The streets were crowded at this time of evening, with many people wheeling carts of old good-luck charms and various other offerings through the streets to get to the fire temple. The evening sun was pleasantly warm and she took her time walking home, politely looking at the wares of a few street vendors and tossing a full kala in front of every street musician she saw. She always thought of Kapa when she saw them, and she imagined how grateful he would have been to encounter someone so generous.
When she finally made it back to the shopkeepers' district, she was beginning to hope that this spirit solstice wouldn't be as miserable as she had thought. Perhaps Lana would find some way to come, and even if she couldn't, there were many ways to remember her daughter. Leilani felt sure that she would see her again someday.
Her skin prickled oddly when she turned onto their street and she paused, unaware of a drawn carriage racing perilously close to her. Someone gripped her arm and pulled her out of the way just in time for Leilani to see the emblem of the fire temple on the carriage door. She turned around to thank the person when her words dried in her throat. It was the witch. Her eyes were harder, perhaps, but her skin had not aged at all. Leilani's first thought was to ask what had happened to Lana, but she found herself incapable of speech and her legs incapable of movement.
"Walk," said the woman under her breath. Leilani's legs suddenly sprang into motion, walking industriously back in the direction that she had come. In her mind she was screaming for Kapa, but her mouth didn't move. She didn't know what the witch had planned for her, but she was thoroughly terrified. She knew it must have something to do with Lana, and she immediately suspected that her daughter must be in far more danger now than she had ever been, even this time last year. They rounded the corner and stopped, to her surprise, in front of the same wooden carriage that had nearly run her over two minutes ago. Was this woman in league with the fire temple?
"Get inside," the witch said. Leilani opened the door and climbed inside, amazed at how well her limbs could work without her conscious direction. The witch climbed in after her and slammed the door shut. She slid all of the wooden covers over the windows and then told the driver to leave.
Leilani stared straight ahead because she had to. Utterly helpless, she wondered where this woman was taking her, and prayed that her daughter would be safe.
It took Lana nearly four days of straight flying-only resting when she was in danger of falling out of the sky-to reach Akua's house. She was amazed at how quickly she could travel now. A fast ship could cover the same distance in a little more than a week. The death seemed inexplicably cheery during her journey and hardly made any effort at all to take her, even when she landed to sleepso exhausted she could hardly blow a single note on the flute. It even refrained from mocking her about Kai, which she felt was almost magnanimous. If it had been a human, she would have said it was anticipating something.
Lana flew over Ialo around midday, and the sight of gathered crowds and brightly painted houses made her realize that today must be solstice eve. She tried to imagine the feast that her mother would be cooking right now-jellied oranges, roast grouper, yucca stuffed with spices and fish meat. She was probably cooking in the faint hope that Lana would find some way to visit. Suddenly she missed her mother so much that she wanted to cry. Would they ever see each other again?
The death, floating below her, cocked its head curiously and she bit her tongue. She would not let it know how afraid she was. Just before sunset she found the lake and Akua's familiar stone house, nestled in a bend in the shoreline. She circled warily, trying to gather her courage to land. She knew how powerful the witch was-Lana would stand no chance in an open confrontation. She supposed Kai was right-some part of her still hoped that Akua could somehow offer her a reasonable explanation. And if she couldn't ... Lana didn't want to think that far. She landed on the earth right in front of the door. It was open, she saw in surprise.
"Threshold," she said to the death, even though it hadn't moved. It nodded, as though a geas without a sacrifice or a person to actually invite her in was perfectly reasonable. She took a deep breath and walked inside.
It became immediately obvious to her that Akua was gone, but she called the witch's name several times before she admitted it. The kitchen looked like a shell of its old self-no more herbs dried on the ceiling, no cauldron hung above the hearth. The cupboards were bare except for a few empty jars. She turned and ran up the stairs, her wings pressing up against the walls.
Her room had been ransacked. Akua had apparently rifled through every item of clothing and every cubbyhole-until she had found her mother's letters. She looked through the scattered pile frantically, wondering why Akua would have been looking for something so trivial. Most of them were still there, she realized. Only two had been taken-ones that her mother had written during Lana's first few months with Akua. What could possibly be important about those? Even as she wondered, she became aware of an overpowering anger, bubbling up under her skin until she thought she would explode with it. Akua had been manipulating her like a puppet for all of these years and Lana had never known. Like a child, she had blindly trusted her mentor-trusted her even into murder.
Lana stormed down the stairs and walked to the edge of the lake, somehow confident that the death would not touch her now.
"Ino," she shouted. "It's me. I need your help." She waited. Moments later, the water before her rippled and she saw his familiar face rise above the surface.
He stared at her for a long time, his opaque eyes taking in her huge black wings and expressing a heavy sadness.
"Oh, little diver," he said. "What have you done?"
"Only what I had to," she said, her heart constricting. Could anyone else but Ino truly understand what she had given up by accepting the wind's sacrifice?
"You said you needed my help. Anything I can, I'll give to you."
"Where has the witch gone, Ino?" she asked.
