Heirs of Mana Omnibus

by Matt Larkin

  That was a yes. Namaka darted several paces away, then spun back to look at Punga. “We’ll speak of this more.”

  She bolted into the throne room as Ake and Aiaru were discussing the massacre, or its aftermath. A stir went up among the gathered mer, but none dared interfere with her.

  “Uh.” She paused to clear her throat. The whole plan had seemed more refined before she tried to put it into words. “My Queen.” Now would be a good time for Nyi Rara to take over and follow proper mer protocol. She twirled her tail, although the gesture felt clumsy compared to the elegance with which Nyi Rara performed it. “Ake has informed you about the battle.”

  Aiaru raised an eyebrow, then reclined her head into one of her palms.

  Great. The almighty mermaid queen probably knew it was some stupid human—mostly human—host talking and not Princess Nyi Rara. “I just spoke to the he‘e ambassador and he sympathizes with our losses.”

  The queen did not speak for a moment. When she did, all heads turned to her. “The he‘e care only about the he‘e.”

  “They have political interests, My Queen, I’m certain. What if we could offer them something they wanted? They seem like they feel strongly bound by their treaties and duties and so forth. So, let’s give them a new one. After what happened, we obviously need some allies against Hiyoya.”

  Aiaru rubbed the scales on her face for a moment. “Distasteful as an alliance with mortals might be, still we tried that. They are intractable, their motives inscrutable. Besides which, you seem to forget it was your ‘ohana that lost control of the he‘e during the Rogo War. Do you suggest to repeat the mistake?”

  Namaka stiffened, not really certain what Aiaru meant.

  “What does the Princess suggest we offer the he‘e in return for such … assistance?” The queen said the last word like it left a bad taste in her mouth. Hadn’t Ake said something similar about having to even have the ambassador stay in Hiyoya?

  “What does pride matter if you’re all dead?” Namaka snapped. Aiaru’s eyebrow rose and Ake failed to quite stifle a gasp. She was probably swimming in dangerous waters. But she had to press on. “What would you be willing to part with to win this war?”

  She could feel Nyi Rara shifting around in the back of her mind, growing irate. Rather than resist, Namaka actively reached out to Nyi Rara and pulled her to the forefront of her mind, a sensation like an enormous yawn.

  “My Queen,” Nyi Rara said. “I shall take my request to consult the Urchin to Ukupanipo. If they allow it, perhaps we can further discuss the he‘e issue.”

  Aiaru sneered at her as if she were a fool child.

  We are fool children, aren’t we? So at war with ourselves we can neither act nor speak with sense. You must submit.

  No. Namaka would never submit to Nyi Rara. The only option she would leave the mermaid would be to submit to her, or agree to a partnership. Namaka would be a full, ranking member of Dakuwaqa ‘Ohana, or she would undermine Nyi Rara’s attempts to restore her family’s standing.

  “Go then. Do you as you wish.”

  Nyi Rara twirled her tail and fled the chamber.

  I tire of your threats and insolence, mortal.

  Oh? Then let the mermaid do something about them. Or else, let her swallow her pride and learn to work with … with someone else.

  Do you speak of me, or yourself?

  Damn Nyi Rara. Damn her for getting into Namaka’s head. Namaka forced her thoughts to quiet, unwilling to let this conversation go on a moment more. Nyi Rara snickered as she swam.

  It confirmed Namaka’s fears. Sooner or later, she and this spirit would wind up destroying one another. No matter the outcome, Namaka would lose another world.

  15

  Days Gone

  Namaka found Aukele on her private beach, well beyond the lagoon. This place was reserved for the ali‘i of Uluka‘a, but the man ranked high enough it didn’t technically break tabu for him to come here. Not that she didn’t have enough reason to consider having him killed. Still, she couldn’t quite bring herself to take that step.

  Was it only because Milolii supported him? She could hardly turn against her old nursemaid. Or was there something more? His story had a compelling pull to it, inevitable, like the tides, tugging at her mind. Did Milolii truly intend her to take the man as another husband?

  Namaka frowned, making her way over to Aukele, who sat beside two surfboards.

