by Matt Larkin
“Your diplomacy doesn’t seem to include humans.”
Ake snorted. “Humans serve their purpose. We need bodies, after all. Your … Princess Nyi Rara’s sister has a chamber in Kuula Palace and is here now, which is why we did not first head to the Dakuwaqa Estate.”
Namaka blanched, suddenly realizing she knew next to nothing about mer society.
In her mind, Nyi Rara chuckled, enjoying Namaka’s discomfort a little much. A moment later, the mermaid seized control of her body and swam into a grotto off the main hall. Inside this, a host of a dozen mer rested around a large stone bowl in the floor. All necks swiveled to her the moment she entered, and one mermaid in particular straightened and rose to a greater height. Her tail was red, though fletched with orange much like Nyi Rara’s. Stripes of darkened color rose up the scales of her tail and even the flesh of her ribs and breasts, like a tiger shark. Indeed, the mermaid’s eyes had become like black opals, her face more shark-like than many of the mer Namaka had seen thus far.
An older host.
Yes. My elder sister, Kuku Lau, the Voice of Dakuwaqa ‘Ohana now that our father is gone.
Sisters. And this time, ironically, Namaka was the younger sister.
“You are returned to us at last,” Kuku Lau said.
“It took me a long time to regain my strength having been discorporated. I am fortunate my soul escaped back to Avaiki. I suspect they might have otherwise intended to feast upon it.”
Kuku Lau frowned, her grimace all the more horrifying for the alien cast of her features. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
“Queen Aiaru blamed Father for the events that day. She had the Ukupanipo sacrifice him to the Elder Deep. They devoured him, body and soul, sending his essence down into Naunet.”
What the fuck is all this? Namaka thought.
A sudden, violent pressure against her mind was Nyi Rara’s only answer. That, and a palpable rage that Namaka knew all too well, for she had experienced such herself often in the past years. It beat upon her now, driving her down, into an oppressive darkness that tried to swallow her whole.
NYI RARA GLANCED around the table, struck speechless by what her sister had said.
“‘Ohana is everything,” Kuku Lau said.
“‘Ohana is everything,” Nyi Rara repeated, mind still reeling. The ranking members of the Dakuwaqa ‘Ohana now gathered in this grotto, all looking to her, as if she was going to reverse the trend of their misfortunes. She, who had spent years struggling to hold her soul together after her body’s destruction by Hiyoya at Tenebrous Chasm. She, who had no idea what had transpired in the Mortal Realm in her absence.
And they’d placed her into the body of this so-called Sea Queen, thinking the woman’s mana would prove a boon? How much had they risked to achieve that? Should Nyi Rara tell them they’d made a terrible mistake? That her host was too strong or that she herself had not recovered enough to control a host of such power and will? How weak that would make her look. How useless.
Tilafaiga and Taema, her gold-tailed cousins, swam to her side and offered her their embraces. “I’m sorry you had to hear about Uncle Ikatere like that,” Tilafaiga said.
Nyi Rara forced any expression from her face, not trusting herself to grieve her father and risk letting Namaka out of her prison. “The other ‘ohanas have betrayed us.”
Kuku Lau sneered. “They betrayed us in the Sundering, more than two thousand years ago, sister. All we have done since is to reclaim what is rightfully ours. Small wonder they work to stop us.”
The Sundering, in the wake of the Rogo War, had nearly destroyed Dakuwaqa ‘Ohana and allowed Kuula ‘Ohana to usurp the throne. As a concession—Father would have called it a mockery—Kuula had allowed the ruling bloodline of Dakuwaqa to retain the titles prince and princess. That, and not much else.
And Ukupanipo, obsessed with reverence to the Elder Deep, had blamed Dakuwaqa ‘Ohana for all of it, saying their lack of piety had wrought the Sundering that created Hiyoya. The zealots had broken away from Dakuwaqa to form their own ‘ohana. One touched with madness and religious fervor in equal parts.
“We must now consider what—” Kuku Lau broke off, staring at Ake who had swum into the entryway.
Behind the Ranger Commander swam three warrior mer Nyi Rara did not know. Kuula warriors, no doubt.
