by Matt Larkin
He smiled sadly. Maybe he had understood enough. He looked away for a little while, staring into the darkness. When he turned back to her, he squeezed her hand.
Her heartbeat quickened as he ran his thumb gently over her knuckles. “You … you are my husband’s nephew.”
“I’m not sure the normal age restrictions apply to kupua.”
There was regret for so many things. She would not delude herself into thinking this love. Maybe she’d had that with Aukele, and yes, maybe Kana reminded her of him, a little. But there was something. They needed each other. She leaned in and kissed Kana. He threw his arms around her, kissing her mouth, then cheeks, and her neck.
Finally, she led Kana away from the village, down by the lake. Almost afraid to speak, afraid to say the wrong thing, she tossed aside her skirt. Kana pulled his own off as well, then gently guided her down to the ground, kissing her all the way.
When he slept, she lay there, looking at him.
“I wish I could save you,” she whispered.
There were a lot of people she wanted to save. Despite all her power, many, like Kana, lay beyond her help.
They were caught up in currents beyond even her control. Tides of history pulling them along like driftwood. Kanaloa was trying to control those tides, using Kū-Waha-Ilo to do so.
In the end, to stop the octopus god, Namaka would have to kill her father.
The thought should have horrified her.
Instead, it just left a hollow in her chest.
35
Fire was the purest force, the preserving force. It lit the darkness and warded against threats in the night. But it could also burn the living, and Pele had done so too often without intending it.
Now though, for once, she had a reason to want to burn a man. Kū-Waha-Ilo had crossed a line from which there was no turning back. Maybe he had done so long ago and she had been blind to it. Or had turned a blind eye to it. Of course, she had known he was a monster.
But he had nearly slain Maui long ago, and she had no doubt he’d hurt Namaka. Maybe killed her. The flames didn’t answer.
Either way, she would introduce Kū-Waha-Ilo to real, true rage. The rage of a volcano unleashed, a fury mankind could not begin to fathom. She needed only find him.
The menehune tunnels delved deep into the Earth, bringing Pele closer and closer to the fires at its heart. Despite the ever-present gloom, it was almost comforting, like returning to the volcano. Light was not a problem. It took no effort to stoke the fires of her rage, and thus, the fires of her hair.
How could she not rage, with Kamapua‘a, her possessed nightmare of a husband, walking alongside her as though he thought to protect her? The pig wisely kept his distance, not drawing too close, seeming almost afraid to touch her.
As well he should.
Something plagued him, though, and embracing the Sight, Pele could see a disturbance in his aura. Oh, he was flush with mana—so much it should have terrified her—but something had polluted his flesh. Pele didn’t know what, nor was she certain she ought to much care.
Whatever had befallen the pig, he surely deserved.
While she would not turn away his help against a foe like Kū-Waha-Ilo, neither would she grieve if her father killed the pig.
Regardless, she needed to focus on these passages. She couldn’t see far, but she could see enough to realize something up ahead moved in the shadows, shifting around her. Nothing human had such subtlety, not down here.
“I see you,” she said. “Come out and face me, Earth spirits.”
At first, nothing happened. Then, slowly, a form seemed to melt out of the rock wall ahead, advancing on her with spear leveled.
“You are trespassing.”
“So was the other woman who came this way.”
At that, the menehune chuckled. Or at least she thought it was a chuckle.
“Take me where you took her.”
The spirit moved close enough to nearly brush her face with its spear. “You do not give orders down here, human.”
Pele had not come this far to be intimidated by these diminutive freaks. Had not faced down a lapu to be driven away by menehune. She snatched the spear shaft in the same moment she rushed volcanic heat through her hand. The wooden shaft crackled and turned to ash where her hand met it, its tip clattering to the floor. The menehune stared at it in shock, giving her enough time to step forward and grab the spirit by its hair, letting flames engulf her other hand.
“Not exactly human. I am the Flame Queen and you will obey my command, or I will fill your tunnels with a thousand tons of molten rock. I will burn your hiding holes into nothing but cinders and a whisper of a memory!”
