“Well,” he said, and opened his arms. “This is it, guys. I’m gonna travel around a bit and end up at my uncle’s military base in South Korea.”
“Will you ever come back?” Mason asked mournfully.
“Yeah, man, of course. But right now I just can’t”—Rafael hesitated, staring around—“look at anything to do with Hawai’i without thinking of them.”
“Let us know when we can visit,” Mason said, hugging him.
Ryoko waited, aware of the hardness in Rafael’s eyes as he returned Mason’s hug. He wouldn’t be sightseeing, she knew. He would be hunting.
“I’ll miss you,” she whispered as they embraced. Rafael said nothing, but he squeezed her a little harder and kissed the top of her head. Then he was gone, heading toward the taxi with purpose in his stride. Something dropped out of his pocket. Ryoko knelt and unfolded it.
A photo of Tica and Jinho beamed back at her through the mist, splattered with raindrops. On the back were the words written in slashing black strokes:
I’ll be waiting.
–Crown Prince Khyber
Mason sighed. “Aolani and Lono should have been here. I don’t know why Rafael changed his flight to an earlier time.”
“A lot about him has changed.” Ryoko straightened and tucked the photo into her pocket. They walked back toward her car slowly, arm in arm.
“Aolani’s decided to pursue a teaching career after graduation,” Mason said. “She wants to have a conversation about the role of Hawaiian language in the public school system.”
Ryoko tsked. “That sounds like a lot of work.”
Mason shrugged, draping an arm over her shoulder. “That’s why she’ll have Lono and me to support her. I believe we can both help her out in different ways.”
“Very different ways.”
He laughed. “Yes, less kissy-kissy on my end, and more hitting the books. Becoming a lawyer isn’t going to happen overnight.”
“For you it will, dope. Promise me you’ll never doubt yourself.” She hugged him back.
He bit his lip, blinking away tears. “Are you sure about going to live with your grandmother’s family in Japan?”
“It won’t be forever.” Ryoko stared at her sandals, already imaging how they would soon disappear along with the orange gecko that lived in her room and the rusty gate that squeaked whenever she walked to the beach. “I can’t stay here right now, Mason. Tica was my best friend. And it’s just so unfair, because I thought she was getting better and everything was going to be all right again, but now she’s just…gone.”
Her tears bled into his jacket, and he stroked her hair, neither of them able to look at the other.
“I go to her apartment now and it’s empty. The entire Dominguez family, gone in one day. It’s like I blinked, and they all evaporated without a trace. I still see them in my dreams. I look through the screen door, and there they are all together, laughing and eating dinner around that small circle table…”
Tica’s mother gets up and calls, “Tica! Set an extra plate! Your sister’s here!”
Rafael leans back in his chair, grinning. “Ryoko’s not my sister,” he says, and I flush with pleasure.
Tica flicks a carrot at him. “Ew! Stay away from my bestie, perv! Ryoko’s too good for you!” Then she runs to open the door. I duck inside like I’ve done a million times before, to my home, to my loved ones who will always be here, to a part of my life I can’t live without.
Ryoko stopped crying, but she stared at the gray mist with reddened eyes. “When I wake up, it hurts so much,” she choked out.
Mason nodded, squeezing her wrist. “Facetime me every week.”
She smiled. “Two times a week.”
“Deal.” Mason hesitated, shoving his hands into his pockets. “How long is the flight time from Japan to South Korea?”
“Two hours.” Ryoko’s eyes hardened. “If Rafael ever needs me, I’ll be there.”
***
Every night since Tica’s death, Ryoko had locked herself in her room, pulled out a pair of lavender candles, and entered Eve. She left out plates of ramyeon to attract good spirits. It wasn’t much, but it managed to attract a hungry chicken spirit. The chicken promised to bring any news of Tica.
The bird didn’t have much luck. Frustrated, Ryoko asked the good spirit to bring a message to the Big Island—to Mauna Kea. The chicken agreed after being bribed with Sapporo-style miso ramyeon.
