by Matt Larkin
The merman quirked a smile. “Hmmm. We know they’ve wanted Red Coral Reef for some time. It was the original reason Punga came here. The queen refused, of course. Red Coral Reef teems with food, besides providing a strategic location from which to protect our borders.”
“But things grow more desperate now than ever.”
“Indeed. Which is why the heart of the matter seems to bring us back to finding a Chintamani.”
He knew.
What?
Namaka was more than half certain that Daucina knew Nyi Rara had possessed a pearl and lost it to Hiyoya. The merman was toying with her, luring her into making a mistake and revealing too much.
How would he know?
Namaka couldn’t even guess, but this mer clearly knew a lot more than he was saying, of that she was certain.
He’s got his tail wrapped around every ‘ohana in Mu. He always knows more than he says. It does not mean he knows about the Chintamani.
But Namaka could hear the doubt in Nyi Rara’s voice. “That’s out of our reach for now. I’ll help you search as I agreed, but you have to give me somewhere to start. Until then, I have to see about allying ourselves with the he‘e.”
“IF YOU KEEP LOSING battles you won’t have any borders to protect.”
The queen glowered at Namaka. She should have probably chosen more diplomatic words. Then again, Nyi Rara had used up all Namaka’s patience for the mer and then some. In selfish pride and fear she had lashed out against Namaka in a way she wasn’t sure she could ever forgive.
Aiaru sighed, then twirled water around her fingers a moment. “If you are so very convinced of that, then so be it, princess. Tell Ambassador Punga we will grant him Red Coral Reef in exchange for aid in defeating Hiyoya. And not a league more than that of my sea. We cannot allow concerns with Hiyoya to weaken us to the point where Ryūgō-jō or Lemuria try to claim our sea. Empress Benzaiten has already sent us overtures of a so-called alliance.” Aiaru’s glower showed what she thought of that. “Go, bring us these allies you seem so certain are going to save us all.”
The queen waved her hand at the archway and a none-too-gentle current ushered Namaka from the throne room. She really had to learn to choose her words with more care, especially down here, talking to a spirit who was probably old as the sea itself. It didn’t help that Dakuwaqa ‘Ohana had thought Namaka was the one who was going to save them all. That her power would help end this.
Well then, she would.
Even after …? Now, the mermaid sounded almost timid in her mind.
Nyi Rara could go to Lua-o-Milu. But Namaka would still try to save the rest of Mu.
Namaka swam back to the hallway where she had last seen Punga, but found no sign of him. “Ambassador?”
“He’s in his grotto for the day,” a mermaid guard said.
He‘e also prefer the night.
Of course they did.
“Show me the way. Please.”
The mermaid bowed and led her around several twists of the palace, finally gesturing toward a circular chamber. Sand from the seafloor dusted the ground and algae grew along the walls. Unlike most of the other chambers, no glowing orb of light illuminated the room, leaving it in such darkness she could barely see, even with mer eyes.
“Ambassador?”
Something shifted in the shadows. “Come in, princess.”
Actually, Namaka would have preferred he come out of his creepy little grotto, but she had probably offended enough people today. She swam in—a few feet—then scanned the room, still uncertain where the he‘e was.
“What can I do for you?” The voice sounded from the back of the room, somewhere on the floor. The he‘e must have better night vision than even a mermaid. Maybe they liked the dark. He wasn’t trying to be creepy, just comfortable. Or at least it was easier to tell herself that.
“I bring an offer from Queen Aiaru for a new treaty. One in which you agree to offer military aid against Hiyoya.”
“To join the losing side in war offers one little benefit to outweigh the prodigious risk. To entwine one’s arms in a mer battle leaves one in treacherous waters. What could prompt one to such a decision, one must wonder.”
“Mu will cede you Red Coral Reef.”
The he‘e hesitated, or squirmed at least. If she could see his face—if he had a damn face—maybe she could make out what he was thinking. “One wonders what now prompts Queen Aiaru to overcome recalcitrance that so bound her in years before.”
