by Matt Larkin
She shook her head, but still the question of what her mother and father had wanted back then plagued her. The thought of them, of all people, defiling her sacred mountain tasted bitter beyond words. Sometimes, she used her swimming to clear her head. Often, she formed sleds of ice to race down the slopes. The rush helped her regain her focus. Brief distractions before she returned to her real priorities—her studies, always.
After donning her clothes, she entered another chamber in her sanctuary. This one contained her observations and recovered lore relating to astrology. She should study up for tonight, after all. There would be a minor celestial convergence and, if she was careful, she might glean further secrets of the universe from it.
After an hour of staring at the recreation of constellations in her astral observatory, something began to tug at her mind. A disruption in the natural flow of Mauna Kea.
Someone else was climbing her mountain, a third visitor this month. A male, by the size and gait. By Milu’s frozen underworld, how many visitors was she going to get? This many people usually only dared climb her slopes during the biannual challenge for her love. And … no. No, it wasn’t time for that. Not yet. It did have a tendency to sneak up on her, but if that had been today there would have been a dozen men climbing toward her. They would race each other, some might fight, even kill one another for the chance to know her embrace and siphon off the barest hint of her mana.
It was a chance to prove their merit and worthiness, to forge a new destiny and become more than a mere fisherman or hunter or craftsman. From her embrace arose kāhuna and chiefs. Of course, some of those also died on the way back down the mountain, but she didn’t interfere. A moment of passion, a brief diversion from her true work—all she could afford to grant supplicants. Even if it was for their benefit, the people of Vai‘i could not begin to fathom the breadth of her true calling, of the secrets and forgotten lore she worked to uncover on the mountain peak.
Clucking her tongue, Poli‘ahu strolled outside, climbing down the slope with practiced ease. She could now control ice and snow with a small infusion of mana—allowing her to surf on snow—and glided down to a lower slope, meeting the man halfway.
So, what did this interloper want?
On a plateau, she awaited his ascent, imagining the shape of him by the size of his tread.
She passed the time by twitching her finger, shaping ice into a banyan that spread out over the slope in frozen glory. Often, she’d considered making an entire forest up here. Of course, she always wound up destroying her creations when they failed to seem entirely lifelike. Such things had to be perfect to be worth doing.
So intent was she on her work, a presence caught her by surprise. A chill, a drop in temperature despite the afternoon sunlight overhead. Though the shadows no doubt offered some protection, it was still odd to see the Mist spirit willingly venture out in daylight. Poli‘ahu embraced the Sight and, indeed, Waiau had stood beneath the shade of the banyan.
“Sorry, I was … lost in thought.”
“Obviously.”
“You’re here about the man climbing up?”
“Why waste your time with this tree?”
Poli‘ahu shrugged. “Just practicing the Art of Mist, honestly. Creation of these ice sculptures helps calm my mind.”
“Meet the man,” Waiau said.
She met all her supplicants—those who reached her—but the snow sisters rarely seemed to care, sometimes even urged her to ignore them, though she never did. “Why him?”
“There is … power in him. Opportunity.”
Poli‘ahu pursed her lips. Opportunity? “All right. I will. Happy?”
The spirit gave no answer save the hint of a smile as her form flickered away.
Poli‘ahu rubbed her eyes. If this man was so worthy, let him come find her. In front of the banyan, Poli‘ahu spread her hands wide, shaping snow and ice beside her. She formed the ice into a dome fifteen feet high, with a person-sized opening cut into one side. She could not really be content with sloppy work, though. Lacing together her fingers, she shaped a roof like that of any village hut. Her twitching fingers shaved off ice until the top perfectly resembled the grass roofs used far below the mountains.
The effort left her slightly unsteady on her feet, and Poli‘ahu stumbled into the hut and lay on the ground.
She needed the time to think, to decide her next move. For the moment, her guardians seemed to think she needed to meet her latest supplicant, for whatever reason. What opportunity, exactly, could a man possible offer her? A sorcerer, maybe, she could bed and gain new insights. But most men had too little mana to bring her any substantial change in awareness, though she imagined the experience must be transformative for them.