Dawn broke rose petal pink across the bay after another unsuccessful night of searching. Ryoko realized she’d dozed off waiting. She turned groggily upon hearing a flutter of wings and realized that the erratic chicken spirit was zooming around her room, pooping on everything.
“Um…what are you doing?”
“EGG!” the crazy chicken spirit screeched, clawing two angry red scratches down Ryoko’s cheeks. “THERE WAS AN EGG IN MY RAMYEON!”
“I’m sorry,” Ryoko protested. “There wasn’t supposed to be. My grandmother must have added it—”
“See if I ever help you again, you MONSTER!” the chicken shrieked, and then it hurled itself out the window.
“Because you were such a great help anyway, eating us out of house and ramyeon,” Ryoko muttered, kicking over the bowl.
The broth froze before it hit the floor. Ryoko jumped back, startled, as blue ice crawled across the floor and up the walls to her fan. The fan blades continued to spin, albeit blowing snowflakes, and the sunrise rays refracted through a glittery coat of frost caking the window glass.
“Not asking someone to guard your earthly body and dealing with the likes of a chicken spirit for all of these weeks? My, my. You must really want to speak with me.”
Ryoko whirled about to find a beautiful ice maiden sitting on her bed, her dark eyes cold and unforgiving—but curious.
“O Great and Powerful Snow Goddess—”
Poli’ahu waved a hand, and Ryoko’s lips froze shut. “Spare me, child. Unlike Pele, I do not need to hear frightened mortals sing chants of praise to know my power.”
Ryoko folded her arms tight against the frigid cold. “You lied to Tica and me.”
A glint appeared in the black ice that formed her eyes. “I did not. I told you dark mo’o were coming for you and Tica’s mother.”
“It wasn’t dark mo’o after Tica’s mother; it was Jinho, that horrible vampyre! He killed her!” Ryoko was close to tears.
“Everyone is so accusatory these days. They fail to remember that it was they who chose to listen.” Poli’ahu sighed. “Get to it, girl. Why am I really here?”
“Now Rafael travels alone to South Korea to destroy that…monster,” Ryoko said brokenly.
“Ahhh.” Poli’ahu stood and swept around the room, examining Ryoko’s collection of Kimmidolls on the dresser. “I knew I liked you. Now I know why. So detached and full of quips on the outside, in order to hide how much you really care underneath.” She whirled around in a cloud of sparkling snow powder, holding a photograph of Ryoko and Rafael in her hands. “I can help you, child. I can give you greater power than you have ever known, power strong enough to protect your love from death. However, my magic carries a price. You will be able to protect Rafael from harm, but in turn, he will never fall in love with you.”
Ryoko bit her lip, hesitant. The snowflakes hovered around the image of the laughing Rafael, the last living Dominguez. Finally, she moved to hold the photo frame with the snow goddess.
“That is your curse as well, isn’t it?” she murmured. “You can protect those you love, but in return, they will never care for you.”
Poli’ahu’s face thawed just for a moment, and she took Ryoko’s hand. “I knew I chose right. Now it is your turn. Think carefully, Ryoko child. Which decision will you make?”
Ryoko made her choice. Suddenly, although she stood up to her bare ankles in an icy, glitzy wonderland, she didn’t feel the cold—only the pain, and how many different drifts of snow there were to hide it under. When she caught a glimpse of her refle
ction in the mirror, she exhaled no frost. The red chicken scratches still ran down her cheeks, two permanent blood tears.
Somewhere in the upper recesses of her room, a gecko laughed.
Chapter 25: The Return
~Khyber~
I entered the penthouse suite at the top of the Punahele Hotel overlooking Waikiki. The land was dark, but thousands of twinkling lights lit up the beach like beacons, whispering of warm, living bodies, of flesh growing hot with desire, of blood.
My fangs clicked out. I was raw inside, impossibly angry at everyone and no one. For the first time in centuries, I felt…the hunger, unburied after Tica’s death. It was enough to distract me from the damning silence enveloping the penthouse suite, not one heartbeat echoing within the upper floors.