“Queen Aiaru summons you, Princess Nyi Rara.”
Nyi Rara stifled a groan. Too much to hope the queen would not have learned of her return just yet. She motioned forward. “Lead the way.”
It was not Ake but one of the Kuula mermaids, though, who guided her. The host was young, but that meant nothing. What did matter, though, was that this mer kept casting disdainful glares in Nyi Rara’s direction.
“What is it?” Nyi Rara finally snapped. “You have something you wished to say to me?”
“My father died at the Chasm.”
Nyi Rara bit back her first response. “So did I.” And so had, effectively, her own father. “It was a massacre all around.”
“And yet, you’re back.”
“After a decade, yes, I finally …” Nyi Rara stopped herself. “Who are you, Kuula?”
“Hokohoko, and yes, of Kuula. ‘Ohana is everything.” The mermaid pointed to an archway leading into the throne room.
NAMAKA SHRIEKED, throwing all her will, all her mana against the prison of darkness Nyi Rara had thrown her in. She raged and pounded and then heard the mermaid gasp, her control faltering. Consciousness returned only to find herself swimming through a great throne room. The ceiling was massive, stretching up four stories and following the same arch shape, creating an airy grotto. Thousands of polished shells decorated the throne room, the most notable of which was the throne itself. It had perhaps been a giant conch the size of a person but had been broken open to allow the queen to rest upon it.
And that queen had abandoned any semblance of humanity. Her skin had turned aquamarine and was covered with scale-like bubbles. Mollusks jutted from her shoulders and a seashell grew from her head. Was that what happened when a host was possessed for centuries?
Did that mean this fish creature was closer to the true form of mermaids? Was that what they looked like in their own realm?
The queen had eyes the same color as her skin, but they sparkled with faint luminosity. She raised a webbed hand and beckoned Namaka closer.
She swam up to the throne and bowed, the gesture awkward in this form. Nyi Rara pressed against her mind, twirling her tail in an intricate pattern, apparently the more appropriate greeting. “My Queen,” Nyi Rara said with Namaka’s mouth.
“Welcome back, princess. You have been long away from the Mortal Realm.” The queen waved a hand idly, and the water swirled about it. The same power Namaka had, used so casually, as if the queen didn’t even think on it.
All our kind have some such control.
The statement was laced with such disdain Namaka almost choked on it. What did Nyi Rara mean? That the other mermaids could control the sea, but not the way Namaka did?
We have control.
Control. Not the raw power. Namaka’s gift must be stronger than that of the mer. Oh, how that must gall them. She, half human, wielding greater power over the seas than Water spirits.
You test my patience.
“The battle your host died in sparked a war with Hiyoya, Nyi Rara. I trust you know this. And these past few years have not gone as we might have hoped. Their numbers are greater and they’ve marshaled a vast army of tiger sharks. Oh, we win some engagements, for certain. But with every passing year, their domain grows. They seem to think all the Seven Seas ought to belong to them. I disagree.”
Which is where I come in, Nyi Rara thought.
Except, she meant where Namaka came in. They wanted her raw power and Namaka was of little mind to give it freely. Not if Nyi Rara thought she could shove Namaka down and take control whenever she pleased.
You are a petty host and I am a goddess
.
“I have a plan to change the course of the war. A plan Dakuwaqa ‘Ohana shall bear the brunt of. I’ll lead our forces on a surprise offensive.”
“Offensive?” Aiaru seemed to be almost laughing at her. “I fear you’ve not been properly apprised of our situation, princess.”
Arrogant bitch. Namaka may not have appreciated Nyi Rara’s actions, but the sheer disdain that seeped off Aiaru made her gills itch. Strange sensation.
Nyi Rara, too, stiffened. “I have been so apprised. I wish to consult the Urchin.”
Now the queen leaned forward, baring shark teeth in a too-wide mouth. “If you can convince Ukupanipo ‘Ohana, I’ll not bar your way. I hardly think the priests will allow the daughter of a traitor access to the Urchin, though. Do you?”
