by Matt Larkin
Whispers had begun to echo through the tunnel, somewhere far off. Far ahead, perhaps. As she continued on, the floor grew unusually slick and warm. Namaka pulled Kana to a stop and knelt to examine it. As the man knelt beside her, his torchlight gleamed off the ground. It was black—blacker than a moonless night—and polished to a reflective shine. Obsidian.
Their gazes met, though neither spoke.
Kana rose slowly, then pressed on down the tunnel. Damn it. Obsidian came from volcanoes, didn’t it? Was the whole cave growing hot? It was. Despite Kana by her side, Namaka felt alone, small. If only Mo-O were still alive, were here with her now.
The tunnel abruptly turned upward in an almost sheer slope, although the obsidian facets made a series of shelves in the wall. Kana held the torch high overhead, staring into the darkness. Namaka couldn’t see anything up there and her eyes were better than any human’s. It appeared up was the only way to go from here.
Sweat slicked her back and made her palms clammy. Not ideal for climbing. “You’d better let me go first. Keep the torch high, so I can see.”
He nodded.
She grabbed the lowest ledge and immediately jerked her hand away as the obsidian sliced her palm. The gash wasn’t deep, but it hurt like a jellyfish’s sting. Namaka stared at the line of blood dripping from her hand. This would be beyond unpleasant. And it was definitely hotter above them.
“Be very careful where you step,” she said. Instead of grabbing the lip of the ledge, she pushed her palms against the farthest part she could reach and used it to heft herself onto the shelf. The next ledge stood roughly at her eye level. A gentle prod confirmed it too was sharp enough to cut through her flesh like a knife. Gingerly she ran her fingers along the edge until she found a section where the it jutted forward in a wedge rather than a blade. That edge stuck out over the tunnel, away from her current ledge enough she’d have to hang over open air to climb it. Seeing no other way, she jumped off her platform and pulled herself onto the wedge. It gave no indication of faltering under her weight, thank the aumakuas.
“You’re stronger than you look,” Kana mumbled from beneath her.
“Mermaid.” A mermaid had to be strong enough to swim swiftly, to manage the pressures of the deep sea.
Now she stood maybe seven paces above him, leaving her only deep shadows with which to find her next climbing point.
While she debated, Kana climbed onto the first ledge, then passed the torch up to her. Namaka moved away from the wedge, giving him a place to climb, and used the light to inspect her new perch. From the look of it, this shaft opened up into a larger chamber, maybe another ten paces above her.
Unfortunately, the lowest ledge she could spot was maybe five paces across the shaft and she had no way to tell if the lip was sharp. She shook her head. Well, a fall from this height wouldn’t kill her. It would just hurt. A lot. Fine. Pain was only pain. She flung the torch across the gap. It landed on the shelf, sputtering and skidding briefly.
“Wait, you’re not going—” Kana began.
Namaka backed against the nearest wall, then shoved off it. She had only the barest space to get a running start, then she flew through the air. She caught the shelf under her arms. A scream broke from her throat as the obsidian dug into her arms and chest, and she slipped. The slide only deepened the gash until all she could do was whimper.
“Namaka!”
“Stay there.” She had to push away from the shelf just a little, and doing so sent fresh agonies running through her trembling arms. She pushed her torso straight up, then fell forward, earning herself cuts on her legs in the process. At least she was on the damn shelf. She lay on her back, panting. A gash over her breastbone trailed hot liquid into her armpits. This was too much, too hard. She prodded the cut on her chest. It stung, but it wasn’t deep. She let her arm drop and shut her eyes a moment.
“Are you all right?” Kana called.
“I’m fantastic.” Leagues away from the ocean, exhausted, traveling with a man who’d sold his soul to a Earth spirit. Oh, and she’d almost sliced her own breasts off. “Best day I’ve had all day.”
And what right did she have to complain to Kana? Not only did she have more strength and stamina than he did, he knew if he succeeded he was damned to spend the rest of his life a slave to that menehune. And if he failed, then his brother would die along with him. However hard she had it, he had it worse. Which meant she really couldn’t lie here wallowing in pain.
