“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.