Namaka felt Nyi Rara struggling to control her face. “Am I dismissed?”
The queen nodded.
Nyi Rara twirled her tail again and swam from the throne room.
All right. It was about time the damn mermaid explained what was going on in Mu.
Do not get ahead of yourself.
What in Milu’s misty underworld did that mean?
And do not invoke her name, not ever. Perhaps my people took you for their own ends. I suspect you gave them reason enough. Perhaps the very same reason you welcome me into your soul, so eager to join our world just to escape your own.
And why should she get involved in a war between mer kingdoms? What business was that of hers?
These are your people now, Namaka. Can you stand idle while they fight and die for their freedom?
So … the only way Nyi Rara was going to let her have any control over her fate from now on was to embrace Mu as her people now.
Which meant a truce between them.
You still think you have a choice.
The mermaid, Hokohoko, glared at Namaka as she swam past, but Nyi Rara ignored the girl, joining Ake, who led her from Kuula Palace and back out into the city proper.
Namaka did think she had a choice. Petty host or not, she had the power to seize control of her body, even if only for a few moments. She had the strength to disorient and divert Nyi Rara at every turn. The mer wanted a host with power. Power came with a price.
You will work with me, Namaka said in her mind, or you will find battle even more chaotic than usual. Can you afford to lose control while under attack? Do you wish to use my powers?
Nyi Rara snarled at her, drawing a look from Ake. Submit, mortal!
Dying weakened you for a decade. Care to die again because of your arrogance?
The mermaid growled now, but released Namaka, allowing her to freely swim alongside Ake.
They swam through the benthic city. Coral covered large swathes of it, and much construction was cut directly from the substance. Other buildings seemed carved of stone. But low down, in crevasses she saw hints of foundations that looked older, lending some credence to the tales that Mu had once been a land that sank.
Yes. The old continents destroyed each other. Old Mu broke apart and became Sawaiki and Kahiki and other islands across the Muian Sea. The other six seas are populated by archipelagos of similar origins, from the ruins of Kumari Kandam and Kêr-Ys, though Hy-Brasil escaped somewhat more intact.
What the fuck did all that mean?
In a crevasse, Ake guided her to a series of hollows carved into the wall. From windows streamed hundreds of blue-green lights. Sharks swam freely about in front of the compound—the Dakuwaqa Estate, Namaka assumed. Hidden in recesses in the coral or clinging to the sharks, she spotted the occasional tattooed mer warrior, bearing spears or tridents.
Dakuwaqan Rangers. The pride of Mu. Their numbers dwindle as the war drags on.
Ake led her inside the estate, through long corridors, where she passed Taema, who offered her a timid nod. “The sun will rise soon. We rest now, and we leave for the front once the moon returns.”
The grotto was decorated with beautiful seashells and featured a circular hole in the ceiling to let in moonlight. The moment she saw it, a profound sense of being home washed over her, as though her human life had been a dream, separating her soul from its true place.
Nyi Rara appeared to be resting, for she had relinquished control and said nothing.
“What is your position, exactly, Ake?”
Ake must have taken her question as an invitation to follow her into the grotto. “You are the host.”
“I am. Or maybe she’s my host.”
Ake gnashed shark-like teeth, as if unable to form a response to that. After a moment of awkward silence, he shook his head. “I am the Commander of the Rangers and younger brother to Taema and Tilafaiga.” He paused a moment. “And that is not how I got my position.” A sensitive topic? “You should rest. Your body and mind will need to be strong for tomorrow.”
Namaka nodded, and settled down along the seabed to rest, watching Ake as he left.
This all pushed her so far beyond her experience … but she had no desire to go back. If this was her life, she would gladly accept it.
Provided she could rule, and not Nyi Rara, or at the very least achieve a balance.
Namaka would settle for no less.
12
Days Gone
NAMAKA HAD drunk deep of the awa during the luau, and now, the morning sun had her head feeling like the sea breaking upon rocks.
Relentless.
She sat on the lagoon’s shore, her pa‘u strewn further up the beach—she’d left the feather cloak in the palace—letting the tide wash over her feet.