Namaka rolled over and climbed to her feet once again, grabbing the torch in the process. There was another shelf here, and more handholds, beyond which she could see the upper lip of this shaft.
“We’re almost there,” she called back to Kana. “Do you think you can make the jump, or should I—”
A shadow swooped down on her from above, cutting off her words. Before she could even turn and see it, the thing landed atop her, digging knives into her shoulders. The torch fell from her hand and she screamed in agony, her vision fading in a haze of red. A sudden rush of wind hit her face and her stomach lurched as it hefted her airborne by whatever had pierced her shoulders. For a few heartbeats it carried her upward in total darkness.
Then her attacker released her and she plummeted. Heart in her throat. Couldn’t see to even brace for—
She landed on a hard, hot rock, the impact knocking all breath from her lungs.
Dimly, perhaps a few heartbeats later, perhaps longer, she realized she wasn’t in total darkness. Incandescent light radiated off a waterfall of lava deep in the cavern, becoming a river complete with splashing rapids.
The moment she managed to get a breath, the first sound she uttered was a moan. Everything hurt. Her crash into the rocks had dulled even the agony in her shoulders. She turned, trying to sit up, but only managed to roll onto her side.
As she did so, a fire sprung up in a line before her, turning in complex, unnatural spirals that must have formed a spirit circle. The fires granted her a bare view of the cavern. The ceiling remained out of sight, but rocky cliffs ringed her on all sides. From high above something screeched like a bird. A very large bird.
She groaned, finally able to roll onto her stomach and push herself up. She immediately slipped back down. She’d been wrong before. The pain in her shoulders was definitely still there. Again she lifted her head only to spot a shadowy figure moving between the lines of fire. She could make out nothing of his face as he drew ever nearer.
“You are in my place.” His voice hissed like steam, barely audible over the ringing in her ears.
The bird screeched again and this time swooped down to land beside the shadowed figure. Only it wasn’t just a bird. It had talons—the knives that had pierced her—and wings, but a human torso and arms like a man. It tilted its head sideways, glaring at her with a decidedly inhuman eye. Its face was some blasphemous mix between man and bird, its nose ending in a beak. A long white stripe of feathers crested the back of its head. What monster was this thing?
And if the man here was served by some monster or spirit, then he must be a god, or at least a kupua.
The figure extended a palm toward her, fingers splayed. Something pulled at the wounds in her shoulders, yanking her to her knees. Blood—her blood!—streamed through the air, drifting toward the dark being before her. It ran like a river over the ten paces between them. This fiend intended to drain her dry.
“There is power in your blood,” the man said. “Succulent, spiritual. A little Princess, and possessed.”
Namaka’s breath grew shallow. She was really going to die here. To die, and with her, her mother and her people would fall. All because she was too far from water. No ocean. No lake, no river, save the river of her own blood. Her precious blood. Blood was … leaving. Blood was … water. Partly water.
Through bleary eyes she fed mana into the blood. Controlling it was infinitely harder than exercising her Gift over pure water. But she didn’t need finesse or great quantity, just a chance to catch the creature off
-guard. She sent one stream jetting forward like a spear. The figure ahead cried out, tumbling to the ground from her unexpected assault. Namaka pulled the other stream of blood back into her body. The effort—and pain of it—was extreme. It took almost all her concentration to stop her bleeding.
“Halulu, kill her!” the figure called.
A flap of its wings sent the avian monster soaring into darkness again.
Namaka glanced around, trying to spot it. She couldn’t see the damn thing. But she did see the opening in the shaft where Kana was now climbing up. Climbing up to his death. She gave over trying to stop her bleeding and forced herself to her feet, made a mad dash for Kana.
A shadow and rush of wind alerted her to the diving bird-thing. Namaka hit the ground in a roll that carried her almost to the edge of the shaft. The bird’s talons swept through the air where she had stood, and it rose, readying another pass. Namaka whimpered and crawled toward Kana. The man had crested the lip now and lunged forward, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back down.