He shook his head. "I can't say, little diver. But you shouldn't try to find her. You should stay as far away as you can-she has used you too long. If you stay away, maybe she won't be able to use you any longer."
The beginnings of a geas began shimmering around his skin, but he did not move.
"Ino ... it's too late. I can't run away. I have to find out why she's done this. I have to understand what else she's done. You're the only one I know who can help me, and if you don't, I'm as good as dead. Please."
He held his silence for at least a minute. Finally, he nodded. "You've grown strong." The shimmering of the geas suddenly intensified and she saw him wince. "Wait here," he said softly. He ducked back under the surface of the lake.
She stood silently, waiting for Ino to return.
"Now would be a good time to take you," the death whispered in her ear.
She shuddered. "But you don't want to," she said, fingering the flute and wondering if she should use it.
"Perhaps you're right," it said. "Even though it would be convenient, perhaps I am, as you say, bound to passions that render me ... slightly irrational."
"Passions like anticipation?" she asked.
It laughed. "Indeed. You have come to know me well."
Ino reemerged from the lake, gasping and shuddering. She ran forward, amazed that he could still be moving with the force of the geas that she felt. It looked like he was in agony.
"Take this, little diver," he said, handing her a small black book similar to the one she remembered reading in the death temple a year ago. As soon as she took it he let out a high-pitched shriek of agony and collapsed into the water.
"Ino!" She fell to her knees in the shallow mud. "What did you do?"
"Go," he said. "The binding ... won't kill me. Go, before she makes me take it back."
Lana stood up and backed away, stuffing the book in her bag.
"I swear to you that one day I'll find a way to break that geas, Ino," she said.
>, Go!
With one last worried glance, Lana launch
ed herself off the ground. She wasn't going far-she still had one last person she needed to see.
She landed on the outskirts of the village, where one small boy playing by himself in a puddle stared at her with open-mouthed surprise. She smiled at him and began walking. She didn't bother putting on her cloak-it hardly mattered, now. The streets were mostly deserted this solstice eve. The smells of plentiful suppers wafted onto the road and she struggled not to think of her mother. Night had fallen, but the nearly full moon gave off plenty of light. To her surprise, the door to the general store was still open. She would have thought that Apano's daughter would refuse to entertain customers on solstice eve. She walked inside.
Apano was the only person in the front room. He sat in his chair humming to himself as he whittled a piece of driftwood with a small knife. As soon as he heard her footsteps, however, he stopped and stared at the door with his ruined eyes.
"Who is that?" he asked. She walked closer to him. "Lana?" he said. "What happened to you?"
He could always tell. She never knew how, but he could always tell. "Too much," she said quietly. She gripped his hand and led it to the wings on her back.
He stroked them gently, an expression of wonder on his face. "Child ... so you're now ... a black angel?"
"Yes," she said.
"I always thought that woman would drive you to grief ... she used you, you most of all."
"Apa," she said. "The witch is gone. Did you hear anything? Do you have any idea what might have happened?"
"She left about seven months ago, Lana. They told me she hurried through the streets and hired a boat like she was being chased by death. The boat was headed for Ialo, but she could have gone anywhere after that."
Seven months ago? What had happened to scare Akua so much?
Behind her, someone began to scream. Lana whirled around and saw Apano's daughter standing in the inner doorway, her hands plastered to her mouth.
"Help!" she screamed. "It's a black angel! That bitch witch's apprentice has turned herself into a black angel!"
Her husband ran to the door. "Get out!" he shouted. "Leave my family alone."
Apano stood up, his eyebrows furrowed in anger. "How dare you speak that way to a guest of mine!"
"You are a blind old fool," the man said. He pushed Apano, who went sprawling back in his chair. "I will not allow you to keep this ... this abomination in our house."
Lana stood up. "I'm sorry, Apa," she said. "I shouldn't have come.
She turned around and walked to the door. As she stood on the threshold, she noticed the death staring eagerly toward the west.
The image in its robes was familiar, but not one she had ever seen there. Why was it showing her Essel?
She watched in horror as Nui'ahi, the sleeping sentinel of the greatest city in the world, erupted in a mass of angry, violent flame. And then the rumbling began, quietly at first, then swelling into a noise too great and too violent to be illusion.
But, keika, I will.
And it hadn't taken very long-just a few hours of sitting miserably in her abandoned room, wondering if she would find the witch and if the witch would kill her. He imagined how he would feel if she died and he hadn't even tried to protect her ... it was simple, really. He had wanted to be with her even when he thought she had weakened death's bonds. And that budding desire was a thimble of water compared to the ocean of his current longing.
It had taken Kai all of his self-control not to go chasing after Lana then. The disturbances that he had sensed for years suddenly felt more acute, as though whatever strange, subtle thing had been interfering with the islands had reached critical mass. Confined as he was in this remote place, he did the only thing he could: reinforce the geas that prevented the spirits from leaving the gate. He spent four days in a thick haze of frantic grief, unable to bear the thought of Lana on her own again, only now realizing how deeply embroiled she was in a plot that she hadn't even known existed.
