Chapter Eight

 

Pele shook her head at the sight at my fatigued body, weary from exertion. “We will resume your training first thing tomorrow morning.” She turned to leave.

A sudden thought bloomed in my head. I blurted a weak, “Wait!”

She paused long enough for me to ask, “A long time ago in Pompeii, Gaia disclosed that I was the embodiment of the element, Fire…and that if I perished, she would find a replacement. I have to know, was she speaking the truth?”

Pele said nothing for a long time. Finally, she admitted, “It is true. You were chosen for your resilience and your empathy toward others.”

Without waiting to contemplate why the Fire Element perceived resilience and empathy desirable, I dared, “And if I died…?”

“The Fire Element would select a different being to embody.”

“So Hydros is not truly gone,” I stated glumly. “Even though I destroyed her, the Water Element will soon find another person to take her place. That’s what Gaia meant. There would always be another.”

Pele nodded. Guilt and confusion filled my soul. All this time, I thought I helped save innocent lives by removing Hydros from this world. Instead, the Water Element would soon manifest itself as a new threat.

The cycle would never end. My eyes drifted to the ground with the knowledge I’d never be safe. That I’d never lead a normal life.

Pele folded her hands together. “The Four Elements of Earth, Air, Water, and Fire have existed for all time, even before time itself. Each chose to fuse with a being to protect the planet from a future threat.”

“But if Gaia’s supposed to protect the planet, why is she so destructive? Why won’t she leave me alone?”

“In time, child. I promise you will understand the full truth in time. For now, I need you to rest. Tomorrow we will continue your training so you may learn more about the past.”

“The past?” My brow wrinkled in confusion.

“Rest now,” she ordered and rose to her feet. Outlined in fire, Pele’s silhouette glowed against the black night sky.

I buried my face in the palms of my hands, my fatigued body pushed to its limit as my brain struggled to grasp the underlying message behind her obscure remarks. But when I looked up to see if she might clarify her intent and help ease my mind, her form had already vanished.

Great. Alone again, I thought with a great dose of sarcasm. Frustrated, I dragged myself from my spot and struggled to set up the tent. The poles refused to cooperate with my wearied hands, so I settled for a lopsided, unsymmetrical version of a shelter and crawled inside, my body drugged with utter exhaustion. Tears stung my eyes. Why wouldn’t Pele tell me what I wanted to know? Why must she dodge my questions, only providing the most basic of facts and hide the rest until later? Couldn’t she see that I’d never be able to do this? That I’d never measure up to her expectations or meet her lofty goals?

If only I had a friend here, I could release some of the pressure from my burdened shoulders, talking late into the long, dark night. Instead, I found myself surrounded with unfamiliar sounds of nature and the steady clash of waves against the rocky shore. The lack of man-made noise reminded me of just how much I missed Sully…and how much I regretted our last conversation. I never had a chance to apologize before I left with Lulu to find Pele. And now, I couldn’t say when I’d get another opportunity to speak to him.

The solitude soon grated on my nerves. Back in Pacifica, Sully and Micah would hang out in the basement for hours, playing their video game, Zombie Dominion. But here, I felt entirely disconnected to the outside world. Alone on a vast field of lava, uncertain of what tomorrow might bring.

I heard a pawing at my tent flap, making me instantly regret my desire for other sounds beyond the breaking waves. My heart leapt up my throat, uncertain of what types of large mammals lived out here. Could it be a wild pig or a goat? Would they even venture out to this desolate spot? The pawing grew louder, accompanied by a shallow whimpering sound. I suppressed a shudder and slowly unzipped the tent flap to peek outside.

In front of my door stood a fairly large, white furry creature. Its mouth opened into a characteristic grin.

“Kea,” I said with a smile, reenergized by her company—even if she couldn’t talk back to me. “How are you, girl?” I asked and waved for her to join me, leaving the zipper open a bit for her in case she wanted to leave before I woke. Panting happily, she plopped down on my sleeping bag. I petted her soothing fur and scratched her behind the ear. “What’d you do after you left me?”