They both fell, tumbling down to the ledge below. Dizziness sent her world spinning. Some part of her knew if she gave in, if she lost consciousness, she would bleed to death.
“Namaka!”
What little energy she had, she focused on keeping her blood in her body. Kana lifted her in his arms and jumped down from one ledge to another, grunting in pain with each drop. Most likely he tore gashes in his feet like that. A shadow passed over the cavern entrance, but the bird did not descend into the tunnel. Perhaps it did not want to face them where it couldn’t fly.
But now, the only light came from that cavern far above. Kana stumbled down the tunnel the way they had come, occasionally colliding with the wall. She wanted to help, to do something. But it took all she to keep her eyes open.
Eventually Kana stumbled one too many times, and Namaka fell from his arms. Aumakuas, she just wanted to sleep. To surrender. Some part of her knew Nyi Rara’s soul would eventually repair the damage to her body, should she live that long.
“Are you still with me?” Kana asked, his words broken by panting.
“Yes,” she mumbled.
But they had other problems. In total darkness they couldn’t find the way back. Well before they reached the menehune village, the tunnel would have branches, paths that led aumakuas knew where. If they took the wrong one they could easily find themselves lost forever. Worse, the route they had taken had carried them past gorges and pits where one wrong step could send them plummeting to their deaths.
“I’m sorry,” she said after a few moments of silence. “I lost the torch.”
He grunted. It wouldn’t surprise her if he had already considered the difficulties they faced. Maybe that was why he didn’t bother rising, didn’t press onward.
“We failed,” he said. “Niheu …”
They failed because, faced with such opponents, what could either of them have possibly done? Even if the Waters of Life had lain in there, she hadn’t been able to sense them. Maybe her confusion and wounds had made it more difficult. Maybe the Waters’ guardians blocked her from sensing it. Either way, she’d had no weapon save her own blood and, hardly enough of that for her to fight the man and his monster both. She should have known. The menehune had told her the Place of Darkness would cost her her life. But she’d been so intent to save everyone else she’d thought herself invincible.
And what in the whole Spirit Realm had that thing been? Nothing in Nyi Rara’s experience—at least not in the shadows of it Namaka could access—seemed to hold memory of any such power. No spirits she was familiar with could control blood in such a way.
Aumakuas, she had walked into a situation she’d had no understanding of. And in doing so, she had not only damned herself and Kana, but all those who counted on them.
“I’m sorry about your brother.”
“I’m sorry for your people.”
Namaka sighed and shut her eyes. Her people. Sometimes she missed talking to Nyi Rara. An odd sensation, because she was, in fact, Nyi Rara. She missed talking to herself. Having a fused consciousness was not the same as having another person to talk to. She had Kana, but he could never know her as deeply as Nyi Rara could. And still, she was grateful for his presence. If she was going to die here, at least she didn’t have to die alone.
A last comforting thought. Namaka patted around in the darkness until she found his hand and held it tight.
“There’s light coming from the tunnel,” Kana said.
His words jolted Namaka. She must have slept, at least for a moment. She opened her eyes to see a faint illumination drawing near, and not from the Place. Had Molowa returned for them? And what would the menehune do if he had? They had failed utterly. Maybe he would still let them go, save them, in effect. Or maybe not. He hadn’t wanted to antagonize Hiyoya, but that didn’t mean the Earth spirit was on their side.
She sat up, stretching her aching shoulders. The wounds had sealed, but even that slight stretch felt like it would reopen the gouges. A human would probably have died from the bird-monster’s attack.
She squinted into the shadows, but couldn’t make out the source of the light. It was coming toward them, though.
“Fish Girl!” Kamapua’a’s voice rang out before he had even come into view.
Namaka choked on her own laugh. How was that even possible? Kam was here. Maybe the aumakuas did love her after all.