After an hour’s rest, Poli‘ahu returned outside and began shaping up another tree. She was putting the last flourish on the upper branches of a koa tree—just because Waiau didn’t care about the trees didn’t mean Poli‘ahu wanted to leave the forest unfinished—when the man reached her. As he panted, she could feel his hot breath on the chilly air. Poli‘ahu drifted in his direction, watching as he stood, hands on knees, trying to catch his breath. He bore a crown of bright red feathers on his head, like the mark of a great chief, and he wore a cloak of feathers as well.
“Who are you?” she asked, drifting closer.
He started at her approach, then drew himself up proudly. “I am Aiwohi, King of Wailua in Kaua‘i, and the cousin of the kings of Kahiki.”
One of the migrants. She snapped her fingers in sudden recognition, the gesture sending a cascade of snowflakes swirling around her. Yes. She’d heard of him from courtiers in Hilo. He and his kin had taken over the better part of Kaua‘i and Mau‘i as well.
Waiau had said the man had power. Of course he did … some among the Kahikian dynasty were kupua, as well. Yes, she’d heard of him, and his cousin, the sorceress Uli, whom Lilinoe had warned her of. And the kupua had sailed across the archipelago and climbed Mauna Kea to reach her.
A kupua like that might pose a threat … But the sun was almost setting, and Waiau surely lurked nearby. Near enough to warn Lilinoe if this Aiwohi tried anything. But could Lilinoe reach her in time? Poli‘ahu had never fought another kupua.
“What is it you want?” she asked after a moment.
“Why, you, of course.”
“Me?”
“Word of your beauty has spread across all Sawaiki, and now I see the claim is not exaggerated. In my life I have known many beautiful women, but none like you. Not hardly like you.”
Poli‘ahu laughed, then turned away. He couldn’t be serious. A man courted a queen like her for one reason only. Yes, others had called her beautiful, and she had begun to assume they must speak the truth, though she’d seen her own face only in the distorted reflections of ice and water. Still, it was flattering. She turned back to face him, smiling.
“Look, you came all this way. So, if you want to make love, that’s fine with me.” She couldn’t believe Waiau’s plan for Aiwohi involved Poli‘ahu finding a little recreation with him, but neither did she see any reason not to.
“I truly do, but not only once. Yours is the greatest beauty in all the lands. I would make you mine.”
Poli‘ahu couldn’t quite form a response to that. He was quite a flatterer, but his words seemed so sincere it made her flush. Was it even possible he was serious, that he truly found her more desirable than his other lovers? Or was this about her throne?
She waved the thought away. “You want me to come and stay with you? I’m not going to be one more girl for you to show off to your people. I am the Queen of Hilo.” His desire might have been flattering, but his presumption was not. She took a step toward him, close enough to press a finger to his chest and suffuse it with icy cold.
Aiwohi groaned in discomfort but didn’t pull away.
“You know I could freeze your heart solid inside your chest?”
“And you’d still be lusting after me.”
There might have been the smallest truth in that. But she was not about to be a third or fourth woman to him or any other king. She folded her arms across her chest. “You are so devoted? Prove it. Cast aside your other women.”
The chief rocked back on his heels, jaw working for a moment, before his shoulders slumped. “That’s truly what you want?”
“If you want me to consider coming with you.”
“Fine. I will. But you must come with me. Think of it … our dynasties united together. The two of us can bring peace to all Sawaiki. Every other member of the ali‘i will bow before us. And just consider how glorious a child born of our union might be.”
Peace.
There was, had been, trouble brewing between the Kahikians and the natives for some time. In Hilo, Poli‘ahu had recruited some additional warriors to protect their territories and keep the Kahikians from encroaching. She had not even begun to consider the possibility of a marriage alliance to solve the problem.
Nor actually conceiving a child.
