Breathing hurt. Namaka’s lungs felt charred. Her skin and scales bled from dozens of ruptures, even as she dragged herself back toward the beach. Blinking, Namaka took in devastation as complete as anything they had wrought in Uluka‘a.
Despite her intention to find a truce with Pele, despite even managing to work together to destroy the taniwha, still her treacherous sister had turned on her. And unleashed this.
And Hi‘iaka!
Groaning, Namaka resumed her legs and crawled along the beach to where a form lay motionless. A young girl.
No.
No, no, no, this was not happening. Not her too …
Grunting with the effort and leaving a trail of blood behind her, Namaka made her way to Hi‘iaka’s side. The girl’s eyes were closed. Namaka laid her head upon her sister’s chest.
No heartbeat.
She had done it. The fear that held back all heirs of Haumea. Hi‘iaka had burned through so much of her Mana it had snuffed out her very life.
Namaka couldn’t make herself rise. Couldn’t do anything save lay there, head on the girl’s chest, moaning.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
She’d come back here to make peace.
This was not supposed to have happened.
* * *
Namaka looked up at the uncertain footsteps approaching. Pele, leaning on … Kapo? They were together?
Namaka had tried to rest, to regain her strength, but it would probably be some time before she could manage any real control over the waters again. The Mana she had drawn from Milolii was gone forever, and her own had yet to replenish itself. Spending time near the sea would help with that, of course.
She couldn’t fight the both of them at the moment, nor had she ever truly understood the extent of Kapo’s powers. If they intended to kill her, she might not be able to stop them.
She pushed herself onto unsteady feet and fixed a glare upon Pele. “Our sister is dead because of your betrayal.”
“Dead?” Pele’s voice was a squeak, thick with disbelief, eyes wide and seeming as if she was having a hard time seeing.
Kapo eased herself away from Pele and moved to stand between Namaka and Pele. “Is there not more than enough blame to go around for all you have both done? Can either of you truly believe yourselves not responsible for all this death and destruction?”
“Dead?” Pele repeated. “She can’t …”
“You did this,” Namaka snapped.
“Both of you, stop,” Kapo commanded, jabbing a finger in Hi‘iaka’s direction. “This is what your war has come to. A dead child on a smoldering beach.”
Namaka winced, shaking her head. Kapo was right. They had ruined Sawaiki nearly as much as they had ruined Uluka‘a. Now that she was, in a sense, Nyi Rara as well as Namaka, she felt an irresistible calling back to her other people. And the mer would always be her people now.
Maybe there was nothing left to do here.
Maybe she should flee the surface forever.
“You cannot fix all that has gone on,” Kapo said. “But there is a small chance you can fix this. You did it before, the two of you, working together.”
“Did what?” Pele asked.
“What did Maui seek?”
Namaka looked up abruptly. “The Waters of Life. There were three springs. One in Uluka‘a, which is gone. One at some unknown location …”
“And one in Sawaiki,” Pele finished. “He died in Sawaiki seeking the Waters of Life.”
“One more truce,” Kapo said. “Let the two of you work together and find the spring. Save your little sister before her soul is lost in Pō.”
Namaka looked to Pele. This woman had taken so very much from her. But Kapo was right. The only time anyone had ever found the Waters of Life before was when the two of them worked together.
It was a chance they would have to take.
Maybe their last chance.