Drowning in Fire

by Hanna Martine

  Another cheer, this one loudest in the far back. She looked but could not find Makaha.

  “The truth is,” she went on, “we all have weaknesses. We all have strengths. But our mistakes are our own. It’s my wish that as I take you into a new age of Chimeran culture that we accept that, and try to find new ways to evaluate how we judge others.” She lowered her arms at last.

  “I can picture myself standing among you right now,” she repeated, “staring up at this house at someone who challenged death by going after the Source and returning with such ancient, pure magic. I know what I would feel. I would look up here with the same awe as you are now. I would shout in the same way. And even though I would look upon the glow of magic with a stab of jealousy, I would recognize that that Chimeran is not a deity. Not infallible. I would know that she was given this gift to help her people grow, not to snatch governmental power and take over the running of this valley.”

  A few people glanced at each other questioningly. Bane folded his arms across his chest.

  “I said that I am not ali’i, because I am not. But I do think we need one. I think we need someone to lead this particular clan and make important decisions I cannot or will not. My goal is to help all Chimerans, to bring the islands together and better our way of life, and I can’t be the Big Island’s ali’i for that. We need someone to guide our warriors and be the emissary between clans on the other islands. Someone to counsel me, and someone I can counsel in turn.” She thrust out the lava rock necklace over the balustrade, the stone swaying in the wind. “Who wants it?” she cried, scanning the crowd. “Who is worthy of it?”

  Two men came forward.

  Bane immediately pulled out of the front line, shoulders thrown back, to the chorus of enthusiastic support from his warriors and most of the population. That was to be expected, though Keko had deliberately not looked at him as she’d made the call.

  Then, from his place all the way in the back, parting the crowd with a gentle hand so he could get through, came Makaha.

  He looked beaten up, but also empowered and confident, and she finally figured out the reasons behind Griffin’s new cuts and bruises. It had been a fair challenge, it seemed, and her Chimeran friend now felt vindicated for his disfigurement.

  Keko let her lip quiver, let her eyes glimmer with happiness and pride for the friend she’d once been forbidden to talk to—the disgraced friend now vying to be ali’i.

  Bane and Makaha came to stand side by side just below the terrace, and Keko looked down on them without judgment. She knew the people were expecting her to choose one, that as Queen she held that kind of authority. Maybe she did, but there was something to be said for upholding the old culture while adapting it to new thinking and modern ways. She had every right, for instance, to send the unworthy Makaha back into the crowd.

  Instead she lifted the necklace high into the air and declared, “There shall be a challenge!”

  The people’s voices surged in support. Bane and Makaha turned to one another, Makaha looking pumped and ready, Bane perhaps even more so. When Makaha thumped his chest in a salute to his competitor, he used his stump of an arm. Bane gave it the sparest of glances, as if to say he would give no quarter for a disabled warrior. Makaha smiled as if to say he was glad for that.

  Keko raised her arm to call for silence and the Chimerans obeyed almost immediately. “Tomorrow,” she said. “Tomorrow at sunrise on the meadow the challenge to be ali’i will take place.”

  Bane and Makaha separated and went back into the crowd.

  Keko entwined the stone necklace around her fingers and moved slowly to the staircase opening, pondering her next words. She could not look at Griffin. Not yet. There was so much to say to him, and just as much for her to hear. But not here. Not now.

  When she got to the top of the steps, the whole of the population could see her, head to foot, wearing the strange, enchanted gown Keko had insisted upon and that Aya had created Within. The gown made of not one, but thousands of little lava rocks.

  She stood there, silent, until she commanded the attention of every single Chimeran on that field. With a meaningful glance at the bulge in the dirt where her uncle had last been seen, she lifted her chin and began a speech she hadn’t realized she’d needed or wanted to give.

  “If I am to be your Queen, there will be no lies. No disguises. No cover-ups. I give you myself, faults and all. I want to tell you something, and if after I tell you it changes how you feel, whether or not you want me as your Queen, I will accept it. Because I am Chimeran above all and I understand you.”