Namaka frowned, trying to untangle the he‘e’s words. “We are very serious about building a strong relationship with your people.”
“A weighty commitment is asked, but with half a heart …”
Namaka sighed, not really in the mood for these games. “You know you want the reef. And you said you hate seeing our people suffer. Do the right thing and help us.”
A strange rumble echoed through the room, like a miniature undersea quake. Was the creature laughing? “The right thing? Right and wrong are perceptions, perspectives, reflections, defined by the speaker. Shall our kind do the right thing? We always do right by the ends we need. And for you, this very night King Kanaloa shall receive word of your plight. If one ends a war, one expects ample gratitude toward Aupuni, above and beyond the terms of mere politics.”
The thought of actually seeing Kanaloa, whom she had long venerated, sacrificed to, and feared, left a knot in Namaka’s stomach.
“Mahalo, Ambassador.”
Namaka swam from his chamber and back to the grotto they had granted her in the Dakuwaqa Estate, relishing the intricate designs on the walls and the flicker of light through the water. It was beautiful down here, and part of her truly wanted to stay in this life.
But in trying to save Mu …
You finally remember you have mortals you care for.
Yes. She had left something behind. In her grief, she had convinced herself nothing remained for her, but … There was Upoho and Leapua, at least, and Milolii, of course. Always Milolii. Besides, hearing of Kanaloa served as a reminder of Namaka’s vow to sacrifice Pele to the god. Would the he‘e god-king know of her vow? Would he hold her to it?
We don’t know how much power Kanaloa truly has. He did not show himself during the Rogo War, but since then, the he‘e have spoken as if he lives among them.
If she helped solve Mu’s problem, would Nyi Rara let her return to Sawaiki?
I still need a body.
Couldn’t they share?
You were not keen on my sharing it earlier.
That wasn’t sharing! Nyi Rara had taken something to prove she could. But, before that … Nyi Rara had … completed her in a way she had always been lacking.
I …
But she still had to fix it all, to protect her ‘ohana.
And to do that, she would have to return to the surface.
NAMAKA HAD JUST SETTLED down for what was left of the daylight when Ake entered her grotto. Looking at him was a reminder of Nyi Rara’s betrayal, no matter how many times Namaka told herself Ake had no idea about the war inside her.
All she wanted to do was shut her eyes and dive back into the dream the Urchin had showed her.
“Commander.”
“Princess Nyi Rara.”
“It’s Namaka.”
Without warning, Namaka’s insides constricted and she felt herself forced down, control taken from her.
He wishes to speak to me, mortal.
Namaka glowered inside herself. Had they not just agreed to a partnership?
“I’m here, Ake.”
The merman swam a little closer. Close enough Namaka could see the twitching reached his eyes, too. “Why are you doing this?”
“Allowing the human some freedom?”
“Yes, why?”
Namaka felt her body sigh—unnerving given the subtle gesture had not originated in her own mind. “At first this woman simply intrigued me. After that … the Urchin showed me things.”
Yes. It had told her to make Namaka a
partner. And Nyi Rara had responded by treating Namaka like …
Be still. Be silent.
At Nyi Rara’s words, Ake’s face had creased, the nictitating membrane over his eyes fluttering rapidly. “Are you certain you know what you’re doing?”
Nyi Rara made no immediate answer. Oh. She wasn’t certain at all.
A flush of irritation struck her, but Nyi Rara made no other answer.
“You were missed, Princess. Now you’re finally back … I just hope you’re not making a mistake with this human. The people would not understand.”
Nyi Rara nodded. “Mahalo, Commander. I should rest.”
As soon as he left, Nyi Rara released her, and Namaka regained control. “What was that?”
Even if I agree to this partnership you have asked for, there will be times when one or the other of us must present dominance. I have granted you great leeway already.
Because Nyi Rara didn’t have the strength to maintain control all of the time.
Insolent—
“Oh, give it over. We both know it’s true. You wronged me.”
I …
“You’ve never in your life apologized, have you?”
