by Cathryn Cade
“We’re not going in very far,” Zane said. “This cave is pretty open because the unstable parts have already fallen. The others are deeper, but they’re not safe, especially for a novice.”
Zane switched on his dive light as they swam into the cave. Claire was relieved to see that only small fish lurked in the shadows. They swam slowly around the big space and then back out again, continuing along the reef.
Claire was glad to be back out in the bright-blue water. She was content to linger on the reef, watching the fish and following an eel through a channel in the rocks. Zane swam slowly at her side, answering her exclamations and pointing out unusual fish to her.
But after what seemed a short time, he pointed south again. “Come on. I want to have a look at the big cave before we head back. Daniel said a fall blocked the entrance.”
“Do we have enough air?”
“These are high-capacity tanks,” he answered. “And we’re staying pretty shallow, so we’re not using as much air. We’ve got another forty minutes left. Plenty of time to have a look.”
She nodded and followed him back toward the caves. She was shocked when Zane suddenly grabbed her arm and kicked powerfully, pulling her into the shadows.
“What?” Her heart missed a beat. “Is it the shark’s mama?”
“Hush.” His grip tightened. Her heart was thumping double-time, her breathing harsh and loud in her ears.
“Okay,” she hissed back. “But ease up on my arm. You’re hurting me.” She concentrated on slowing down her breathing, in…and out…in…and out.
Zane let go, but he did not apologize. Instead, he hung motionless in the shadows, his back to her.
Claire peered cautiously over his shoulder, expecting to see a huge shark patrolling the mouth of the cave. Instead, she saw a light glimmering through a fracture in the cave wall. It brightened, and she could see shapes moving—other divers. A harsh grating sound reverberated through the water. “Who’s that?” she whispered. “What are they doing?”
“I don’t know. But I gotta find out. You stay here.”
“Huh?” She peered at him. “Zane, what’s going on? So there are divers in the next cave. So what?”
“Because if those mokes are who I think they are, they’re not tourists, and they’re not nice people. Daniel and I have been looking for them.”
“Well, let’s go back and tell someone.”
“We will,” he hissed. “But first I wanna get a look at what they’re doing. We have to stop them.”
“You have to stop them?” she echoed, stunned. “What about the police? Or the Coast Guard?”
“You see any cops or Coast Guard around here?” he demanded in a low voice. “Listen, just stay here a minute, and I’ll be right back.”
“Zane! Come back here.” He ignored her. She growled to herself, her fists clenching in her gloves as she treaded water, maintaining her position. She was so going to give him what-for when they were back at Nawea.
But as the mysterious lights glimmered, she couldn’t contain her own curiosity. Swimming closer yet, she peeped through the crack. She gasped, nearly choking on her mouthpiece.
The interior of the big cave was full of reflected lights, bobbing and weaving. She ducked back and then peered around the rocks again. It was a group of divers, at least four of them. They apparently had headlamps on, because they were working around a large, bulky shape in the middle of the cave. It was bigger than an SUV, and as the lights flickered off the sides, she saw that it was some kind of tank or container.
As one diver handed something to another, realization jolted her like a charge from an electric eel. Only one thing would warrant moving material clandestinely like this instead of on a public cargo dock—their cargo was illegal. And Zane had gone to spy on them.
There was a muffled concussion, followed by the grating rumble of rock. The lights in the other cave bounced erratically. Claire kicked backward as the rumble deepened. Dust and fragments of rock belched through the crack. She hung in the center of the small cave, her heart in her throat. Zane!
She swam back to the crack and peered through. Her heart sank—the other cave was now filled with turquoise light, streaming in through a large hole in the roof. And that meant Zane could be seen, if any of the other divers had survived that rock fall.
A shadow passed over the murky waters of the other cave. Claire stuck her head farther into the crack and looked upward. She blinked. A large, human silhouette floated in the sunlit water over the cave, looking down. A silhouette that almost looked like Daniel Ho’omalu. But of course it couldn’t be, because…because he had no dive gear on, and anyway, what would he be doing here? And beyond him—were those dolphins? As she watched, scarcely comprehending what she was seeing, the figure jackknifed and dove down into the other cave, right onto another diver, who was struggling up out of the debris covering the mysterious container.