  At last she turned her head to find Griffin. His eyes were filled with such high regard she was sure that even if her people physically threw her out of this valley, she would find a refuge with him, a place where she would always be welcome.

  He gave her a barely perceptible nod and it infused her with confidence.

  “I carry a part of the Source within me,” she said, facing her people again, “but I did not go alone. Griffin Aames was with me. Though I found the Queen’s prayer as told in the legends, I am not the one who deciphered the Source’s location. Griffin’s knowledge of the stars guided us there.” She licked her lips. “And I am not the one who dove into the earth and touched the Source itself. Griffin did, using his water magic. He risked his life to bring me the power that would cure my uncle. Because if I’d gone in—if any Chimeran had gone in—that volcano would have been a thousand times worse. And I would not have come out.”

  Complete silence fell over the crowd. Absolute stillness. No one so much as blinked or glanced at their neighbor. All eyes were upon her and she couldn’t read a single one of them.

  “I am telling you this,” she said, “because I see the way you look up at me, like I am the old Queen incarnate. I am not. I am not perfect, and I did not complete a perfect quest. I did not challenge the earth and the Source, and I did not win a terrible battle with my own two hands. I had help from someone who believed in me and my purpose, and I could not have found the cure without him. I am not ashamed of this, because I think to admit you need someone else and accept their help is the greatest vulnerability and the most admirable trait to have.” She cleared her throat and edged her toes toward the very top step. “If you do not find me worthy to lead anymore, if you do not want me to be Queen after knowing this, I will understand.”

  She knew her people, and she fully expected that to happen. So she held her breath and waited.

  A man in the very front row went to one knee. He was an older warrior, one aged out of the ranks but still well respected, and it took him a little while to do so, but he finally got his other knee to bend and shift behind his body. When he was on both knees, he thumped two fists to his chest and spoke the old Chimeran word for Queen.

  The name hovered over the meadow, glittering like diamond smoke.

  Keko stared at this man, blinking over and over, until the vision of that one man shifted to a hallucination of hundreds more Chimerans doing exactly the same thing. With a shake of her head she realized it was no hallucination. It was real. Thousands of her people followed suit, their knees hitting the ground and Queen a reverent whisper on their lips. An ocean of Chimerans rolled away from the ali’i’s house as they all kneeled.

  Every single one of them devoted themselves to her. Every single one stated their belief in her . . . and her connection to her Ofarian.

  Then Griffin was behind her, his hands sliding up the length of her arms. He pressed a kiss to the top of her shoulder. Forget the sight of thousands of Chimerans showing their fealty, that kiss was true love.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  The center of the meadow was on fire. Sheets of gold and orange flames blazed in a perfect circle and stretched for the stars, contained by the collective magic of the people who feasted and danced and kissed around it. Tonight the lights in the homes along the slopes were all dark, as every Chimeran on
the Big Island filled the valley floor, all trying to have their moment with their new Queen. To hear her story again and again.

  For many, a glimpse was enough to fill themselves with the wonder of her, of the sight of their pure magic living inside her. Griffin did not understand that. A glimpse would never be enough for him.

  As he stood by her side and observed her people celebrating in her name, he knew that she and this place had become a part of him—a part he was not willing to give up.

  They’d both cleaned themselves up as much as possible, though the removal of several layers of dirt and dried blood just called out the extent of their injuries and wounds. As they’d dressed, they’d told the stories behind each one. She’d listened, enraptured, as he’d recounted, blow by blow, the challenge with Makaha.

  Keko’s back was a mess of scratches and bruises, and the small wrap top that covered only her breasts bared without shame the deep, slanted wound Nem had given her.

  Griffin thought she’d never looked more beautiful.

