried to wrap his mind around what had happened.  Fuzzy memories began to take shape.  He’d been woozy and faint after defeating the anemone, suffering the effects of its stings.  Vaguely, he recalled being picked up in a massive claw.  A chill struck him as he realized the crab could have easily killed him, defenseless as he must have been.

He glanced at Tamatoa, who was apparently enjoying his breakfast with great relish.  Maui might have easily been part of that breakfast, and yet he was still here, alive and unharmed.  Not only that, Tamatoa had apparently elected to not just dump him on the ground while he was unconscious.  Then the crab had returned his hook to him with only minimal fuss—and even that fuss was perhaps precipitated by Maui’s somewhat accusatory approach.

Mystified, Maui wasn’t sure what to make of this.  He should probably say something, though.  “Tamatoa?” he called over to his old friend.

The crab turned to look at him, a quizzical look on his face and the end of a milky-white anemone tentacle dangling half out of his mouth.  “Hrm?”

Despite it all, Maui couldn’t quite suppress a slight laugh, hiding it badly behind the guise of clearing his throat.  For an enormous and extremely dangerous monster, Tamatoa still somehow managed to look a little silly sometimes nevertheless.

“Hey, uh—” he began, then paused.  What did he want to say?  Thanks for not killing me while you had the chance?  That didn’t sound quite right.

Tamatoa slurped the last of the tentacle up, then filled the silence left while Maui tried to string some words together.  “If you’re looking for breakfast…”

“No,” Maui said, shaking his head.  “Well, yes.  But that’s not what I—”  He leaned on his hook, aiming for casual, and ran his free hand through his hair.  “Look, I appreciate you—”

“Not eating you in your sleep?” Tamatoa offered, quirking an eye and giving him a wry grin.  “Keeping your hook safe?  Not drawing rude things on you while you were passed out?”

Wait, was the crab teasing him?  He really was in a good mood.  “Uh.  Something like that,” Maui managed.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Tamatoa said.  He started to turn around, but then paused and looked over to Maui again.  “I’m thinking you don’t want any of this, yeah?” he asked, indicating the anemone.

Maui scrunched his face up at the very thought.  Disgusting.  Besides, he’d had enough trouble with that anemone already, thank you very much.  “I’ll pass,” he deadpanned.

The crab smirked, looking insufferably smug again.  “Guess it’s a good thing I saved this then.”  From somewhere tucked amongst the treasure on his shell, he produced another one of the spikey Lalotai fruits.  He flicked it over to Maui, who caught it easily.  “That’s the last one, though, so prepare to lower your standards,” he added with an amused snicker.  Then the crab returned to his own meal.

Maui held the heavy fruit, his gaze focusing on it thoughtfully.  “Huh,” he said quietly, mostly to himself.

Yeah, this was different.  The crab was either plotting something unpleasant, which seemed unlikely given that he could have easily killed Maui while he was passed out with no scheming required, or something had changed.  Maui wasn’t sure what that might be, though.

Well, whatever it was, he’d take it.  Maui had no idea what waited for them down here, but he had a feeling it would take some cooperation to deal with it.  Fighting whatever the darkness had become would be hard enough without having to watch his back against the one who was supposed to be his ally at the same time.  However, if they could work together, he was sure they could make short work of anything they encountered.

A slow smile spread across Maui’s face.  For the first time since he set out on this trip, he was actually starting to have a genuinely good feeling about it.  Not a false hope or one instantly smashed by harsh reality either, but a real sense that they were on the right course.  Buoyed by those thoughts, Maui broke open the putrid smelling fruit in his hands.  It was a foul assault on his nose, but he could live with it.

***

After their breakfast, they set back out into the unknown.  With a good meal in him, Tamatoa was in reasonably good spirits.  Granted, he’d been a bit annoyed by Maui’s assumptions about his holding onto his fishhook.  True, it had been the centerpiece of his collection for nearly a thousand years and he’d certainly have liked to have it back, but he’d made a decision the night previous when he’d held the helpless demigod in his claw.  In that moment, with retribution close at hand, he found that he couldn’t do it.  He couldn’t bring himself to kill Maui.  A few weeks prior, he probably would have done it without too much regret, but now he just didn’t have the will to.  It wasn’t just because he needed Maui to deal with the threat to his home in Lalotai, either.

Maybe it was the apology.  After all, it was a start and the demigod was making an effort to make amends.  It was centuries overdue and didn’t change what had been done, but it wasn’t as if his own claws were entirely clean in the matter either.

Or maybe it was because Tamatoa was lonely.  He was last of his kind, alone in a realm where few inhabitants were capable of conversation.  Crabs might be mostly solitary, but he was different—he’d been raised by Maui and, even if he was loathe to admit it, he craved company.

Either way, he couldn’t kill his old friend.  If he couldn’t kill him and he couldn’t fight him, then he might as well at least try to get along.  So, he decided to do just that.  Slipping towards old, familiar habits came surprisingly easy—easier than trying to fight against the unbeatable, anyway.  He was still a little wary, though, of getting too comfortable.  As much as Maui claimed to have changed, Tamatoa had known him far too long to think things were that simple.

Nevertheless, it had been fun to mess with the demigod a little.  The worried look on Maui’s face when he’d dallied about with the fishhook had been rather priceless.  So had the shocked one when he’d given the hook back.  He’d had to turn and hurry away to avoid bursting out laughing.

He glanced over at Maui, who was idly swinging his hook as he walked.  It seemed the demigod had recovered from his anemone-induced delirium well enough, though he was carrying himself with a touch of soreness that Tamatoa was feeling as well.  They’d both taken quite a beating on this little excursion thus far.  When he got home from this, Tamatoa swore he was going to sleep for a week.  He was already missing his nice warm spot in the watery sunlight.  He couldn’t wait to bury down in the soft sand and—

“So, real question,” Maui’s voice broke into his thoughts, his tone light and conversational.  “What’s it like living in Lalotai?  What have you been up to all this time?”

Automatically, Tamatoa narrowed his eyes.  “You mean since you—” 

Maui’s face started to turn sour.

Tamatoa caught himself, then forced the bitter words back down.  He was going to try to get along, he reminded himself.  He began again, with a more innocuous tone, “living in Lalotai is easier when you’re bigger than most everything else.  Nobody bothers me these days.“

Maui knitted his brow.  “Yeah, but what do you do to keep busy?”

Tamatoa squinted back at him.  “I sleep, I hunt, I go look for interesting stuff.”  He shrugged, perplexed.  What did Maui think he did?  “Same thing I’ve been doing since you went away.”

A sharp look flitted across Maui’s face, but was quickly subdued.  Tamatoa wasn’t sure what he’d said to elicit the angry response, but clearly Maui was letting it go this time.  “You found my hook,” the demigod said, instead.  It was just a simple statement, but with a question implied.

“I did,” he replied, a bit wistfully.  “Wasn’t easy either, I’ll have you know.  I wasn’t the only one looking.”  Then Tamatoa smirked down at the demigod.  “What exactly was your plan if I didn’t have it?”

Maui blew an errant strand of hair out of his face, haughtily dismissive, but with a glint of mischief in his eyes.  “Pfft, I knew you’d have it.  Who else would have gone to so much trouble?”

That almost sounded like praise and Tamatoa couldn’t hold back a pleased grin.  “So, you didn’t have a plan.  How embarrassing,” he teased anyway, snickering.

“Says the crab who ran headlong into an erupting geyser,” Maui shot back, amused.

“Hey, that geyser used to run on a proper schedule,” he insisted, antennae sweeping up primly.  “Shouldn’t have erupted again for another hour at least!”

Maui laughed, surprisingly good-natured.  “How’d you get flipped back over, anyway?” he asked.  “Last I remember, you couldn’t get back over on your own anymore.”

Tamatoa only mostly managed to suppress a scowl.  He didn’t appreciate the reminder, but brushed it off as well as he could.  “I had a little help,” he admitted.  Maui gave him a curious look and he knew he couldn’t get away without telling the rest.  He quirked an eye.  “Do you remember those two spiders that we tried to fool?”

Maui blinked, clearly not expecting that.  “In that cave?  That was a long time ago.”  There was an odd look on his face, something akin to reluctance that Tamatoa couldn’t quite place.  Then it was gone, replaced by confusion and he added, “wait, ‘tried to’?”

“Yeah, apparently we weren't as convincing as we thought.  The big one knew we were working together from the start,” he said.  Then he snorted softly, ruefully.  “She warned me against being friends with a demigod, you know.”

Maui looked blindsided.  “You never told me any of that.”

Tamatoa flicked his antennae nonchalantly.  “You weren’t really interested at that point,” he said, stating it plainly and without much accusation.  Not much, anyway.

Maui looked like he was about to object, but shut his mouth without saying anything.

“Well, they apparently made their way to Lalotai and found me after—” Tamatoa hesitated.  The remnant of his mangled leg twitched.  He adjusted his wording and went on.  “—while I was hurt to say ‘I told you so.’  Hadn’t seen them for nearly a thousand years after that, then they showed up out of nowhere again to help turn me over.”  The fact that he probably would have died both times if they hadn’t found him, he left unsaid.

Despite the hasty rewording and omissions, Maui didn’t miss the implication.  He at least looked suitably guilty about it, though.  After a moment, he finally spoke.  “Well, I’m glad somebody was there to help you out.”

Tamatoa nearly tripped over his own legs.  He caught himself and stopped, staring at the demigod.  Was he just poking fun at him now?

“I mean it,” Maui said.  There was no whiff of a lie in the air, either.

“Er—” Tamatoa floundered, caught off guard.  “—uh, thanks?”

Maui grinned broadly, “you’re wel—”

“Anyway,” Tamatoa interjected before Maui could finish his sing-songy phrase.  He switched the subject.  If this was the time for nosy questions, then he had some questions of his own.  “So, you really stole the Heart of Te Fiti?” he pried, peering at the demigod with interest.  “The real one?”

Maui’s lip curled into a sheepish half smile.  “Yeah,” he said, “not my best decision.”

Tamatoa smirked.  “I heard you got your butt kicked.”

Maui huffed and made a face, “well, that’s one way to put it.”

“But you got it back?” he pressed.

“Not exactly,” Maui said awkwardly, with a touch of reluctance.  “Moana—the, uh, mortal girl—the Ocean brought it to her.  She came to find me to help put it back.”

Huh.  Well, that was interesting on several levels.  “So, that human rescued you from exile?” he prompted.  Maui went to respond, but Tamatoa kept going with a sharp grin, “and in return you used her as bait?”

It wasn’t entirely surprising, really.  Maui had used him as bait from the very start until he’d grown large enough to be a formidable threat on his own.  In retrospect, Tamatoa really should have recognized that familiar old strategy when the human had walked into his lair.  Perhaps he’d grown too complacent over the years.

As if reading his thoughts, Maui fixed him with a sly look.  “Well, maybe I did,” he drawled with a raised eyebrow, “but you fell for it—hook, line, and sinker.”

Tamatoa groaned.  What an awful pun.  Not even a clever one, at that.  His puns were much better.  If only he could come up with one now.  He pursed his lips, trying to quickly think up something witty.

Maui must have caught on to his frustration at being unable to find a proper comeback, because he started chuckling.  “C’mon, that’s a good one.  You know it’s funny!”

Tamatoa rolled his eyes with a heavy, long-suffering sigh.  It wasn’t funny and he didn’t laugh.

Well, maybe he laughed just a little.

***

They were meandering in the dark without much sign of their target and the situation was rather dire, but Maui was actually starting to enjoy himself nevertheless.  Surprisingly, it seemed Tamatoa was making a reasonable effort to play nice now, although more than once it was obvious that he was reining in his temper with great difficulty.  For his own part, Maui was hard pressed to keep his own temper in check at times and had forced down some irked rebuttals, as well.  Thus far, however, neither had let their temper get away from them yet and a there was a growing, yet tentative peace.  It was fragile, but it was a start.

With the arguing to a minimum and the malice reduced to an acceptable background level, things could even be considered vaguely pleasant as they trudged through the weird realm.  In truth, Maui had forgotten that the crab could be so funny.  Granted, his humor had far sharper edges now and was often at Maui’s expense, but he’d gotten Maui laughing several times nevertheless.  Once again, he was reminded that he really had missed his old friend.

They spent most of the day—if it really was day in the world above, anyway—chatting amicably enough as they went along.  After all, more than a thousand years left a lot to catch up on.  If Maui put aside all that he knew, he could almost imagine nothing had ever changed.  Of course, inevitably he was reminded that things had changed.  As the day wore on, though, he felt more optimistic that—changed or not—maybe the broken pieces of their once unshakable friendship weren’t completely beyond repair.

However, there was also a thread of nagging guilt that rose up again as their conversation swerved close to the one thing he still hadn’t owned up to yet.  It seemed expedient to brush it aside, though, in favor of less contentious topics.  He didn’t want to shatter their peace—not when that peace was still so delicate.  Maybe if things stayed on this course, he could hazard bringing up what was sure to be touchy subject later.

Unfortunately, while they may have made some personal progress, they hadn’t made much progress towards actually finding anything that would lead them to their more tangible objective down here.  They hadn’t even encountered any other forms of life at all since the anemone, save for the nearly invisible bioluminescent organisms that lit the way as they passed.  Even those were beginning to thin out too, until they were traveling in almost complete darkness.  What little they could see in the light shed by his hook and the crab’s markings was generally empty and featureless, with little indication of anything more interesting than sand to be found.  Maui was beginning to worry that they might be stuck wandering down here forever if they didn’t find something soon.

Almost as if summoned up by those thoughts, a creature scampered without warning out of the darkness.  Like a ghostly apparition, a white shape darted across their path.  It was a scrawny dog, small and squat—like the poi dogs raised for food in some villages he’d seen.  It stopped in front of them, staring silently at the pair with shaded eyes.  Then it took off, disappearing into the dark.

Beside him, Tamatoa was squinting in confusion at the unexpected visitor.  “Maui, did I eat one too many anemone tentacles or was that a dog?” he asked in disbelief.

Maui didn’t respond, suddenly feeling uneasy.  He watched the shadows ahead with dreadful anticipation—waiting for what he knew was likely coming.

A faint swirl of red light grew in the darkness where the dog had been, barely visible at first but then growing harsher and nearer.  It slowly resolved into two glowing pinpoints, flickering like flame.  Then, from out of the blackness, the outline of a slender figure formed around the fiery eyes.  The figure stepped into the dim circle of light cast from Tamatoa’s bioluminescence, a familiar woman with a striking air about her.

Maui suppressed a groan of frustration.  Instead, he made an effort towards applying some charm and charisma.  “Pele,” he crooned, “strange place to find yo—”

The volcano goddess gave him a sharp look, her starkly beautiful features fierce and unyielding as she pinned him with her gaze.  Maui’s shut his mouth abruptly, his teeth clicking with the suddenness of it.

“Maui-Ki’i-Ki’i,” the goddess scolded, her tone filled with admonishment.  Maui winced at the dusty old epithet.  “This is not what we discussed.”

Maui opened his mouth to defend himself, but Tamatoa beat him to it.  “What?  You mean where you told him to seal all of us in Lalotai off to die?” the crab fired off at the goddess with a surprising amount of gall.

Pele leveled her burning gaze upon Tamatoa, as if only just now noticing the giant crab.  He towered over her, but she looked at him as if he was little more than a nuisance—an irritating pest waiting to be squashed.  Thus confronted, the crab shrank back under her intimidating glare, seeming to remember that she was, in fact, a goddess and a dangerously temperamental one at that.

Without even a single word to the cringing crustacean, she looked back to Maui.  “This?” she asked him, one elegant eyebrow arched and her tone dripping with derision, “this is what you’re risking the entirety of the surface world for?  This worthless crab?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Maui could see Tamatoa bristling angrily now, his fear apparently forgotten in the face of insult.  The crab clicked a pincer, a sharp sound that seemed undeniably loud all in the empty dark.  Bright color was edging into his eyes.

Don’t do it, Maui thought desperately.  Tamatoa, no.

With disaster surely waiting in the wings if the crab did something brashly impulsive, Maui spoke up quickly in hopes of getting ahead of it.  “Yes,” he said firmly, matching Pele’s glare.  “I wasn’t going to let him die because of my mistakes,” he stated with blunt honesty.  His eyes flicked briefly over to Tamatoa, then he added, "he’s my friend.”

There.  He’d been thinking it all day and now he’d said it.  On the edges of his vision, Maui could see the crab turn to look at him with an odd look, the color in his eyes retreating back to their glowing pupils.  He was backing down from any ill-conceived notion of making a run at the goddess, though, and that was the important part.

Pele, on the other hand, was giving Maui a narrow-eyed, considering look.  He kept his own gaze steady, stubbornly staring back at the goddess.

“You’re not going to do what I asked, are you?” she said at last, a note of frustration underwriting her words.

He thought of Moana, who had stood fearlessly in the face of an angry goddess to return the Heart to Te Fiti, and it gave him resolve.  “I’m going to do what’s right,” he said finally.

“You risk all doing this,” Pele warned.  “Including your beloved humans.”

“That’s why we’re not going to fail,” Maui said.  Ordinarily, it would have been a boast, but this time it lacked real bravado.  It was simple, really.  If he failed, everything could be destroyed.  So he wasn’t going to fail.

“And yet, you’re just wandering aimlessly,” she pointed out.

Maui felt a scowl rise, but pushed it away.  She wasn’t wrong.  He started to say something in his defense nevertheless, but then he had a thought.  “Wait.  You said you knew what was down here,” he said slowly, realization dawning.  “And you are down here now.  Surely, you must know how to find it.”   Then he frowned, something occurring to him that he hadn’t considered before.  “Why don’t you just stop it, anyway?  You’re a goddess.  Why do you even need me for this?”

Pele laughed, a harsh, jagged sound.  “You don’t even know what it was that you had, do you?  Even after you cast it down here, you never knew.”

“Maui,” a confused voice came from above.  “What's she talking about?”

Tamatoa had been quiet since Pele had shut him down, but now he wore a puzzled look, glancing between the goddess and demigod.

There was that stab of guilt again and Maui quickly tried to think of a way to spin this away from the one thing that he hadn’t been completely honest about.  He was still working out what to say when Pele took the matter out of his hands.

