The Burning Princess

by Matt Larkin

  But Kana had promised himself to Molowa as a new host, had made a blood oath. If they succeeded, Kana’s brother would be saved and Kana would be lost forever. It was a prize to the menehune, one they would—she hoped—honor enough to keep from interfering with her goals. The price of it was too high, of course. Kana was a good man, a friend. And she had no way to save him. Nothing she could do would release him from his oath. And with a menehune riding his body, his mind would fall into subservience, even as his handsome body shrunk and warped to fit its new occupant’s twisted nature. Human hosts treated as such eventually lost themselves, driven mad by the centuries of impotent solitude. Given enough time, not even madness truly remained. The man who had been Kana would dwindle away to nothing, just … gone. Sapped away by a spirit feasting on his body and soul to sustain its immortality.

  One more friend lost to her. One more person she cared about sacrificed.

  When he at last emerged, Kana looked bedraggled. His eyes met hers, pled with her not to ask what had been said. She could do nothing but honor such an unspoken request.

  So she took his hand when he neared and squeezed it. What could she possibly say to alleviate the burden he bore? Nothing. She, bearing the soul of Nyi Rara, understood the pain he would suffer better than he himself did.

  Instead, she walked with him along the menehune village. Fusing Namaka’s and Nyi Rara’s souls had seemed a good idea, the only real option, but in times like this she couldn’t help feel her two sides tearing her apart. The human side, revolted by the alien, parasitic nature of spirits, while her own spirit side saw it as necessary and just. No different than a human hunting and eating animals.

  “You seem distracted,” he said, when they paused in front of a waterfall on the far side of the village.

  “You remember I told you I have two souls? They don’t always agree.”

  “Why not?”

  She sighed, and continued on, leading him onto the farthest outcropping. From here, she could see stalactites hanging over a cavern that seemed to stretch away forever. “Because humans are mortal, natural beings. And my mermaid side is a spirit, Kana. It’s not like people. It comes from a place that’s not even a place.” And had lived for two hundred years—which was nothing compared to some spirits. But telling him all that would only frighten him of a fate he could not hope to avoid.

  He smiled sadly. Maybe he had understood enough. He looked away for a little while, staring into the darkness. When he turned back to her, he squeezed her hand. “When you told Kam we were not lovers, was that regret in your voice?”

  Her heartbeat quickened as he ran his thumb gently over her knuckles. There was regret for so many things. She had held herself apart as Princess, while other children her age had learned of sex, learned to take pleasure from their bodies and from one another. A Princess had a different standard than other people, different rules, different tabus. And it was nonsense. It had been so ingrained in her that it had grown into a fear, a timidness that had caused her to hold herself back from Pasikole when she’d wanted to delight in him. And now he was dead.

  She would not repeat that mistake.

  She would not delude herself into thinking this love. But it was something. And they needed each other. She leaned in and kissed Kana. He threw his arms around her, kissing her mouth, then cheeks, and her neck.

  Finally, she led Kana away from the village, down by the now-toxic lake. Almost afraid to speak, afraid to say the wrong thing, she tossed aside her skirt. Kana pulled his own off as well, then gently guided her down to the ground, kissing her all the way.

  Namaka lay with her head on Kana’s chest, feeling the steady beating of his heart. He slept now, no doubt exhausted.

  She had known it would hurt, though not how much. Her insides felt sore, but a welcome warmth had spread throughout her whole body. Maybe her fear had been for nothing. She wanted to tell herself she’d been waiting for Kana all this time, but that would have been a lie.

  “I wish I could save you,” she whispered.

  There were a lot of people she wanted to save. Despite all her power, many, like Kana, lay beyond her help.

  “So,” Kamapua’a said as they walked through the obsidian tunnel. “You look different. Wonder what it is. Hmm.”

  Namaka flushed, but said nothing. How did the wereboar even know?

  As if he knew what she was thinking, he tapped his nose then winked suggestively. He could smell it? She didn’t think she smelled different. Aumakuas, if Kam could smell it every time someone had sex, no wonder he was so obsessed with it.