Eyes wide, the menehune squirmed in her grasp, finally managing to wiggle free. Pele let him go. She was fairly certain she’d made her point. Now that her anger had flared, however, the ground had already begun to tremble. Lava tubes ran beneath these tunnels, and the rock beneath them cracked, letting out a squealing hint of sulfuric vapors.
“You’d suffocate, too.” Though the spirit’s voice proved hard to read, the creature didn’t sound convinced of his own claim.
“Take me to the Sea Queen. Now.” And ‘aumākua allow that she lived.
“Huh,” Kamapua‘a said, not quite his usually effusive self. She had judged him right, before—wracked by justified guilt, wretched with it. As well he deserved, though Pele had no right to sit in judgment over anyone.
Grumbling, the menehune turned and trod down the tunnel. She followed it a long way until the pig pushed in uncomfortably close to her.
“The boar doesn’t trust them.”
“Are you referring to yourself in the third person?”
“Pretty sure there’s just one of me. I mean, that and the shitting boar. You could call it my second person. So, I’m talking about myself in the second person.”
Pele rolled her eyes. “I suggest you don’t.”
“Only it’s not a person, actually. Not anymore. Second pigson, I guess. Anyway, the point is they’re not people either, darling wife.”
Pele stiffened at his words. “Yes. I don’t trust anyone possessed by an akua.”
“Yeah, good shit, then.”
They reached a stone-carved village complete with underground lake and even waterfalls. The place had an Otherworldly beauty she almost regretted threatening to destroy. These beings were entitled to their home as much as anyone and merely wanted to defend it. But Namaka was here—the menehune had confirmed that—and Pele needed to find her.
Her elder sister had almost no chance against Kū-Waha-Ilo alone.
She pointed at the lake beneath the rocks. “I don’t suppose those are the magic healing waters?”
“The Waters of Life?” The menehune snorted. “Sadly, no.”
“Pele?” someone called from far above. Namaka stood on a rock outcropping overlooking the underground lake, staring down at her and Kamapua‘a.
Pele nodded at her elder sister, and the woman began making her way down the slope. Upoho was with her, and Kana.
Namaka approached now, pain clear in her weary steps. A dozen menehune stood up on the ledge too, watching them.
“I remember you,” Kamapua‘a said when Namaka got close. “The Water Girl. I mean, the one who likes the waters. Too late to marry me now.” He cocked his head at Pele. “This is my woman. Get your own, Water Girl.”
“I am not your woman.”
Namaka ignored the pig, focusing on Pele. “Did he finally tell you?”
Pele stared a moment, then groaned. Oh. Oh, damn … Namaka had known about Lonomakua. ‘Aumākua, how blind Pele had been to miss it all. Had anyone else known? Kapo, maybe? Hi‘iaka? Yeah, probably not her.
The wereboar interposed himself between her and Namaka. “All right, all right. Would you listen to me for one moment? Just one, all right? Just this one time. I mean until next time. Now look.” He held up a hand, then pointed a finger at the ground. “How about we all just sit down and t
alk.” With that, he plopped down beside Pele and folded his legs beneath him.
Reluctantly, Pele nodded and sat down beside the pig, watching as her sister and Kana did the same. Upoho just stood and glared at her, but then, she deserved that. He also seemed to cast the occasional wary glance at Kamapua‘a.
The pig man himself looked at Namaka, though. “You seem to have forgotten my name. I’m Kamapua‘a. Sometimes called Kama. Sometimes called Kamapua‘a the Mighty.”
Pele snorted. “No one calls you that.”
“Yeah, well, I do. Sometimes.”
Namaka continued to ignore him, looking instead to Pele. “There’s something you should know,” she finally said.
“It’s Kū-Waha-Ilo down there,” Pele finished for her, and Namaka arched a brow.
“How do you …?”
Pele scoffed. Considering Namaka had withheld Lonomakua’s identity from her, she didn’t owe her sister any explanation about the source of her knowledge now. “You can’t defeat him. Not away from the sea.”
“And you can?” Namaka snapped.