The diver slashed with something that flashed in the light—a knife! But the bigger man struck it out of his hands, then grabbed his opponent and yanked his dive mask off, tearing it off with the air hose and casting it behind him. The diver bucked frantically, and Claire nearly strangled on her mouthpiece as his attacker grabbed him by the throat and kicked up powerfully, dragging the diver with him. The graceful dolphins followed, curveting around the humans like silvery dancers.
“D-Daniel?” Claire mumbled. It had been Daniel—it had.
“Claire! Claire!” She jerked around as Zane barreled back into the cave, kicking furiously. “Come on,” he beckoned. “We gotta get out of here.”
“Zane? But…what—”
“No time for questions,” Zane hissed with a fierceness that shocked her. “Just follow me, and swim for your life, got it?”
She nodded, unable to form words. Her heart pounding wildly, she kicked after him, stroking with her arms as she followed him out.
But it was already too late. Two other divers hung in the water just outside the cave. Dressed in full dive gear and strapped with belts full of ominous-looking tools, they held spearguns in their hands, the sharp points aimed straight at Zane and Claire.
Daniel let go of the diver he’d yanked from the sub and watched as the man struggled feebly for the surface of the sea, a few yards overhead. Then he kicked upward, breaking the surface at the same time as the diver. Kimo lay on the surface, choking and gasping for air, his face pale under his native tan.
Daniel swam close to him and lifted the man’s head in one hand, forcing Kimo to look Daniel in the eye. “Guess you won’t be running any more drugs on my island, will you?”
Kimo shook his head, coughing as a wave caught him in the face. “No—no more, I swear.”
Daniel let him go. The shore wasn’t far away, the yacht riding the sea in the other direction. As far as he was concerned, the fool could live or drown. Any crew left on the yacht probably wouldn’t see him in the choppy waves kicked up by the afternoon wind.
Daniel had business to finish. He took a few long, deep breaths, filling his body with oxygen, and then dove again, followed by the three nai’a that had come in answer to his summons.
He’d begun his work by swimming along close to shore and gliding silently across the roof of the lava tube, observing the divers working at the cave entrance. The subterranean activity deep under the volcano the day before had filled the cave entrance with rubble.
Helman’s men had picked a poor place to hide their sub before piloting it on to whatever rendezvous they’d planned, probably Honolulu. Over seventy percent of the island population lived there, which made it the drug distribution center of Hawaii.
But the fallen rubble in the cave was loose, and Helman’s men had removed enough to work. A pile of neoprene packages already sat by the cave entrance.
Kimo had spotted him through a crack in the roof. Daniel heard a muffled exclamation and realized Helman had set his men up with walkie-talkies. With Daniel’s ho’omalu powers, he could hear their voices just as he coul
d hear the nai’a and the whales. Their voices were garbled, yeah, but he knew which direction and how far away.
“What was dat?” Kimo had asked nervously.
“Some nai’a, fool,” Tommy had retorted hoarsely. “Get to work—I wanna get outta here.”
“Nai’a, yeah, but I saw some kine big kanaka.”
“Yeah, Ukanipo here to getchu,” Tommy had jeered.
“Not far off, moke.” Daniel smiled fiercely to himself. Using part of the contents of the dive pack he’d brought with him, he’d set a small charge on the roof of the cave, behind a spire of lava that shielded him from the divers. He and the nai’a had swum up to breathe while the charge had detonated. They dove again to find that it had imploded most of the roof, onto the sub and the divers in the cave.
Tommy was buried in the rubble. Daniel heard his hoarse calls for help and rock grating as he fought to dig his way out. Ignoring him, Daniel grabbed Kimo. He was here to get Helman and the kula. He’d already given the two Hawaiians a chance to walk away, but they’d chosen to stay with Helman. Tommy had a fair chance of making it to the surface, but he’d have to do it on his own.
Two divers taken out and three more to go, if his count was right. There’d been five dive tanks missing when he swam by the boat earlier.