  “They tell me you are the finest surfing champion in generations,” he said when she paused before him, hands on her hips.

  Namaka shrugged. What was the point in false modesty? Even without controlling the sea, she was better than any of her peers. With her power …

  “How about a challenge?” Aukele said after a moment. “If I win, you marry me and tell me where to find the Waters of Life.”

  “If you win …” She could only scoff at that, shaking her head. “Uh huh. And if I win, what shall I get?”

  “Uh … I’ll marry you?”

  Don’t let him see her smile at such foolery. “When I win, you’ll swear fealty to me. And then you’ll tell me everything Milolii told you about the Waters, about Maui, all of it.”

  Aukele hesitated. Did he realize he had no chance of winning? But then, why would he provoke the contest in the first place? “Where should we launch?”

  Namaka tossed aside her feather cloak and skirt, then stooped to grab a board. “Follow me.”

  “I traveled far to reach here, you know,” Aukele said, as they walked toward Namaka’s chosen launch point. For herself, she might have chosen a rougher spot, but utterly humiliating him, even getting him killed—that hardly served her purpose. So, a place with medium waves.

  “Yes,” she said. “I have an idea where Sawaiki is.”

  “An idea of the distance, and actually crossing it, those are two different things. And I can almost feel your curiosity to know what lies in between.”

  “The ocean.”

  “Yes, and Mu, Hiyoya, and the He‘e Aupuni.”

  She faltered, casting a glance in his direction. The he‘e disdained any contact with surface dwellers from all she had heard. She’d never even seen one of the octopus people. Legends claimed they may have even predated the coming of the Worldsea. “You’ve spoken to them?”

  “Hmmm. I have. They are like mer in some respects, I suppose. Mer are aloof, almost unfathomable in their motives. And he‘e, well … they are perhaps even more so. Cunning, and alien in their sense of morality. If they even have one.”

  It was hard to know quite what that meant, and Namaka walked in silence until they neared the right spot.

  “I’m truly curious to see your art at this.”

  Namaka cast an irate glance at him. “Surfing is more than an art. Wave sliding is worship. Tribute to Kanaloa, to the ocean itself. In making the tribute, we become one with the ocean, touch its power and give in to awe, and thus, purify ourselves.” She smiled. “Kāhuna send the ill, the wounded, for days of surfing to cleanse their souls.” Maybe it would cleanse them both. Maybe, with this worship, she might see the truth and know what the akua willed of her.

  This wasn’t her favored board. That board, she’d carved herself from a koi tree, one she’d dug from the ground herself after hunting all over Uluka‘a to find the perfect one. That one, called an alaia board, was one of the hardest kinds to master. Sleek, thin, graceful, and just heavy enough. Whether through intent or ignorance, Aukele had chosen far simpler boards for the two of them today.

  She jumped into the sea, then climbed onto her board and began to paddle it out to catch a wave. After a moment, she stood on her board as a wave approached, turned with it, and let herself glide, whooping with delight.

  Out here, she was a goddess. She truly was the Sea Queen. Arms wide, she rode the ocean itself, becoming one with it, reveling in the spray as it tickled her legs, drinking in the power as she all but flew. As the wave broke, she turned, sliding over it. By the time she faced him, Aukele was in the
water with his board.

  The man clearly knew what he was about, holding his balance with practiced ease and twisting this way and that, sliding over the waves. It was good. Namaka might have felt bad about outdoing him if he truly was a rank novice.

  Instead, she allowed him a moment to shine, then turned, heading for the stronger waves. The fierce wind streamed her hair behind her, tearing all cares from her shoulders, and letting her shriek with laughter. She danced atop the waves like a bird, feeling almost as though she but brushed the waters. Time and thought melted away, and next she knew, Aukele was just sitting on his board, staring appreciatively at her.

  Finally, she turned about and met him back on the beach, where they both settled down on the warm sands.

  “We can try again tomorrow,” she said when they lay on the beach. “I mean, if you you want to.”

  Aukele grunted, then turned a beaming smile toward her.

