“Chief?” prompted the premier.
In the span of his pause, the chief drew two breaths, neither of which brought forth fire. “I agree with what you think is best.” He bowed his head, and Griffin could not read his face.
The premier came toe to toe with Griffin, his voice low and authoritative. “If you find Kekona Kalani and bring her to me before she finds the Source, before she causes any more trouble for any of our races, I will know you have the Senatus’s interests at heart. If you do this, you will win your seat among us.”
FOUR
Away from the dispersing Senatus, after retreating deep into the darkness of the old-growth forest, Aya folded herself back into the earth. With an aching sense of loss, she let go of her human body and merged her being with the land, returning to the true form of a Daughter of Earth. The borders between Aboveground and Within blurred and then disappeared.
It was getting harder and harder to do. One day she’d no longer be able to transform back and forth like this. But she’d made her choice, and she gladly lived with it.
Through rock and dirt and clay she rolled. Around and under and through a great maze of roots and aquifers, she sent herself digging. She knew the layout of Within as well as the minute details of her human skin, and she followed the striations in the earth like a road map. She searched for her home, hidden in the earth’s crust by the planet’s oldest magic. There. She found it, burrowing faster and faster to reach it. The feel of the earth around her was beginning to suffocate and press in.
She couldn’t wait to be free. She couldn’t wait to live in a house, with windows that allowed in the breeze, and windows that permitted light, and a door that let her come and go easily and of her own accord.
With a final push, she thrust herself through the walls of her abode. The rock and clay opened, ate her, then spit her into the small, open space beyond. Her body was made of quartz and minerals, sand and magic, and it landed unceremoniously in the center of her doorless cave.
Though she’d just been human, and the transformation into Daughter of Earth had sapped much of her energy, she reached for her human form again. Pushed away the parts of her that belonged solely to the earth. The golden brown skin she loved smoothed out the hard angles of rock. Proud white hair tickled her shoulders. She curled onto her side on the clay floor, her short legs pulled up to her chest.
As her evolving human lungs expanded, she gasped for air. Always this shock, the first time breathing Within. The constant trickle of oxygen was just enough to sustain human life, and also just enough to be torture. It was meant to remind the Children of their original forms. It was meant to remind them that humanity and the Children had once been one being.
All it did was reinforce Aya’s belief that she well and truly belonged Aboveground.
Normally it only took a short time for her to become accustomed to the dense, dark surroundings, but now she couldn’t seem to take a steady breath. She was coughing, choking. Then something scraped down her cheek and landed with a plink in the clay, then another and another, and she realized she was crying.
Her tears solidified as they escaped, turning into tiny, rough diamonds. So many. Until she was surrounded by their glitter and could take no human joy from them.
This must be what betrayal felt like.
It had been only months since she’d last seen Keko, since the two women had last propped their feet up on a rock by a wintry mountain stream and spoke haltingly of things that the Chimeran woman probably found mundane but that Aya thought of as fascinating. Cars and ice cream and games, and those soft things you pulled over your toes when they were cold. Keko always made Aya smile with her frank descriptions and honest opinions. Especially when it came to men.
The last time they met, shortly after Keko’s rescue in Colorado and right before her war against the Ofarians was called off, she’d finally spoken to Aya about Griffin. Even though Keko’s words had been harsh, the expression on her face had been wistful and soft, and it was crystal clear to Aya—even though she was still learning about human emotions—how the Chimeran woman truly felt about that Ofarian man.
Over the years, since their first chance meeting in the forest the night Griffin had maimed that Chimeran warrior, Aya had come to relish their sporadic, solitary talks. Keko must have, too, because she often sought out Aya after Senatus gatherings. Though Keko was not human, she’d managed to teach Aya much about humanity and Aboveground.
And now Aya had sentenced her first true friend to die.
Another great shudder wracked her body. For a moment she doubted her choice to evolve because humanity hurt far too much. Then she forced herself to think of Keko, who loathed self-pity, and pushed herself up to sit.
It was going to be all right, she told herself. Griffin was going after Keko. Griffin would find her and bring her back safely. Griffin would keep the Source intact.
And Griffin would win a seat among the Senatus, laying grounds for Aya’s supreme plan—a plan with which the Father would never agree.
She’d been sly, just now before the premier, to make him think she was on his side. Just like how sneaky she had to be to make the Father think she still agreed with him and the ways of the Children.
So much duplicity. If she were caught before her evolution into human was complete, she would face the ultimate punishment. Something worse than death.
Please, Griffin, she silently begged. Find Keko and bring her back. Appeal to her heart, because I know that deep down, hers belongs to you.
A crack splintered open the cave wall. Aya rolled unsteadily to her feet, kicking dirt and clay over the diamond tears to disguise them. A tiny glowing root pushed its way through the short crack, pulsing with an energy she knew intimately and had once loved more than her own life.
Daughter. The Father’s wordless voice emanated from the root. Come to me and report.
• • •
Brave Queen. Good Queen. Mighty Queen. Show me your secrets. Grant me redemption. Make me worthy. Help me earn back my name. Guide me to help our people. Above all, award me mana, your spiritual power.
Each word matched the beats of Keko’s heels as they struck the moist earth. Each syllable made a prayer. Each footstep moved her closer to her fate. Her faith guided her.
At the end of this road, even death would be a prize worth winning, because the people who had shunned her would know what she’d tried to do, how she’d attempted something as significant as becoming the Queen herself. If death came, Keko’s name would be spoken with breathless wonder and respect.
If she lived, she would lead. If she lived, she would hear words of admiration with her own ears and see awe with her own eyes, and she would know that she’d earned it.
Keko had been walking northwest through the coastal rainforests near Hilo, Hawaii for nearly two days. She slept through the cool, rainy nights curled up against trees, protected by the arch of massive leaves. She drank from streams and pools, and nibbled on the food she’d stolen from the stronghold before sneaking away under the cover of night. She avoided lights and Primary homes and civilization, sticking to the remote natural areas.
She wanted her actions to match the Queen’s as closely as possible. No Primaries. No modern conveniences or roads. No assistance. Only heart and determination. Only love for Chimeran magic, Chimeran ancestry. When Keko came into the Queen’s legacy, she would touch the Source clean. Absolved.