“Ho, ho, something that can tempt even Prince Khyber.” Crispin emerged from his suite kitchen with a kettle of boiling hot blood and two teacups. He poured carefully. “It’s nice to see you’ve hung up Jinho in the closet for a while. He interfered far too much in my dominion and ruined my chance to capture Mo’oinanea for Mother. Ah, but we’ve all fucked with each other at one point or another. Welcome back, brother.”
“And you,” I said coldly. “It’s nice to see you’ve returned to your family instead of consorting with Elder Dark Spirits you know nothing about.”
“The Dark Spirits are our servants. We are their bridge to the waking world.”
“Is that why they went off-book without telling you?”
Sweat began to pour off Crispin’s brow, dripping into the teacups. “Charming as usual! You’ll understand then, dear elder brother, why this tea isn’t for you.”
My gaze drifted to the two untouched teacups of blood on the table. Suddenly I knew why the night was so silent.
They emerged on either side of the gloating Crispin. Aaron, my second eldest brother who ruled the Middle Eastern sphere, stalked toward me with wary apprehension; he took no delight in being an errand boy. The same could not be said of Donovan, my white-winged third eldest brother who claimed Western Europe. He smirked and draped himself over Crispin’s fleshy shoulder.
“See, Aaron? We didn’t come soon enough. The Tica girl is already dead, before we had a chance to play with her,” Donovan drawled. He dabbed a finger in his teacup and sucked on it. “Is this her blood, Crispin?”
Crispin chuckled uneasily. “She was cremated.”
Donovan’s vacant teal eyes locked on mine. “Of course. Crown Prince Khyber never shares. What was so special about that little girl who tempted a brideless vampyre? Was she a little changeling?”
When I stayed silent, his lip curled. “Whatever. One dead, lowly hapa girl tastes the same as any other.”
“Enough, Donovan,” Aaron said harshly, short dark beard twitching. He took another step toward me. It was impossible for the eye not to get drawn to his broadsword, the silver-encrusted scabbard tip of which touched the floor, a reminder that his strength was great enough to wield that heavy blade like a stick. His violet wings arched menacingly. “You know why we are here, Khyber. You must come home to Korea.”
My gaze bore into Crispin’s, allowing my disgust to settle over him until he looked elsewhere, uncomfortable with its weight. “Really, Crispin? You had to run crying to Mummy to make me leave?”
My brother folded his chubby arms. “I understand why you want to stay in the Americas, as it is the best of all the spheres, but it is mine!”
“Is it?” I smiled. “I would check how much of it still claims you, CEO Summers.”
“At least I have a dominion!” Crispin protested, green wings snapping up in anger. “You are the eldest of us all, and yet you just float around, anchorless, going from ‘Dylan’ to ‘Won’ to ‘Malachy’ to ‘Jinho’! Do you even remember your original Korean name?”
I ignored him, turning instead to Aaron and seeing the same weariness written in his eyes, the one place where our timelessness didn’t touch. There was no original name left, just as there was nothing left of me except for sarcastic taunts toward a world I couldn’t feel anymore. Crispin and Donovan still carried a spark of excitement to live out their twisted lives for; Aaron and I had already played the game in its various forms for so long that winning felt like losing.
“Two of the Twelve were here,” I said.
Aaron’s posture suddenly stiffened, hard and alert. “Which ones?”
“The Plague Lords.”
He sucked in his breath. I could hear Donovan’s jaw grind; he hated being ignored, and Crispin was too proud to admit his ignorance. I smiled and continued addressing Aaron: “If they have awakened, then the others may have as well.”
“You know as well as I,” Aaron said, “the Mother has made Eve a haven for the Dark Spirits. They amass in great numbers around her throne. Who knows if the Twelve’s servants lurk among them? They call upon the Mother with increasing frequency. You know what they want.” Aaron’s dark eyes flashed to mine. “If the Twelve are waking, then we also know why.”
Crispin puffed out his chest and extended a hand toward me. “Brother, we must present a united face to them.”