“Haunui, the ancient war club,” she provided dismissively, barely giving Tamatoa a second glance.  Her piercing gaze remained focused on Maui.  “Thrown away into the abyss to fester in the dark.”

Maui’s heart sank as the truth was laid bare, taken out of his control.  With a silent sigh, he closed his eyes wearily and waited for the storm.

“Wait, what?” he heard the crab say.  “Hau—” he trailed off.  Then came the inevitable question.  “Maui?”

Maui opened his eyes.  Tamatoa was staring down at him, looking for him to contradict the goddess.

There was no use denying it.  “Uh, I—” Maui began lamely.  “It’s a long story, I—”

Tamatoa’s expression stayed level, as if carefully forced into bland neutrality.  In a way, it was more concerning than if he had been fuming with rage.

“Haunui, the war club,” Tamatoa repeated slowly and with a chilling calmness.  “The war club you stole from me.”  Despite the calm in his voice, his antennae gave him away.  They were trembling slightly, their glowing colors blurring in the dark.  “The war club you tore my leg off for.”  Now the fury began to seep into his tone, just barely fringing into his voice as if held back with great restraint.  “Is that the one?”

“Well, yes.  But let me expla—”

“You said you told me everything.”

“I was going to—”

“Your intentions are meaningless,” Tamatoa hissed out, his markings blazing blindingly bright in the dark.  Agitated color filled his eyes again and he took a single step towards Maui, claws coming up in an open threat.

Maui’s hand tightened reflexively on his hook, but he didn’t move.  He kept his eyes steadily on Tamatoa’s, willing the crab to see the apology there.

Tamatoa lowered his pincers.  The color drained back from his eyes, leaving something like hurt behind in its wake.  Without a word, he turned from Maui and walked stiffly away.

Alarmed at the unexpected departure, Maui called out, “wait!”

The crab didn’t stop.  He didn’t even hesitate.

Maui started to hurry after him.  He’d taken no more than a few steps, however, when Tamatoa doused his own natural lights, leaving only the faint glow of Maui’s own fishhook to light the darkness.  Thus concealed, the crab vanished without a sound.  “Tamatoa!” Maui shouted into the void, “come back!”

Silence was the only response.

Maui spun around, throwing a furious glare at Pele.  The fact that she was a goddess meant nothing to him right now as he sought to lay blame.  The volcano goddess had been watching the scene play out with vague interest.  She was utterly unfazed by all the drama, if her mild expression was anything to go by.

“You—” he began, voice shaking.  Things had been going so well.  Why did she have to tell him that?

Pele’s eyes blazed, nipping his accusation before it could begin.  “Don’t lay your mistakes at my feet,” she warned.

At that, Maui swiftly deflated.  She was right, of course.

She looked at him without pity.  “Now will you abandon this absurd plan and do as I asked?”

Maui looked up sharply.  Wait, had she done it on purpose?  Had he just been played by the fire goddess?  He had the distinct impression that he had, but he dared not say it aloud.  Accusing a hot tempered goddess of such a thing was not done lightly.  Admitting that he’d been out maneuvered wasn’t exactly appealing, either.

Instead he met her eyes brazenly and answered her question without hesitation.  “No,” he said, putting all the weight of his considerable stubbornness behind the word.

“You have to,” Pele commanded.  “Forget that ridiculous crab.”

“No,” he repeated louder, his face set.

“Don’t be a fool.  You can’t destroy the club,” she told him, exasperated.  “It cannot be unmade by gods or demigods alike.  That’s why you have to seal it in.”

That was new information, but Maui refused to waver.  “I will find a way,” he insisted.

“You will doom us all,” she fired back, eyes seething with molten flame.

He wasn’t going to back down.  He gripped his hook tighter.  “Not if you tell me what I’m actually dealing with.”

For a moment, it seemed as if the very rocks were holding their breath as the goddess and demigod stood, locked in their standoff.  Then Pele turned her eyes skyward.  “You are foolish and stubborn,” she said, shaking her head in resignation, “to risk everything for that crab.”

Maui sensed he was making headway, but he wanted to make one thing perfectly clear nevertheless.  “That crab is my friend and I’m not going to abandon him.”

Another long moment passed.  “Very well, Maui,” she relented at last with a sigh, though she sounded less than pleased.

Displeasure notwithstanding, Pele nevertheless told him a tale that he’d never been told before.  Maui listened with growing dismay, but with no less resolve.  This was going to be harder than he thought.

Pele departed after, disappearing in a painfully bright flame that stung Maui’s eyes, adjusted as they were to the gloom.  With the goddess gone, stillness and quiet returned.

Maui was left alone in the endless dark.

Chapter Text

Long ago…

Kuikaa was a kupua—a man of supernatural abilities and great prowess.  One afternoon, he and his friend were out sailing when they encountered a fierce storm.  Their canoe was swamped and his friend was swept overboard to drown in the storm-tossed seas.

Overcome with grief, Kuikaa swore vengeance upon the gods, whom he blamed for his friend’s death.  Under the cover of night, he took the form of a small spider and crept silently into the House of Kū.  He found the war god fast asleep.  From Kū’s head, he plucked a single strand of hair and escaped back into the night with it.

Kuikaa used his magic to shape the stolen hair into a mighty war club, imbuing it with his with his desire for revenge and pouring into it the storm of his own fury.  These he weaved together with the hair, which held a sliver of power of the war god from whom it was stolen, and with a fragment of his own grief-stricken soul.  Once complete, this glittering club seemed powerful enough that it could destroy even the gods themselves.  Formed as it was from a piece of divinity, it was also a weapon that none of godly persuasion could unmake.  With this weapon, Kuikaa believed he could bring peace to his tormented heart and avenge his fallen companion.

When it was complete, he went to the nearest village, safe and protected in the shadow of a great mountain, to recruit others to join him in his fight against the gods.  He held his golden war club high to rally the villagers, but at the sight of it the mortals fell to fighting and soon slaughtered each other.  Driven as he was by thoughts of vengeance, Kuikaa cared nothing for their deaths and went on alone to wage his war.

The slaughter did not go unnoticed.  The villagers had been devotees of Pele and she was infuriated by their needless deaths.  Eyes alight with flame, she struck the earth with her foot, splitting it open and sending wave upon wave of lava rolling down the mountainside after Kuikaa.  He fled towards the sea, the only refuge from her wrath.  Try as he might, he could not outrun the molten rock and was soon trapped by the fiery arms of the lava streaming down the hills.  Desperate, he abandoned the war club and tried to escape in a spider’s shape, but was thwarted by the other gods who had been drawn to the commotion.  When they learned of what he had done, they cursed him to remain in a monstrous spider form for the rest of his days.  Then they set him adrift in the westward currents to exile in distant places unknown.

Despite many efforts, the gods could not destroy the cursed war club. Nor could they keep it amongst themselves, as it spread strife wherever it was.  So instead it was hidden away, far from the islands of men, in a secret place veiled in mist where it might never be found.

But legends only grow with time and things hidden do not stay that way forever.  The story of its creation was long lost and tales of its properties were distorted by eons of hushed whispers amongst gossiping mortals, but the stories persisted nevertheless across the ages and across many islands.  The war club was called Haunui, the Great Peace.  It was a misleading title, for Haunui brought nothing of the sort.

***

Alone now in the dark, Maui ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it in agitation, and growled his frustration out to the empty air.  Now he not only had to find that cursed war club and the darkness it was feeding, but, thanks to his own stupid reticence, he also had to track down Tamatoa, who was off sulking somewhere in the vast dark.  He wasn’t sure which was more daunting, honestly.  His hands tightened around his fishhook—mad at himself, mad at Pele, mad at everything.  In a fit of temper, he brought the hook down on the ground with a guttural yell of wrath.  The ground trembled under the blow and it kicked up a cloud of faintly glowing dust, but was otherwise utterly unsatisfying.  All that fury wouldn’t do him any good, anyway.  He was just going to have to find a way out of this mess.  Again.

He took a deep breath to calm his temper and straighten out his priorities.  Angry crab first, then deal with the rest.  Finding that angry crab in the pitch black with his markings dimmed was going to be challenging, to say the least.  He couldn’t have gotten too far, though.  Tamatoa might be able to feel his way around with his antennae in the utter darkness, but he’d be slower that way.  Besides, where was he going to go?  There was no getting back to Lalotai the way they came in.  With no clear exit, Maui figured the crab would probably wander a little ways, then find some place to flop down and mope.  Hopefully, he’d also get tired of stumbling in the dark and turn his bioluminescence back on, too.  Maybe that was all just wishful thinking, though.  Either way, he had to find him.

Well, nothing to do but start looking.  Maui walked in the direction he’d seen Tamatoa depart.  He kept his hook lit, carrying it low to illuminate the ground, and began searching the fine, silty sand for tracks.  Tamatoa had a ridiculously huge leg span and his strides were just as impossibly long, but if Maui could at least find one set of impressions from the crab’s steps it would give him something to work with.  Better than just stumbling around in the dark and yelling, anyway.

He walked a tight spiral from where he started, widening his search pattern with every turn as he went.  Thankfully, it didn’t take long for the strategy to bear fruit and he found a circular disturbed area of sand that could only have been made by one of the crab’s leg points.  Relieved, he looked ahead to find the next.  Aha!  There it was!  Maui hurried to it, then searched again for the next.  Finding it easily, he began trotting from track to track as they lead deeper into the unexplored realm.

Maui was just beginning to think this might be easier than he expected when he stopped abruptly, staring at the ground.  Here the tracks abruptly became muddled and confused.  It looked as if the crab had been pacing or walking in small, meandering circles, with tracks criss-crossing in a tangled web across the ground.  Maui glared at the ground in growing frustration.  He was a wayfinder, not a tracker.  While he could follow clear, straightforward marks in the sand well enough, this jumble was an incomprehensible mess.

With another growl of exasperation, he switched to his fallback—yelling.  “Tamatoa!” he bellowed into the dark.

There was, as he might have predicted, no response.

“C’mon, Tamatoa!” he called out again, “I know you’re out here somewhere!”

Still nothing.

Muttering a blistering curse under his breath, he tried again.  “C’mon, don’t be like this.  I am sorry!” he howled into the void.  “Come back!”

There was only silence.

He planted his hook in the sand and leaned heavily on it.  It stirred up a puff of silt, sending the faintest of glimmering particles into the air.  With a ragged sigh, Maui stared blankly and tried to figure out what to do next.  The dust slowly settled on the ground, drifting with with a muted sparkle that gradually faded.  He stared at it for what seemed like forever before an idea was kindled.

Quickly, he took up his hook and let it’s light go out.  Instantly, he was thrown into uncomfortably deep, enveloping blackness.  He held his breath anxiously as his eyes grew adjusted to the total darkness—or rather, the near total darkness.  It was extremely faint, but he could slowly discern the barest form of dim, glowing light from where his hook had just been sitting.  A few minutes more and he could start to see similar patches of light around him.  They were the only things visible at all in any direction.  The older ones were faded and nearly invisible, but the ones more recently disturbed showed up slightly brighter.  His own footsteps were brightest, but the sizable rounded prints from Tamatoa were there as well.  The tracks were still only barely visible, but it was just enough that they could be followed.

Relieved, he set off again after the brightest set.  Unfortunately, while the tracks might be shedding some minuscule amount of light, nothing else down here was.  More than once, Maui found himself tripping over rocks or stumbling over uneven ground as he moved through the all encompassing gloom.  Undeterred, he brushed such things off as minor inconveniences and kept going as quickly as he could without breaking his neck.

So focused on running from one track to the next, he failed to notice that the tracks vanished not far ahead of him.  He had spotted the next glowing spot, far brighter than the last several, and was racing towards it when he crashed headlong into something hard and unyielding in the dark.

Knocked to the ground and slightly dazed from the collision, Maui nevertheless nearly jumped out of his skin at the overly loud sound of a startled shriek emanating from above him.  There was a scrambling of massive steps and the sharp clack of pincers snapping on empty air overhead.  Even as Maui shook off the impact and got to his feet, he let out sigh of relief.  He’d know that sound anywhere.

Before he could say a word, however, Maui felt a feather-light touch of something brush over his shoulders in the dark.  It took him a second to realize that it was the crab’s antennae, but by then there was already an ominous growl to warn him of the danger.  Maui leapt to the side, barely avoiding the claw that crashed down into the dirt and raised a pale silvery cloud of shimmering dust.

“Tamatoa!” he shouted urgently.  “Stop!  It’s me!”

“I know!” was the response, spit with a vehemence that Maui probably should have anticipated.

Maui backed away fast, but no follow up blow was immediately forthcoming.  He still couldn’t see the crab, though, and a slight chill ran down his spine as he remembered another time when Tamatoa had used this trick.

He shook the feeling off.

No. This time was going to be different.

***

He should have known better.  After all, for the past millennia, he’d had a reminder with every single step he took of the demigod’s treachery.  It had taken decades for the unsettling phantom itch to fade away where his missing leg should have been, but the scarred stump itself still ached from time to time.  Besides that, every rebalanced, compensated step served to drive the point home.  They weren’t friends.  Not anymore.  Not for more than a thousand years.  No, they were enemies.  Enemies, he sternly reminded himself again.

So, it shouldn’t sting like this.

The day had been so pleasant, though.  So familiar.  The old banter came easily, floating up to the surface from across the centuries.  It was comfortable and Tamatoa liked comfortable things.  For a moment, he had contemplated what it might be like to have a friend again.  There was a tantalizing whiff of the trust and camaraderie that he once knew so well.  The lure dangled ever closer when Maui had firmly told the volcano goddess that Tamatoa was his friend.  At the time he had been so pleased to hear that spoken, a spark of hopefulness from across the centuries taking root in him.  It was almost embarrassing as he realized just how much he actually did want that friendship back.

Then there was the ugly truth.

He wasn’t hurt by it.  No, of course not.  Not hurt.  He was a fabulous, powerful crustacean with a glittering treasure hoard to rival any ever seen in Lalotai.  He was beautiful that’s all he needed.  And Maui?  Maui was nothing to him but an enemy—a snack, maybe.  He couldn't be hurt by a snack.  Why would he be hurt?  So Maui had lied—again.  So Maui tore his leg off to steal a prized possession, then threw that prize away like garbage—just like he’d thrown Tamatoa himself away.

No reason at all to be hurt.

That’s what he told himself as soon as he got far enough away from the fire goddess and the demigod, anyway.  He’d heard that lying mini-god yelling after him, but he didn’t care.  No half-baked apology was going to charm him this time.  He wasn’t going to get fooled again--not one more time.

He was going to march right back up to Lalotai, go home, have a good dinner, and—

Tamatoa suddenly stopped short, antennae flitting around him in the pitch black as he tried to gauge where he was.  How was he going to get home?  He had stormed off with such blind pain—no, rage!—that he hadn’t really paid attention to where he was going, a condition complicated by having dimmed his own lights for concealment.  Now he was far from any scent trail they’d left as they had wandered.  Even if he could retrace those steps, however, there was no way to get back out from where they had come in anyway.

He paced, legs scuffing at the dirt in building aggravation as he tried to figure out what to do.

The cloying dark was starting to feel very oppressive.  Even though his vision was vastly superior to that of arrogant, lying little demigod’s, in the dark there was precious little that even he could see besides faint blotches of stirred up bioluminescence on the ground.  He didn’t want to say that he was lost, but it occurred to him that he might never find his way out of here.  Worse still, he might not be able to find anything to eat.

He paused, standing stock still.  He flicked his antennae gently, hoping for some sign in the still air that would give him a direction to take.  There was nothing, though—quite literally, nothing.  The stale air seemed devoid of anything at all—no wind, no scents, no anything.  It was disorienting and it made him antsy.  He began to pace again.

Finally, he just picked a direction at random and struck out into the emptiness, trailing his antennae across the ground before him to guide him in the dark.  He moved slowly but steadily, putting on an air of confidence that he didn’t actually feel for an absent audience in this barren wilderness.  All he really wanted was to nestle into some nice warm sand and have a good sulk, but this didn’t seem like the best time or place.  In truth, he didn’t know what might be lurking out there and it made him nervous.  There could be anything out there, unseen and unknown.  Waiting for the right moment to—

Something brushed against his leg and, wrapped up in such nerve-wracking thoughts, he let out an undignified shriek and nearly jumped right out of his chitin.  He spun to face his invisible attacker, snapping his pincers in warning.  His antennae swept rapidly ahead, seeking whatever had touched him.  Then they fell upon something warm, with a scent he’d recognize anywhere.  A growl built deep in his throat.  Maui.

He slammed his claw down, but missed by the barest of margins as the demigod dodged away.  The demigod had called his name and identified himself, but Tamatoa only sneered in the dark.  Did Maui really, honestly think he didn’t know exactly who he was attacking?

The demigod had moved out of range of his searching antennae.  Tamatoa tilted his head slightly, listening carefully for any sign of him and kept his claws at the ready.  Maybe Maui would light up his hook, illuminating an easy target.  It wasn’t lost on Tamatoa that if he started this fight, he couldn’t win it.  He didn’t care right now.

He waited for a sound in the dark.

“AAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRNNNNNGGGGGG!”

That was not the sound he was expecting.

Tamatoa jerked in shock as the resonating call rumbled low through his exoskeleton.  His concentration interrupted, he lost his grip on his bioluminescence and his markings lit up in alarm, shining like a beacon in the darkness.   The sound, which was reminiscent some sort of demented blowing horn, tapered off to a weird metallic buzzing that left him feeling as if things were crawling on him.  His eyes swiveled and he searched for the source, but instead caught a flicker of blue light nearby.  Maui’s fishhook.

The ominous, horrifying call forgotten and heedless of whatever danger it might portend, he pivoted fast and leapt at the demigod with a roar.  Maui yelped, clearly not expecting the charge.  In a flash of blue light, he disappeared into some tiny form that was swallowed by the shadows.

It was barely a moment before he reappeared, however, a short distance to the left.  One hand held up placatingly and the other holding his hook low, Maui called up to him.  “Tamatoa, please!  Just let me explain!”

Tamatoa was in no mood for another explanation full of half-truths.  He swiped at the demigod again, only to have the shapeshifter slip through his claws once more.

Again, Maui reappeared in a new spot to the right.  “Listen to me!  I’m sorry!”

“If you were sorry, you’d have told the truth!” Tamatoa snarled, leaping at him again.

Again, Maui shifted and escaped.