  “You’re cheery for someone who just lost.”

  The man rolled over onto his knees and placed his head on the ground. “My Queen.”

  Namaka smiled a little and eased his head up with her fingertips. “And the second part of your wager … Tell me everything Milolii told you about Maui and his quest.”

  Aukele settled back on his haunches and folded his legs beneath him. “To protect man, Maui stole fire from the underworld. He was the first firewalker, called the Firebringer. But it wasn’t enough. Some time after defeating the taniwha Toona, and after defeating the sun akua, Maui became obsessed with bringing immortality to mankind. Some say, it was because he had lost his wife, or his children, or both. Either way, he left his followers, the pyromancers to whom he had taught his arts, and began a search for the Waters of Life.

  “They say that Kāne had created three springs, one for himself, one for Lono, and one for Kū, and that from each spring bubbled Waters of Life that could heal any injury, cure any illness, and extend human life almost indefinitely. These springs were hidden, and perhaps seeking one was why Maui first found Sawaiki.

  “Regardless, there is more to the legend … for Kanaloa, god of the deep, he found and claimed the springs. And Maui fought the great god … and he lost. And thus, mankind remained doomed to a mortal life and our patron was taken from us. We are left with the gifts he gave us, though, the firewalkers among the kāhuna chiefly among them.”

  Namaka folded her arms over her chest. Some said Kanaloa was the one god even Kāne feared.

  “But,” Aukele said after a moment, “I have reason to believe one such spring lies here, in Uluka‘a. And that spring could save Kana.”

  Namaka lay there for a time, letting the sun warm her. Finally, she sighed. “Kāne created these islands, or so the kāhuna tell it. After he flooded the Earth, he split a giant calabash in the sky and its seeds fell down to Earth and became the islands. And within the islands … yes, there was a spring. I do not know if it remains, or if Kanaloa truly claimed it from Kāne. Just that my father warned my sister and me not to go looking for it. My sister, you see, is quite the disciple of Maui.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  Namaka sighed. “Because if anyone can help us find the Waters for your nephew, it’d be Pele.”

  “Y-you’ll help me?”

  Namaka quirked a smile, unable to believe she was going to do this. “Those Waters, everything on this island, is my birthright, though. I cannot share it with any save my kin. Which means, I suppose I shall have to take you as a husband after all.” The words sent a pleasant warmth running through her chest. It wasn’t like her other husbands would dare raise any objection. She could do as she liked …

  Before she could change her mind, she rolled overtop him, straddling his hips, one hand on the back of his neck. The other massaging his cock. It didn’t take long to wake it up. And then he was pushing inside her and she was kissing his face.

  She woke beneath the moon, her head on Aukele’s chest, feeling the steady beating of his heart. He slept now, no doubt exhausted. He had not lied about having increased stamina, though. The thought brought the quirk of a smile to her lips, and she rolled onto her back, staring at the night sky.

  Was she doing the right thing with him?

  Her father—whom she had not seen in almost seventy years—had warned her off the Waters. But Aukele’s need was real, and Namaka had been the one to effectively slay his nephew. Yes … Aukele had brought about that fate himself by coming here with hostile intent.

  True.

  Yet, she couldn’t let herself hate him. When he spoke, when he told his tales, all she wanted in the world was for him to keep speaking thus and entertain her for hours on end. Was that part of his gift as a kupua? Or was Namaka simply giving in to lust? She was no child to let herself be swept away with silly concepts like love. Men and women needed each other, for certain, but that was no reason to lose one’s mind.

  And still … she wanted to help him. Wanted to see him happy, grateful. Marrying him hardly seemed a burden, and with another kupua, she might sire a powerful child. Advantages, all …

  Yes. She’d do it. And then, together, they’d save Kana.

  Namaka paused to grab some plumerias along the way down to the shore. They smelled like sweet coconuts, making them perfect for adornment in a lei. These she gave to a slave for weaving. Her own lei, the one for Aukele, was woven from maile, and held now by Leapua in trust.

  When the sun began to set, the ceremony would begin, and she’d claim Aukele as her third husband. The thought sent a slight titter of a thrill down her spine.

