Statue of Ku (Moa Book Series, #2) - Excerpt

Chapter 1 - Blank Slate

“Really? I thought there’d be at least one other.” She grins at Hillary.

Her seven-year-old body probably would throw the average human off. To look at Moa, you’d never know that she carries with her an ancient wisdom. One that, despite her transition to the human form, remains intact. Her smooth, straight, dark-brown hair hits the middle of her back and she wears a tan, kapa cloth dress, handwoven by her mother during her first time on Earth. She has no shoes. So far, she hasn’t needed them. She digs her toes into the soft, deep-pile, wool rug under her seat, pretending she is a Manx cat pawing at her pad. Mmmm. Comfy.

During her previous human state, Moa lived on the island of Honolulu, Hawaii with her mother, Lele—or as she called her, Maha — her father, Kapo, and two sisters, Amo and Re. A ship carrying strange men with long, dark beards and brown faces stormed the shores of their beautiful, peaceful village, first demanding food and drink, then grabbing anything of value from the family’s dwelling. Kapo stubbornly refused and was killed along with Lele, Amo, and Re. It happened so quickly, there was no time to cry. The marauders ransacked their house and stole a beautiful black coral carving of Ku, the god of prosperity and production. Lele had been given the carving as payment for her diligent work on a kapa for a wealthy chief. She was widely revered as an expert weaver for her creations of elaborate ceremonial, gorgeous, uniquely printed kapa bark cloths from the wauke bush.

Each morning the family had said a prayer to Ku, a delicate six-inch-tall statue inlaid with precious pink coral. Moa’s blood boiled, imagining her treasure in the filthy hands of such brutish men.

She had fled for her life into the brush and hid among the thorny gorse bush spines. Crying and weakened from grief and terror, she prayed the Huna prayer, asking for protection and salvation from her terrifying predicament. She began to breathe and to gather Mana—vital life energy—and send it to her highest self as she’d been taught to do by her Popo—grandmother—years before. The practice created a powerful bond with Popo, and when she passed—a mere month before the terrible invasion by the bearded men —Moa would feel Popo’s spirit around her during her daily practice. Oh, how she missed her! As she sat amidst thorns and breathed the Mana, something extraordinary occurred—Grandmother’s spirit came to her and lit up a small glowing hole in the earth, just large enough for Moa to enter. She did so in great haste and was enveloped in a

protective, warming white light.

Popo said that Moa had entered the world of the Ancients and was safe. However, to

continue to remain protected by the universal force, she had to agree to guide pre-selected humans through the portal to the Ancient world. Their own guides would meet them and take them to their destination of truth. Thus, she began her work as Gatekeeper for the Ancient Portal.

During her tenure as an Ancient Portal Gatekeeper, Moa had transitioned many souls from their bodies through the portal—generations, in fact. Her gift was to live between the worlds. And since her body did not die, but merely “transformed,” she had existed in a vibration accessible only to those humans who chose to believe in and acknowledge her presence.

Moa’s true home was in the Ancient world. She loved performing the essential duty of escorting souls from bodies to ensure their safe return to their destined spiritual repository. And her task was essential to the survival of the Hawaiian Islands because, although humans die, their souls must be transferred to the appropriate location. If not, and too many souls remain within the islands’ energetic constructs, the Earth’s energy will become unbalanced, causing natural disasters like volcanic eruptions and earthquakes. It is the human soul, which, upon transitioning to another state, balances and stabilizes the island energy.