by Matt Larkin
These were the people Makua suggested she make herself queen of. That made them both her potential followers and her current threats.
Hi‘iaka tried to head off when the locals began offering coconuts, but Pele bid the girl stay back with the group, and trusted Lonomakua to see that Hi‘iaka obeyed.
After taking in the village, Pele allowed herself to be led as a guest to the palace, currently occupied by Kapawa’s widow, Naia. Naia’s little brother Milohai sat beside his sister, staring at Pele with a hint more defiance than she’d have liked.
“Welcome to Puna,” Naia said, when Pele’s party had settled on the floor before her.
Pele noticed several older kāhuna also watched the introduction. Old men worried about what the coming of a new group of ali‘i meant. Probably not unlike Queen Naia herself. Pele could easily kill Naia, or drive her into hiding, but what if she didn’t have to?
“Mahalo for the hospitality,” Pele said after a moment.
“If you’ll forgive me, I am in mourning. Thus, I have to ask directly about your intentions.”
Pele kept her gaze locked on Naia, trusting Hi‘iaka to keep an eye on everyone else and gauge their reactions. “You’ve heard of the sorceress Kapo?”
Behind her, Kapo groaned lightly.
Naia shrugged. “An apprentice of Uli, if I recall the mo‘olelo.”
Pele pointed back to her sister. “That’s her.” A murmur ran through the locals, especially the kāhuna. “My younger sister. Why am I here? I am here because a Savai‘ian queen has made war against my fellow Kahikians. Do I need another reason to come and see the widow of the Kahikian king, slain in this conflict? Do I need another reason to turn my ire upon this pompous Poli‘ahu?”
Naia nodded slowly. “Stay in Puna as my guests.”
Pele bowed her head.
WITH PELE’S PEOPLE SETTLED, Hi‘iaka came to her, bearing broken coconuts in her arms, and settled down in the women’s lodge. “Finally away from the men, right?”
Kapo sat on the opposite side of the house, clearly still irked with Pele for having brought her to Naia’s attention. But Pele’s sister had come here to explain things politically, hadn’t she? Did she expect Pele not to use her fame, as well?
The greater portion of Pele’s company now rested with Makua and Lonomakua in the men’s house, no doubt eating pork and bananas and such things forbidden to women. Pele, of course, had never allowed those tabus to apply to herself or Hi‘iaka. Not before. But here, in Sawaiki … “Our best chance of establishing our authority is to prove ourselves closer to the akua.”
Hi‘iaka snorted. “We’re kupua, right?”
“Yes. But I mean to say, we have to obey the local tabus. More than that, we have to … to introduce new gods brought from Uluka‘a and new forms of worship.”
Hi‘iaka shrugged like it made no difference to her. “You’re not going to kill anyone else, right?”
Pele sighed. Hi‘iaka was always this curious mix of naive and self-confident to the point others might have called hubristic. Ready to call herself a goddess, but afraid of the consequences of authority.
“The thing about power is, if you have it, other people will want it. They’ll do almost anything to take it away from you. And that means the only way to keep power is to use it. To show your enemies what might you wield and make them realize taking it from you would cost them more than they’re willing to pay. Sometimes, that means we have to hurt people. Sometimes, crushing a few people completely serves as an example to others, preventing you from having to hurt more people.”
“Huh. You realize that sounds more like an excuse to justify doing whatever you feel like?”
Pele rubbed her face. Maybe … maybe the girl had a point. But she didn’t understand how the world worked. “Soon, Hi‘iaka … soon you’ll start to bleed. Chances are, soon after that, you’ll find your mana seeping out into the environment, affecting it in some way. Affecting people. You are a daughter of Haumea, and all the heirs of Haumea possess fragments of her glory. Maybe you’ll be like me, maybe like Namaka, I don’t know. What I do know is this: you will have power. Power that will make others scared or jealous. You’ll face a choice, then. You can either spend every day using some of that power to prove to each comer that you deserve to stand where you do, or use a lot of that power once and prove it to everyone at the same time.”