Four days after Lana fled, Kai slept on the small fishing boat that he would use to get to the nearest town. The night of solstice eve, as he anchored in the gently rocking water, he awoke abruptly to the sound of a distant rumbling. Waves lapped harder against the edge of his boat. In some faraway part of the ocean, thousands of creatures screamed out their deaths as the water boiled around them. The echoes of their distress rippled and grew until it reached a single crescendo that Kai had no ability to close his mind against. He put his hand in the water, hoping for a clearer expression of what had happened. He received it, slowly, from those sprites and water creatures that could form the words:
Nui'ahi.
Fire or death. He had guessed, and he had been wrong.
On solstice eve, Manuku snuck up to the 'Ana's rooms without quite knowing why. His daughter had just gone to bed, but he couldn't bring himself to do the same. There was an inexplicable mood of nervous anticipation in the death temple-he could see it on the faces of the priests and officiates as they hurried by, pretending not to notice he was there. He could also tell that they understood the reason no more than he did. So, even though he had done his weekly cleaning three days before, he climbed the hundreds of stairs within the 'Ana's tower.
Everything remained exactly where he had left it. The mirror that he had broken months before lay facedown on the dresserhe knew that no one but he would ever dare pick it up, so his secret was safe. He walked around the room slowly, gently running his fingers over every surface to make sure that it remained dustfree. In his peripheral vision, he saw images floating in and out of definition within the column of air. The death spirit was certainly agitated-the flow of images seemed far more frantic and gleeful than normal. He thought he saw the now-familiar image of the girl with the horrible black wings, but thankfully she didn't remain visible for long.
He paused near the doorway, wondering why he had felt so compelled to visit a place he usually hated.
A slight tremor passed under his feet. He barely noticedtremors were relatively common, here at the center. He glanced at the column and felt a frisson of disbelief run through his stomach.
It was blank. For a bare moment, the column of air was free of any roiling hints of imagery.
The next image was a volcano, spewing glowing chunks of molten lava in the air and raining ash. And then the frantic pace resumed-this time of people dying one after another, consumed by fire and ash.
Erlun had blessed Yechtak when he left the tribe. The old shaman's voice had been so full of pride that after he returned, Yechtak had been too cowardly to tell him of his failures near the ruins. But he swore to the old man that he would do everything in his power to do the bidding of the wild spirit. To himself, he swore that he would find Iolana again and make true amends for his behavior. And perhaps, when he had proven himself worthy, she would not find his kiss so repugnant.
At his mother's request, he had delayed leaving on his next journey for a month so she would have time to arrange a marriage for him. He had told his bride that she could only be his second wife, but she had seemed content with that and they had married just before he left. His mother had suffered too much, he decided, for him to deny her the grandchildren for which she longed. She was a sweet girl, Yechtak thought, but he knew that he would never be able to feel true passion for her. No, that emotion was reserved for the one who had spent three days on the wind altar in mute agony to emerge, metamorphosed, as a beautiful, pitiable creature of destruction and power. For a brief moment, he had felt himself underneath her as he called the wind for her first flight. He had shared her exhilaration and her fear. Yes, he thought, it fell to him to tell the world of the coming of the black angel.
His love for her kept him warm during yet another cold night on the vast island they called Okua. Here, this far inland, early fall meant layers of frost and sometimes even dusty coatings of snow on the verdant bamboo leaves. He longed to sleep away from the cold, but he had long since run out of his small stash of Binder money, and few of these cold people to
ok barter. Of course, even if he had money, people often turned inhospitable as soon as he mentioned the words "black angel." No one, he discovered, wanted to hear his news. But he still felt just as honor-bound to say it. Sometimes he heard the wind around him, but it never felt as strong or as comforting here as it had on his island.
Hiking through the night to keep warm, he paused in startled surprise when three nearby cranes keened in unison and then flew off. The wind that suddenly gusted past his ears sounded like soft crying, and for the barest of moments he thought it carried the scent of ash and scorched flesh.
In a tower at the northeast corner of the fire temple, two novice nuns practically carried Nahoa up the stairs as she gripped her swollen belly and tried to ignore the way birthing fluid dripped from her pants onto the stairs as she walked.
"Come, my lady, we're almost there," said one. Nahoa groaned and forced one foot to follow another. The baby was coming a few weeks early and had caught everyone by surprise. Apparently this tower was the safest area in the temple-they had been planning to move her there just after the spirit solstice. She knew that Kohaku's spies would be rushing to the Mo'i's house with the news. She wondered how he would take it. Would he try to contact her again? Sometimes she missed him so much that she actually considered going back. Then she would remember how Nahe had looked as he died and how even now the disappearances continued. Kohaku refused to promise her the one thing she needed from him: that he would never harm anyone again. And so she found herself giving birth at the top of a tower in the fire temple, surrounded by nuns and guards so she would be safe from her husband.
Makaho, the head nun, was already in the room when she staggered inside.
"Get her in the bed," she said.
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