Back on the left again, he reappeared in his human shape.  “I’m not going to fight with you,” he said firmly.

“Good!” Tamatoa growled back, chasing the slippery little shapeshifter around with growing irritation.  True to his word, the demigod was making no move to retaliate, simply defending himself passively by evasion.  Well, if Maui wasn’t going to fight back it would just make it that much easier.

Maui shifted again, darting unseen in the darkness and reappearing on the right side again.  “Tamatoa, please just listen.”

He swiped again at the demigod, his claws snapping on empty air as Maui eluded him once more, changing into some other shape, invisible again in the utter darkness.

Tamatoa narrowed his eyes.  He tensed, waiting.  Blue light flashed, but this time Tamatoa was ready and lunged left.  There was a startled yelp and his claw closed around Maui’s torso.  Before Maui could collect himself, Tamatoa gave him a vicious shake and the fishhook fell from his hand, tumbling to the ground.  “Aha!” he crowed, triumphant.  Then his tone turned harder, more menacing.  “You’re getting predictable.”

With hurt—no, it was fury!  Not hurt!—bubbling up within him still, Tamatoa squeezed the demigod hard enough to elicit a ragged gasp of pain from him.  Yet even as Maui struggled in his grip, the demigod still aimed for appeasement.  “C’mon, Tamatoa,” Maui said plaintively.  "Just let me talk a minute!"

“Fine.  Consider it your final plea.  For real this time.  Start talking, little man,” he demanded, giving him a quick shake again for emphasis.  “Make it good.  Give me a reason to not kill you.”

“If you wanted to kill me, I’d be dead already,” Maui pointed out, apparently unable to help being his cheeky self even now.

He gave he demigod another squeeze as a sharp reminder of the position he was in.  “You sure about that?”

Maui hissed in pain, but didn’t complain beyond that.  He did drop the glib attitude, though.  “Look, I’m sorry,” he began, “I should have told you, but I didn’t want to rock the boat.”

Tamatoa glared at him, glowing eyes narrowing.  “Nice work on that one, man,” he sneered, thick with sarcasm, and Maui winced.  “Well, now you’re going to tell me everything.  And you’re going to tell me right now,” he commanded.

Maui squirmed uncomfortably in his grip, but the look on his face was one of more than physical discomfort.  Finally, he seemed to summon up the requisite nerve to start fessing up.  “Uh—well, after I—you know—took the war club from you—”

“And tore my leg off,” Tamatoa reminded him with no shortage of bitterness in his disgruntled tone.

“And tore you leg off, yes,” Maui echoed back, looking somewhat abashed, "which I told you I’m sorry about.  Anyway, after that I took it to—” he hesitated, which surely meant it was something Tamatoa wasn’t going to like.

“Spit it out,” he said, impatient.

“—I took it to the humans and—”

Tamatoa growled, his claws tightening reflexively in anger and making Maui yelp.  “Of course you did,” he ground out, but eased his grip with great emotional effort and let Maui continue nevertheless.

“Gah,” the demigod choked, then recovered and went on.  “Well, I gave it to them and everything went wrong.  They went crazy, trying to kill each other.”  Maui looked stricken, his face falling and painted with dejection and guilt.  “I was trying to stop their war, not make it worse.  It was the war club, it drove them to do it.  So, I had to get rid of it or they would have all died.”

Tamatoa couldn’t really bring himself to have much compassion for a bunch of flighty humans, but something about the story nagged at the back of his mind.

When Tamatoa made no comment, however, Maui continued again.  “I thought it would be safe deep within the earth, so I dropped it into the deepest trench I knew of.  I didn’t know that after I took the Heart of Te Fiti the darkness I unleashed would find it and grow down here.  Not until Pele told me after I put the Heart back.”

Tamatoa gave him a flat look.  “Is there anything you haven’t completely ruined lately, man?”  He didn’t wait for an answer.  “What did Pele tell you this time?”

“That it woke some sleeping sentience within it when it combined with the darkness.  That even the gods couldn’t destroy it and neither can a demigod.  That it causes strife wherever it goes and that’s why it has to be sealed in," Maui explained, though he sounded like he was holding back.

Tamatoa’s antennae twitched and he brought Maui up to his face.  He peered closer at the demigod in his pincer, who looked uncomfortable under such intense scrutiny.  “What else aren’t you saying?” he demanded sharply.

Maui tried to avoid his gaze, which was pretty much impossible when faced with eyes nearly as large as he was.  “Well,” he began reluctantly, “it makes people fight and I thought—”  He trailed off.

The implication struck Tamatoa all at once.  “And you thought that’s why we fought?” he said slowly, actually giving the idea consideration.  Had they been influenced by it?  He supposed it was possible at least on some superficial level.  Perhaps it could have aggravated their existing problems, but— “Man, I had legitimate grievances,” he said, his anger rising again.  “You dumped me on that island, remember?  For centuries!  You don’t get to foist your guilt off on some cursed artifact!”

Maui looked like he had swallowed a sour carambola.  “But—”

Tamatoa cut him off with a glare.  “You said the humans instantly fell to killing each other.  Did we do that?”

“Well, uh—” Maui stammered, clearly caught off guard by Tamatoa’s response.  “—well, no.  But things were different after we found it!”

“Things were different because you brushed me off as ‘just a crab’  in favor of your dumb humans!”  Tamatoa was getting riled up again, the patience he had cultivated while Maui told his little story swiftly dissolving.  “Man, you’re just trying to shift blame.”

For his part, Maui looked like he was struggling mightily to keep his temper in check.  Probably a good plan on his part, considering he was still dangling in Tamatoa’s claw.

When he finally spoke, it was strained.  “I am not trying to shift blame,” he said thinly, through gritted teeth.  Then he took a breath, seemed to recenter himself, and looked steadily into Tamatoa’s eye.  “I meant it when I apologized to you.  And I meant what I told Pele.  You’re my friend, Tamatoa.  I’m not going to forget that again.”

Tamatoa faltered.  The grip he had on Maui slackened.  Even hurt and angry as he was—and he was very angry—it struck a chord with him.  He felt that pique start to slip away.  After everything, he just couldn’t hold onto the grudge anymore.  He didn't even want to.  “Look, Maui—”

“AAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRNNNNNGGGGGG!”

The howling sound was deafeningly close now, as if drawn to their conflict.  Tamatoa spun, still clutching Maui in his claw, to face it.  His eyes went wide. 

Rearing up from the ground was an eldritch monstrosity that defied all reason.  Its shape was blurry and indistinct around the edges, but it towered above Tamatoa, endlessly high and dwarfing even an enormous crab like himself.  The creature appeared to be composed of amorphous, ever-shifting substance, solid in one moment but vague and fluid in the next.  It should have been impossible to see in the already darkened environs, but its outline was traced by arcs of light streaking through it like lightning.  From somewhere within it, a faint red-gold glow emanated, pulsing like some sort of alien heartbeat.

The sight of it filled him with a nameless dread and Tamatoa backed away slowly, with steps unsteady with abject terror.  Maui dropped forgotten to the ground as Tamatoa brought both claws up in a defensive posture.

From somewhere nearby, there was a blaze of brilliant blue light as Maui’s fishhook ignited in the dark.  The demigod stood beside him with his hook raised and his stance confident, but the look on his face bespoke a state balanced on the knife edge between nerve and fear.

The shared a glance.

“Is that—?”

“Yeah, I think it found us,” Maui said glibly, although Tamatoa could hear the nervousness beneath the bluster.

Tamatoa replied in kind, putting up a humorous front of his own.  “Well, at least we can stop looking.”

Then it descended upon them like a hurricane.  All at once they were enveloped in the howling wind that flowed around it, tearing at them with vicious fingers and buffeting them with debris.  The very air itself seemed charged with electricity, like the leading edges of a storm at sea, making Tamatoa’s antennae jerk and twitch uncomfortably.  Aside from the static humming through the atmosphere, it seemed as if all else was sucked from the very air itself—leaving it void and barren.

From out of this gale, tendrils of something more solid curled out to strike at them with unbridled fury.  They would have been nearly impossible to discern, if not for the forks of spidery lightning skittering throughout them.  There were bursts of blue light nearby—Maui flashing between shapes as he tried to grapple with this ever-shifting adversary.  Over the din, he could hear Maui’s signature battle cry.

Tamatoa was having trouble keeping his footing, beset on all sides by a flurry of feinting attacks from the bizarre monstrosity.  Glancing blows prodded at him, pushing him this way and that, but not dealing any real damage.  It almost felt like it was toying with them or, perhaps more concerning, testing them.  Nevertheless, he snapped savagely at the tendrils, trying to get his claws around something solid.  Everything was happening very fast, however, and his pincers closed only on empty air with every snap he made.

Then it struck in earnest, with frightening speed and without warning.  It was hard to make out its shape, but it seemed to be everywhere at once and Tamatoa was swiftly mired in it.  It clung tenaciously to him, dragging at his limbs, tugging at his body, and even curling around his antennae.  Everywhere it touched him, there was a tingling that set his antennae to twitching again.  He struggled and thrashed in its clutches, but despite his efforts he was held fast.

Fueled by desperation and no small amount of fear, Tamatoa focused all his effort on getting a claw free.  Bracing up his weight for leverage, he gave a hard yank and tugged a pincer loose from the coils of darkness.  Without hesitation and with a primal snarl, he struck back at his captor.  His attack landed with brutal accuracy, his claw closing viciously on the closest bit of the creature that he could reach.  With a feral grin, he clamped down with all his considerable strength, intending to utterly crush it.

The world before his eyes suddenly exploded in blinding light.  Fiery pain streaked through him, racing down his claw to the rest of his body.  It arced across his treasure-laden shell, burning like agonizing flame, then jolted through his antennae and filled his mind with static.  His legs seized up as it traveled down them towards the ground.

Then it was over.

His legs gave out and he collapsed into the grasp of his attacker.  Pain sizzled through every part of him, but his mind was abuzz with disjointed thoughts--reeling and adrift.  Something cut through his haze, however.  It sounded watery, distorted, and distant, but also familiar.

"Tamatoa!"

He forced his eyes open, though they were out of sync and his vision seemed to jerk and blur.  There was Maui, hook flashing.  The demigod was hacking his way through the swirling darkness towards him.  His vision fuzzed again and dimmed.

Abruptly, the dark creature released its hold on him and Tamatoa fell heavily to the sand.  Attempting to open his eyes once more, he caught a fleeting glimpse of Maui suspended in the air, trapped in combat with their foe.  Something was wrong though.  Through the sluggish syrup of his thoughts, it took Tamatoa a long and befuddled moment to realize what that was.

Maui didn't have his fishhook.

Then the world faded out and Tamatoa slipped from consciousness into spiraling oblivion.

***

It was dark and the air was still, but overhead were uncountable pinpoints of faint light.

“Maui?”

There was a muffled grunt from nearby.  "Mmpph."

The little crab skittered over to the demigod, half asleep on the beach.  A small claw reached up to poke him in the side.  "Maui," came the plaintive voice again.

"Go back to sleep," Maui grumbled groggily.

"But I had a bad dream."

With a drowsy mumble, Maui opened his eyes.  The demigod scooped up Tamatoa, still small enough to be held in his hands, and set him on his broad chest.  "It's just a dream, it's not real," he said, stifling a yawn.

"Okaaay," Tamatoa said, drawing the word out mournfully and dramatically.

Maui sleepily raised a lazy eyebrow.  "You want to tell me about it?"

Reluctant now, the crab looked down at his own claws.  "No," he said quietly.

"Hey, it's okay.  You're here with me, nothing's gonna get you," Maui reassured him, giving the crab's claw a tired pat.

Tamatoa dipped an antenna, his equivalent of a nod.  "Yeah, I guess so."  Then he settled down, making himself comfortable on Maui's chest.  The little crab laid his head on his pincers and closed his eyes.  Satisfied that the matter was handled, Maui let his own eyes fall shut again and began to drift back to sleep.

"Maui?"

The demigod's eyes opened again and he found the crab staring at him intently.  "Hmm?"

"We'll always be friends, right?"

Maui blinked at the question, but smiled.  "Of course, kid."

"Good."  The crab sounded relieved.  He snuggled back down and closed his eyes again.  "Goodnight, Maui," he mumbled through a sleepy yawn.

"Goodnight, Tamatoa."

***

Emerging from the scattered remnants of a dream, Tamatoa came abruptly back to a dark and silent world.  So void of sensory stimuli were his surroundings that he would have thought himself dead, had it not been for the searing ache that consumed his entire body and the twitching spasms that still had his legs and antennae jerking from time to time.  Even his own glow was glitching, flickering weakly with every painful twinge that wracked his frame.  He imagined this must be what it felt like to get struck by lightning, which probably wasn’t far off the mark from what had actually happened.  Regardless, he would rather not ever experience that again.

When he managed to get his rebellious limbs under control enough to stand, he pushed himself unsteadily up from the silty sand he was slumped in.  He shook his head and gingerly ran a claw down the length of his singed antennae, trying to sooth and calm their constant twitching as best he could.  In the erratic illumination of his bioluminescence, he looked around the vast wasteland where he found himself.  There was nothing within the flickering circle of his light.  He was alone.

“Maui?” he called out automatically, as if by instinct.

There was no answer, only a ringing silence.

He called again, louder.  “Maui!”

The word echoed emptily across the wasteland.

Well, maybe the demigod was knocked out somewhere, too.  Still wobbly and disoriented enough to have some difficulty balancing on three legs, he started searching nevertheless.  He cast his jumpy antennae before him, searching in the dark for any sign through the confusing jumble of distortion that still dominated his senses.

Despite the sensory static, it didn’t take long to find something.

At first, he just caught a glint of reflected light on the ground, then a slender curve of ivory-white bone, half buried in the shifting sand—Maui’s fishhook.  He hurried over and looked around.  The hook was here, but where was Maui?

“Maui!” he shouted into the dark indignantly, “c’mon, man.  Answer!  I am not about to stumble around in this mess looking for you.”

When no answer was forthcoming, Tamatoa reached down to pluck the hook from the dirt.  “Okay, I’m taking your hook then,” he called in a sing-song tone sure to draw the demigod out.

Tamatoa shook the hook off, sending a cascade of fine-grained silt drifting down to the ground.  He brought it to his eye, unable to resist letting his gaze drift over the intricate scrimshawed carvings of his old prize appreciatively once again.  Then he stopped cold, eyes going wide.

There was blood on the hook.

He looked around quickly, scanning the emptiness again with a growing sense of urgency.  “Maui!” he bellowed as loud as he could.  Surely he’d hear that.  He was probably just a little banged up nearby and needed a wakeup call.  No need to worry.  Even if he was worried—which he definitely wasn’t!—Maui was probably just fine.

Nothing stirred in the ominous silence.

Anxiously, he paced a few steps and flicked his antennae along the ground.  That’s when he caught a a whiff of blood in the stirred up sediment.  After all their fights, he knew well enough what Maui’s blood smelled like and he had little doubt of this scent's source.

Okay, so maybe he was a little worried.

Still clutching Maui’s hook delicately in his pincer, Tamatoa followed the thin scent trail left by the blood.  He tried to suppress the gnawing feeling of unease building within him.  Maui was a demigod—even if he was bleeding, he was still probably fine.  It wasn’t as if Tamatoa had never drawn blood from him before, after all.  Maui had been no worse for the wear every time.

The scent grew stronger and now he could see dark stains on the ground as well, illuminated starkly by his pale glow.  He quickened his pace, nearly tripping over his own legs in his haste.

The trail abruptly changed and Tamatoa skidded to an unsteady halt.  There was a considerable amount of blood staining the ground here, darkened and clumped where it had dried into the dusty sand.  The trail continued on, but only faintly.  Here, however, the sharp scent of iron drowned out nearly all else, assaulting his already muddled senses.  Nevertheless, he detected something else faintly lingering on the edges of perception that made him go cold.

A smell of death.

“Maui?” he called, his voice suddenly feeling very small in the vast, open emptiness of this forsaken realm.

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

Tamatoa stared at the stain on the ground, then at the blood splashed hook held in his claw.

No, that wasn’t even possible.

No.

Lost, his eyes swiveled to look all around him, wide and unseeing.  He was just a crab, alone in this vast and desolate wasteland.  His mind reeled, desperately denying what his senses told him and rejecting the very idea.  A choked sound escaped his throat.

"Maui?"

Chapter Text

“Maui?”

The name slipped desperately from him and Tamatoa waited in vain for a reply that never came.  He was alone, so very alone, in this vast cursed wasteland.  All around, the oppressive, empty darkness seemed to close heavily in on him.  It felt as if there were tiny bubbles in his mind, making him lightheaded and adding to the haze of static already clouding his senses in the aftermath of the lightning-like jolt he’d received before passing out.  His body felt sluggish, but his mind was racing—a single phrase drumming through him over and over.

Maui was gone.

Those words kept running endlessly through his mind, though his mind rebelled at accepting the meaning behind them.  It couldn’t be true.  It couldn’t.  No.  It was impossible.  Maui was a demigod and while his agelessness was no guarantee of immortality, the very idea of his death seemed unfathomable.

Tamatoa ought to know, after all.  He’d tried often enough to kill the demigod.  Despite that, he had never really thought much past the vengeful mockery and taunting phase.  Somehow, he hadn’t truly imagined a world without Maui in it.  And he certainly hadn’t considered that, when faced with the awful reality, it would actually make the howling loneliness within him so much, much worse.

Try though he might to desperately deny it, he couldn’t argue with what was before him though.  The prodigious amount of blood staining the ground, the whiff of death he’d stirred up in the silt, and the abandoned hook were proof enough of the harsh truth.

Maui was gone.

Maui, who had given him his name and who had raised him.  Maui, who had been his friend for more than a thousand years.  Maui, who he had fought beside against countless foes.  Maui, who had abandoned and betrayed and maimed him.  Maui, who he had spent centuries bitterly hating.  Maui, who had ultimately come back to save his life.

Grief crashed over Tamatoa, awash in the memories of centuries.  It was a sadness not couched in his usual self-pity, nor colored by feeling sorry for himself.  Having never truly experienced such an emotion, Tamatoa was a little overwhelmed.  He didn’t know when he had sank down to the sand, but suddenly there he was in the bloody dirt with his legs trembling and unable to support him.