“You mean you’re going to hurt someone as an example to the rest of Puna.”
“‘Aumākua! I don’t know, all right? I don’t know what I’m going to do or how!” Pele threw up her hands. Damn, but that girl could drive her to madness sometimes. “What I’m trying to tell you is that I’m going to do what I have to in order to give our ‘ohana its rightful place. If that means I have to burn or kill a few people or sacrifice them to the volcano or whatever, that’s what I’ll do. I’m going to place our ‘ohana first. And so are you.”
Hi‘iaka sniffed. “Yeah. Fine.”
PELE SAT STARING into the flame, long after the others slept. Willing it to speak to her. He was in there, she knew he was. Maybe he had the answers she was lacking.
She wanted to believe Hi‘iaka. To trust that she could accomplish this without destroying entire villages.
It formed up in the flames. A hint of eyes she could not otherwise see. A resonate yet ephemeral voice she alone could hear. A whisper.
A course of action.
One that left Pele trembling.
PELE FOUND Lonomakua and Makua standing by the palace wall. Though she could not make out their words, the set of their shoulders belied a tension. With each other? With the situation?
Makua thumped a finger in the other kahuna’s chest, and the man just glared back at the prophet.
Both fell silent as Pele drew near, casting unreadable glances her way. “What was that about?”
“Nothing,” Makua said.
Lonomakua nodded once, as if to agree that nothing had passed.
Pele pursed her lips and considered demanding the kāhuna reveal what went on here. Years of experience had told her pushing Lonomakua would avail her nothing, though. He might provide a semblance of answer that would satisfy her for a moment, only for her to realize on later reflection, he had artfully evaded the original intent of her question. All kāhuna were like that, she supposed. Slippery with their minds and their tongues. Perhaps questing for answers from the akua and ‘aumākua, seeking knowledge from Pō … perhaps it required a certain mental agility that allowed kāhuna to divorce themselves from traditional methods of thought.
Either way, at the moment, she had need of these men. “There’s a heiau close to the shore.” They’d seen the temple on a promontory when they came into the harbor. There, the center of the Vai‘ian faith would lie. There, she would begin her quest.
Both men nodded, clearly sensing her intent, and fell in behind her as she strode from the palace and back down toward the town. Puna sprawled lazily from the forest all the way to the shore, scattered houses flung about seemingly at random. A few on the outskirts lay reduced to embers, no doubt brought down by raids from Poli‘ahu’s old-dynasty loyalists. Pele could almost taste those ashes, feel the flames that had ravaged the houses.
Fire had a kind of memory to it. It was a change, a transition, yes, but it left behind reminders of its passage. A stronger pyromancer might even pull fragments of vision from those memories. Might reconstruct exactly what had transpired here. Pele had tried it often enough, under Lonomakua’s tutelage, but had only ever gained rare, contorted glimpses of the past or future. The present, however, proved a little easier to see in the flames.
They made their way up to the heiau, which was surrounded by a ten-feet stone wall. Beyond this, they passed a large stone ossuary where the kāhuna no doubt kept the bones of their own dead. A large central brazier held smoldering embers where it ought to have contained a massive blaze. At the center of the compound lay the inner sanctum where Makua told her the kāhuna had once consulted with the fo
rmer king in times of war or doubt.
A half dozen local kāhuna milled about the heiau, but only one approached Pele’s small party, offering her a slight nod as if she were but some minor ali‘i instead of a queen.
Pele forced a tight smile to her lips, then turned about slowly, taking in the ki‘i masks set into alcoves of the temple wall. “Are you the high kahuna here?”
“Yes. I am Keanu.”
“A disciple of Maui?”
The kahuna shrugged. “I am a disciple of Kū.”