But as he dove again, he could see the mouth of the cave. A diver waited there, his pale hair visible under his dive mask. He wore a black wet suit and carried a speargun in his hand. Helman, looking not toward this cave with his kula but toward the next one. Two other divers waited there, both in black wet suits, one with flashy yellow stripes down his sides, the other red stripes. Both held spearguns at the ready. One of them beckoned.
Daniel froze as two more divers emerged from the next cave, one brunette, one blonde. His heart gave a great thump, his pulse thundering as he recognized them. Zane and Claire! What in the name of Kanaloa were they doing here?
“Ohana ancestors, chant for us now,” he prayed silently. “Save your children, o Pele, protect them, o Kanaloa.”
His jaw set like iron, Daniel forced himself to settle on the back of the cave roof. He ripped open the dive pack and pulled out two more charges, big ones. He’d planned to set these himself, but now he had to save his two hūpō ones.
Calling one of the nai’a to him with a sharp click, Daniel held up the prepared charge of underwater explosive.
The dolphin hung in the water before him, bright eyes on Daniel.
“Take this, little brother. Carry it down through the hole in the roof, and into the black tube leading back into the mountain. Swim back as far as you can. Leave it there, and return to me.”
The dolphin nodded, giving a confident whistle, then grabbed the package in his teeth and swam off.
Daniel watched him go, hoping he hadn’t sent the young nai’a to his death. If the dolphin dropped the charge too soon or if the lava tube into which he swam fell in, he would die or be badly injured.
“Kanaloa, listen to your ho’omalu,” he demanded fiercely. “Call your sister, Pele. Let her wake and walk again. Let her river of fire flow again to Na’alele.”
As the dolphin disappeared into the end of the tube, Daniel turned back into the light of the sea, and to his new problem. Hidden from the divers at the cave mouth, he tipped back his head, pushing a long, low sound from his throat. His call rose in an eerie, fierce ululation that reverberated through the sea, singing through the blue depths, calling Kanaloa’s creatures to Na’alele. The two remaining nai’a joined him, calling their own kind.
Then Daniel swam toward the cave mouth and looked over the edge at the divers below. One of Helman’s goons was looking the other way, at the open sea. “What the hell was that?”
“How the hell do I know? Whales, dolphins or something,” Helman snapped. “Get your head back in the game. We’ve got to get this stuff on the yacht.”
Daniel heard Zane translating quickly to Claire. “He said, ‘Come to me, my brothers and sisters. Come to me, nai’a ohana. Rise, Ukanipo, and hunt.’” His young cousin sounded excited.
Young fool would need every bit of youthful strength to get through the next few moments. Zane would be a full ho’omalu in his own right one day, but he’d only begun to come into his powers. He needed time…and Daniel must give it to him.
Claire looked around, her movements jerky. “H-how do you know? Wh-who was it?”
“Shh-shh,” Zane said. “Just wait. It’s Daniel.”
“Daniel?” she whispered like a prayer. Ah, his wahine—he was gonna spank her ass ’til she couldn’t sit, if—no, when he got her out of here. How had two of the people he cared most about in the world blundered into this?
Realization socked him like a mighty fist in his gut. This was his fault. He hadn’t told Zane about his mission today. He’d kept the boy on the periphery where he was safe, letting him spy on Helman’s yacht. If he’d told Zane he was coming here today, Zane would have insisted on accompanying him. So instead, Daniel had let his cousin and his tita blunder straight into the middle.
Daniel swallowed the guilt that rose sickly in his gorge. Time to castigate himself later. If he could get Zane’s attention, he could distract the divers with spearguns trained on them, long enough for the two to get away. He motioned to one of the nai’a to swim down to Zane and Claire. The female slipped down through the spires of lava on the cave roof, ready for his call.
But then Helman took the choice from him.
“What you want us to do with these two?” Yellow Stripes asked, waving his speargun at the two.
“Get rid of them,” Helman ordered. “You can leave the bodies in the sub. No one will find them for years.”