I …
A sudden thought hit Namaka. Never apologized … not for anything that really mattered. Never admitted the transgressions of her pride. Oh, Lua-o-Milu.
Are we so much alike, then?
Namaka shuddered. Could she let it all go? Could she forgive Nyi Rara? Pele? Herself? “Do we have an accord?” Her voice trembled.
Nyi Rara sighed in her mind. Save Mu … save the Muian Sea. And then I will help you repair the damage you’ve done on the surface. We can fix this all.
Namaka managed a weak smile. At last, Nyi Rara was truly with her. A partnership.
A hope to make things right, at long last.
23
Days Gone
MOELA LAY his head in her lap as Namaka sat on some mountainside, looking out at the sea so very far below. Even up here, she could feel it calling to her.
Her dog whimpered without rising, and she ran her fingers over his ears, then stroked his neck. Though he didn’t make a sound, she could feel the tension flowing out of him. If only all worries could be so easily relieved.
“You don’t believe it, right?” She sighed and stroked his head. Oh, ‘aumākua damn it all, this could not be happening. Aukele had wanted to show Kana Uluka‘a, and Namaka—a fool?—had encouraged the tour. Now, they were gone sometimes months at a time, and so often to Pele’s court.
Moela stirred beneath her, perhaps sensing her distress. Or someone else—a moment later, she heard light footfalls climbing up the slope. Namaka lifted her head to watch Upoho hiking toward her.
The wererat huffed and panted emphatically once he stood beside her. Given his Otherworldly endurance, that had to be just for show, though he had managed a slight sheen of sweat.
“How did you find me?”
“A rat’s snout never lies.”
Namaka nodded, then stared out at the sea.
After a moment, Upoho sank down beside her. “So.”
No use delaying. Namaka sat up. “Well? Were they together?”
Upoho grimaced. “Listen, I don’t think it’s really—”
“Answer the godsdamned question.”
“Yeah.”
Namaka winced. “You saw them?”
“No. But their scents were all over each other and I … uh … heard them. Good ears, you know.”
A surge of tides raced inside Namaka’s chest, crushing her. Even far below, the sea responded, whipping into a frenzy. The sea answered her fear and pain and rage. The ocean lashed one way and another, like some god shook it in a mighty gourd.
Upoho sighed, gazing over the cliff at the now turbulent sea. “These things happen.”
“No.”
“My Queen—”
“My sister deliberately seduced my husband as a direct affront to my authority.”
The wererat grunted. “Sometimes two people just get the urge to—”
Namaka huffed. “Send for them. For the both of them.” The wererat had no idea what she was going through, no idea of the pressure she felt. Maybe because he didn’t understand responsibility—he never had. He did what he wanted, when he wanted, and gave no thought to the cost of his actions. What would it be like to live like that? A lot like never growing up, she supposed.
A wererat without royal blood might be afforded such luxuries.
But Namaka was a queen. To a queen, propriety meant image, and image meant authority.
“You really think bringing them here is a good idea?” Upoho asked. “Maybe just let this smooth over a bit—”
Her glare silenced the man, and, with a shake of his head, he rose and finally nodded. He’d do as she’d bidden.
PELE ARRIVED with the better part of her court. Warriors and kāhuna, slaves, retainers, and the rest of her retinue. And Aukele. He and Kana came in her company, as if Namaka had needed further confirmation of their affair.
The other queen walked at the head of the procession, feather cloak streaming behind her, shoulders thrown back in haughty arrogance.
Namaka stood waiting, some distance from the lagoon, in the village’s heart, watching her sister’s approach. Watching the arrogance of that stride, without a hint of penitence. Did she not know why Namaka had summoned her? Did she still not realize she had violated tabus and Namaka was within her rights to claim her very life?
No. Pele cared for no one save herself. She did whatever she damn well pleased and thought nothing of the consequences. Well, this time, there would be consequences. This time, she would pay a price.