Unchecked, his own thoughts ran wild.  He remembered when he had first met Maui, inauspicious as those beginnings were.  He had been on his own as long as he could remember before that—just a tiny, drab little thing in a world of endless danger.  It had been a never-ending fight just to survive, full of threats and fear and peril.  Worse still, he’d had no one to talk to.  Then Maui had taken him away from all that and everything had changed for the better.

Later, he had thought he was alone when Maui left him on that island.  Then again, he had thought he was alone when he was exiled back in Lalotai.  He was wrong.

He truly was alone now.

Lost now in the middle of a bizarre, lightless realm, it was as if he was that small, fragile crab once again.  Tamatoa was friendless, frightened, and alone with no way out and no plan and no Maui.  No Maui.  He stared, glassy eyed, into the endless dark as his thoughts spiraled out of control.

What should he do?  What could he do?  Even if he could find his way out of here on his own to get home, it would only be a matter of time before this insidious darkness caught up with him there.  Whatever monstrous entity had been spawned down here, there was little denying now that it was capable of destroying anything and everything.  And he really was just a crab, wasn’t he?  He was no hero.  He couldn’t even pretend to have any altruistic desire to save the rest of Lalotai or the surface world.  His world was far too narrow for that. He cared for little beyond himself, his treasures, a steady supply of food, and—

No, he was no hero at all.  Maui was the hero.

Tamatoa felt the searing ache of grief rise again.

Maui was gone.

Struggling to stand on legs still shaky with shock, he forced himself to rise from the dirt again.  He looked down at the bloodstained fishhook, gripped in his claw like a lifeline.  He supposed it was his again now, but that gave thought gave him no pleasure.  With a heaviness in his heart, he placed the hook back in its place on his shell with the rest of his treasures.  His eyes drifted over the remainder of his collection, a fair amount of which was damaged or lost from their misadventures on this trip.  He couldn’t bring himself to care.  It all seemed to have lost its luster now, anyway.  What was the use of showing off when there was no one to show off to?  And the main person he wanted to show off to had always been Maui.

But Maui was gone.

Maui was gone because that dark creature had killed him.

A sharp spike of anger jolted through him all at once, causing his still erratically flickering colors to blaze brighter for a brief moment.  This sentient darkness, this cursed war club, this whole forsaken realm—it had taken away his only friend just as, for the first time in centuries, Tamatoa had begun to feel like he wasn’t alone anymore.  There had been a tiny spot of hope and this thing had crushed it all.  Kindling up from that spark, his anger grew to fury.  A rumbling growl built low in his throat and his claws snapped reflexively, the sharp sound ringing across the empty expanse.

Maui was gone, but Tamatoa was still here.  And he was going to make this creature pay for what it had done.  There would be a reckoning for this.

Purpose filling him, his eyes fell on the dried blood on the sand.  The trail continued on, but only faintly.  He couldn’t see it, but even through the frazzled haze scrambling his senses he could still smell it.  As long as he could keep his focus on that, he’d hunt this dark creature to the ground.  He’d have to hurry, though, before it faded.  With that in mind, he thundered off as fast as his still somewhat wobbly legs could take him, following the trail deeper into the darkness.

He moved quickly, flicking his antennae ahead of him and trying to ignore the other confusing signals they were sending as he clung to the scent of Maui’s blood.  It was difficult to isolate with everything so jumbled still.  That electric shock had really done quite a number on him, apparently, and his senses were still going haywire.  He hoped the effects would wear off soon, as it was all terribly confusing.  He could have sworn he smelled coconut once, which was utterly ridiculous.  There were no coconuts in Lalotai and certainly not any down here.  For one brief dreamy moment, though, he wished there were.  He hadn’t had one since he left the surface world and he rather missed them, even if they were barely a crumb to him now at his size.

Tamatoa pushed his hunger away.  Yes, he was hungry.  He was also exhausted, in lingering pain, and still dealing with the twitchy aftershocks from his previous ordeal with the creature he was now hunting.  There was no time for any of that now, though.  So, he set himself with a single minded intensity to finding this creature and destroying it.  If he by some miracle survived that, he’d worry about the rest later.

He was clearly going the right way, though.  The farther he chased the trail of Maui’s blood, the more desolate and empty the landscape became.  Even the faintest glow of bioluminescent creatures was absent now.  Nor was there any trace of anything alive at all.  Even the terrain became flatter and more featureless, leaving nothing but the ever-present, wispy silt.  It was as if the land had been scoured, picked cleaner than any scavenger could.  It was eerie and unsettling.  Nevertheless, barren as it was, it at least made travel faster.  There was nothing to stumble over here, nor anything to hinder his progress, so he pressed on at a fast clip with only the scent to guide him.

He was starting to feel less addled as time went by, too.  The shakiness had left his limbs, letting him move with stronger strides.  He had nearly gotten his flickering bioluminescence under control as well, holding it steady now with only an occasional jolting flicker interrupting his glow.  His antennae still twinged uncomfortably, but even that was beginning to see some slight improvement.

That was about the extent of the good news, though.  The trail was growing sparse now, with wider gaps between faint signs.

Tamatoa stopped short, eyes fixed on the ground ahead of him.  The trail had vanished completely now, leaving no trace in the shifting dust.  “No,” he breathed.  “No, no, no.”

Urgently, he searched for any sign at all in the dark.  He’d come too far, he couldn’t lose it now!  He widened his search, desperate to find something—anything!  There was nothing, though, only the silent, still air and the stale silt, devoid of all life.

He knew it was hopeless, but Tamatoa kept looking.  He scraped at the dirt with his legs, trying to stir up any traces of the blood trail.  Surely there was something—just a little sign—something!  His efforts became increasingly frantic, skittering back and forth across the dusty earth.

It was useless, though.  He slammed a pincer into the earth and howled out a yell of frustration, filled with fury and anguish and curbed vengeance.  It echoed dully across the dusty plain.

And then there was an answering call.

Booming from all sides like a peal of thunder, the ringing horn-howl rolled through him—deafeningly loud.  Tamatoa shuddered, his antennae flattening back.  He cringed instinctively away and lowered to a half crouch as the awful noise tapered off into its buzzing finale.

Well, apparently no further searching was required.

Unbidden, terror streaked through him once again.  Knowing as he did now what the creature was capable of only did nothing to abate his fear.  If anything, it made it that much worse this time.  He was outmatched and underprepared—alone with no plan against an enemy that had already bested him once and could easily do far worse now.  He’d only survived the last encounter because Maui had come to his aid.

Maui.

Tamatoa’s markings flared and his eyes narrowed, filling with color and glowing brightly in the dark with righteous rage as he remembered his purpose.  He was going to make this creature suffer for what it had done.  For what it had taken from him.

Straightening from his crouch, he swallowed his fear and snapped his pincers in challenge.  “I am the mighty Tamatoa, the last of the Great Crabs of Lalotai!  Come out and face me!” he roared into the void.  A bit on the dramatic side perhaps, but, after all, one must stick to what one is good at.  And the old lines were often the best lines.

Tamatoa staunchly refused to think about the first time he’d used a variation of that line, though.  He couldn’t.  Not yet.

A heavy gust of wind blew back his antennae and Tamatoa squinted against it, searching the dark for its source.  He couldn’t see his adversary, but it was out there somewhere, he knew that much.

He didn’t have to look for long.  The whirlwind of dark clouds, illuminated by streaks of lightning, rose up again, no less horrifying for the second time.  It let out its chilling cry once more, its metallic buzz grating on Tamatoa’s already frayed nerves.  It loomed over him, ever-shifting as it whipped up the fine sand into the air and sent it spiraling towards him.

He certainly had its attention now.  Now what?

It would be a perfect time to put a cunning plan into motion, but Tamatoa had no plan—cunning or otherwise.  Of course, he was also well aware that he had no real chance of surviving this either, plan or no plan.  So instead, he just let out a defiant bellow and charged headlong at the creature, claws open and threatening.  Almost instantly, he was surrounded on all sides by howling wind and flashes of light that drew an itchy tingling across his armored exterior.  It was like trying to run against a hurricane.  It slowed him down, pushing him back and jostling him from side to side.  As before, however, it didn’t strike at him right away.  He snapped at it, but of course it was only wind and slipped through his pincers with ease.

He snapped left and right, trying to grasp anything solid—despite knowing what likely waited for him if he did.  It didn’t much matter as his efforts largely were in vain and not a single blow landed.  He was gearing up for another attack when he caught a glimpse of red-gold light somewhere within the clouds.  He had seen it before, pulsing at the center of whatever this thing was.  It seemed a good a target as any and he pushed his way towards it.

The closer he got, the fiercer the wind tried to force him back.  He was determined, though.  Goaded by grief and fury and the desire for righteous revenge, Tamatoa would not be driven away.  With eyes squinted against the wind that tore at him, he moved ahead step by laborious step towards the glowing light within the heart of the storm.

Then between one step and the next, the wind ceased clawing at him.  It raged still all around, but he found himself standing in a becalmed circle like the eye of a hurricane.  Tamatoa tensed and his eyes swiveled around him warily, waiting for an attack at any moment.  There was a glimmer of light ahead of him, gleaming like burnished gold in the swirling clouds.  Then it moved, emerging from the maelstrom into the circle of still air.

Tamatoa’s eyes went wide.  He stumbled back a step in shock, then another.  A wave of dizziness swept over him.  He stared, disbelieving his own eyes.  No, it couldn’t be.  He had been so sure.  He knew what he had smelled.  Didn’t he?  He had been a little fried by that lightning shock, though.  Could it really be?  Was it--?

“Maui?” he croaked, is voice coming out more like a choked squeak than anything dignified.

All at once, a feeling of immense relief coursed through Tamatoa and all his fury fled.  He’d been wrong.  He had never been happier to be wrong!  Maui was alive!  The demigod stood before him.  His tattooed body was caked with dried blood and marred by long, ugly gashes, but he was standing nevertheless.  A wide smile began to spread on Tamatoa’s face and he took an eager step forward.

Then he stopped.  Something was wrong.

Maui had taken a step forward as well, but there was nothing but menace in his stance.  It was only then that Tamatoa realized what he was holding.  Clasped in Maui’s hands was a familiar glittering artifact, one that Tamatoa had not seen for more than a thousand years—the war club.  It seemed to shed its own warm, entrancing light in the dark, the gold shimmering brightly and the sparkling rubies along its spine gleaming from within.  Maui held it two handed, brandished aggressively.  The odd light threw harsh shadows across the demigod’s face.

“Uh, Maui?  Maui, man?  You okay?” Tamatoa ventured tentatively, suddenly unsure and ill at ease.

Maui said nothing, but began to stalk slowly forward.  The demigod’s steps were measured and precise, a stark contrast to his usual easy, loose gait.  Confused, Tamatoa watched him come closer with growing apprehension.  Some deep instinct within him screamed of impending danger.

Then the demigod shifted his hold on the war club and the shadows fell from his face.

Tamatoa’s antennae swept up in alarm, his gaze fixed on that familiar face.  Maui’s features were twisted into a snarling rictus, but it was his eyes that filled Tamatoa with dread and caused his bioluminescence to flicker with shock.  The demigod’s eyes, usually a plain brown, were drowned in an empty blackness, blotting out even the white sclera.  The effect was deeply disturbing and Tamatoa backed away a few steps.

“Maui,” he tried again, “talk to me, man.”  Tamatoa was making an effort to keep the nervousness and concern out of his voice, but he was pretty sure that he was failing.  This was all wrong.  His antennae twitched anxiously.

Maui continued to advance without a word.  The demigod was getting closer now and Tamatoa took another few steps backwards.

Despite all their fighting, Tamatoa had only once believed that Maui might actually kill him.  In the end, he’d lost a leg that time, but not his life.  Now, however, there was a coldness in Maui’s expression that sent a chill through Tamatoa.  For the third time in his extraordinarily long life, he was truly afraid of Maui.

With an inhuman howl, the demigod attacked.

***

Maui was adrift in formless darkness.

Where was he?  What was going on?

He tried to voice his questions, but there was no sound, nor even the sensation of opening his mouth to speak.

It was then that he realized he couldn’t feel his body at all.  Was he dead?  He supposed that he should panic at that notion, but he was too detached and could feel no racing heart or shortness of breath that were the hallmarks of panic.  His thoughts were almost coolly objective as he floated in nothingness.

He tried to backtrack to the last thing he remembered.

There had been arguing—arguing and fighting.  Who was he fighting with?  His memories were blurred and obscure, but he put all his stubborness behind focusing in on them.  Slowly, the haze began to lift and he began to piece things together.

He’d been arguing with Tamatoa, then they were fighting against the storm clouds of some shapeless darkness.  Then what?

Somewhere in Maui’s drifting thoughts, a sliver of awareness began to return.  It felt as if there was some barrier around him.  How odd.  Regardless, he kept pushing at his memory.

He remembered a flash of light.  He had watched the lightning dance over Tamatoa’s shell, leaping from glittering trinket to trinket.  The crab hadn’t even screamed, instead he had just dropped silently like a stone, collapsing into the curling darkness.  Maui had watched in unbound horror as Tamatoa’s antennae and legs had twitched weakly, but without any vitality, like a reflexive spasm.  Certain that his old friend was dead, he had nevertheless fought his way towards the giant crab.

He was Maui, shapeshifter, demigod of the wind and sea, hero to all.  He wasn’t going to give up.

A thin crack appeared in the dispassionate barrier around his mind, spidering outward.  It created a narrow window, letting the tiniest wisp of perception begin to filter in, gossamer thin and fragile.  Distantly, he thought he could hear a whisper of voices.  He kept his focus on trying to remember what had happened, though.

He’d fought his way over to Tamatoa and forced the shifting darkness to let go of the crab’s limp form.  Denied its prize, it had seized him instead, pummeling him with raging wind until his grip loosened and his fishhook was ripped from his hand.  Then the clawing fingers of the gale had turned his own hook upon him.

He’d never once been on the receiving end of his hook’s destructive power.  It had cut deep, leaving him bloodied and battered.  To have his own weapon turned against him was a humbling experience and one that he never hoped to repeat.

In the midst of the struggle, he’d spared a glance back to his friend, crumpled and prone on the ground.  Wait—was that just another reflexive twitch?  Or had the crab opened his eyes?  Maui had strained to get a better look.  Yes!  Tamatoa’s eyes were open.  Maui had felt relief surge through him at the realization, but that small moment of distraction had given his attacker just the opening it needed.

The next thing he recalled, he was here.  Floating in this empty void.

That brought Maui back around to his initial question.  Where was he?

Maui concentrated hard, trying to discern where he was.  Where things had been simply empty before, now there was a numbness.  It was as if the world was dampened, rather than absent.  He could hear whispers now again, watery murmurs in the dark.  One was distantly familiar, but it were barely there at all.  There was a nearer voice emerging from the void, louder than the rest.  It hissed and rattled through his mind, rather than his ears.

Who are you? Maui tried to ask, though again there was no sound.

This time, however, there was a response.

A low voice whispered through his mind, echoing dully as if it were two voices instead of just one as the darkness spoke to him.  “You already know,” it intoned.

And somehow, inexplicably, Maui did.  The answer appeared in his mind as if he had known all along.  Kuikaa.

“Once, perhaps,” the darkness told him.  “A part of him at least.”

The low voice of the darkness was growing stronger in his mind, drowning out the other whispers.

The part of him he used to make the war club, Maui said as realization dawned.

“Indeed,” Kuikaa’s voice rumbled.

Uhh.  So, where’s the rest of him? Maui asked.  If he’d been able to smirk in this odd limbo, he would have been smirking.

The shadow of Kuikaa’s voice did not appear amused by his cheeky question.  “That is not your concern, demigod,” it said coldly, hissing the final word like a slur.

Maui would have liked to roll his eyes.  Oh, that’s right.  You’ve got some beef with the gods, he said flippantly.  Well, I had nothing to do with that.  So why don’t you let me go?

If possible, the voice in his mind turned even colder.  “Why should I?”

Maui supposed that telling this bitter fragment of Kuikaa’s soul that he needed to get back to the business of stopping him probably wouldn’t go over well.  Hey, he said in what he hoped was a smooth mental voice, I’ve got some things to take care of and—

“You’ve come to destroy me.”  The voice rang through his mind, echoing again like the voice of many.

Busted without saying a word, Maui faltered.  Uhh, well—

“You can’t, you know,” Kuikaa’s voice said coolly.  “None who possess the spark of divinity can.”

Then why not let me go, if I’m no threat to you? Maui wheedled, and I’m a demigod, after all, not a god.  Somewhere in the back of Maui’s mind, something was nagging at him, but he couldn’t figure out what.

“I know who you are,” Kuikaa told him.  “The gods favor you.  A mortal man they saved from the sea and made one of their own.  Maui, shapeshifter, demigod of the wind and sea, and hero of men.”  The voice sounded hollow and bitter.  “The gods spared no such favor for me.”

Hey, it hasn’t been all sunshine and happiness, Maui retorted automatically, perhaps a bit defensive.

“It doesn’t matter.  You’re one of them enough and therefore complicit,” Kuikaa said harshly, still echoing in his mind oddly  Then the voice continued, tone thoughtful.  “It was a boon that you ended up here.  Now the face that destroys the gods will be one of their own.”

The nagging feeling was back.  Maui felt like he was being diverted from something.  Why else would it be telling him all this?

Maui remembered that there had been another voice, but now it seemed faded and silent.  There had been a narrow window of perception, too, which he had largely forgotten once the darkness began to whisper to him.  He focused on that.

Kuikaa’s voice droned on, but Maui tuned it out as he tried to widen that crack through which the real world seemed to be shining through.

“Are you even listening to me, demigod?” the annoyed voice cut into his thoughts.

Maui was not.  He had the barest sense of motion and flickering light beyond whatever was numbing him to the world.  He thought he heard his name.

“Maui!”  The word echoed through his mind in overlapping voices.

One was within his own mind, the angry voice of Kuikaa trying to snap his attention back.  The other was farther away, yet more real, and held a desperate, pleading note.  He knew that voice.

In an overwhelming rush, sensation flooded back into him.  He could feel his own body again, the weight of his limbs dragged down in comparison to the light, floating feeling of being adrift in his own mind.  Every ache, strain, and wound hurt with a blinding intensity.  In his hands, he held something heavy—the gleaming war club.  With the return to his body, his vision returned too.  What he saw, however, filled him with horror.