“Well, great,” the wereboar said. “This is already an improvement from slinging elemental forces of destruction. Yeah, I heard about that.” He winked. “Now if we could just get the disdain and spite out of you, too, maybe we could accomplish something. Like love. And feasting. Love first. Namaka, you and Kana can use the left side of camp, Pele and I will take the right.”
“We are not lovers, wereboar,” Pele said.
“Nor are we,” Namaka added, though the way she cast a strange glance at the boy had Pele doubting.
Kana glanced up at the menehune above. “I have no stomach to sit and talk. I’ll smooth things over with Molowa. The menehune are obviously not happy about the intruders here.”
Pele arched an eyebrow. “How is he going to smooth anything over with those akua?”
Namaka shook her head, a forlorn look on her face.
“The imbecile promised himself as a host,” Upoho said with a growl.
“Oh, shit,” the pig said. “Boy’s gonna get a rock up his soul? That’s got to hurt.”
“What?” Pele demanded. “What do you mean promised himself?”
Namaka grimaced. “Against my command, Kana offered himself to the chief as a host in exchange for guiding us to the Waters of Life.”
“Which you didn’t get!” Pele snapped. Was it so easy for Namaka to cast aside lives like this? “This is Aukele’s nephew we’re talking about! Your husband’s blood!”
“Uh, yeah, my nephew too,” Kamapua‘a said. “Him turning to stone is some shit-shitting pig shit I cannot abode.”
“You mean abide,” Namaka said.
The pig squared his shoulders. “Look here. I’m not bidding or boding or brooding, all right. Already lost my brother, and I can’t see letting my shitting nephew get ridden around like I do so a rock can have a pet.”
Upoho groaned. “Does it hurt to be that stupid?”
Kama shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt me. Can’t say about anyone else, really.”
The wererat looked to Namaka. “The fact remains that your father’s domain is thick with lava.”
Now Kama jumped to his feet. “Oh! Oh! So, uh, maybe having a kupua who can control fire and shit might be useful. Shit, Pele, don’t make me think of everything. It’s tough having to be the smartest guy in the cave.”
“You want me to work with her?” Namaka demanded of Upoho. “We can barely stop from killing each other.”
Pele gritted her teeth. ‘Aumākua! Even if she wanted to bury the past with Namaka, the woman wouldn’t let her, would she? “For once I agree with the pig. On both counts.”
“Which counts?” Namaka asked, looking resigned.
“You need me to face Kū-Waha-Ilo, so I will. You deal with any minions he brings to bear.”
“And secondly?” Namaka asked.
“I’m not letting the menehune have Kana.” She rose slowly to her feet. “Aukele was your husband and my … friend. That makes his ‘ohana my ‘ohana. And I’m tired of losing members of my godsdamned ‘ohana. I will not fail anyone else, Namaka. We failed Pu‘u-hele …” Namaka winced at that. “We failed Hi‘iaka. Aukele, Milolii, so many others. No more.” She growled the last words.
Namaka climbed to her own feet, looking around the village, then at Upoho and Kamapua‘a. “Four kupua.”
“Five,” Pele said. “Kana has powers of his own.”
“Five kupua against a village of Earth akua. Gods, Pele.”
Pele waved that away. “And you’re a godsdamned mermaid.” She spread her hands, drawing up magma from far beneath the Earth. The cavern began to rumble, thrumming with her power. “Kamapua‘a. What happens … if you let the Boar God out?”
“Eh … nothing good.”
Upoho took a step forward. “Wait, what now?”
She had to gamble that the Moon akua would not come after her again. Not after she’d already married Kama and submitted to the Boar God’s desires. Now, would he fight to protect what he had claimed?
“Show them,” Pele said. “Show these rock bastards why they don’t want to chase us.”
“Can’t do that …”
“You can control this,” Pele said. “It has what it wants … now it must merely fight to keep what it wants.”
“Aww, shit.” Kama looked around. “Gonna be shitting rocks for days after this.” He rolled his shoulders.