  And at her age! Feeling like a mere girl again!

  But life was worth celebrating, joy was worth claiming wherever one could. Even a kupua did not live forever, and in death waited the darkness of Pō and perhaps the depredations of Manua or even the frozen underworld of Milu.

  Life was for the living.

  Leapua met her on the bay’s edge, by the shore. The sea called to Namaka, of course, and she fought down the urge to whip it into spirals and let it dance with her own soaring emotions. Hiyoya’s damn complaints …

  “Your sisters arrived not long ago,” Leapua said when Namaka drew beside her.

  “Then where are they?”

  “Napping in the palace. Fatigued from the journey across the island.”

  Namaka allowed herself a slight frown. Perhaps it was too much to ask to expect her sisters to get caught up in the excitement, especially for Namaka’s third wedding. Still. “Wake them. I’d like to see both of them before the ceremony.”

  It was a shame Kapo couldn’t be here, but, of course, Namaka knew she’d never likely see that sister again. Sawaiki was far across the Worldsea and well beyond Namaka’s reach.

  The kahuna nodded at her, and headed back toward the palace, while Namaka sat on the edge of the surf, listening to its song.

  Little Hi‘iaka raced ahead of Pele, kicking up a trail of sand as she ran toward Namaka. The girl—what was she now, twelve? Thirteen?—ran and leapt up tackling Namaka. It was all she could do to keep her feet, and, laughing, she patted her little sister on the back. “All right, all right. I missed you, too.”

  Pele had raised Hi‘iaka from the day their mother had dropped the girl in their laps. As an egg, no less, for which Mother had offered no explanation. Pele had pled for the chance to raise the child—urged by Lonomakua, Namaka always assumed—and Namaka had seen little reason to object.

  According to the story, Pele had actually hatched Hi‘iaka in the crater of her volcano, keeping the egg blisteringly warm until that point. After the fact, Namaka had often wondered if Pele had done so in the hopes of creating a fire-attuned kupua like herself. In the end, Pele’s motives mattered little, and Hi‘iaka had become a daughter to her more than to her real mother.

  Namaka could feel the power in the girl, a current of energy, an embrace of so much mana it felt a little like holding a storm. She kissed the top of Hi‘iaka’s head. “Have you been practicing your surfing?”

>   “Mmm, hmm. I’m better than Pele now.”

  “No,” Pele said, approaching from down the beach, “she most certainly is not.”

  No one was better than Pele at anything. To suggest otherwise might get any save a royal served as a sacrifice to the volcano. Little matter, though. Everyone had their pride, after all.

  “I’m glad you both made it,” Namaka said.

  Pele’s shrug was her only answer. As if to say, she came for the wedding, but might just as easily not have. Perhaps that was true. They were not … close. Had not been in a long, long time. Not since …

  Namaka forced the thoughts away. Weddings, like life, were for the living.

  “Did Hiyoya ask additional tribute from your side of the island, as well?” Pele asked.

  Namaka frowned at the sudden turn in the conversation. Not really what she’d have wanted to talk about when seeing her sisters for the first time in several years. “They did. Their war with Mu has clearly grown more heated, though Milu damn me if I can even guess which side is winning. No surface dweller seems to much understand mer politics.”

  Given that most of coastal Uluka‘a fell into Namaka’s domain, she assumed the mer asked a far lesser tribute from Pele. Her sister could have refused entirely, but doing so would have made things complicated for Namaka. Perhaps Pele had thought of that and thus spared her.

  “I don’t suppose you’ve seen mother or father of late?” Namaka asked.

  Pele shook her head. “Not since she brought Hi‘iaka.”

  Ah, well. Perhaps they were truly gone from the world. Namaka couldn’t say she even truly missed her father, though her mother had shown … well, interest in the sisters, from time to time. Namaka remembered fondly, as a child, when Haumea would visit Milolii’s cave and check on progress. Each time—at first—Namaka had entertained a vain hope her mother would take her away from the mo‘o and back to a normal life. Of course, that would not have worked for anyone, least of all Namaka herself.