There was a riot of color, neon streaks in the dark.  He was standing on Tamatoa’s shell, not far from where his hook was firmly planted once again.  Tamatoa’s head was turned to face him, wearing a look of raw fear.  There was glowing blue blood running down his neck from a series slashing wounds there, as well.  The matching blood painted on the war club in his hands left little doubt who had caused those wounds.

Appalled, Maui went to drop the war club in revulsion.  Unfortunately and to his ever-growing horror, his hands wouldn’t let go.  He tried to step back, but his legs refused to obey.  When he finally did move, it was not to retreat, but to renew the attack, moving lightning fast.

Awful realization shook him to the core.  He might be able to perceive the world again, but he was still merely a passenger in his own body.  He tried to shout a warning, but he couldn’t speak.  All he could do was observe as he struck again at his friend, aiming the heavy war club at the back of the crab’s head.

Tamatoa threw a pincer up to block the club.  It protected his head, but added a fresh dent to a claw already pockmarked with evidence of previous blows.  With his other claw, Tamatoa made a hasty grab for Maui, but missed as Maui’s unresponsive body darted away nimbly.  “Stop!” Tamatoa entreated, “c’mon, I know you’re in there, man.”

Maui tried again to yell.  Yes!  Yes, I am!  But once again, no words came out.

Meanwhile, his body continued the attack, leaping off to strike at Tamatoa’s underside.  He couldn’t regain control!  He could watch what he was doing, but could not stop it.

In his mind, he bellowed a name.  Kuikaa!

The voice that had spoken to him in the voice rose up in his mind.  “What do you want, demigod?” Kuikaa’s voice echoed.

Stop this!  Maui demanded.

“No,” the voice said flatly.

He’s my friend.  Don’t do this.

“The crab is not your friend,” Kuikaa’s voice said.  “He was trying to kill you.  Conflict is what drew me to you.”

No, he is my friend!  Maui insisted again.  And it’s more complicated than that!

“I find that hard to believe,” was the droll response.

As they argued, Maui’s body continued to attack.  He was on Tamatoa’s back again, well out of reach of the claws trying to catch him.  He struck brutally at the crab’s shell with the war club, not far from where the mantis shrimp had struck him on their journey down here.  It drew an agonized shriek from his friend.  Even obscured by glittering treasure, Maui could still see thin cracks radiating from the point of impact.  He had to stop this and fast.

Fighting for control, he tried to will his limbs into responding to his commands.  Still, his body refused to obey.  Desperately, he turned back to the argument with Kuikaa.

We’ve had problems, yes, he told the disembodied voice, but we’ve been friends for centuries. 

Driven perhaps by pain, Tamatoa spun sharply and managed to fling Maui off his back.  As Maui’s body hit the ground, the war club flew from his hand and tumbled off into the swirling clouds of darkness that spun around them.  Hopeful that the control over his body was broken with the club out of the picture, Maui tried again to force his limbs into motion. 

His body still refused to respond.

Dismay overtaking him, Maui tried again to reason with Kuikaa.  Please, he practically begged.  Yes, we fought, but we’re still friends.

The voice was silent, unmoved by his pleas.  Maui’s body rose from the ground to continue the attack, without the war club now.

Maui didn’t know what to do.  He was immobile in his own body, unable to fight back against the force controlling him.  How had Moana reasoned with Te Ka, he found himself wondering.  How had she calmed the angry goddess?

Then Maui recalled the tale Pele had told him and an idea came to him.  Kuikaa, he began entreatingly, I know you lost your friend.  I know that’s why you’re doing this.

“Lokino,” the voice said, quiet and subdued.

Uh, what?

Maui was distracted, his attention split between arguing with Kuikaa’s angry spirit and fighting for control of his body again.  His body had slammed into Tamatoa’s side, knocking him off balance and sending him flailing to the ground.  The crab was clearly exhausted, but still struggled to get back up.

“Lokino.  That was his name,” Kuikaa repeated calmly, as if nothing at all was going on around them.  His voice held a different quality now, a softer one that didn’t echo so ominously in Maui’s mind.

Well, Lokino wouldn’t want this, would he?  Maui asked, his inner voice strained as he tried and failed to stop what was happening—what his body was doing without him.  With a mighty heave, he flipped the giant crab onto his back.

The voice of Kuikaa was silent and unresponsive once more.

Would he want you to destroy the entire world? Maui pressed, hoping fervently that whoever this Lokino was, he wouldn’t actually have wanted that.  You know it won’t bring him back.

There was still no reply.

He had climbed up to stand on Tamatoa’s underside now and that couldn’t mean anything good.  Hopeless though it seemed to be, Maui kept trying—imploring and hoping to appeal to some shred of humanity in Kuikaa’s twisted soul.  Tamatoa isn’t one of the gods, he’s not responsible for Lokino’s death.  You lost your friend, please don’t take mine.

Maui’s hands closed around the remaining leg on Tamatoa’s left side.

Kuikaa!  Maui barked urgently in his own mind.  He struggled to gain control of his hands, bending every bit of his will towards making them move.  No!  I can’t do this!  he shouted at the impassive spirit, nearly in a panic now himself.  Not this.

“Maui, please stop,” Tamatoa pleaded, eyes round.  “You’re my friend, Maui.  Please snap out of it!”

There came a final whisper in the darkness.

***

Tamatoa was running out of strength to keep going.  Even sans hook and shapeshifting, Maui was a formidable force to be reckoned with.  Idly, it occurred to Tamatoa that Maui had clearly been holding back in their previous fights.  That was a frightening notion, really, and if they survived this, he was going to make sure never to get in a real fight with Maui again.  Now, however, it was Tamatoa’s turn to hold back.  He was only defending himself, not wanting to harm his friend who was obviously not in control.  Empty as Maui’s eyes were, though, there was something flickering on the peripheral that made Tamatoa believe that his friend was still in there somewhere.  He had to believe it.

Tamatoa didn’t know how much longer he could keep this up, though.  He knew he was in bad shape.  Still weak from the shock he’d taken earlier, now he was also bleeding badly and hairline cracks were beginning to spider through his shell.  On top of that, utter exhaustion was sapping him of all energy.

It was no surprise when he’d been knocked to the ground.  He was just so tired.  Part of him wished he could just stay down, but he had to get back up.  He had to keep going.  Before he could get up, though, Maui had flipped him.  Dread began to take hold as he squirmed and tried fruitlessly to get back upright.

And then Maui had grabbed his leg.  A bolt of fear shot through him, as electrifying as any lightning strike.  Old memories flashed through him and he froze, terror gripping him down to the depths of very being.  No, not again!

Begging now, he tried one more time to get through to Maui—one last ditch effort.  It seemed to fall on deaf ears.  The demigod’s hands tightened and Tamatoa screwed his eyes shut, heart racing as he anticipated the worst.

The iron grip on his leg fell away.

He opened one eye, then the other—turning them both to look at the demigod perched on him.  Maui was stumbling back, his hands held away as if burned.  He looked up with eyes returning to their normal color, the blackness receding from them, to meet Tamatoa’s gaze.

“Tamatoa?” he mumbled, somewhat dazed.

Oh, thank the gods.  “Maui?  You all there, man?” he asked tentatively, peering at him intently just to be sure this wasn’t a trick.

“Ugh, I think so—” Maui began, then trailed off, shaking his head to clear it.

The tension bled out of Tamatoa and relief rushed in, his legs going slack in the air.  “I thought you were dead,” he blurted, trying unsuccessfully to keep the tiny quiver of emotion out of his voice.

“No such luck,” Maui joked weakly.  The demigod’s gaze swept over Tamatoa, taking in his flipped, battered, and bloody state, then slid guiltily away.  When he looked back up, his eyes held a haunted shadow.  “Tamatoa, I am so sorry.  I couldn’t stop, I tri—”

“Save it, man,” he said, quickly brushing it all off as if it was no big deal.  “You can apologize extensively to me once we get out of this,” he went on with the first hint of a smirk he’d been able to summon up all day.  “But first we gotta deal with that.”

He jabbed a claw to direct Maui’s attention to where the darkness was thrashing and howling, a chaotic tempest of clouds and lightning out of which vague shapes rose and fell.  It almost seemed like it was fighting with itself, tearing apart and reforming again and again.  Then again, perhaps it was just regrouping for a fresh assault.

“Right.”  Maui straightened, the confusion and guilt in his face replaced by something more familiar—a cocksure confidence and readiness to fight.  With a smooth, well-practiced motion Maui swept his filthy hair up into a topknot, ignoring the dried blood and dirt caked in it.  He glanced to Tamatoa, who was still laying upside-down in the dusty silt.  “You okay?  You good to do this?”

Well, okay was open to interpretation, but Tamatoa flicked an antenna nevertheless.  “Well man, I will be, but you know—”  He wiggled his legs in the empty air, making a wordless but obvious statement.

Maui cracked a half smile.  “On it.”  He jumped down without a second thought to brace himself under the edge of Tamatoa’s shell.  “You know, one of these days, we’re really gonna have to figure out a way for you to get turned over on your own again,” he quipped with a grunt.  Without waiting for a reply, he took some of Tamatoa’s weight onto his shoulders and counted down.  “Ready?  Three… two… one… now!”

Tiredly, Tamatoa threw his weight to the side.  With the added boost from Maui, he was back upright with ease.  “Better.  Thanks,” he rumbled absently as he shook the dirt off himself.

Maui raised an obnoxious eyebrow, “you’re wel—”

He never got to finish that supremely annoying statement, as the air was split by the earth-shattering howl of the dark creature again.  In unison, they both looked up in alarm.  The creature still seemed disorganized and confused, but it was rapidly regaining solidarity and racing towards them nevertheless with a sinister speed.  Lightning-streaked tendrils shot towards them, grasping relentlessly.

Maui and Tamatoa exchanged a quick glance.

“Here,” Tamatoa reached hastily back to where Maui’s fishhook was on his back, knocked askance by the fall, but otherwise unharmed.  He snagged it in a claw and held it out without hesitation.  “You’re gonna need this.”

Maui flashed him a grin as the hook was shoved into his hands, an eager light in his eyes.  “Thanks,” he said easily.

Maui widened his stance, fishhook raised and aglow.  Tamatoa lifted his claws, clicking them in readiness.

Then they were engulfed once more in the howling storm.

They stuck close to each other now, despite the raging wind’s efforts to push them apart and isolate them.  It roared all around them, charged with a tingling electricity in the air.  Tamatoa wanted to shy away from it, the memory of what it could do still quite fresh, but he held fast.  A semi-solid tendril of smoke and cloud grabbed for him, but was knocked away by Maui’s hook.  He batted others away from them with his own claws, careful not to touch them long enough to get jolted again.  Together, they were holding their ground well and putting up a good defense despite their mutual exhaustion.  That wasn’t going to be enough on its own, though.

Over the howling din, Maui shouted to him.  “We need to find the war club!”

“Yeah, but then what?” he called back, snapping at another sinuous arm of the darkness as it snatched for Maui from behind.  “You said you couldn’t destroy it!”

“No one divine can!” Maui corrected, stressing the word.  He swore floridly as another creeping curl of the creature grasped at his ankle.

Tamatoa kicked viciously at the sneaking low tendril, sending it retreating back into the shadows.  “Well, that’s you.  So, you can’t destroy it,” he confirmed, a touch annoyed at having to state the obvious in the middle of all this.  There was a sharp tug on one of his hind pincers and he yelped as he was yanked backwards.

Maui was there in an instant, prying the clinging tendril off him with his hook and freeing him from its grasp.  “Tamatoa,” Maui yelled insistently over the wind.  “You do it.”

Tamatoa pulled up so suddenly that he nearly stumbled.  “What?” he sputtered.  “No.  You’re the hero, man.  Not me!”  Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, the thick fingers of the storm descended upon with a vengeance.  Tamatoa felt Maui scramble up his leg, hurrying to the apex of his shell.  Between his pincers and Maui’s hook, they fended the new onslaught off.

“Kuikaa spoke to me!  Before he let me go,” Maui babbled, though the words made no sense.  “He told me you could do it.”

Tamatoa ducked as Maui swiped at a wisp of darkness over his head.  “Wha-?  Who in Ta’aroa’s name is Kuikaa?” he asked, blindsided by what sounded like sheer nonsense.  He paused to fling away a smoky coil that was snaking towards Maui.

“The one who made the club!  Part of him is still inside it,” Maui insisted, dodging as another tendril descended towards him only to be intercepted by Tamatoa’s claw.  “Trust me!”

Those were dangerous words.

There was no time for doubt, though—not in the middle of this pandemonium.  Long ago, he had trusted Maui completely.  He didn’t know or understand what Maui was talking about, but there was no other option.  Tamatoa would just have to trust him again now.  He steadied himself, taking a fraction of a moment to force the lingering remnants of doubt away, and then relented, “I trust you.”

“Good!”  Maui looked relieved, even as he beat yet another tendril away.  “I’ll keep it off you, you find the club!”

With a burst of blue light, Maui leapt from his back and shifted.  It was hard to make out in the dark, but Tamatoa could just barely see the outline of a hawk’s wings silhouetted by his own glow.  The shrill cry that followed, wavering as it was swept up in the heavy wind, confirmed it.  The attacking darkness was driven back, giving Tamatoa enough of an opening to start searching.  His eyes swiveled independently, darting to take in as much of his surroundings as he could in the briefest moment possible.  However, there was little to see but flashes of forked light in the midst of the shrieking chaos of the dark storm.

Then he spotted it, a faint glimmer of gold in the dark.  It shined with its own warm light still, like a faint beacon.  Tamatoa wasted no time, heading for it as swiftly as his tired legs could carry him.  He put his head down, straining against the headwind seeking to drive him back once again.  True to his word, Maui was keeping the worst of it off him, though.

Strangely, there seemed to actually be some reluctance in the amorphous darkness now.  The closer he got to his glittering objective, the less enthusiastic the attacks against them became.  There was no time to question it, but he suspected there was something going on that he wasn’t aware of.  Maui clearly knew something, but there was no way to ask him as he swooped and dove above him in the shape of a hawk.  Tamatoa had elected to trust him, though, and so he’d just have to take it on faith.

The clouds seemed to thin around him.  The war club, Haunui, was there—resting unceremoniously on the ground.  He stared at it for a long moment, transfixed by its enticing gleam.  Then the high call of a hawk, circling above him, broke through his mesmerized haze.  He had to destroy it, but how?  Maui hadn’t said.  It was a small thing, though.  Perhaps he could just crush it.  Could it be that simple?  He reached down for it, delicately closing the tips of a pincer around its glittering handle.

There was a sudden pull at his mind and all the roaring noise and flashes of light and the tug of the wind vanished in the span of a heartbeat.  He was thrown into jarring, enormous silence.

Tamatoa wanted to panic, but he had little time to prepare a good, proper freakout before a voice crept into his head.

“You are Tamatoa,” the voice intoned.  It wasn’t a question.

He tried to speak, but his voice wouldn’t work right.  Irritated at being denied the sound of his own voice, he stubbornly tried again.  Still nothing.  Flustered, a stream of angry obscenities came to mind.

“Such language,” the voice admonished sternly.

Startled, Tamatoa withdrew—or it seemed like it anyway.  Everything was so disjointed and strange, it was hard to get a handle on.  Tentatively, he tried directing a question at the unseen speaker.  Who are you?  Then he paused.  Are you Kuikaa?

The voice seemed almost amused.  “You catch on quick for a crab.”

Affronted, Tamatoa would liked to have narrowed his eyes, at least he would have if he could feel them anyway.  What’s that supposed to mean? he shot at Kuikaa’s voice.

The voice didn’t bother to acknowledge his challenging words.  “You’re the one he calls his friend.  I need to know the truth," it demanded instead.

Tamatoa hesitated.  Unbidden, memories both good and bad were dredged up.  He tried to hide them away, lest the voice in his mind begin to sift through them.

It seemed to be too late for that, though, and the voice turned cruel.  “He abandoned you, didn’t he?  Sent you away to please the humans,” the voice needled him, reverberating strangely.  “You were just a crab to him, not worthy of his attention.”

Feeling very small, Tamatoa tried to push the voice away from his mind, but it would not be removed.

“He maimed you,” it drawled, its dual echo a haunting sound.

Tamatoa felt the familiar prick of bitterness bite at him, stinging like an old wound made raw again.

“He’s not your friend.”

Something shook loose in Tamatoa at those words, something deeply buried.  No, he thought in a snarl at the tormenting voice.  Maui isn’t my friend.

There was a pregnant pause and a distant impression of triumph, but its victory was cut short as Tamatoa went on.

He raised me, he told the disembodied voice fiercely, pushing his thoughts towards it aggressively just to make himself clear.  He’s more than a friend, he’s family.

There was a strange sound in the previously silent space, like the soft tapping of many legs.

The voice returned in a melancholy tone now, without the hollow echo ringing behind it.  “I had a friend like that once,” it said cryptically.  “I want to be with him again.”

Tamatoa was perplexed and he was trying to think up a proper response when the voice continued.

“Destroy the war club.  I won’t stop you.  Set me free of this.”

What?  How?  Tamatoa tried to ask, but his thoughts were lost to void.  It didn’t matter, though.  The answer was actually quite simple.

The world returned to him in a rush, wind wailing all around him.  Maui was next to him, back in human form.  His hook painted glowing arcs as he swung it at an ever encroaching darkness, closing in around them.  He was shouting something, but his voice was stolen away by the shrieking storm.

He looked down at the war club, carefully held in his claw.  It was darkly beautiful, the sparkling rubies decorating the burnished gold were lit from within with a blood red glow that seemed to dance in the darkness.  It had once been a prized piece in his collection, hard won and cherished—until he’d lost a friend and a leg over it.  It would be a shame to destroy something so shiny, though.

The oozing darkness was pressing closer, lacking definition now as if unable to hold any particular shape.  It left no space untouched around them, driving Maui back until he was backed up against Tamatoa’s leg.  He was yelling something desperate, but again his voice was whipped away by the wind.

Tamatoa took hold of the club with both his pincers.  Putting all his considerable strength behind them, he clamped down upon the bright, golden artifact.  There was a shrieking sound, high and full of rage.  Then the club shattered, ground to glittering dust between Tamatoa’s claws.