  “We should focus on the task at hand,” she said, trying not to smile. It was a moment she would treasure, but she wasn’t ready to talk to Kam about that.

  “We’re getting close,” Kana said. The man had managed to acquire a pair of candlenut torches from the menehune, but he hadn’t lit them yet. The fires hovering in Pele’s hands gave off enough light. He paused now, though, lighting one of the torches off those same fires. The Flame Princess looked at him curiously. “You get knocked down and we’re left in darkness. Lesson learned.”

  A subtle jibe at Namaka. Even if he had meant it as a tease, it was a reminder that she’d dropped their last torch and left them in total darkness. If Kam hadn’t come along, they’d have died. Considering the moment they had shared together a few hours ago, Namaka didn’t much feel like being teased by Kana. If he was even teasing her. He didn’t look her way, almost as if he meant no more by his words than a practical lesson. She scowled. She was letting her emotions run wild again.

  “Just remember the plan,” Pele said. “Keep the bird monster away from me. I’ll deal with Ku-Aha-Ilo.”

  “Wait, what?” Namaka asked. “You know the demon’s name?”

  “I suspect who it is. He’s not a demon, though as kupua I suppose he might be half-demon. I don’t know, really. But it’s personal between us. He hurt my family. Now I’m going to kill him.” With that, she pushed on ahead until they came to the vertical shaft.

  Namaka was not looking forward to climbing this place again. Especially not with the heavy water-filled gourd strapped to her back.

  Kamapua’a stretched a bit, looked at her, then winked. Then he ran and jumped onto the lowest shelf. She might have been stronger than a human, but he was stronger still. That much power in his legs allowed him to easily clear leaps near-impossible for a normal person.

  With a clearly disgusted sigh Pele accepted his offered hand, and he pulled her up onto the ledge. Then the wereboar lifted the Flame Princess in his arms and made the next jump. Leap after leap.

  “Kana …” Namaka said.

  He shook his head. “Go. I’ll follow as I can. Not much I could do to fight a bird monster anyway.”

  She sighed, then kissed him once for luck and began the ascent. Kam probably had the right of it. Rather than cut herself up climbing, she jumped the first few ledges. Then there was that gap, but Kam stood waiting for her there, hand extended. She ran and jumped, grabbing his arm. With a single fluid motion he yanked her onto the ledge. The movement reminded her of the soreness in her shoulder. Nyi Rara’s nature had allowed her injuries to heal—at least on the outside—but it would take days more before she returned to full strength. And now they hunted the very beast that had done this to her.

  Kam hefted Pele into the cavern, making no effort to hide his looking up her skirt in the process. What did the wereboar even see in that petulant bitch? Whatever. Next, Kam lifted Namaka up.

  Darkness filled the cavern, but as soon as Pele lit her hand torch, fires began to spread around it once again. The complex circle was definitely some kind of eldritch design, its purpose and scope beyond even Nyi Rara’s imparted knowledge.

  High above, a bird screeched, sending a shiver down her spine and a fresh spike of agony through both shoulders. She and Pele shared a glance just as Kam scurried between them.

  “That sounded like supper,” he said.

  Namaka rolled her eyes. The w
ereboar could do with a little understanding of fear.

  In the shadows, the same figure wended its way amongst the flames, striding between them with practiced ease. “I don’t know whether I’m more surprised to see you return … or to see you brought my daughter with you.”

  Wait—daughter? Pele was this thing’s child? Hadn’t she just said he’d hurt her family?

  The man advanced on them without a hint of fear, until he stood perhaps ten paces away. Close enough for her to see tattoos covered half his face, chest, and one arm. Most of his head was shaved, save for a single long braid that hung down his back. He spread his hands wide in some grandiose gesture she didn’t understand, his eyes darting about as if taking in an unseen audience.

  “I know why you’ve come, Pele. You want the Waters of Life. But they are mine. For almost two thousand years I have protected this place, the legacy of my grandfather. Oh, you two are the reincarnated souls of his daughters, born over and over. But did you know the first Dark Princess had a son? A kupua with power unlike any the world had ever known. Nothing quite so unsubtle as the gifts of a Princess. The whispers in darkness led my mother to this place, and it has sustained me, as it can now sustain you, Daughter. Kill the Sea Princess and her swine, and I will show you how to take the power hidden in their blood.”

