Makaha had lived in shame for three years and this was his sole chance for redemption.
Griffin slowly descended the stone steps to the worn grass. He was beaten down physically and emotionally. Keko was trapped somewhere in a prison beneath his feet, in desperate need of help. And now he had to fight this man? Who had two inches and at least thirty pounds on him?
“How did you know I was here?”
Makaha separated from the pack, speaking low enough for only Griffin to hear. At least there was that. “I saw movement up on the slope. That’s Keko’s spot. I hoped it was her since I’ve been worried, so I went to look. I saw you coming down.”
This man had once been Keko’s friend, as Griffin recalled. If only he could tell Makaha about Keko—why she’d left the valley in the first place, all that she’d done and sacrificed, and the danger she was in now—there was the slight chance the warrior might stand down. But Griffin couldn’t, and Makaha had his Chimeran pride.
Makaha pointed the stump of his arm at Griffin and raised his voice. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt any pain in this.” He made a fist with his one hand. “Or this.”
“Soldier to warrior,” Griffin said, “I thought you were attacking me. I am truly sorry.”
The Chimerans murmured.
Makaha grinned, but not in pleasure. “Apologies mean nothing in this valley.”
Griffin longed to shout, I can’t fight you now. She needs help. We are wasting time.
The faces of the other Chimerans were not mocking, but intensely curious. Perhaps even a bit excited. He did not know if that was because Makaha had challenged an Ofarian who’d inexplicably infiltrated their valley, or if their warrior natures just wanted to see a fight.
“You don’t have to take it.”
Griffin looked up to find Bane had come silently to his side. Makaha said nothing. Because he couldn’t in front of the general, his superior.
“Makaha is lower than you,” Bane said, his eyes on the warrior. “The challenge is yours to accept or deny.”
“What will happen if I don’t?”
“Nothing.”
Nothing. Exactly. Makaha would remain where he was. Where he’d been stuck for the past three years.
Griffin knew, without a doubt, that if Keko were here, she would approve of this challenge. She’d likely stand with the crowd and cheer on her friend instead of her lover—because Griffin had nothing to lose and Makaha had everything to gain.
Griffin nodded at Bane to come over to the side. “The Children have taken Keko,” he murmured to the general, and he watched Bane struggle to hide his anger and sadness. “It was her choice, but we don’t have to accept it. There’s no time for this.”
Bane crossed his arms over his chest, jaw clenching around the questions he couldn’t ask and the heartfelt reaction he couldn’t give. “I can’t interfere with the old ways. The challenge has been made to you. It’s your decision.”
Griffin started to walk back to Makaha, ready to accept. Ready to throw the fight and get it done within record time. Bane, however, snatched Griffin’s arm, fingers biting in. He bent his head, leaned in close to Griffin. His voice was rough as a thundercloud. “If you accept, you accept it all. You will insult him if you do not fight to the best of your ability.” A heavy pause. “You will insult her, too.”
Makaha stood, proud and fierce. As Griffin approached him, the crowd of Chimerans shifted, widening out to make space. Preparing.
“When does it end?” Griffin asked.
Makaha shrugged. “When it ends.”
Griffin drew a breath, shoring up his strength, grateful he hadn’t used magic in well over a day and that he’d drifted off for a time on the back terrace of the chief’s house waiting for Keko to heal her people.
She hadn’t slept at all, he thought numbly. She must be exhausted . . .
He shook thoughts of her from his head, because if he was to give Makaha his all, he had to focus. “No magic,” Griffin said.
Another ripple of murmurs from the Chimerans. In the distance, he could see more folk flowing from their homes up on the slopes, coming down to the meadow to watch.
Makaha glanced meaningfully down at his half arm. “No magic.”
Griffin nodded. “So what—”
The fist that smashed into his face took away words and replaced them with blinding agony. Griffin stumbled backward, knocked off balance. The Chimerans scurried out of his way, enlarging the circle. Letting him trip and fall to the ground.
No cheers for Makaha. Just silence, the intermittent nod of a head as the Chimerans seemed to be assessing what was going on, evaluating.
The only sounds were of Makaha’s breathing and the final fade of Griffin’s pained moan. Then Makaha’s bare feet on the earth as he rushed forward again.
So that’s how this fight was going to be.
Griffin pushed to his feet, righting his vision and shoving aside the humiliation over having fallen to a sucker punch. He faced Makaha’s charge, forgetting about any weakness still lingering, forgetting about the stars that blinked at his periphery, forgetting about anything but giving this challenge his all.
Griffin ducked another left throw and didn’t hesitate to slam a one-two into Makaha’s midsection, knowing that the other guy couldn’t do the same. But Bane had told him not to pull up, and if Keko were here she’d tell him the same thing.
Makaha couldn’t punch with his right, but he could, however, pummel Griffin with his half arm, the strikes coming down in between kicks and jabs.
The fight seemed to go on forever, but then, that’s usually how they felt even when they lasted only a few minutes. Makaha was brutal and relentless, so that’s exactly how Griffin retaliated. Each punch thrown stole as much energy as the advantage it gained. Each blow received sapped more of his strength, until nothing but sheer will kept him upright.
Griffin was fading, all his tumultuous days in Hawaii throwing him into a tornado until he no longer knew which way was up. He could feel the swelling of his face and body, the blood oozing, the muscles aching, the strength seeping out.
The last thing Griffin felt was Makaha’s great left fist driving an uppercut into his chin. And the last thing he saw was the brilliant blue Hawaiian sky before it zoomed down and suddenly, instantly, transformed into night.
• • •
Aya did not know how to process all that she’d just witnessed and the barrage of strange, new human emotions that came with it. The Ofarian man, the one in which she saw such great promise, had just attacked that Chimeran warrior, freezing off half his arm.
The whole thing was wretched. Ugly. No one seemed to want to listen to anyone else. There was shouting and physical fighting. She did not understand any of it. She just knew she wanted to scream.
Then the Ofarian had been driven away, dragging many of her hopes behind him in the mud.
Aya plunged deeper into the Utah woods, wrapping her cloak of twigs tighter around her body. The night was black and moonless, as she always insisted upon for a gathering, and she still had a short distance to walk before she was well enough away from the Senatus to return Within. All she had to do was cross that frozen stream and she’d find her secluded spot.
Someone was sitting on a boulder next to the iced-over water.
Aya almost ran into her, her clothing and skin and hair were so dark. The woman spun, coming to her feet remarkably fast in a defensive pose, then settled when she saw it was only Aya.