She always took precautions against children. Her sorcery made that easy enough. If she bore a child to another kupua, surely that child itself would become kupua. A child of gods, unifying both dynasties forever. A kupua king who might rule for two centuries or more.
This was what Waiau meant by opportunity? Her marriage to Aiwohi could save all Sawaiki. Maybe the akua had known what the chief intended—known, and wanted to see her bear a child.
And why not? Now that she considered it, so much could be learned from it. A child born from her line would be special, have an enormous amount to teach her. That must have been the snow sisters’ next plan for her. It might have been nice had they let her in on it before she stood face to face with the man they expected to father her children. Well, if they wanted her to do this, that was her reason for agreeing. It wasn’t because of the man … it wasn’t because she needed anyone else. She was fine on her own.
She had the sisters and her work. That was all that mattered.
Her hand was still on his chest. Now she leaned in close. Yes. She would go to Kaua‘i with him, see how sincere he was. Before that …
With one hand she tossed aside her kihei, then pushed Aiwohi down into the snow.
19
The swim to Vai‘i was hardly long enough to think, and sooner than she might have wished, Namaka found herself resuming her legs and strolling up the shore near Puna. The one place she imagined Kuku Lau and the Nanaue would not pursue—most likely would not even consider a possible hiding place—was on land.
In the shallows behind her, Tilafaiga hesitated, Taema clinging to her shoulder as if the beach itself might grow a maw and try to swallow her.
“If you hadn’t been so preoccupied with your damn lover …” Taema snapped at her sister.
Namaka could not help but roll her eyes at the pair, as if Tilafaiga could have stopped her, had she been in the cavern sooner. “Form your legs. Now.”
Surely, Tilafaiga had realized where they were headed some time ago, but had said nothing. As she kept her silence now, grimacing even as she formed up into a human body. More or less human, anyway, if one didn’t consider her near opalescent eyes and the fins at her ankles. The sisters were older than her, and in possession of older hosts, as well, their semblances transformed into something more closely mirroring their true mer forms from Avaiki.
“What are we doing here?” Taema ventured, wobbling a bit on her legs, clearly having not taken human form in years. She glanced up at the sky. “It’s almost dawn.”
The pair of them had tattoos wending around their arms in elaborate floral patterns that wrapped down between their breasts, and followed the line of their hips all the way to their finned ankles. Since nothing below the navel was visible whilst in mer form, Namaka was left to wonder if those tattoos even functioned while absorbed inside the sister’s bodies.
When she answered, she looked to Tilafaiga rather than her timid sister. “The humans are more likely to be awake in daylight. Including my … host’s human sister.”
Tilafaiga groaned. “Everyone knows about the shared souls, Nyi Rara. They know you formed a symbiotic bond with your host like some filthy Moon spirit. Is that what you are now? An animal? Some kind of wereshark like the damn Nanaue?” The mermaid sneered. “Deep! Not even they actually give freedom to their hosts, so worse than that.”
“Silence,” Namaka said, pitching her voice deeper, resonant into the Penumbra. Demanding obedience as Tilafaiga had promised in her oath. The other mer’s mouth snapped shut so abruptly Namaka heard her teeth clank together. She took both sisters in with her gaze. “Come.”
Pele’s warriors met them on the edge of Puna proper, some leveling spears while others behind them hefted javelins primed to throw. Whether or not these men had seen them emerge from the sea and knew them for mer or just distrusted outsiders—Namaka had to remind herself Pele was at war with this Poli‘ahu—they did not offer the least bit of welcome.
Like the sisters, these warriors bore numerous tattoos, though Namaka imagined these were, in fact, merely for show, meant to intimidate their foes. Some of the men even bore elaborate inkings across half their faces, an aspect that might well have worked to strike fear into mortal hearts.
Namaka, though, encompassed all of them in with a single glare, instilling as much haughty pride into it as she could muster. That look alone seemed to cow half the warriors.
“Take me to Pele,” she commanded, her voice pitched once more into hypnotic siren tones that few mortal men could resist.