  The bonfire raged without fuel or attendance, and Keko led him around it, introducing him to families and warriors, kids and cooks. No one wore anything fancier than shorts and T-shirts, the only adornment being fresh flowers around necks and tucked behind ears. The food was remarkably fresh and simple—all raised and grown in the valley—and Griffin continued to eat long after he was uncomfortable.

  Well into the night, he realized that Bane had been lingering behind them, far enough away that it wasn’t immediately obvious, but close enough to make it clear that he was watching out for his sister. That he was guarding his Queen.

  Griffin itched to talk to him, to pull him aside and have an hours-long conversation about being a Chimeran male and warrior, about the culture. About Keko and their young life together. Then Keko would touch Griffin’s hand or back, magnetizing him to her again, and Griffin knew that he would have plenty of time for Bane later.

  The party was at its height, a jubilant scene filled with drink and dance, set to the beat of drums and the laughter of half-naked children, when the bonfire suddenly diminished. It didn’t die but the top of the flames collapsed, shrinking, and when the crowd swiveled toward the center to see who had killed part of the sustaining magic, Ikaika was standing on a picnic table.

  Beside Griffin, Keko stiffened, sliding away from his touch.

  Ikaika found Keko—she was difficult to miss in the dark now—and gave her a long, warm look of clear gratitude. Once he’d captured every Chimeran’s attention, their murmurs of curiosity arrowing up to him, Ikaika reached behind his neck, grabbed the back of his shirt, and pulled it forward over his head.

  The dance of the fire played across his bare chest. The black mark of Keko’s hand was unmistakable.

  The Chimerans reacted, surprise in their sounds, their hands covering their mouths.

  “The Queen cured me, too,” Ikaika said, his voice carrying easily in the hush. He stood on the bench of the table, one leg propped on the top. “Tonight I’ve been hearing many of you curse our former ali’i, discrediting all he’s done because he lied. Because he lost his fire.”

  Griffin glanced at Keko, who was watching Ikaika with shining pride in her eyes.

  “The ali’i did not tell you that he was not the only one struck by this disease because he wanted to protect Chimerans like me from dishonor, but I’m here to say—even though I have no right, I know—that I feel no shame. I once lost my fire, but then the Queen brought it back and I am not disgraced. I consider myself blessed. And nothing any of you will do or say against me will change that.”

  Keko’s breath hitched.

  Someone moved within the crowd. Griffin turned his head, expecting to see Bane heading for Ikaika. But it wasn’t. It was a woman Griffin didn’t know, a woman younger than he, with a baby on her hip. She went right up to the picnic table and lifted her face to Ikaika. He blinked down at her, unsure, then she extended her hand to him in silence. After a moment, he tugged her up to stand on the bench beside him. The baby gurgled in her arms.

  Slowly, one-handed, the woman unbuttoned her shirt and folded it back, revealing Keko’s handprint.

  “I, too, am blessed,” she said.

  Amazement rippled through the crowd—amazement that only increased as more and more Chimerans approached the table. Twenty-two of them covered the table, surrounded it, exposing their marks that, mere days ago, would have brought them scorn.

  They stood there, of all ages and abilities, daring with their resolute expressions any Chimeran to knock them down. None did.

  Though Griffin was not Chimeran he sensed the distinct shift in their thoughts. In the building blocks of their culture. It was powerful stuff, made of something more than magic, more than history. It was change and progress, and it was scary and necessary and uplifting all at once.

  He wanted to touch Keko, to tell her with his hands and mouth that he was proud of her, that he would stand next to or behind her—wherever she wanted—as she guided her people.

  Every Chimeran looked to her now. They were expecting her to make a grand speech like she had on the steps of the old chief’s house, to rouse them with words, but instead she just placed a hand over her own chest, her fingers a dark silhouette against the gentle blue-white of her skin, and simply said, “You are.”

  The entire valley took a joyful breath.

  Then Keko snatched a cup of something she’d otherwise avoided her whole life, and took a grand swig that made her cough and sputter in a most human, self-deprecating way.