“Kam,” she said as the wereboar trod amidst them, bearing the welcome light of a fresh torch.
He sniffed, then knelt beside her. “Pig shit, girl. What on Milu’s icy ass happened to you? Who did this shit?” He poked her shoulder, sending a fresh stab of pain through her.
“Ow.” She slapped his hand away. “It’s a long story. What are you doing here? How did you even find me?”
“Once I caught your scent it wasn’t too hard. I found some menehune, too! I asked if I could keep one as a pet, but they said no. Called me a shifter. I’m not shifty at all. Kam is rocksteady like a boulder. And mighty. You already know that. So I told ‘em I was your friend, and they told me you were probably dead. I came running.”
“You saved my life. Both our lives.” She nodded at Kana, who was watching the exchange with wide eyes.
“He your lover? About time, girl. You gotta spread that mana, you know. Besides, it’s fun. Trust me.”
“Uh, no. Kana’s not …” Namaka glanced at the young man by her side. It wasn’t that she hadn’t considered it. It was just the timing. “We were trying to find the Place of Darkness together. And we did, it’s just that it was protected by something powerful.”
Kam snorted. “Should I smash it?”
“I’m not certain you could.”
“Mighty Kam is insulted, Fish Girl.”
“Why did you come after me? I thought you were with Pasikole.”
Kam’s face turned dark, and he slumped down onto his haunches. “Things didn’t go very well on this island.” He spoke of the underwater volcano damaging their ship, which she’d known. Then he went on to say they’d encountered Pele, and after that, the villagers had turned on them. Stolen a boat. “Pasikole wanted to get it back no matter what. It offended his pride, I think. And we went to force them, but they … one of them murdered him while I was disabled by the shitting sun. I tried … I tried to help, Namaka.”
A cold hollow settled over her heart and seized her stomach. “Dead?” That seemed impossible. Pasikole had come to Sawaiki less than three weeks before, but after everything that had happened, it felt so much longer. Like she’d known him for months, for years. And part of her still wanted him. He’d asked for her, to be with her, and she’d denied him. And why? Because she felt lost, because she felt she had to find herself. But deep down, she’d still thought they’d have time. When all the chaos and war was done …
“Yeah. The chief, he had his people eat Pasikole for his mana. I couldn’t do shit then. But I came back at night and I …”
“Yo
u avenged your friend,” Kana said.
“Shit, yes.”
Kana put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
She rubbed her forehead. It was all too much to wrap her mind around. She’d just left Pasikole a few days ago. Had assumed they would talk when she got back to the Valley Isle. Now, they would never speak again. Had some local kahuna sent his soul on to its rest?
The pained look on Kam’s face, like a boy begging forgiveness, broke the dam in her heart and tears finally welled in her eyes. She had lost someone else, someone she could have saved had she been there. Kam wrapped her in a sudden embrace. Despite the fresh pain in her shoulders, she hugged him back, not willing to let him face it alone. They had lost a lot, the both of them, over these past few weeks. People—and a dragon—they had loved. They’d lost childhoods, for that matter.
Once, she had chided him for calling himself her brother. How wrong she had been. Raised by the same dragon, they were siblings, blood ties be damned.
“You came for me … brother.”
“Always. It’s what family’s for, right?”
She nodded, then looked to Kana, who had grown even more forlorn at the reminder of his own brother’s situation. She couldn’t give up. This attempt to save her mother, to save her people, had ultimately cost Pasikole his life. Had led to her trespassing here and thus became the reason for her fight with Pele, and therefore the final cause of Niheu’s injuries. If she walked away now, it was all for nothing.
Her mother would die. Niheu would die. And hundreds if not thousands of others would fall to this disease. She could not allow that to happen.
But nor was she in any shape to fight whatever monster controlled the Place of Darkness. There was more than physical darkness there—it was protected by some demonic force from beyond even the Ghost World. Nyi Rara’s memories hinted at the stories, the fear of those even in the Spirit Realm—of realms beyond, forces more terrible than themselves.