Rage burning so hot in his veins he was surprised the water didn’t boil around him, Daniel surged up over the rim of lava at the cave mouth and rested his feet on the lip of the cave, looking down at Helman and his men. He sent his thoughts into their minds. “They’re not the ones you need to worry about, po’ino.”
As one, the divers jerked around to look at him. Daniel smiled, showing his teeth, and poised himself to dive. The third nai’a, an older female, hovered at his side, while the other swam out of the cave behind Zane. Zane motioned the dolphin forward, in front of Claire. She jerked as the dolphin brushed past her, but then her gaze, wide and frightened behind her mask, fastened on Daniel once again.
“What the hell…?” Helman’s eyes bugged behind his mask. “A skin diver, down here? With a fucking dolphin?”
“It’s the guy from the pier in Kailua,” one of his men said.
“Yes, it is,” Helman murmured, his gaze narrowing on Daniel. “The question is, what the fuck is he doing here, and how is he speaking to us? I don’t see any kind of communication device.”
“Ukanipo,” muttered Red Stripes. “Hawaiians say he can take human form and that he can call the dolphins—and sharks.”
“Not Ukanipo,” Daniel replied. “Worse. I am ho’omalu.”
“What the fuck is a ho’omalu?” Helman sneered.
Daniel smiled again. “Your worst nightmare, Helman. Guardian of these seas and of this island.”
“Oh, really?” Helman’s stance tightened, his lean body rigid. “You—you were involved in my brother’s death, weren’t you?”
Daniel shook his head. “Not me. I’m here to destroy your drugs and send you to prison, or to hell.”
“I don’t think so, fool. Get him,” Helman ordered, his own speargun already coming up.
“No!” Claire screamed, kicking forward. The nai’a blocked her, holding her back.
“Claire, no! Stay back,” Zane yelped, kicking toward her.
“Zane—take her! Get going,” Daniel commanded, as he dove off the cave. He hit Helman with a thump and sent him reeling backward through the water. But something hit him in the chest with a solid thud that seared into ice. He looked down at himself and saw a spear imbedded in his right pectoral. Helman’s spear had hit him, inches from his heart.
The na
i’a whistled, a shrill sound that echoed in Daniel’s ears. “Yes, little sister—should’ve let you distract him,” he managed as his system registered the pain. He wanted to fold over himself, curl up in agony. “Better me than—these two.”
Helman’s eyes widened in triumph, and he kicked backward, away from Daniel. “Got you, you bastard. Kill the other two, and let’s get the stuff.”
But Zane, Claire and her guardian nai’a all moved at the same time, Zane straight for the two divers guarding them, Claire and the nai’a headed for Daniel.
Zane hit Yellow Stripes, knocking his speargun up. Then he was thrown sideways, letting out a muffled cry of pain as Red Stripes shot him, a spear slicing through his shoulder and protruding from his back.
He fell back in the water, kicking as he grabbed at the spear, struggling to pull it out. Daniel could hear his gasping breaths as clearly as his own heart beating. But he couldn’t save his cousin yet.
“Tita—get behind me,” Daniel ordered Claire, reaching into her mind. He grabbed her arm, hauling her behind him, ignoring the pain that seared through him as the spear moved. The nai’a hovered before him, shielding him with her body from the armed divers.
“You’re hit,” Claire cried, grasping at his sides. “Let me help you—take you up. Daniel, you’ll drown!”
“No.” He held her behind him. “I am ho’omalu. Tita, trust me.”
Helman reloaded his speargun as the other divers swam to assist him. The nai’a female surged forward, this time knocking Helman’s gun from his hands and flipping around to grasp it in her sharp teeth. The spear fell from the barrel. She carried the gun toward Daniel.
“Get him,” Helman screamed. “And get that damned dolphin.”
The nai’a female nudged the speargun toward Daniel. It dropped slowly to the sandy bottom, sending up a plume of sand.
Gritting his teeth, Daniel grasped the spear in his shoulder and pulled. He grunted in pain as it jerked suddenly from his flesh, then let it go, reeling back. Blood spurted, a murky plume in the water.