Donovan slapped Crispin’s peace offering down, disgusted. “Where are these two Plague Lords now?” he demanded of me.
I raised an eyebrow. “They are momentarily dispelled. Some lowly hapa girl fused with Nanaue and ate them.”
Donovan scowled. Aaron grinned and clapped me on the shoulder.
“Welcome back to the game.”
-
End of Changeling Sisters #1.5: Year of the Boar
~TICA~
Ready for your next Changeling Sisters adventure? Check out:
Year of the Wolf (Changeling Sisters I)
After they move to South Korea, sisters Citlalli and Raina Alvarez discover a mysterious spirit world and a supernatural war brewing to protect it.
Year of the Tiger (Changeling Sisters II)
The Alvarez sisters team up with Rafael and his shape-shifting friends to take down Queen Maya and her nightmarish Vampyre Court.
Available on all major online eBook retailors!
And make sure to add to your To-Read List 2015:
Year of the Dragon (Changeling Sisters III)
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Acknowledgements
I wish to thank God for blessing me with an amazing family and friends who inspire me every day with their kindness and compassion: Mom and Dad, Craig, Uncle Johnny, Aunt Belle, Aunt Nancy, Janae, Trisha, Greg Sr., Maria, and Cynthia. A special thanks goes to the Hawaiian Islands that I’ve been blessed to call home for the past few years, and to Greg, who showed me a different side to them. The fierce beauty of the islands reminds me that our time here will always be too short.
I am also very grateful for the advice of my friends and faculty in the Hawaiian community at the University of Hawai’i at Manoa on the Hawaiian language. Any mistakes are my own.
Glossary
Hawaiian Terms and Phrases
Disclaimer: Translation is approximate and in some cases only minimally describes certain Hawaiian terms and concepts.
A
‘Aina: The land.
Aloha: Used to convey love, welcome, or gratitude.
H
Hale: House.
Haole: Foreigner; commonly used to refer to a white person.
Huaka’i pō: “Nightmarchers.” Night procession of warrior ghosts. They are the topic of many urban legends, such as you must not look them in the eye or else they will take you—unless you have a deceased relative amongst them.
Humuhumunukunukuapua’a (humuhumu): Triggerfish with a snout like a pig. Hawai’i’s state fish.
K
Kuaihelani: Bridge land to the realm of the gods.
Kūkalahale: A wind in Honolulu.
M
Mahalo: Used as an expression of thanks, gratitude, admiration.
Makani: air movement, wind. There are many types of winds
.
Malo: A male’s loincloth.
Mamane: A rare native tree that grows at high altitudes on Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa. Its wood was used for tools or sleds.
Mauka: Directional term that means “mountain side” or “toward the mountain.”
O
‘Ohana: Family.
‘Ō’io: A silver bonefish.
‘Ōkole: Butt.
P
Pā’ū: A woman’s skirt, can be used for riding or dancing.
Poke: A dish often consisting of rice and sashimi-style fish, seasoned with soy sauce, sesame oil, limu seaweed, and chili pepper. Many variations.
Pua’a: Pig.
Pupuka: Ugly.
W
Wa’a kaulua: Double canoe.
Hawaiian Pidgin English Terms
Disclaimer: Translation is approximate.
B
Brah — Brother.
H
Hapa — Person of mixed blood, usually with Pacific Islander or Asian ancestry.
Howzit? — How’s it going?
L
Lolo — Crazy.
Lolo buggah — One crazy person.
M
Mako’s — Fictional surfing area on the west side of O’ahu.
Moke — A big tough local guy.
P
Pakalolo — Marijuana.
T
Talk stink: Trash talk behind someone’s back.
Tita — A big tough local chick.
Tutu — Term of affection for elders, usually grandparents.
S
Shaka — A hand gesture made by extending the thumb and pinkie while curling in your middle three fingers. Shake your hand a little to greet, convey general good will, or in surfer culture: hang loose.
Year of the Boar- Tica Page 14