Pele raised an eyebrow. The war god. Well, it hardly mattered. She turned away from him and strode to the dying brazier. “Maui left you kāhuna a great legacy. His disciples were firewalkers and pyromancers, masters of the flame, chosen to ward the world against the encroachment of Pō. Chosen to guide mankind. Maui came to Sawaiki with his chosen followers, promising a new life. Promising virtue.” Now she glanced back at Keanu, who had drawn up behind her scowling. Another kahuna, gray haired and round bellied, had come up behind his master, and others behind him. Pele ignored the others for now. “Imagine my surprise at following in Maui’s footsteps to find his heirs now weak. You have forgotten the legacy of fire. You have forgotten that fire is life.”
Pele dug a hand into the embers and flexed her fingers. Immediately, the flame roared up, becoming a towering column of fire that filled her vision. And whispered in her mind.
Yes … you must show them … show them their weakness … that they may see our strength …
“Pele …” Lonomakua’s voice was a warning.
But Pele was already resolved. Hi‘iaka wanted the minimum amount of violence necessary. Pele would strive to give that to her little sister. To win these people without … too much suffering.
“Look here, all of you!” she shouted, knowing every kahuna in the heiau was already staring at her anyway. She withdrew her hand but kept flames swirling around it. “Behold the Art of Fire! The legacy Maui left to you, which you have forgotten.” She thrust her hand high into the air. “Behold the power of your birthright long neglected. You have failed the akua of flame, and thus must offer them a sacrifice.”
Keanu took a step back, but Makua shoved him forward.
Pele looked deep into his eyes, feeling a twinge of sympathy. “The gods must have their due. I offer this sacrifice to you, King Moho.”
She lunged at him, caught the side of his cheek with her flaming hand, and drew him in close even as he shrieked. The older kahuna tried to grab him, but Makua shoved him away like he weighed nothing.
Keanu’s flesh sizzled, popped, and sloughed off reeking chunks. The man slumped to his knees.
And then the pain and fear in his eyes melted. Replaced with smoke and a hint of flame. The screams died all at once. Pele released him and he rose. Though swathes of his face remained missing, the bleeding slowed immediately. The man opened his mouth, and a billowing cloud of steam escaped.
“The true heir of Maui.” His voice was wispy, seeming to come from somewhere beyond his chest, and yet deep, as if originating in something much bigger than the shell of a man standing before her.
One of the other kāhuna screamed. Some fled, and others fell prostrate, weeping and pledging obedience. The old man dropped to his knees and bowed his head.
“I give you Moho, the God of Steam,” Pele said.
The akua strode to stand beside her.
“Who are you?” Pele asked the old kahuna, one who had obviously been second to Keanu.
“Kamalo, formerly of Moloka‘i, pledged to Queen Naia.”
“Pledge to me, Pele the Flame Queen.”
Kamalo’s mouth trembled. But he said the words.
When Pele left the temple, every kahuna in it had sworn fealty to her, declared her a goddess, and promised to make regular sacrifices into the volcano to appease the akua of fire.
It was a start.
The kāhuna would bring the people in line. And with commoners and priests supporting her, Pele doubted she would have to wage war against the ali‘i to get them to submit to her as queen.
Hi‘iaka had wanted a minimum of violence.
Pele had taken the throne at the cost of one man’s life.
That, and his soul.
14
Hundreds of mer soldiers swam before Namaka, leading the way to the front lines, while she hung back with Ake. It felt like they’d been swimming the whole damn night, and yet her new body still had the endurance to keep going.
“Everyone is praying you have enough control over the host’s power to turn the course of the war,” Ake said. The merman was now armed with a trident and it jutted out behind him as he swam forward. The weapon appeared to be metal, and well-wrought with elaborate barbs. But how did the mer forge metal weapons underwater?
We trade with humans.
Oh. Well, that had been a stupid question.
Ake glanced at her and she realized she hadn’t answered his implied question.
“I am the host, Mahalo.”
Ake quickly looked away, but she’d have sworn he rolled his eyes. Who did he think he was, doubting his princess’s right to let a queen control her own body? Here she was, two royals wrapped in one, and this boy was treating her like she needed his approval.
Boy? You realize he’s many times your age.
“Huh,” Namaka said.
Ake glanced at her again, eyebrow raised.
“Exactly how old are you, Ake?”