She gave an audible yawn.

Probably slept most of the time in the shade. She quickly drifted off, but my mind couldn’t relax. Grateful for company, conscious or not, I launched into a lengthy story about my hesitation and worry until exhaustion eventually overcame me.

“Time to move over,” I told Kea and pushed her aside to crawl into my sleeping bag.

Only she had no intention of budging. With a final yawn, the dog curled up into a white, fluffy ball, smack in the middle of my soft sleeping bag, her tail tucked neatly over her nose.

“Kea!” I scolded. I grabbed a corner of the bag to pull out from under her dozing form.

Though she didn’t open her eyes, her disapproval emerged as a grumble from the depths of her throat.

“Oh, come on. This is my spot,” I told her, attempting to push her off the bag.

This time, I received her full attention. Kea lifted her head, growling possessively and baring her teeth.

I leapt back, astonished by her sudden change in temperament. “Fine. Keep it,” I muttered and stretched out across the floor of the tent, its weatherproof nylon surface offering little buffer from the prickly lava beneath. Uncomfortable minutes passed. I edged closer to the sleeping bag, hoping I could slide my body along one side without Kea objecting. But my plan didn’t work. The dog stretched her arms and legs, sprawling her body across the cushiony surface.

I groaned. So much for wanting a friend nearby.

Inching my back toward Kea’s fuzzy coat for warmth, I eventually fell asleep on my cold, hard bed only to wake the next morning, stiff and sore. An empty sleeping bag lay beside me with Kea nowhere in sight. “Stupid dog,” I muttered. She’d probably left right after I fell asleep, wasting a perfectly good sleeping bag in her greedy moment of comfort.

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I staggered from the tent, squinting into the mid-morning sun. I stretched the kinks from my arms and back. Pele waited right outside. She held in her hands a plain woolen shirt and skirt of neutral colors, woven in dull tints of gray and off-white. “What’s all this?” I asked.

“Clothing from the time period, so you’ll blend in.”

“We’ll see about that,” I said with a frown. No matter how hard I tried, somehow I always managed to draw attention to myself. “Gaia has a way of finding me.”

Pele handed me a pair of leather boots with thick, cushioned soles. “Not with these, she won’t…as long as you don’t do anything careless, that is,” she said with a meaningful smile.

I simpered, wondering exactly how many details she knew of my past.

“Go ahead,” Pele prodded. “Try them on.”

I ducked back inside the tent, stripping off my pajamas to replace with clothes from several millennia ago. I slipped the off-white shirt over my head, not entirely sure which unadorned side marked the front. Long, thick sleeves attached to the bodice at right angles, concealing all the curves in my chest and waist.

Lovely, I thought, heaping on the sarcasm. With fumbling fingers, I wrapped the rough gray skirt around my waist and tied it in place with a sash, and returned outside. The skirt reached past my calves, leaving no skin exposed between that and my tan leather boots. Funny—having grown used to Vanessa Sullivan’s fitted clothing, I now felt dressed in a heavy burlap sack, unbearably hot and itchy in the Hawaiian sun.

I looked down at my outfit, extremely glad that Sully wasn’t here to see me in this unflattering ensemble. “So this is it?” I asked uncertainly.

“Almost. You’ll also need this,” Pele said and handed me a small section of cord, finely braided from the golden fibers of a coconut husk and fastened into a loop with a tight knot.

I stared at her in confusion, trying to decipher her intent. She reached for a strand of her flowing black hair, holding one lock up for me to see. She twisted its molten end until a section of it broke and pooled in the palm of her hand. Reaching for the coconut husk cord, she set the fibers inside the molten material and blew on the hair to cool it. I watched in amazement as the broken lock of hair congealed into a smooth, polished rock of black volcanic glass.

My eyebrows pinched together. “An amulet? What’s this for?”

