An Excerpt from "The Wayfinder" by Adam Johnson

Adam Johnson, celebrated for his Pulitzer-winning novel "The Orphan Master's Son" and his National Book Award-recognized short stories collection "Fortune Smiles," brings forth a grand narrative set a millennium ago in the Polynesian realm.

In this work, presented by MCD, a courageous young woman and two royal offspring embark on a journey through tempestuous seas, ancient legends, and an empire on the edge of upheaval. Below is a segment from this epic story.

Having explored numerous tombs for treasures, I finally uncovered a valuable gem: a pendant crafted to resemble a fishhook, made of greenstone, a material sourced exclusively from Aotearoa, our ancestral homeland, long before we settled on this isle. The pendant held a luminous, verdant hue when exposed to sunlight, reminiscent of the morning glow filtering through miro forests.

Although grave-robbing was distasteful and disrespectful to our ancestors, necessity pushed me to continue.

However, my responsibilities extended beyond this task. Daily, before the break of dawn, I would venture out to hunt birds — pigeons during planting times, tui with the blooming of flax, and presently, parrots. These birds arrive in tight-knit groups, and we would exploit these bonds to trap them. This island, originally named Manumotu or Bird Island by our forebears, was far richer in avian life then than now.

My companion Hine also had arduous tasks. Yet, unlike mine, hers seemed never-ending. Since losing her mother in childhood, she was raised by Tiri, a woman without offspring, who now blind, depended entirely on Hine's care.

Following a morning of bird hunting, I would proceed to dig near the island’s cove. Many were interred along the coast, chosen for its view, steady breeze, and the landings of birds from their voyages. Our catch, one parrot named Aroha, played a crucial role in luring others to our traps.

Using a simple digging tool and a basket, I selected a place to begin excavating. With mangrove roots frequently blocking my path, I employed a mussel shell’s jagged edge to clear them. By the time Hine and Tiri joined me, I was drenched in sweat.

Our venture into the past frequently offered unusual finds — today was no different. Tiri shared ancient tales as she wove, while Hine and I unearthed relics, including remnants attributed to dogs, creatures foreign to our current island life.

Suddenly, Tiri’s narrative paused as my stick struck something hard. Beneath the sands lay a new discovery. Hine preferred not touching bones, especially for fear they might belong to her late mother. However, our ancestor’s possessions might yield valuable artifacts someday.

The scene took an unexpected turn when, amidst our digging, the distant arrival of a massive double-hulled canoe loomed — its majestic presence altered the island's long-standing solitude. This unexpected visit heralded a shift in our known world.