  “Stop staring at me,” she said through a watery smile, “and drink!”

  The drums started up again but were quickly drowned out by a stirring cheer. The clan spun back into motion, and it seemed as though couples paired off quickly and easily. Mouths and bodies came together in passionate kisses and embraces, firelight dancing over the movement. Joy and release permeated everything, so sweet Griffin could taste it.

  At the picnic table, the man who’d begun this scene stepped down. A curvy woman with black hair brushing her hips was waiting for him, watching him with revelation. Ikaika opened his arms and she came into them. When he broke the clutch, he tilted her head back and kissed her.

  Griffin, surprised and confused, touched Keko’s arm and nodded toward Ikaika. Keko saw the male and female couple and sighed. “Yeah,” she said. “It’s a little complicated.”

  Bane stood nearby, pointedly not watching Ikaika, his jaw tense, his eyes dark.

  “They came together one night a couple of years ago. Everyone knew about that. It’s not unusual here. But it kept going on in secret, even though Ikaika is partnered. I only know because I caught them. I don’t know how Bane deals with it.”

  Not well, apparently.

  She threaded her fingers through his and the simple touch ignited him. He didn’t have to think about the countermagic. His water and her fire knew each other now. Instinctual. Complementary. Spellbinding.

  “Come with me.” As she tugged at him her voice was soft, her expression full of meaning.

  “Shouldn’t you stay?” He was thinking of the Ofarians, of course, how he was expected to do certain things at certain times. How he was supposed to act in a very specific, formal way and offend no one by neither speech nor action.

  With a playful wrinkle of her nose, she grinned at the crowd. “I think they’ll be just fine on their own.”

  Griffin did a double take as he caught sight of a man who’d backed a woman against a tree and had his hand beneath her skirt, right in front of everyone. “Wow. Turned sexual pretty quick.”

  “And you’re surprised? Considering how we met?”

  The scene in the parking garage, how she’d practically eaten him with her eyes. Her sexuality right there for him to feast upon. It had scared him at first, that openness. Then it had fascinated him.

  She chuckled, anot
her tug on his arm. “This is nothing. It’s not even an ume.”

  “A . . . what?”

  “So much to teach you. Picture this, a hundred times more sexual. A lot of people. Out in the open. Sharing. It’s how Bane and Ikaika first met.”

  All he could do was blink at her.

  “I’m going to break open that stiff and proper Ofarian mind of yours yet.” Her chuckle rolled into a full-on laugh and at last he allowed himself to be pulled away from the party.

  “Where are we going?” It was dark outside the fire circle and he’d lost his bearings. “I want to see your house. The one you told me about with the hammock and the door that looks out over the valley.”

  Her fingers tightened in his but she didn’t reply. She found a narrow dirt path that cut through an overgrown sweep of some sort of native Hawaiian plant, and led him up a small rise. When they came out of the brush and the moonlight struck the long, low white building, Griffin understood where she’d brought him.

  “That house I told you about?” she said. “It’s not really mine anymore. But neither is this place. I want to tear it down, send the people who live here back to their families. Where they belong.”

  Griffin pulled her into him, her whole length flush with his body. The Source was a second heartbeat against him and he loved it.

  “I think you’re amazing,” he said, touching her face. She reached up to mirror his movement, her fingers skating over the small burn on his temple. “So where are we sleeping tonight?”

  “I never said anything about sleeping.”

  • • •

  In the morning, under a rolling, cloudy sky and amidst the remnants of last night’s celebration, Bane and Makaha faced off.

  Keko stood far to the side, well away from the action, knowing that the ali’i position at stake was going to make this a challenge for the ages. Her baser Chimeran instincts longed for this, to see what the warriors would bring. Bane, always aggressive, always skillful, would be a force. And just last night he’d been forced to watch his lover with another. He’d always successfully used emotion to enhance his battles. But Makaha owned his namesake ferocity; he had something serious to prove and was coming fresh off a defeat of Griffin.