The shriek cut off abruptly and there was a roar as the wind spiraled away, out of control as it violently expanded into the space around them.  For a strange moment, Tamatoa thought he saw the wispy outline of a spider emerge from the darkness and scurry away.  He brushed it off as a trick of the shadows, though.  It wasn’t important, anyway.  The storm was dissipating and vanishing into the ether, but not without a cost.  There was a rumble from high above and a booming crack that resonated throughout the emptiness.  A sound like thunder rolled in, spreading like wildfire all around them.

Then there was light.

It streamed brilliantly down from above and Tamatoa looked up in surprise, blinking his eyes against the harsh brightness—stronger than any bioluminescent glow, stronger even than the watery light of Lalotai.  It was painful after untold days underground.

Then rocks began to rain down around them and his eyes widened as he realized what was happening.  Whatever ceiling lay far overhead, it was collapsing and collapsing fast.  Huge slabs of stone began to break away and the light from above grew brighter and more dazzling.  It was all happening so quickly, spanning only the barest of seconds.

It was all coming down now and there was no place to run.  Tamatoa leapt forward, grabbing Maui in a claw.  With seconds to spare, he shielded his head with his other claw and shoved Maui under the shelter of his shell.

The blazing light from above was snuffed out as the world collapsed upon them and everything went dark again.

Chapter Text

“Tamatoa.”

A familiar voice pulled him out of the dark.  He was tired and wanted to sleep.

“Hey, Tamatoa.”

He was also monstrously uncomfortable.  The more awake he became, the more everything hurt.  Pain and aches swarmed him and there was constricting pressure all around.

“You have to get up.”

He had to do no such thing.

“Tamatoa!” the voice was sharper now, more insistent.

Reluctantly, he opened his eyes.  It was dark, but that was to be expected.  It had been dark for days now, after all.  Was it ever going to be light again?  He tried to move but found he was tightly wedged, sharp rocks all around him.  One claw was pinned against his neck, holding off rocks that loomed above his head.  The other was caught beneath him, pressed between his body and the ground.  Everything else was stuck, immobile amongst jagged rocks hemming him in.  Only a precarious, yet fortuitous, balance of the stones piled around him kept Tamatoa from being utterly crushed by their weight.  The first decent stroke of luck they'd had since setting out.

The feeling of being trapped spurred him sharply.  He came back to full wakefulness all at once and immediately began to struggle against the rocks holding him fast.  His body jerked, but he couldn’t pull any of his limbs free.  Worse still, every movement sent a hail of gravel and dirt upon him as he fought to get loose.

“Whoa!  Whoa!  Wait!” a voice cried as his thrashing grew more frantic.

The familiar voice broke through the emerging panic instantly and Tamatoa calmed his fruitless struggles.  “Maui?”

“Yep,” the demigod replied, his voice coming from somewhere out of sight below him.

“I can’t move.”  His voice sounded small, even to himself.

“Don’t move,” Maui told him firmly.  “The rest of the rocks might collapse.”

Tamatoa didn’t like that.  Maui was probably right, as it was only by some incredible stroke of luck that the rocks were balanced the way they were.  Nevertheless, he wanted out now!  “But—”

“No ‘buts,’” Maui instructed again.  “Just hold still.  Trust me, remember?”

This time, Tamatoa didn’t hesitate at the notion of trusting him.  “Yeah, yeah.  Not moving,” he assented, though somewhat grumpily.

He saw the flash of Maui’s hook beneath him, somewhere in the space left between his body and the ground—held by his pinned claw.  Then there was a scampering of tiny feet.  Just barely visible in his faint glow, he caught a glimpse of a tiny lizard climbing upwards through the massive stone slabs.  Then Maui, in lizard form, slipped into a gap between the rocks and vanished.

Moments passed anxiously.  Time seemed to drag so slowly that, for a brief flash of irrational doubt, Tamatoa thought maybe Maui had left him here.  He shook that thought away, though.  Maui had stuck with him through all this, he wouldn’t disappear now.  Then there was the sound of stone scraping on stone above him.  Dust cascaded down and he ducked his eyestalks to avoid it.

“Maui?” he called up through the debris.  “Is that you?”

“Nope, it’s Te Fiti,” came the mildly sarcastic reply.

Tamatoa couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter.  “Well good,” he shot back.  “She probably smells better than certain demigods do!”

There was the dull scraping of more rocks being moved above him.

“Hey,” Maui called back down, feigning offense.  “You’re one to talk!  Don’t forget, I’ve recently been in your mouth, barnacle breath!”

“And you tasted terrible,” Tamatoa replied primly.  “Probably would have made me horribly sick.  It’s for the best that I let you go.”

More dust and dirt rained down as stones were shoved away.  Tamatoa thought he heard laughter on the other side.

“Let me go?  You fell for the oldest trick in the book,” Maui called back down between amused snickering.  “One we’ve used before, at that!”

Some of the pressure from the rocks wedged across his back started to lift, just a little.  Tamatoa didn’t dare move yet, though.

“Hmph,” Tamatoa replied with only a little petulance, having no real defense against that truth.  Nevertheless, he allowed himself to remember things from the other side of the millennia.  “Well, you used me as bait back then.  Remember that bat thing that almost killed me?”

“Ha!  You held your own, didn’t you?  You weren’t exactly defenseless,” Maui retorted, though his voice sounded strained as he hefted stones away.

Tamatoa’s face twisted into a smugly satisfied smirk in the dark at the memory.  “Well, that’s true,” he drawled.  The creature had been delicious.  “But next time, you get to be the bait.”  The banter just flowed naturally and it didn’t occur to him that he’d implied there would be a next time.

There was no response from Maui, but the sound of stones shifting was getting closer and with every slab moved, the pressure on him released just a little more.

Silence in a conversation never suited Tamatoa, so he filled the empty space with whatever came to mind first.  “So, is there anything to eat up there?”

There was a short bark of laughter, much closer now.  “Don’t you ever think about anything else?”

“Hey, I’m hungry,” he stressed, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  “It’s been a long day!”

“Tell me about it,” Maui said ruefully, his voice quite near now.

Tamatoa would be happy to tell him about it.  At great length!  “Well, if you insist—”

“That wasn’t an invitation!” Maui hastily corrected, though with a wry note in his tone.

“But I could sing,” Tamatoa offered, quite reasonably.

“No!”

“But—”

“Oh no, I think these rocks are getting too heavy!” Maui teased.  He sounded like he was just on the other side of the closest slab.  “You might be trapped in there forever!  Especially if you start singing!”

Tamatoa snorted.  “Everyone is a critic,” he muttered.

Maui fell silent again.  Then the heaviest of the rocks overhead, a tilted slab that covered most of Tamatoa’s body, shifted and was slowly pushed clear of his head.  It let up the pressure on the claw pinned behind his neck and, with a sigh of relief, he was able to pull it free at last.  Then the heavy slab was shoved away completely, tumbling away with a thunderous crash.  With it gone, he was able to get his other pincer, trapped under him by the weight of the rocks pressing down on him, free as well.

With the rocks over him removed, he could see that it was still dark out—but more like the regular darkness of night, rather than the featureless void of before.  He also could easily see Maui, who was perched at eye level on the rocks nearby and breathing hard from the effort of clearing them away.  The demigod was a mess.  His hair was a tangled disaster, full of dirt and gunk.  His skin still covered in dried blood, slowly flaking away in the night air, and layers of rock dust and grime.  Under that, he was crisscrossed with red welts and slashing wounds, slowly oozing and barely scabbed over, punctuated by ugly bruises.

It hurt just to look at and Tamatoa felt a pang of sympathy.  “You look awful,” he commented.

Maui laughed, although the movement clearly made him wince.  “Well, crab cake, so do you.”

That was probably fair.  He certainly felt awful.

Legs still stuck in the rocks, Tamatoa nevertheless turned his eyes to look himself over in the dim light.  There was blood, dried to a dark blue-green, all down his face and neck from a series of gashes and vast blotches of blackened spots across his exoskeleton from where the lightning had burned him.  His treasure was a disorganized mess, much of it pulverized, destroyed, or lost.  And although he couldn’t see the extent of it, he could feel the myriad of thin cracks weakening his shell under the treasure.

That was going to be a problem and a big one.  He didn’t want to think about that yet, though.

Something of his worry and dismay must have showed up on his face, though, because Maui spoke up quickly—too quickly, really.  “Hey, you’ll be okay.”  Then he jumped down to start pushing more heavy stones away with gusto.  “Let’s get the rest of these rocks out of here,” he said more brightly than necessary, likely to distract him.

Tamatoa let himself be distracted.  He turned his eyes away from the wreckage of himself and flicked an antenna.  “Right,” he agreed, setting his claws to the task as well.

Working together, they managed to get the rocks moved away with ease.  It was only after his legs were finally freed and he was able to climb out of the rubble that Tamatoa looked around to take in their surroundings.

What was once an utter wasteland of silent darkness was now alive with color.  It was not the garish, bright neons of Lalotai, but instead was dominated by muted glowing tones of pale blue, soft green, and cool purple.  Upon closer inspection, the pulsing colors were actually formed of millions of tiny round glowing dots—clumped together in groups or arranged in elaborate patterns, like constellations outlining the contours and shapes of the terrain.  It was actually quite lovely and Tamatoa found himself gazing at it appreciatively.

Then he looked up.  His eyes followed the lines of towering stone walls that emerged from the ground nearby like the inside of some enormous volcanic spire.  The summit was open, broken and cracked where the ceiling had collapsed upon them.  Tamatoa sank slowly down to the ground, staring in wonderment above him.

He could see the stars.

There were millions of them on the other side of the open crater, just as he remembered, glittering far above like tiny diamonds.  They were beautiful.

***

Maui glanced over at his friend, curious at his sudden slump upon climbing out of the rocks.  Tamatoa was staring upward, completely enraptured.  Maui looked up to see what the crab was so enthralled by.  It was only the night sky, unfolding above them on the other side of the open crater overhead.  He looked back to the silent crab.  “Tamatoa?” he ventured.

There was a long pause before the crab replied and when he did, it was far more subdued than Maui had heard him in centuries.  “I thought I’d never see them again,” he said quietly.  His voice held a touch of awe, much like it had the first time the crab seen the stars after Maui had brought him out of Lalotai.

Maui was taken aback.  He hadn’t really considered that Tamatoa might miss things as simple as the stars and the night sky—things Maui took for granted.  He was at a loss for what to say, though.  He knew that it was unlikely that Tamatoa would get another chance to see them after this.  So, he said nothing and instead just sat down beside him.  He leaned tiredly against the crab’s massive leg and let his own gaze drift up to the stars as well.  They really were lovely.

They stayed that way a long time, just staring placidly as the stars wheeled overhead.  After the absolute nightmare they’d endured, it was a pleasant respite and neither seemed in a hurry to shatter the peace.  Tamatoa didn’t even complain about being hungry.

The peace couldn’t last forever, though.  This time, however, the interruption was none of their own doing.

Maui was very nearly drifting off to sleep, his eyelids growing heavy, when he caught a flicker of a warm red light growing in his peripheral vision.  There was only one being it could have been and Maui let out a quiet, disgruntled groan.  The sound prompted Tamatoa to shift behind him, reluctantly tearing his gaze away from the stars to look questioningly at Maui.  Then the enormous eyes narrowed in dislike as he spotted the light as well.

Thoroughly exhausted, Maui closed his eyes wearily and sighed.  He made absolutely no effort to get up or even to appear remotely respectful as Pele appeared before them.

If Pele was offended at his lack of respect, she gave no indication of it.  When Maui opened his eyes again, she was looking at him with something akin to sympathy, her imperious features softer than usual.

Despite that, her greeting was still quite brusque.  “Maui.”

“Pele,” he replied coolly, in no mood to dissemble.

The volcano goddess brushed off the disrespect and got right to the point.  “The war club is destroyed.”

Maui wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement, but he wasn’t feeling very cooperative towards the goddess right now—particularly since her meddling had nearly ruined everything—and so he said nothing.

When Maui made no reply, Pele went on.  “How did you do it?”  To Maui’s surprise, she actually sounded rather impressed.  She clearly hadn’t been expecting success.

“I didn’t.”

Now the fiery goddess looked at him with narrowed eyes, pique beginning to edge into her expression at his cheek.  “But the war club is gone?” she pressed.

Even as tired as he was, Maui couldn’t stop the smirk that drew across his face.  Nor could he resist taking an opportunity to mess with the goddess just a bit.  After all, she had caused him an enormous amount of trouble and maybe a little payback was due.  He cast a mischievous look up to Tamatoa, who was glaring silently at the goddess.

“Yep,” Maui answered vaguely, saying nothing more.

Pele’s irritation was rising.  “Then what did you do?” she demanded, fire growing in her eyes.

As the goddess’s temper was pricked, Maui decided that perhaps he didn’t want to push this too far.  It would be terribly embarrassing to survive all that they had, only to be done in by Pele over something trivial.  “I didn’t do it,” he said finally, still grinning slyly.  He aimed his thumb back towards Tamatoa.  “He did.”

Pele’s eyes widened very slightly and swept to giant crab, who gave her a smug smirk in return.

“You?” she said, looking up with barely veiled disbelief.

A sneer curled Tamatoa’s lip.  “What?  Didn’t think a worthless crab could get the job done?” he taunted snidely, his tone biting as he threw her words back at her.

If the infuriated expression on her face was anything to go by, Pele’s temper was now quite close to erupting.  Maybe they were pressing their luck just a little too much.  Maui elbowed Tamatoa’s leg sharply in warning and got to his feet, propping himself up on his hook and casually draping an arm over the handle.

“You were right,” Maui told her, firmly but without the attitude now.  “No god or demigod could unmake the club.  But Tamatoa isn’t either of those.  He was able to destroy it.  Kuikaa is at peace and the darkness is gone.”

The goddess still looked skeptical, glancing between Maui and the crab.  After a long moment of consideration, however, she finally relented and nodded slowly.  “I see.”

Then, to Maui’s surprise, she stepped gracefully around him to stand before Tamatoa.  The sneer slid from the crab’s face, replaced by something a touch more wary as the goddess approached.  Crooking a finger, she beckoned him to come closer.  The crab hesitated, but nevertheless cautiously lowered his head down to her level as best he could.  She looked him in the eye steadily.

“Tamatoa,” she began, using the crab’s name for the first time.  There was an easy formality to her elegant voice.  “By destroying Haunui, you have saved us all.  The gods will not forget what you have done.  Thank you.”

Tamatoa’s eyes grew round with surprise and they only grew wider as the goddess reached forward to place the palm of her hand on his blood-caked face.  There was a very subtle twitch to his antennae as the goddess fixed her intense gaze upon him, as if searching his face for something unknown.  Tamatoa just stared, dumbfounded and at a loss for something to say for once.

Then the goddess stepped away without a word, divulging nothing about her thoughts, and began to leave.

“Hey, wait!” Maui called after her.

She turned, raising one delicate eyebrow in question.

Maui scratched his neck, suddenly feeling awkward.  “Uh, any advice on how we get back out of here?”  He hated to ask, but at this point he was ready to take the easy way out.

A wry smile graced Pele’s face, smugly amused at being asked for directions by such a renowned navigator.  “The way out is up,” she informed him.  With a fluid, sweeping movement of her arm, she indicated a ledge high above.  “A lava tube there will lead back to Lalotai.  The way to the surface world, as you can surely see, is open above you.”  With that, she began gliding away again.

Then she paused.  Turning, she gave the pair of them speculative look.  “Perhaps I underestimated you both,” she admitted.  Her gaze lingered on Tamatoa, “not so worthless after all.”  It was probably as close to issuing an apology as the mercurial goddess would ever get.

The crab opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Pele before he could utter a single word.

“However,” she warned, lifting her chin haughtily.  “Let me offer you both some free advice.  If you two idiots ever let your petty problems get this out of control and cause this sort of trouble again, know that there will be consequences.” Her eyes blazed fiercely and Maui had little doubt she would back up that threat.

Then she was gone in a flash of fiery light and sulfurous fume.

Maui and Tamatoa shared a glance.

“So dramatic,” Tamatoa said, with a grandiose roll of his eyes.

Maui laughed, wincing as it made the slashes across his chest ache.  On the other side of the crater overhead, it was growing lighter.  The stars were slowly flickering out as pale streaks of pink light began to warm the sky.  After days in darkness, it was a relief to see the sunlight again.  In the rising light, he could see the outline of a tunnel carved into the rocks behind the ledge Pele had pointed out—the route back to Lalotai.

It was a long way up, but not an impossible climb.  There was enough rubble piled up that Tamatoa would typically have no trouble reaching the edge of the wall and climbing up from there.  Maui glanced at his friend.  The crab was in pretty bad shape, worse than he’d ever seen him before.  Could he make the climb?  Well, one way to find out.

“You ready to get out of here?”

Tamatoa’s eyes flicked to him, then swiveled up towards the tunnel.  He didn’t look happy about the climb, but nevertheless got slowly to his feet.  “Absolutely.”

They started up the pile of rubble, picking a way carefully up to where it met the rocky walls.  It was slow going and Maui knew he could have just flown up faster, but he stuck by Tamatoa anyway.  It was nice to have someone to talk to on the way up, after all.  They were both pretty beat up, too, and it was probably for the best to keep close.

Maneuvering from ledge to ledge up the walls was daunting as they climbed ever higher.  The rocks were old and brittle and any misstep would have them plummeting a long way back down.  They kept moving, though their chatter had died down as they concentrated on the precarious climb.  It was tiring work made more difficult by the battered state they were both in.  The gashes across Maui’s torso had opened again and were bleeding sluggishly, but he ignored it to keep going.  Just one last thing to overcome and then it should be smooth sailing after this.

Maui reached for the next handhold, a narrow strip of rock jutting out above him.  Just as he pulled his weight onto it, the rock crumbled in his hand and he began to fall.  Everything suddenly happened very quickly.  With a yelp, he frantically dug his hook into the rock for an anchor point.  It dragged over the rock a short ways, then stopped as it caught and held.  He stopped with a jerk and dangled over the dizzying drop below him, handle of his hook grasped in one hand.

Before he could even wrap his exhausted mind around the situation, a claw caught him around the waist.

“Gotcha.”  Tamatoa gently plucked Maui off the wall and deposited him on his shell.  “You forget how to shapeshift, man?” he teased.