  Namaka reeled, uncertain how to react to this. Her eyes went to Pele, who glanced at her with barely concealed contempt. Was this all a trap? Had Pele and Ku-Aha-Ilo planned this? Or, even if they had not, how could she expect Pele to turn down her father’s offer? Worse still, he claimed to be the direct blood of Kū. If that was true, if he used the Waters of Life to live for two thousand years, they faced a foe ten times older than even Nyi Rara.

  Pele turned back to her, a flicker of a dark smile on her lips, made all the more sinister by her flaming hair. “Stick to the plan.” The Flame Princess strode toward her father then, shaking her head. “I gave you the chance to aid me, aid our people. Even back then you had the Waters and you did nothing. Now we will find out how much power is in your blood.”

  Ku-Aha-Ilo waved a hand and the bird screeched again. Namaka struggled with the straps on her gourd then slammed it on the ground, breaking it and freeing her water. A shadow dove for her. Namaka twisted, intending to send a jet of water into its face and knowing she’d be too late. And then Kamapua’a was flying through the air, his fist connecting with the bird-man’s jaw with a bone-crunching smack. The creature flipped end over end, pitching through flame and catching alight, before flopping around on the ground and wailing in agony.

  Kamapua’a struck a pose, flexing his biceps. “And that’s how you catch a bird for dinner.”

  A dozen more screeches rang through the cavern.

  From the look on his face, she’d been wrong—Kam did understand fear.

  Namaka spared a glance at Pele, who now advanced on her father, both fists engulfed in flame. Kāne, she hoped she could count on the Flame Princess. Namaka summoned the water into spiraling arcs around her as more and more of the bird-men and bird-women swooped down on her and Kam. She had only a gourd-full to work with, which meant her arcs were thin as finger bones, her power stretched to work with so little.

  The wereboar trembled, panting, and arched his back like he intended to assume boar form. And, indeed, his muscles bulged and tusks rose from his jaw. But he became not a boar, nor a man. Rather, some nightmarish hybrid the likes of which she had never seen.

  He looked to her, almost as if asking if she judged him a monster. But Kam was no monster. He was the one who had walked by her side, seen her weaknesses, and picked her up again.

  “Are you ready, Brother?”

  The wereboar spread his arms and bellowed defiance at the swooping birds.

  One of their attackers swooped down toward Pele. Namaka jerked her arm forward, flinging a thin lance of water at the bird. The blast tore through the bird’s wing and it crashed down a few paces behind the Flame Princess. She didn’t slow, was totally intent on her father. And Pele probably did have the best chance to face that blood-wielding demon in a place like this. It took too much out of Namaka to counter his blood powers, if she even could now that she had lost the element of surprise. That meant it fell to Namaka and Kam to keep the birds away from them.

  She spun back to find the wereboar had caught another bird-man, a hand on each wing. Roaring, Kam ripped the wings right off the monster’s back, then ducked his head and opened the thing’s gut with his tusks.

  Staggering at such brutality, Namaka fell back. But she had no time to dwell on it. Instead, she ran toward the cliff where the bird things seemed to dwell, trailing streams of water behind her. She would run out of it before she ran out of targets, but she had no choice.

  A trio of those creatures circled her now. As one dove for her, Namaka dropped to one knee, then arced the water around to knock the bird out of the air. Every time she struck home, she wound up losing a bit of her water. Even as she turned toward the other two, Kam had bounded over—covering great swathes of the tunnels in each leap—and landed atop the bird-man, goring it.

  At once, the other two swooped down on her. She rolled to the side, but still talons grazed her back, drawing a scream out of her. She whipped her last remaining water around. It struck a bird-woman under the chin with such force she heard its neck break backwards. The thing’s corpse flopped over like a doll.