As if a single entity, the entirety of the warriors lowered the weapons and formed up to escort her and the sisters to the town.
“I hope you don’t think I’m impressed,” Tilafaiga whispered, pacing up by her side, already seeming more comfortable upon legs. “I was beguiling mortal minds long before you were born.”
“You were around during the Sundering, weren’t you?”
Tilafaiga hesitated.
“Speak.”
“Yes, though very young, and obviously with a different host. A host who died then, in fact. I imagine you’re aware, but our father was of Tinirau ‘Ohana.”
Indeed, one of the two ‘ohanas of Hiyoya, which, in Nyi Rara’s mind, had cast sporadic doubt as to the loyalty of the sisters despite their mother being sister to Nyi Rara’s father Ikatere. Surely these aspersions had only grown worse when Ikatere himself had betrayed Mu, at least in the eyes of Queen Aiaru.
“The Sundering ripped our family in half,” Tilafaiga said after a moment more. “I imagine, had Father lived through it, he’d have been torn between his old ‘ohana and his new one. Perhaps it was mercy he fell.”
Something in her tone made her words seem … unfinished. “What else?”
Tilafaiga glowered, gaze locked ahead at the approaching town.
“Speak,” Namaka ordered again.
Now the other mermaid groaned. “My uncle, Saveasi‘uleo sent for us—twice—promising us a place in Hiyoya, but we refused.” She glanced at Taema, making Namaka wonder if Tilafaiga made such a decision merely on account of her sister.
“We’ll speak of this more,” Namaka said, motioning the other mer to silence as they drew near the human settlement.
While the warriors had sent for Pele, it was Hi‘iaka who first came running to them, plowing into Namaka with an embrace that might have bowled her over had she lacked mer strength. Instead, she swept the girl up into her arms, but immediately dropped her as a jolt of energy coursed through her, a stinging shock.
“Ahh,” Namaka groaned, backing away.
Hi‘iaka’s face fell, and she stared at her feet. “Sorry, I … When I get excited …”
“I understand.” And she did. It had taken years of training with Milolii to not accidentally influence every source of water Namaka came across. She twisted waters with her fear, her anger, or even her joy, and people had suffered for it.
Accidental bolts of lightning did not seem much safer, th
ough.
“I, um … I’m supposed to go away with Kapo soon, for training.”
Namaka stroked her little sister’s cheek. “That’s for the best.”
“Yeah, well … If you say so.” The girl looked to the other mermaids waiting beyond Namaka and her eyes widened, apparently having noticed their not-quite-human appearances. “Those are …”
“They are my cousins,” Namaka said, not looking back at the pair.
“So then they’re my cousins, too, right?”
Tilafaiga snorted and Taema chittered.
Namaka clucked her tongue, wondering how to explain. “No. I have two souls. One is your sister, one is their cousin.” Hi‘iaka’s face didn’t seem to show much apprehension, and Namaka suddenly found herself disinclined to say more. “Where’s Pele?”
Now, her sister’s face flushed. “Um … celebrating her victory over Haupu …”
Namaka folded her arms. That probably meant taking a lover. Given Tilafaiga’s snicker, she imagined the mermaid came to the same conclusion. She glanced up at the too bright sun. “Fine. Can you give us a place to rest?”
The girl immediately perked up and led them to the women’s house in the palace, where Namaka found Pele’s advisor, Naia, as well as a handful of other ali‘i and slaves. They were taking a breakfast of poi, and while Naia offered, neither Namaka nor the other mer much cared for such human cuisine any longer.
Instead, they sat while Hi‘iaka shared news of Pele’s continuing conflict with Poli‘ahu and the recent destruction of Kaupeepee’s fortress on Moloka‘i. None of which interested Namaka overmuch, but she listened politely.
She actually felt it when Pele entered the room, the woman was so thick with mana. And beaming, clearly having enjoyed her morning’s exertions, even if her expression at seeing Namaka seemed less than elated.