Early in the morning, a few fishermen were out on the lagoon, but mostly the village remained quiet, others sleeping off the awa and the celebration. Lono’s Festival—the new year—would continue another four days. During such times, tabus were lightened, and men and women lost themselves in revelry, lasciviousness, and general joy at life.
It was the best time of the year, really, and Namaka had taken both her husbands to bed that night, a thought that brought a quirk of a smile to her face in remembrance. She’d snuck out now, not overly concerned about waking them. The odds of either of them waking after downing that much awa were about the same as her odds of tripping over the moon.
No, it meant she was alone this morning, save for the soft plodding across the sand of someone stalking closer.
“Aloha, Queen Namaka,” Aukele called, approaching.
She glanced in his direction, and he discarded his own malo skirt so he could sit on the water’s edge beside her. He ought to have waited for her to invite him to sit, but the man was bold. A prince in his own land, a descendant of Mo‘oinanea, and perhaps that somehow left him thinking he was her equal here.
“I don’t think you know much about Uluka‘a,” she said at last.
“What do you mean?”
“Tell me of your gods in Sawaiki. To whom are your heiaus dedicated?”
Aukele shrugged. “The highest is Kāne, of course, who saved man from the Deluge. Then Lono, whom I heard your own people worshipping last night. Kū is lord of war and the wilds. Kanaloa is god of the deep.”
Namaka nodded slowly, not really looking at him. “The worship of Lono is a holdover from days long gone. All the gods you mentioned, yes, my people still pay homage to them, though less to Kū or Kāne, who left in the days of Maui. I’m told they remain popular in nearby Kahiki. Here, though, in Uluka‘a, the first power is always Haumea.”
“I’m not familiar with that goddess.”
“My mother,” she said. Now, Aukele stiffened appreciably and Namaka barely forced down her chuckle at his obvious shock and discomfort. “Haumea ruled here for countless generations, even in the time of Maui, but some years back, she tired of it all and wished to leave. She had four …” Aukele had no need to know about those long gone. “At the time she had three daughters, but since has dropped one more in our laps—and decided to divide Uluka‘a between the two eldest of us, myself and Pele. The younger daughter, Kapo, then left for Sawaiki, alongside he
r mentor and fellow sorceress, Uli.”
Aukele clapped his hands on his knees. “What I see from all this is … we are connected, you and I, your family and mine.”
Namaka laughed at his audacity in such a claim. While she tried to explain to him that the people of Uluka‘a saw her and Pele as god-queens, all Aukele heard was Namaka’s commonalities with him.
“You are kupua,” she said, “but not a wererat or any other kind of shifter. So what, exactly, can you do?”
Aukele shrugged. “I swim very well. I can hold my breath much longer than a normal man. In fact, I have greater than human stamina in … all endeavors.”
She rolled her eyes. Amazing. “Come with me.”
Namaka led Aukele back toward the valley where Milolii had raised her and where, by his recognition, the mo‘o had clearly been sheltering Aukele for some time. At some point, Namaka would need to seek out the dragon and have words with her about that.
Still, she could hardly blame Milolii for sheltering her own descendant, could she?
For now, though, she merely enjoyed the pleasance of Aukele’s continuing story. “You can imagine I was taken aback to have come face to face with a distant ancestor, and the greatest of the mo‘o, no less. I was yet more askance at the conversation with Mo‘oinanea that followed.”
“A LONG TIME I waited for one such as you,” Mo‘oinanea said to me. “One flush with mana, strong enough to lay claim to a great destiny. The tides of fate are complex, you see, and we are caught in currents that stretch back and forward through time, bending us to great and terrible purposes.”
Still trembling a little—which I shall attribute to pain—I could only gape at her. I had little idea what she meant by such lines which, coming from anyone else, would have seemed comically pompous.
“You know of the land from which Maui sailed, twelve centuries ago?”
“Savai‘i.”
“Yes. East of there lies Kahiki, where some of Maui’s first kāhuna came from. And across the channel from Kahiki lies the fabled kingdom of Uluka‘a, now ruled by the glorious queens, Namaka and Pele. You must go there. And you must become king.”