Maui took a deep, relieved breath, then let it out slowly as he settled onto the crab’s back, careful to keep away from the network of slender cracks spidering across it.  He had stayed nearby, worried Tamatoa might get into trouble on the way up.  He hadn’t anticipated needing help himself.  “Heh.  A little tired, I guess,” he admitted.

Tamatoa chuckled, though rather ruefully.  “You and me both.”  The crab flicked his antennae upward towards the ledge, which was closer now.  “Almost there, though.”  He sounded like he was just as eager to get off this wall as Maui was.

The adrenaline rush of nearly falling had faded now and Maui couldn’t resist teasing the crab back just a little.  “Didn’t you say something about never carrying me like this?” he drawled slyly.  Even as worn out as he was, there was still mischief in his eyes.  “Something about 'not even if I was covered in jewels?'”

One eyestalk turned back to give him a narrow-eyed look, but there was a glint of humor there as well.  “Oho, so I did.  How about I put you back down then, yeah?” he challenged, amused.

“Nah, I’m good,” Maui said, making a small show of getting comfortable in the face of Tamatoa’s empty threat.

The crab’s back shook slightly with a short rumble of laughter, but he said nothing more as he continued to carefully navigate the wall.  Even with a missing leg, the crab was admirably skillful at this.  Then again, he’d always been a natural climber.

The slow sway of movement as the crab climbed was actually rather relaxing and Maui found himself being lulled.  He closed his eyes, resting them for now.  He was going to sleep for a whole week when this was over, he just knew it.

Then the rhythm of their ascent changed.  Maui opened his eyes just in time to see Tamatoa hook one leg onto the final ledge.  The first leg was followed by a claw, then another leg and claw.  Maui gripped tightly to the shell beneath him as Tamatoa hauled the rest of himself up onto the wide, flat stone platform.  Once on level ground, he took several long steps away from the crumbling edges and then let out a gusty sigh.  He looked exhausted and ready to drop.

“Hey, nice work.  Forgot how good you were at that,” Maui encouraged as he climbed back down off the crab’s back.  Maui hadn’t forgotten, of course, but he figured a little flattery might help the crab rally for the rest of the journey back.

As expected, Tamatoa’s antennae perked at the praise.  His expression quirked into a half grin as he turned to look at Maui.  “Was that a compliment?  That sounded like a compliment.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Maui shot back, wearing a grin of his own now.

Tamatoa smirked, but didn’t reply.  Instead his eyes turned up towards the crater overhead.  Sunlight, unfiltered and bright, was spilling in and puffy white clouds gathered lazily against the blue sky.  The crab looked at it for a long time, then swiveled his eyes back to Maui.  When he spoke, there was a faint grudging reluctance in his voice.  “I suppose this is where we part ways.”

Maui blinked.  The thought of returning to the surface right now hadn’t even entered his mind.  He raised an eyebrow to cover his surprise.  “So eager to get rid of me, huh?” he teased, then shook his head.  “Nah, I’m coming with you.  Gotta make sure you get back okay, you know,” he said with a wink, though he wasn’t really joking.  “Besides, I have no idea where that comes out up there and I’m not really up for flying all over the ocean right now,” he added.  If he forced himself, he could probably pull it off, but that seemed like a particularly bad idea given all his injuries.

Tamatoa stared at him skeptically, but Maui could see a relieved light in his huge eyes.  He flicked an antenna in assent, then peered into the dark tunnel at the rear of the ledge.  Stalactites of porous black rock dangled overhead, drips of ancient lava now long cooled and there was a faint purple light twinkling from somewhere at the other end.  He looked back to Maui and quirked an eye.  “Well, what are you waiting for?  Let’s get out of here.”

Maui grinned.  No further encouragement was required.

***

They emerged from the glimmering purple light into the damp air and familiar bright colors of Lalotai.  The underside of the sea danced with the early morning light filtering through from the surface.  Soft shadows passed over them—whales gliding gracefully overhead.  After days in the barren depths, deprived of light and life, Lalotai was a stark contrast and, strangely, a welcome change.  Teeming with activity, the air was filled with a cacophony of distant calls belonging to various creatures.

Maui never would have thought that he’d be relieved to see this realm again, but he found himself oddly glad to be there.  He was even more relieved to see what appeared to be a large lake not far away, its surface shimmering in the morning light.  “Don’t know about you,” he began, glancing up at Tamatoa and pointing his hook towards the lake, “but I’m getting cleaned up.”  Without waiting for an answer, he started marching decisively towards it.

The crab grinned after him.  “About time.  You reek,” he said with an exaggerated look of disgust.  Of course, jokes or not, it didn’t stop Tamatoa from hurrying towards the lake himself, easily beating Maui there on his significantly longer legs.

The salty lake water stung the still raw wounds across his chest as he waded in, but Maui didn’t mind and the saltwater would help the healing along anyway.  The warm water swirled around him, flushing the old blood and grime from his skin.  A little scrubbing got the gunk out of his tangled hair, as well.  It wasn’t up to his usual silky standards, but it was at least clean now.

By the time he looked up, Tamatoa had reasonably cleaned himself up too.  The dried blood was gone from his face and neck anyway.  There was no amount of rinsing that would remove the blackened spots or cracks the crab was now sporting.  Maui felt a twinge of worry again, but kept his mouth shut for now.

Without sparing any more time, they started off again.  Tamatoa lead their way, clearly knowing exactly where he was going.  Their luck was evidently improving, as the lava tube brought them out far closer to Tamatoa’s lair than either had expected.  Tamatoa assured him they’d be there before the end of the afternoon, something which the crab seemed immensely grateful about.

They walked on, both exceedingly tired but driven on by the promise of rest ahead.

They chatted amicably as they went, comparing notes and piecing together the broken bits of story they both had from their own encounters with Kuikaa.  Maui was recounting the details of the legend Pele had told him when Tamatoa drew up short, halting so suddenly that Maui almost ran into him.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he broke in,  “A spider?  Kuikaa could turn into a spider?”

Perplexed at the outburst, Maui nodded.  “Yeah, and the gods cursed him to stay in that form, turned monstrous, before they sent him away,” he paused, still confused.  “Uh, why?”

Tamatoa’s eyes narrowed.  “Just a hunch,” he speculated cryptically.

“About?” Maui prompted, not satisfied with such a vague answer.

“Those two spiders,” Tamatoa said slowly.  “They knew where to find the war club.”

Maui looked thoughtful.  “You think they knew?”

Tamatoa made a noncommittal sound, thinking back across the ages.  How much had they known?  It seemed too uncanny to be mere coincidence.  It didn’t make complete sense, yet but he wasn’t going to let it go until he figured it out.

Figuring it out would have to come later, though.  They were close now and right now, Tamatoa’s only goal was to get some sleep.  Even his hunger, which was quite ravenous by this point, was taking a secondary priority.

There was a familiar ridge ahead though, dotted with outrageously colored tentacle palms.  The carnivorous trees swayed gently and deceptively, as there was no breeze and their motion was entirely under their own power.  Between their colorful fronds and the enticing sway, it was an effective way to lure to hapless creatures into snapping distance.  Tamatoa couldn’t help but smile absently to himself—those trees had style.

He shook those stray thoughts off, though, and willed his weary legs to move.  Just a little ways farther.

With Maui still beside him and the demigod's steps dragging nearly as much as his own, they started up the hillside.  As they crested the ridge, first the tall, spiraling spires of his home peaked into view.  Then the rest of the vast seashell loomed into view, dominating the landscape.  Tamatoa let out a faint sigh.  He had never felt so glad to see that sight before him.  Home.  Home and rest awaited him.

He tore his gaze away from the sight, only to catch Maui giving him a knowing smirk.  Tamatoa flicked his antennae nonchalantly, trying to play it off like it was of no consequence.  Nevertheless, his sluggish steps quickened just a little as he headed up the winding path with Maui alongside.  The newly repaired entry was still tightly shut, unmolested by any potential thieves it would seem.  He shoved it open and triggered the skylight to open, letting the warm glow of watery sunlight pour in.

He trudged in, fatigued but immensely glad to be home.  Maui followed him in and Tamatoa closed the carefully disguised door firmly behind the demigod.

Without hesitation and without an idle word, Tamatoa stepped into the center of the cavern, right below the glimmering skylight, and flopped dramatically down onto the sand with a deep, gusty sigh.  The walls of the lair trembled with the impact as he hit the ground, but he paid it no mind.  Legs splayed in all directions, he dug their pointed tips into the warm sand.  It felt good and he just laid there indulgently, resting his chin on a claw and enjoying the warmth of home.

Maui shambled after him.  Without a word, he stumbled tiredly over to Tamatoa.  He ditched his hook along the way, tossing it haphazardly over into a pile of treasure in a corner.  Then with a heavy sigh of his own, he slumped against Tamatoa’s neck and slid to the ground.

Tamatoa thought the demigod might be about to say something, but it was just a yawn.  He was about to say something himself, but his eyes wouldn’t stay open.  He tried to mumble something anyway, but, warm and comfortable at last, sleep finally caught up with him and carried him away into blissful oblivion.

Chapter Text

Tamatoa awoke, drifting slowly out of sleep’s embrace.  He cracked one eye open, then the other.  The watery light streaming in from above hurt his eyes and intensified his piercing headache, but closing them again was worse—giving life to memories of the nightmarish darkness he had only just barely escaped.

There was a warm weight against his neck, though.  Maui was still there, leaning against him.  It was oddly comforting, reminiscent of days when he was younger.  It steadied him, providing at least a partial bulwark against the rising tide of aches and pains that rose up as sleep fell away.  There was a lot of pain to contend with, too.  Without the blanket of exhaustion numbing him, all those forgotten aches made themselves known and absolutely everything hurt.  He hurt in places he didn’t even know could hurt.  His head ached, his pincers were tender, and there was still a faint buzz of static running through his antennae.  The worst of it, though, was the fiery pain spidering across his shell.  He could feel the network of cracks shifting and widening with every movement.  He knew what that meant.

With a groan, he closed his eyes against the pain and let his head rest heavier on his claw.

“Hey, you okay there?”

Maui’s voice encouraged him to slowly, flinchingly reopen his eyes. “I thought you were still sleeping.”

“Wish I was. I’m just too comfy to move, though.”

“That makes one of us.”

Maui gave him a long look.

“I’ll be fine,” Tamatoa assured, trying to convince himself.  To prove it, he moved to stand.  He needed to get up anyway, he was direly hungry.

Standing turned out to be an ill conceived idea.  It sent waves of pain through his shell, making him somewhat lightheaded.  “Eugh,” he groaned again, wobbling a bit on unsteady legs.

“You’re not okay, are you?”

Tamatoa sank back down.  He’d rest a little while longer, then try again.  “Not really, no.”  He sighed, resigning himself to what he already knew was an inevitable, unavoidable reality.  “I’m going to have to molt,” he mumbled despondently, covering his aching head with his pincers.

“Well,” he heard Maui begin pointedly, “aren’t you—I dunno—a little overdue anyway?”

Tamatoa poked an eyestalk up to give him a narrow, huffy glare.

Maui threw his hands up placatingly.  “I’m just saying!  It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”  More than a thousand years, all in.  But who was counting?  “Why haven’t you done it in so long, anyway?”

He lifted his claws from his head tentatively, peering at Maui.  “Uh—”

How could he explain?  He hadn’t really felt the need to in any serious way in centuries, though he wasn’t sure whether that was just due to his age or some other environmental factor.  Regardless, he’d molted only once since returning to Lalotai and it had been a harrowing experience in a realm full of other dangerous monsters.  His old island had been isolated and safe.  Before that, Maui had always been somewhere nearby.  Allowing himself to be so vulnerable in Lalotai, by contrast, was not an appealing notion.  So when the urge to molt had grown less pressing, he hadn’t seen any reason to invite trouble in.  Even if it did mean he spent the past thousand years on three legs.

It didn’t help that he’d have to completely redecorate his shell, which for the past several centuries had been just the way he wanted it.  Admittedly, that seemed a moot point now, with his treasures damaged and in disarray.  He would have to rearrange them all anyway to get what remained right again.

Then there was the other thing:  the reminder.  As much as he hated it, part of him wanted the endless reminder with every off-balance step of a betrayal so deep—a stark warning against making such mistakes again.  Now, however, that thought was far from his mind.  Maui was here.  Maui had apologized.  Maui had offered his friendship once again.

Maui was looking at him expectantly.

Tamatoa floundered for words, but finally went for a simple explanation.  “—uh, it’s dangerous here in Lalotai, man.  Lots of other monsters around.  Risky, you know?”

“Well, why don’t I stay and keep an eye out?” Maui offered immediately, as if without a second thought.  “Nobody’ll bother you with me here.”  There was a touch of the demigod’s usual boastful pride there, but it was not without basis.

Tamatoa’s antennae swept upward and for a moment he just stared in disbelief.  Finally, he found his voice and managed to sputter, “What, really?”

Maui grinned.  “Sure, it’ll be like the old days.”

Like the old days.

A few short weeks earlier, those words were enough to throw Tamatoa into a massive fit of temper.  Now though, after everything—after thinking Maui was gone forever—there was a certain appeal to them.  “You’d do that, huh?” he asked slowly.

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

Tamatoa flicked an antenna. “Well—”

“Unless,” Maui said accommodatingly, “you don’t want me around.  It’s up to you, of course.  I know these—uh—crab things take some trust.”

Crab things.  Tamatoa managed a lopsided grin.  You’d think after all these centuries, Maui wouldn’t still be so endearingly awkward about it.  Tamatoa elected not to tease him, though.  Not this time.  Instead, he said with a degree of earnestness that surprised even himself, “Maui, after everything we just went through, I trust you on this.”

Maui blinked, then smiled faintly.  “About all that,” he began, “I didn’t really get to say this before, but—well—you did good.  You didn’t have to do all that, but you did.  You saved everyone.”

Tamatoa’s eyes widened slightly, but then he shrugged although the motion sent splintering pain through his shell again.  “I didn’t do it for everyone,” he said, wanting to make sure Maui had no illusions about whatever heroism he was ascribing to Tamatoa’s actions.  “I did it for—”  He broke off, then his eyestalks sagged a bit.  “I really thought you were dead, you know.  Don’t scare me like that again.”

“I’ll try not to,” Maui said with a wry grin.  The he paused, looking a little hesitant.  “There is one thing, though.”

Tamatoa’s antennae twitched curiously at the change in tone.  He looked questioningly at the demigod.

Maui went on.  “I know I said I’d stay and keep watch.”  Oh, here it comes.  “But I have to go back up to the surface to take care of something first.”

Tamatoa’s eyes narrowed very, very slightly.  “The humans?” he said, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice.  Always the humans, even now.

Maui nodded.  “I won’t be long.  I just need to let Moana know everything is okay,” Maui told him.  “She’ll worry otherwise.”

Tamatoa made a disgruntled noise, but said nothing.

“You need time to get ready anyway, don’t you?” Maui pointed out, not unreasonably.  He was right, too—though Tamatoa was loathe to admit it.  Then the demigod’s tone turned reassuring.  “Hey, I’ll be back.  I promise.”

Tamatoa wanted to believe it.  Maui had stuck with him this far, through all the horrors they’d endured in the subterranean realm below.  However, he still couldn’t forget that Maui had broken promises before.

Maui, in a stunning display of perception, seemed to pick up on his thoughts without him saying a word.  “I know what you’re thinking—that I never came back to your island.”  That was exactly what Tamatoa was thinking, yes.  “I won’t make excuses for it, but that was a mistake I won’t make again.”  He met Tamatoa’s eyes steadily.  “I will come back.”

Tamatoa still wasn’t so sure, but he didn’t voice those doubts.  Instead he just dipped an antennae in acknowledgement.  Deeds would prove better than words and he’d just have to wait and see if Maui actually made good on his promise this time.  After what they’d endured together, Tamatoa was willing to give him that chance.

They spent the rest of the morning resting and talking, catching up on centuries of lost time.  Eventually Tamatoa felt steady enough to stand and lure down some much needed breakfast.  It seemed like forever since he had a decent meal and it improved his mood considerably.  He even felt generous enough to share some with Maui.

After a nice afternoon nap that found them both sprawled in the warm sand, Maui took his leave.  The demigod said his goodbyes, reassuring once again that he would return.  Promising that it would only be a few weeks at most.  It was hard not to remember the last time the demigod had made such a promise.

Tamatoa watched him go until he was out of sight and wondered if he’d see him again.

***

Moana’s canoe was right where Maui had left it, tied up securely at the base of the towering spire that lead to Lalotai.  How long had it been since he left it here?  It was hard to gauge how long they had spent in the underground realm, with no daylight to mark the passage of the days.  It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Maui wasted no time now.  He cast off the bowline, prepped the sail, and set a fast, direct course to Motunui.  No distractions this time.  He was going to keep his promise.  He wasn’t going to make the same mistakes again.

It was an easy sail with fair winds, as if the very weather itself was pleased and eager to escort him on his way.  Maui let himself enjoy the feel of the wind and the salt spray on his face.  The air was clean and fresh and sharp with the tang of salt, a welcome relief after the dark, stale world below.  Oh, how he’d missed sailing when he was stuck on that pile of rocks.  A thousand years without the wind filling his sails bred a special kind of longing.

Maui’s thoughts drifted to Tamatoa, staring with that same longing up at the stars in the night sky.  When he had first set out on this journey, Moana had asked him the crab might want besides treasure.  Maui hadn’t had an answer then, having never really thought about it beyond the superficial level.  Now, he felt like he had much better understanding.

He hadn’t thought much about it, even when they were younger.  Maui had always been too wrapped up in himself, really.  He’d always figured the crab was pretty superficial, only really concerned with the next shiny trinket.  And maybe Tamatoa was on some level—he certainly claimed as much if anyone dared ask—but clearly Maui had underestimated what lay beneath that.

Maui looked up at the endless sky above him as the canoe glided away from the stony spire that lead into Lalotai.  Twilight was just settling in, streaking the tropical skies with vivid red and purple hues.  The tapestry of colors woven above him was peppered with the first bright stars of evening.

Then Maui smiled as an idea began to form.

Heart lightened, he sailed on with greater purpose into the night.