  Panting, she touched her back. Long bloody streaks marred it now. Drops of water remained scattered around the cavern, but she would need time to gather it again.

  “Kam! We have to keep these things away from Pele!”

  Were these creatures Moon spirits like Kam himself? Some half-demon spawn of Ku-Aha-Ilo? Namaka shook her head. It didn’t really matter. They served this blood monster, and she intended to destroy them for it.

  Kam charged another pair of the creatures while Namaka rose.

  A bird-man dropped several paces in front of her. A streak of white feathers ran along the top of its head, separating the browns. This was the one that had hurt her before. Her shoulders ached at the reminder of it.

  “Halulu …” she mumbled. That was what Ku-Aha-Ilo had called it.

  The monster cocked its head to the side before taking a step forward. Its legs had backward-bending knees like a bird’s, and they ended in massive talons. Heart hammering in her chest, Namaka advanced to meet this creature. From around the cavern she began to summon water to her. Rivulets, drops, puddles, all began to coalesce in streams flying toward her.

  A single beat of its wings carried Halulu across the gap between them. Before Namaka could even react, it had hefted her up by her throat. She grabbed its arm, but even her mermaid strength couldn’t pry free the bird’s grip. All at once, the sensation of being strangled by the he’e overcame her, and with it, a surge of mind-blanking panic. In that instant, she lost her grip on the waters she had been summoning.

  She was going to die.

  Somewhere far away Kam roared, the sound barely registering over the cries of more and more of the bird monsters.

  Cold sweat dripped down her arms and back, stinging the gouges the other birds had torn open.

  Halulu leaned its half-human face closer to her own, sneering at her.

  She was the master of water.

  And water was life, it was everywhere. In her blood, in her sweat.

  With a single focused thought she wiped all sweat and blood from her body, forming it up to hover between her face and that of the monster. If it had any idea what she intended, it didn’t have time to react. Namaka jerked her hands down and the water followed the motion, dropping like a falling blade. It sliced the bird-man’s arms clean off.

  Eyes bulging, it fell backward, staring at its severed limbs and whimpering.

  Without his might holding her aloft, Namaka fell to her knees, gasping for air. Her vision remained blurred at the edges, but she forced herself to rise, to advance on the now frightened bird. Other bird-men now watched th
eir leader, aghast at what she had done. Well, let them see.

  “You think your blood demon is someone to fear?” Her voice came out a rasp.

  Blood poured from the bird’s stump despite his feeble attempts to staunch the flow. Blood—water. Yes, manipulating it would exhaust her. It would also make a point to the remaining bird monsters. One they might never forget.

  Namaka fed her mana into the blood, yanked it out of the creature’s body in a hundred different streams, then bent it back around the bird-man. It screeched in horror, pain. She had to make a point. Namaka turned its blood into lashes, slicing hundreds upon hundreds of cuts upon the bird-man’s wings, chest, and face. From those cuts she pulled more and more blood, turning those into spears that blasted dozens of punctures through the creature.

  Screaming—in rage and in effort—she sent all that blood crashing back into its owner. And then, not releasing her grip on it, she fell to her knees, driving a fist to the ground. Calling every drop of the blood out of the bird. It ripped through the creature’s body, his flesh exploding in a shower of gore.

  Utterly spent, barely able to raise her head, she glared at the remaining bird-creatures. All of which watched her. Kam, covered head to toe in blood and viscera and still sporting tusks, stalked closer then hovered protectively above her. The monsters glanced at one another, and then, one by one, took flight and retreated to the safety of their cliff.

  Someone helped her to her feet. Not Kam, Kana. He had made the climb, had refused to let them face the demons on their own. The man nodded at her, and Namaka squeezed his hand.

  25

  Ku-Aha-Ilo shook his head sadly as Pele approached. “You disappoint me, Daughter.”

  “Now you know what it feels like.” She leapt forward, flinging the torches on her hands at him. The dual orbs of fire rushed at him in intersecting spirals that would immolate the fiend.

  His body ripped apart, transforming into blood and allowing the fire to pass harmlessly through an opening where his torso should have been. Immediately it resumed its solid form.