Already, Pele’s tremors had attracted a throng of onlooking menehune. The Earth akua gathered around them, hands raised in warding. Chunks of rock had begun to rise up from the ground before them, ready to be flung at her with far more force than any sling could manage.
Pele didn’t care.
She was not giving up Kana.
She wasn’t losing anyone else.
She roared, raising her hands, splitting the ground asunder with a torrent of lava spewing up so high it splattered off the cavern ceiling.
An avalanche of boulders shot at her before she could even direct the flow of lava.
Geysers of water launched themselves from the underground sea, swirled around Namaka, and caught the boulders in their wake, circling the cavern in a vortex. Those giant rocks smashed through menehune and stone buildings like a typhoon through manmade homes.
Kana raced from the chief’s house, ran, and leapt down among them, shouting something. Pele couldn’t hear him and didn’t care, regardless. She directed the lava flow to rush over the chief’s home an instant after the menehune himself dove free. Her fires engulfed the island upon which the house sat, then leapt to nearby islands, swallowing a dozen menehune too slow to melt into the ground.
A rock man slid up from the ground before her, thrusting his spear at her.
A seven-feet tall boar man caught the menehune, snarled, and ripped his head off, then started eating it.
Fast as the wind, Kana darted between menehune, breaking away to point to a tunnel. An escape route.
Upoho chased after him, hurling aside menehune, though taking a few wounds to his arms and legs in the process.
Namaka whipped the boulder-filled waters into churning rings, hurling them outward in arcs of destruction that crushed everything in their path.
For an instant, Pele gaped at the devastation she and her sister had wrought together. Winced at the pain. But these creatures had tried to take something from her ‘ohana. She could not allow it.
She grabbed Namaka’s wrist and dragged her sister away, after Kana, toward the exit. A wave of her hand sent a wave of lava covering their tracks, making it impossible for the menehune to mold the stone or pass up through it.
Assuming they even thought to try.
The Boar God had a half-dead menehune in each hand and another impaled on a tusk, leaping about the village like a hideous frog, kicking and smashing with such abandon it couldn’t help but terrify Pele. The akua ripped pieces off his victims and hurled them as missiles at others.
“Kamapua‘a!” she final
ly shouted.
The Boar God glanced at her, then raced toward the exit, bounding into the lava and continuing to run through it, not even heeding his own melting flesh.
Pele gaped. Wondered what she’d do if the day ever came to finally kill her husband.
Once he passed, she jerked the lava upward in an arc, covering the tunnel exit.
As soon as it cooled, the menehune would be able to melt through it and pursue them.
If they were fools.
36
A long time they had run, but the menehune did not seem inclined to pursue them. Perhaps the extreme violence had deterred them. Perhaps they assumed Kū-Waha-Ilo would kill them all anyway.
Namaka supposed it didn’t matter the reason. Not right now.
“We’re getting close,” Kana said. Before the altercation, the man had managed to acquire a pair of candlenut torches from the menehune, but he hadn’t lit them yet. The fires hovering in Pele’s hands gave off enough light. He paused now, though, lighting one of the torches off those same fires. The Flame Queen looked at him curiously. “You get knocked down and we’re left in darkness. Lesson learned.”
A subtle jibe at Namaka. Even if he had meant it as a tease, it was a reminder that she’d dropped their last torch and left them in total darkness. If Upoho hadn’t come along, they’d have died. Considering the moment they had shared together a few hours ago, Namaka didn’t much feel like being teased by Kana. If he was even teasing her. He didn’t look her way, almost as if he meant no more by his words than a practical lesson.
She scowled. She was letting her emotions run wild. This place, and what lay before—it would get to anyone.
“Just remember the plan,” Pele said. “Keep the bird-thing away from me. I’ll deal with Kū-Waha-Ilo.”
“He’s powerful,” Namaka said.
“And you’re well out of your element down here,” her sister snapped. “Let’s not waste time pretending you’d be anything but a hindrance in a fight with him. Besides, I owe him more than you. There are more things going on than I’ve had time to tell you. Now I’m going to kill him.” With that, she pushed on ahead, leaving Namaka to wonder what she meant.