***

Tamatoa carefully pried his treasures loose from his shell, meticulously sorting and inventorying them as he stored them safely away.  Many were damaged beyond repair, but those that were in good shape he stowed in various piles and nooks in his home according to an organization system no one but himself could possibly understand.  Even those that were damaged seemingly beyond repair he couldn’t really bear to part with.  After all, they were still shiny even if shattered.  He separated them away in their own piles.  He’d find something to do with them.  Even broken, they were still valuable.  Maybe they could even be salvaged.  Maybe some things weren’t truly beyond repair.

All in all, it was an arduous task, but better to do it now then molt with it all still adhered to his shell.  That would only complicate matters.

As he cleared it away, he was able to see the underlying color of his shell for the first time in centuries.  Yep, still as boring as he remembered.  Of course, he could also see the extent of damage there now too.  He knew it was bad, but now he could see just how bad it really was.  Burn marks covered most of his back, likely made worse by some of the more metallic treasures there, and the cracks were far more extensive than he had thought and some were quite deep.  He shuddered, realizing just how close he’d come to dying on this adventure.

He hadn’t, though.  He’d survived.  He had survived and so had Maui.  They had survived together something that they never could have endured alone.

He hoped Maui came back.

Tamatoa had plenty to distract himself with in the interim.  He turned back to the tasks ahead of him and tried not to fret about things he couldn’t control.  Sometimes he even succeeded.

***

Motunui came into view on the horizon and Maui coaxed a bit more speed from the sail.  The little canoe skimmed fast over the waves towards the island and coasted over the reef with ease.  Skillfully, he piloted it straight towards the main beach where he had last seen the great canoes being prepped again.

The beach was empty.

Sure, there were a handful of fishermen tending nets and repairing sails, but the voyaging canoes were gone.  He swore under his breath as he beached the canoe, frustrated at the setback.

There was no point dwelling on it, though, so he hopped off the deck and hurried straight to the nearest mortal.  He skipped the introductions and got right to the point.  “Hey, which way did they go?”

Startled at the stranger who was suddenly interrogating her, the villager jumped to her feet and dropped the sail she was mending.  “Where did who go?”

“Moana!  And the voyaging fleet!” Maui asked impatiently.

The fisherwoman looked him up and down, taking in all the tattoos and half healed wounds.  Then she glanced at the highly recognizable canoe beached nearby and finally at the very conspicuous hook laying on the deck.  Maui watched realization dawn on the woman’s face.  “You’re Mau—”

“It’s a lot to take in, I know,” he said quickly.  Ordinarily, he would be thrilled to show off for the first mortal besides Moana to recognize him in a thousand years, but right now he was in a bit of a rush.  “But I really need to find them.  Which direction did they sail?”

Still somewhat starstruck, the woman pointed to the east.  “Due east.  They left this morning.”

Oh, thank goodness.  They’d be easy to find then.  Another lucky break!

“Thanks!” he said cheerily, giving her a jaunty wave as he skipped back to the canoe.  He snatched the hook off the deck and, with a flash of blue light, took to the skies in the shape of a hawk.

Behind him, the fisherwoman on the beach just gaped in open mouthed awe.

It didn’t take long to find the fleet and Maui felt a swell of fond joy as he saw the majestic canoes come into view.  Moana had done it.  She was leading her people on their return to voyaging.  She really was an amazing mortal, like none he had ever met before.

He spied the flagship, gliding straight and true across the sea.  It was at full sail, riding the waves swiftly.  Strings of flowers fluttered in the wind from the mast.  As he circled, he could see Moana at the top of the mast—her face glowing with pride and confidence, looking ahead to a future filled with promise.

She caught sight of him as he spiraled down from the clouds and gave him a bright smile.  When he landed on the deck and shifted back to his human skin, she rushed to greet him.  Once again, he found himself enveloped in a jubilant hug.

“You’re back!” she exclaimed, hugging him tighter.  Her voice was filled with relief.

He returned the hug with a smile.  “I’m back.”

It was only when they parted from the hug that Moana noticed the shape he was in.  His wounds were healing fast, but he still looked pretty rough with raw pink streaks across his chest and welts still itchy and inflamed.  “Oh Maui, are you okay?” Moana asked, clearly concerned.  “What happened?  Did—?”

“It’s fine, I’m fine.  We destroyed the war club, it’s all done now,” Maui reassured.

Moana lifted an eyebrow.  “We?”  Then she smiled brightly.  “So you got him to help?”

“Yep!” Maui replied with a grin.  “More than just help, too.”

Moana looked intrigued, her eyes shining with enthusiasm.  “Tell me everything!”

By now the voyagers were crowding around to see the demigod who had aided Moana on her own journey.  Maui looked at the ring of eager faces, pressing close around them, and grinned.  He loved a good audience.

“Well—” he began, adopting a theatrical tone.  “Here’s what happened.”

And he told them everything.  Absolutely everything.

If the villagers were put off by the idea of a giant crab saving the world or alarmed by Maui’s decision to save the Realm of Monsters, they gave no indication of it.  Indeed, they listened with rapt attention and cheered at the end when the war club was destroyed.

When the story was done, Moana gave him another hug.  “You did it,” she said softly, full of pride.

“It wasn’t me,” Maui reminded her.  “Tamatoa destroyed it.”

Moana shook her head.  “That’s not what I meant.”  She stepped back to look at him with a wisdom well beyond her years.  “You made it right.  And regained your friend.”

Maui grinned sheepishly.  “Well, I guess I did.”

Moana’s smile was like sunrise over the sea.

Then a voice from the crowd called out.  “Stay with us, Maui!  Come voyage with us!”  The first voice was joined by others, clamoring with invitations to join them.

Moana looked around at her people, then back to Maui.  “You’re more than welcome to stay,” she told him.  It was an enticing proposition.

They wanted him to be there—to join them.  He let his gaze drift across the faces before him, all filled with warmth.  They wanted him to sail with them off to new lands and new adventures.  There was adoration in their eyes, beckoning him with love and respect.  He was hero to them all and they were welcoming him into their family with open arms.  It was the sort of thing he always craved.

Maui shook his head.  “I appreciate the offer, but I have a promise to keep and a friend waiting.”

Moana smiled warmly and he could see the approval in her eyes.  He’d made the right choice this time.

“Tell him—well—tell him I said hello.  And that we all appreciate what he did.”  Then she stifled a little laugh.  “And—uh—no hard feelings.”

Maui grinned.  “I’ll do that.  Maybe sometime you can meet him on—er—better terms.”

“I’d like that.”  She smiled.  “Safe travels, Maui!”

“And to you, Moana,” he replied smiling broadly.

***

Tamatoa had everything more or less prepared.  He’d stripped his shell of ornaments, had excavated out an adequate, if hasty, burrow under his lair, and taken care of everything else he needed to as well.  Of course, this was not without copious amounts of grumbling to himself in the process.  He hoped it would be at least another millennia before had to go through all this rigamarole again.  Such an inconvenience.

Despite his grumpiness at the whole affair, he was ready to go.  Now he was just waiting for Maui.  It had only been a few weeks, but that unpleasant nagging thought that Maui might not come back was hard to shake.  He hadn’t set a time limit on it yet, but soon enough he would have to decide how long to wait before just going through with it anyway.

Impatient, he had paced the length of the lair until he’d nearly worn grooves in the sand.  He only forced himself to stop his incessant pacing out of concern that he might inadvertantly collapse the burrow he’d made.  Finally, Tamatoa had slumped with a huff into the sand, antennae drooping limply.  He picked idly at things he found in the dirt.  Ooh, was that a stray coin?  He’d have to put it—

“Hey, crab cake!”

Tamatoa’s antennae perked and the coin slipped forgotten from his pincer.  He’d never felt more relieved to hear that annoying nickname.  Maui had come back.  He really had this time.

Still, he tried to play it cool.  No sense in letting Maui know he’d had doubts—that he’d been worried the demigod wouldn’t return.

“Took you long enough, man.  Did the master wayfinder get lost?” he joked, trying for a casual tone as he swiveled his eyes around to find the demigod.

Maui stood just inside the entrance to the cavern, leaning casually on his hook.  He had a stack of baskets beside him and Tamatoa could smell the fruit inside them.  Apparently the demigod didn’t fancy living off only Lalotai’s cuisine for the next few months and had brought his own supplies.

At Tamatoa’s words, Maui raised a knowing eyebrow.  Clearly, he wasn’t buying the act.  Tamatoa’s antennae fidgeted.

“Winds were bad,” he said with a shrug and a half grin, evidently playing along anyway.

The demigod set his hook against the baskets and walked around to where Tamatoa was nestled in the sand.  He climbed up onto one of Tamatoa’s massive claws, putting him closer to eye level.

“I promised I’d be back, didn’t I?” Maui said, looking him in the eye.  “And here I am!”

Tamatoa looked back at Maui.  Once he could fit into the demigod’s hands, now Maui was a small thing sitting on his own claw.  So much had happened—both good and bad—between himself and the demigod over his very long life, but now things seemed to have come full circle.  For the first time in centuries, Tamatoa didn’t feel so lonely anymore.

“And here you are,” Tamatoa echoed.

“So, you ready?”

Tamatoa snorted softly, swiftly brought back to the unpleasant matter at hand.  It killed his mood fairly quickly, not that it was hard to do—he was always moody before a molt.  “As I’ll ever be,” he groused and laid his head on his other pincer.  He made no move to get up.

“Hey, you’ve done this plenty of times.  You’ll be fine.”  Maui gave the claw he was sitting on an encouraging pat.

Tamatoa’s only response was a disgruntled grumble.

Maui was quiet for long, thoughtful moment, then gave him a sideways look.  “You know, I’ve been thinking.”

“That must have hurt,” Tamatoa muttered dryly, still pouting.

Maui smirked at the jab, but let it slide.  “As I was saying, I was thinking about that tunnel we came back through.”

Perplexed, Tamatoa turned his head to peer curiously at Maui.  Where was he going with this?

“There’s nothing sealing it up, you know,” the demigod said slowly, his eyes on Tamatoa’s face as if watching for a reaction.  “You could use it to go see the stars again whenever you want.”

Tamatoa’s eyes went wide.  He hadn’t even considered that.  His heart ached so badly for those stars and the prospect of getting to see them again—whenever he wanted!—was a beautiful lure, but—  “You aren’t going to close it off?”

Maui shook his head.  “Nah, why would I?”

“Uh, to keep monsters from getting to the surface world,” Tamatoa supplied, an answer that seemed fairly obvious to him.

“Pfft.  It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Maui laughed.

Tamatoa stared at him, dumbstruck and hardly daring to hope.

“I know you miss them,” Maui pointed out.  “I thought this might help—you know—make up for things.”

Tamatoa couldn’t help the wide smile that spread on his face.  He opened his mouth to say something, but Maui got there first.

“Just promise me one thing.”

He quirked an eye at the demigod, wondering what the catch was.

Maui looked at him steadily. “Leave the humans up there alone.  Please.”

Ah.  Apparently that hadn’t gone forgotten.

Tamatoa flicked his antennae, taking a beat to gauge the intent behind Maui’s words.  It wasn’t a warning or a threat—it was a request.  Perhaps not an unreasonable one at that.  After all, there were plenty of things to snack on down here.  It was a fair trade off, really.  Maui’s friendship and the stars in exchange for leaving a few squishy humans alone?  Done.

He shot Maui a grin.  “I can do that.”

Maui let out a very quiet breath, barely audible but Tamatoa noticed it anyway.  For a moment he wondered what would have happened had he answered differently, but it was best not to dwell on such thoughts.  Not when things were on the mend.

“Maui,” he said, getting the demigod’s attention.  “Thank you.”

Maui smiled.  “You’re welcome.”  He didn’t even sing it this time.

His mood greatly improved, Tamatoa finally moved to get up.  Maui hopped nimbly off his claw as Tamatoa stood and shook the sand off himself.  “Well, time to get this over with.”

Maui looked up at him.  “I’ll be up here waiting,” he assured.

“Could be a while,” Tamatoa said as he uncovered the entrance to the burrow he’d constructed.

Maui shrugged.  “I’m a demigod, it’s not like I’m gonna gonna die of old age up here.”

Tamatoa smirked, then turned to look into the dark burrow apprehensively, but with whatever resolve he could muster.

Maui’s voice cut into his thoughts.  “One last thing…”

Just about to descend into the tunnel, Tamatoa paused and gave him a questioning look.

“What did you say to Kuikaa to convince him to let you destroy the war club?  You never told me.”

Tamatoa gave him a long look.  “He tried to tell me you weren’t my friend.  I told him you weren’t just a friend, you were family.”

Maui blinked, clearly taken aback and caught off guard.  Then he smiled warmly.

“See you soon, Tamatoa.”

Tamatoa flashed him a smile, then dropped into the enormous burrow and sealed it off behind him.

***

Maui relaxed under the watery light of the skylight.  Arms tucked behind his head, he lay on his back and watched the fish circle overhead.  Every so often, a whale would trace a graceful path overhead, singing its eerie, resonating songs.  Other times, a shark would cut through the water and send the schools of fish scrambling away until it had passed.  Once or twice, he had even seen what looked like the outline of a canoe far above on the other side of the water.

Maui had to admit, it was a pleasant view.  He could get used to it.  Over the past many months, he’d spent countless hours watching the underside of the water to pass the time.  It never really got old.  There was always something interesting going on up there.

He’d been a little worried that the months of isolation while Tamatoa was molting would leave him feeling as trapped as he had on that dismal pile of rocks.  As it turned out, it wasn’t as bad as he feared.  He often went out exploring, never straying too far from Tamatoa’s lair.  There was never any lack of new things to see, though.  His exposure to Lalotai had been rather limited, but he was coming to find it fascinating.  When Tamatoa was back, he’d have to see if maybe he could convince him to show him more of the place.

Maui was just beginning to drift into a nap, when he was roused back by a scuffling sound.  Instantly alert, he jumped to his feet and grabbed his hook.  He hadn’t had to fight off many intruders, but there had been at least a few who had come poking around.  He’d sent them off in various states of ignoble defeat.  Not one ever came back.

He held his hook ready, waiting to face whatever showed up this time.  Then he lowered it slowly as he heard the sound again.  It was coming from inside the lair, under the sand.  He laid hook aside with a smile and backed up, making space.

The sand started to cave in a little, shifting with a hiss of fine grains.  Then the sand heaved up and a claw emerged, followed by another, and then the rest of the massive crab followed shortly behind.

Whoa.

Maui gaped in utter, blindsided surprise as Tamatoa shook the sand off himself.  The crab had gained a little more height and his colors were brighter and more vivid than Maui had seen in many, many centuries, but that wasn’t what caught Maui’s attention.

Tamatoa was back on four legs again.

Maui stared, mouth still hanging open.  He was at a total loss for words, unable to really process what he was seeing.

Tamatoa blinked the sand out of his eyes and turned them to look at Maui.  He caught Maui’s expression and a sly, toothy grin crept onto his face.  “Something the matter, Maui?”

Maui closed his mouth, then opened it again like a landed fish.  Words still wouldn’t come.

Tamatoa grinned wider.  “A bird is going to fly in there and make a nest if you don’t close your mouth.”

“T-Tama, your—your leg!” he managed to sputter at last.

The smug crab flexed his formerly missing leg, tapping the point of it in the sand for emphasis.  “This leg?” he crooned, a mischievous spark in his eyes.

“But—but, how?!”

“Crabs can regrow lost limbs,” Tamatoa told him, matter-of-factly but with that gleam still in his eye.  “Everybody knows that, Maui.”

“Every—but—”

Tamatoa was clearly enjoying his discomfiture, if the amused look on his face was anything to go by.  The crab went to take a swaggering step forward, but stumbled.  Tripping over his own new leg, he went down and landed with a heavy crash and a blistering curse in the sand.

Maui came out of his shock and hurried over with sudden concern.  “Tamatoa!  You okay?”

When he got to Tamatoa’s side, the crab was laughing.  It was a full, real laugh too, not the nasty, unpleasant one that had haunted him most of their journey months earlier.  Maui found himself staring again.

“Guess I’ll have to get used to this again,” Tamatoa was saying between guffaws, then his antennae perked.  “Ooh, I can choreograph all new dance routines!”  He looked back to Maui, who was standing near where his face was resting on the sand.  “You really didn’t know, did you?”  The crab grinned again.

Maui shook his head, suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed.  His friend was whole again.  He looked down at his own hands, then back at Tamatoa.  He’d carried this guilt for a thousand years, knowing he’d maimed his best friend in a fit of temper.  And now Tamatoa was whole again.

“Oh, ick!”  Tamatoa suddenly exclaimed, cutting into his thoughts.  “Your eyes are oozing, Maui.  Are you crying?  Mammals are so gross sometimes.  What are you—hey!”

Maui had jumped forward to hug Tamatoa’s huge face, what he could reach anyway.  The crab looked flabbergasted, but settled down anyway after a moment and curled a claw gently around Maui.

“Hey, what’s that?” Tamatoa asked suddenly, breaking the tender moment as usual.

Maui looked up.  “Huh?”  The crab had an eyestalk curled over him, looking at his back.  He turned to look over his shoulder.

The tattoo on his left shoulder had shifted.  Where once, long ago, it had showed himself and Tamatoa pulling up an island together and later had depicted their awful fight or pulling up an island sans the crab’s effigy, now it showed something new.

Now they stood side by side as friends—Tamatoa’s image with a full set of legs and a claw around Maui’s shoulder and Maui’s with an arm likewise.  He could have sworn that the crab’s tattoo image was winking.

“Well, how about that.”  Maui couldn’t help but smile.

Tamatoa closely scrutinized the tattoo, admiring his own image there.  “Pretty good likeness, don’t you think?  I like it.”  He grinned.

It was pretty good, Maui had to admit.  A definite improvement.

“So,” Tamatoa said cheerfully, an echo from across the centuries.  “I’m starving.  You save me anything to eat?”

Maui laughed.  “C’mon, we’ll find you something.”

***

“Pele, I know what you did.”

“Oh, do you now, Kū?”

“You didn’t think it would go unnoticed, did you?”

“It’s none of your concern.”

“But Pele, a crab—?”

“He earned it.”

“But—”

“Is your power whole again now with Kuikaa’s mess cleaned up?  Quit complaining.”

“Aren’t you worried about consequences?”

“Think about the consequences if I didn’t.  Besides, what could possibly go wrong?”