What had been almost three days Aboveground had felt like three years Within.
Keko had endured it because she believed she deserved it. She’d endured it because she’d resigned herself to her fate and wanted to spare Griffin the blame.
Until the moment when Aya had finally come to her, after being left so long alone in the dark, and told her that the chief wished to take Keko’s place.
At first Keko had refused, but then Aya had told her something extraordinary and confidential. “I want nothing more than for Griffin to lead the Senatus,” Aya had said, “and he needs you by his side to gain his seat.”
“He doesn’t need me for that,” Keko had replied. “He told me his goals have changed, that he wants to rethink things.” That had been difficult to realize, even harder to say. “And they won’t let him in now anyway.”
“The new Air delegate is progressive and open. I belong to humanity above the Children now, and I support Griffin’s ideas for integration. If your uncle is no longer the chief, if you return Aboveground and take his place, you will send him to serve his own punishment for the way he sabotaged you. You will also be able to help Griffin achieve what he wants by you leading the Chimerans, which you’ve always wanted to do anyway. As Senatus delegate you can vote Griffin in. Can’t you see? He needs what you can do for your people, Keko. He needs you.”
So with Griffin as the carrot, and her uncle’s shocking turnaround, Keko had finally agreed to the exchange.
Coming back to the surface, she didn’t know which was harder: the physical, claustrophobic travel within the Children’s magic; walking through the sea of her kinsmen and sensing their awe and wonder; or witnessing her once-beloved uncle being dragged Within, into hellish imprisonment.
She wondered if she’d ever find the strength to enter an enclosed space again.
When the sounds of the earth magic silenced and the shocked cries of the Chimerans died off, Keko finally opened her eyes. Her uncle was gone. So was Aya.
Griffin stood at the top of the terrace steps, his love in his eyes. He bore many new injuries, and she wondered and feared what had happened. She longed to go to him, but there were greater things she had to address first, and she reluctantly gave him her back.
Every single one of her kinsmen stared at her. Expectant. Unsure. Frightened. Hopeful. Wonderstruck.
When she’d risen from the earth, the Source magic had been returned to her, and again burned lovely and hot and immense in her chest. She’d missed it, and now it seemed to be responding to the gathered presence of her people.
The string attached to the Queen’s rock dug into her fingers, though the thing was not remotely heavy. She’d only ever looked at the rock, had never touched it, instead waiting for the day when she could wrap her hand around it as ali’i and feel its little sharp edges scrape the skin on her chest.
Lifting the necklace now to eye level, she let it dangle, looking into the cause and price and reward of her quest. Her day had finally come.
A Chimeran man, buried somewhere in the crush of the crowd, called out, “Ali’i! My ali’i!”
Someone else picked up the cry, then another, until it was one big long word being volleyed about from one end of the field to the other—a demand from her people to drape the necklace around her head and take what was hers. A unanimous show of support. She had not issued a formal challenge in the Chimeran sense, but in their eyes she’d already earned the position.
The necklace had been granted to her, her uncle had admitted to his wrongdoings, and she was Aboveground again. With Griffin.
Turning, she slowly went up the steps, the gown swaying against her lower legs. She trapped Griffin’s eyes with her own as she ascended toward him. She saw the pure emotion on his face and heard the echo of the three massive words he’d said before the earth and Aya had taken her away.
Stretching out a hand, she touched his face, fire against water. Her power sparked blue-white against his skin, and the crowd gasped. Griffin gave her a beautiful smile and reached out to touch her in return.
His cool palm pressed over the glow on her chest, and the Source inside her hummed from the counterpresence of his magic. She smiled back at him, for all her people to see.
Then she stepped away and went to the balustrade, to the spot in which her uncle had stood so many times over the years to address the people. The cries of “ali’i” only got stronger. She had expected this. And since she’d been eleven years old, she’d wanted this.
So it was in a sort of dreamlike state that she raised both palms to the crowd and said into the ensuing silence, “I am Kekona Kalani. And I am not your ali’i.”
A rumble of confusion swept through the Chimerans, which quickly shifted to a thunder of near outrage. Griffin stood too far to one side and she couldn’t see his reaction, but she knew without having to witness it how those thick eyebrows she loved so much were drawn together. How he was probably positioning himself closer to protect her from an angry mob.
There would be no need.
Lifting her palms and voice even higher, she added, “I am Kekona Kalani. And I . . . am your Queen!”
This time the response came on a delay. A delay filled with a great gush of air, the collective intake of breath, followed by a rousing, deafening roar. The space above the Chimeran heads became dotted with bursts of jubilant flame, and the earth seemed to vibrate again, this time from the force of thousands of stamping feet.
One person remained still, however, and it was to her brother she turned. Bane wore the same reverent look he’d given her on that rainy coastal road when he’d first seen the Source inside her. Only now it was paired with a smile. When she nodded to him, he gave her a deep bow in response.
“I bear the Queen’s treasure,” she said when the whoops and flames had died down, “and I share it with you. I am Chimeran, made of powerful blood from across the sea and magic gifted from the heavens. I am Chimeran, and I know honor, for I’ve lived under its rules all my life. I know what it means to be worthy, and I know why we fight for such recognition every day.”
A new set of cheers went up.
“I can picture myself standing among you, either in the front line as your former general, and also at the far back, as someone who once misled you and had to pay the price. I have been in every place within Chimeran society. I know what it means to abuse power, to fight for yourself, to accept punishment, and also to learn from it. That is what I bring you. An eye and a mind shaped and formed by each and every one of you, and I promise you that because of this, I will forever be accessible.”
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.