“When you’re ready to come back, this obsidian amulet will return you to this exact spot,” Pele explained.

“But how will a necklace magically bring me back here? To this same time and place?”

The goddess smiled softly. “Like I told you before, the magic resides inside of you. All you need is to believe in yourself and feel this specific time with every ounce of your entire body and soul. Of course, this would be much easier if you’d accept your Elemental name, Pyr. But until then, I suppose I must help you along your journey.” Within seconds, she produced a white tongue of fire on her palm, a dancing specter in the bright sun. I stepped closer to the intense heat of the flame, much hotter than I imagined fire could get. “It’s called, ‘ke ahi kea’, meaning ‘the white fire.’”

“Is it safe?” I wondered aloud.

“Not just safe, but faster, too,” she said and closed her palm, making the white flame disappear. “You don’t want to ruin your clothes or your hair, do you?” she asked with a knowing wink, making me guess she was aware of my disheveled appearance after I escaped the fire in Old Chicago.

“So this is what happened when I jumped before…and ended up in Pompeii or Bora Bora or Chicago or Pacifica?” I guessed.

Shaking her head, her long hair swayed, exposing the fiery insides of her shimmering black strands. “No. In those cases, you panicked. Your desperation to escape your current predicament sent you spiraling out of control to a new destination that seemed—in your mind—a safer place to exit the time continuum. This amulet will help focus your energy to this precise location at this precise point of time. Although you will feel like time has continued in your absence; in fact, it has not. Your life is linear, but from your perspective it is not since you are able to journey to the past and return to the present time.”

I clutched the obsidian in my hand, swaying on my feet at the magnitude of her words. So my entry and exit points could be predetermined, but if I didn’t focus my energy properly, I might end up in some random location at an unspecified period. Had my future become a twisted game of roulette based entirely on chance? And what would happen if I didn’t do things right? I might not make it back at all, and never, ever see Sully again.

God, I hope this works. I slipped the cord around my neck and tugged on it to make sure it felt secure. “Okay. I’m ready,” I fibbed, straining to keep my voice from cracking. My hands trembled by my sides, my knees turning to jelly. I balled my hands into fists, hoping Pele didn’t notice the mounting fear inside of me.

“Good luck,” she said in a way that suggested I would need much more than luck to return intact. I prayed she knew what she was doing.

She shut her eyes, concentrating her magic on the piece of obsidian around my neck while chanting in the ancient Hawaiian language. Soon, the glossy black amulet began to glow white-hot. Pele’s voice grew deeper, the strength of her words increasing. Her speech captivated me, even though I didn’t understand a single word aside from the three she’d already mentioned. Strangely, I found myself relaxing as she continued her chant, raising her hands skyward until white fire burst forth from the amulet and consumed my entire body. I focused on her words, willing myself to remember one phrase to hopefully ignite the magical amulet when it was time to come back.

But my concentration soon waned. The fire mounted, growing hotter and making me gasp for breath. The intense heat shocked me, so unlike anything I’d ever experienced in my previous jumps. From the tips of my toes to the top of my head, my body felt encased in a deadly heat that threatened to melt me to my core. Eyes wild with fright, I glared through the flickering flames at Pele, screaming at her to stop the pain. But she didn’t relent, the flames growing higher and hotter until I could no longer see her through them at all.

I held my breath. Tongues of white flame licked my body, sending me spiraling from Pele and her expanse of black jagged lava rock. Soon, I entered a different sort of darkness where traces of starlight flickered before disappearing…where colors blurred into unrecognizable shapes and images. My speed increased, my stomach lurching from the incredible pace of my journey. I felt strapped into a seat on the world’s fastest roller coaster times two. I wanted to cup my hand to my belly to calm my stomach, but my appendages remained pinned to my side, impossible to move, spinning out of control. Seconds later, all motion abruptly ceased. I landed atop a patch of grass and instantly doubled over, struggling to catch my breath without getting sick. Nothing drew attention like the smell of nausea.