“Human, that is a rather rude question.”
Namaka shrugged. “I would argue that kidnapping and drowning me was kind of rude too. The way I see it, you’re probably ahead on that front.”
“I was following orders from my ‘ohana.”
“Uh huh.” Namaka fell silent a moment to bask in the glorious undersea realm. “Is it really true what the kāhuna say, about Kāne flooding the Earth to punish the wicked gods? There truly used to be more land?”
Ake uttered a long-suffering sigh, then looked at her, some internal debate going on behind his blue-green eyes. “The elders say the Earth was once much less hospitable, yes.”
Less hospitable? Namaka snorted. What a perspective these mer had.
And you think your perspective more neutral, to assume a world with more land is more suitable for life? There are twenty times more species living beneath the waves than above them.
“Huh.”
You are one of us now. Learn to think like a mer.
She swam beside him for a time. Wherever this battle was, it was damn far. They had to have swum sixty miles or more already.
Every time she opened her mouth, she tasted the salt in the water and a dozen other strange, intoxicating flavors. Her stomach growled. ‘Aumākua, she was hungry.
Then eat.
Eat what?
Control slipped from her and a beat of her tail carried her off course, crashing into a school of fish. Her hand snapped out and caught one with uncanny reflexes. Nyi Rara stuck the whole fish in her mouth and bit down. The moment of revulsion that filled Namaka fled as soon as succulent flesh and blood poured down her throat. A few bites had shredded the fish. Of course. She had shark teeth too.
Of course, you do. They descend when you need them.
Nyi Rara released her and she darted back after Ake. “Sorry. I was hungry.”
“Why are you apologizing?” The Ranger had a strange, almost continuous twitch about his lips.
Namaka shrugged. No human inhibitions at all? Hmmm. A delicious freedom, in its own right.
“Princess, why did you want to see the Urchin?” Ake asked.
Namaka opened her mouth to answer, realized she had no idea what the Urchin even was, and shut it. An instant later, she felt herself pushed down as Nyi Rara seized control of her body. “There are questions I need answered. I need to know what it will show me before I can be certain of my course.”
“What does that mean?”
Nyi Rara’s mind closed to Namaka like a falling curtain. “You were not at Tene
brous Chasm when Father died.”
Ake cast a glance at her, mouth twitching more than ever, then began increasing his pace, as if eager to catch his soldiers for some reason.
“What’s wrong?” Namaka asked, finding herself back in control.
“I expected scouts to report back to us by now.”
Namaka frowned. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”
Everything now was so fascinating, so new. This whole other life—another world—had opened before her and she didn’t even know where to begin. She could swim faster than she ever thought possible, explore a realm of strange beauty with no limits or borders.
You are the strangest host I have ever had.
A strange sensation of jealousy filled her. Just how many hosts had Nyi Rara had before her? Was it odd that she felt possessive of the spirit inside her?
Very odd. Most hosts are horrified, writhing in their impotence as a spirit enslaves their bodies.
Well, put like that it did sound horrifying. But it didn’t have to be like that, was not going to be that way. Nyi Rara was hers now.
I am not a puppy, human. I am possessing your body.
“Awww, that’s a cute little mermaid,” Namaka mumbled under her breath.
Water carried the sound farther than she expected, and Ake turned to her. Before he could speak though, he pulled up short behind the soldiers, looking again in their direction. And he sniffed.
Actually, she did smell something. What was that scent? Like a tangy flavor tickling her senses, calling her …
Blood.
Wait, so she could smell blood? Sharks and mer must have been even more closely related than she’d known. Were they, in fact, something like weresharks?
Nyi Rara scoffed in her mind. I will lock you in a dark corner, host.
No. Namaka didn’t think Nyi Rara had nearly that much strength, or she would have done so already. A queen didn’t give in to threats, much less idle ones.
Ake frowned, then took off with renewed speed, darting past the other soldiers. Namaka followed, wending her way among scowling, cursing, or muttering mer. The blood scent had carried a long way, and they had to swim perhaps another half league before they saw its source.