Only a deliberate force of will kept Namaka’s hands at her side as Pele drew near. She could feel Leapua just behind her, and the kahuna’s support kept her strong.
“Control your temper,” the kahuna whispered into Namaka’s ear, and Namaka nodded.
Finally, her sister paused before her and cocked her head to the side, as if to say, “Here I am. Now what?”
“Do you know why I’ve summoned you?” Namaka asked.
Pele’s mouth turned down a little. “Summoned?”
Milu damn her. Namaka had tried, had even dared to believe that in working together to find the Waters of Life, they might have bridged the gulf that had risen between them so long ago. But Pele remained unwilling to meet her halfway.
“You, little sister, have betrayed me. You seduced my husband, and in so doing have both broken tabu and committed treason against Uluka‘a.”
Pele actually rolled her eyes. “It’s not like you never take a man outside of marriage, Namaka.”
“I don’t take your husbands!”
Pele snorted. “Because I’m not married.”
“And if you were, I would never in a thousand years have entertained the idea of taking one of them to my bed. But you truly respect nothing and no one.”
“Namaka—” Aukele began, standing behind Pele.
She held up a hand. “I’ll deal with you later.” She turned her gaze back on Pele. “You, though, must answer first for what you’ve done.”
Pele spread her hands. “Fine. I lay with your husband. Maybe next time try harder to keep him satisfied.”
Namaka clenched her jaw, biting back her response. She would not allow the other queen to draw her into petty insults. No, this was too dire an affront to her authority. If she did not take decisive action here, everyone would think her weak. “You will lower your face to the sand and beg my forgiveness. On your knees, you shall crawl to me, sister, and seek absolution for what you’ve done.”
Pele folded her arms over her chest. “No.”
“No?” Namaka took a step toward her sister. “I ask you again, Pele, beg forgiveness and—”
“I beg nothing! You think to threaten me? You think because you are the elder, you are my superior?” The woman sneered, backing away. Toward her warriors. “It is you who insults me. Perhaps I ought to simp
ly marry the man myself.”
Oh, no … This would not stand. Did the ‘aumākua watch this affront? The people of the village surely did.
“Seize her,” Namaka said to her warriors.
At once, they surged forward, charging at Pele. The woman’s own warriors raced in to meet Namaka’s, shouting war cries, beating their chests, and waving axes and spears.
Pele, for her part, turned to the sea, as if she thought to escape on a canoe. Namaka sneered, edging around the war party. Surely her sister cool not be fool enough to believe the sea would offer her refuge in this fight.
Already, the warriors had met. A wet thwack as an axe split a skull. Screams, as spears pierced chests. Thrown javelins flew through the air and were caught or dodged. Most of them. Others hit home and men fell.
More screams, as the sands ran red. Men’s bowels emptied on the beach. Bodies and pieces of bodies flopping about like dead fish.
Namaka continued to circle. After this bloodshed, she had no choice but to offer Pele up as a sacrifice to Kanaloa. Her sister had gone too far.
Pele dropped to one knee, digging fingers into the sand, staring out over the lagoon.
The disturbance in the sea hit Namaka like a physical blow, and she stumbled down to her knees herself. A boiling rose beneath the surface, a trembling that shot through her awareness as violently as an earthquake. And it still continued. A gut-wrenching writhing of the ocean floor that made the battle seem a mere annoyance.
She struggled to her feet and then, a sudden, violent eruption from the seafloor sent her stumbling back to the ground—not just from the quake on the island, but from a shaking in her soul. An undersea volcano had erupted.
Waves swept over the boardwalk and crushed it, tore it to splinters and driftwood, smashing half the houses in the village. The wave broke over them, leaving nothing but merciless sea in its wake, stealing homes and lives and hope.
Namaka screamed, her terror whipping the sea into further frenzy. Even where she knelt, two hundred feet from the water’s edge, sea spray fell over her. It slammed into the shore and swept up villagers and Pele’s men, carried off canoes and fishing nets and dogs who could not run fast enough. And she could not stop screaming. Waves tossed canoes about like toys.