Tempest Unleashed (21 page)

Kona seemed to understand without my saying a word.
Whatever you want to do, Tempest.

I nodded. Then figured it would probably be easier to do this with Kona than without him—at least this time. If I were alone and saw my mother kill someone else, I’m not sure what I would do.

Decision made, I closed my fingers around the glass and braced myself for the pain.

It never came. Instead, a soothing warmth spread out from where the glass lay in my palm—down my fingers to my arm and then through my whole body, inch by inch. It was an extraordinary feeling, especially after the agony that had come with the pearls.

Are you okay?
Kona asked anxiously, when I didn’t say or do anything.
Does it hurt?

No
, I told him, right before another memory unfolded in front of me.

This one was different though. It was still hazy, still out of focus, but while it was my mother’s recollection, for the first time it didn’t center around her. Instead, it centered around … me.

I was wearing a purple swimming tank and a pair of black boy-short swim bottoms, and I was in the water on my surfboard, with the number four pinned to my chest.

The second I saw that number, that outfit, I knew where I was: at a surfing competition in Hawaii. I was fourteen—I didn’t have my Brewer board yet and was instead using the yellow-and-fuchsia one that had been my favorite for years.

I’d won the competition, and Roxy had wanted to sponsor me, but my dad wouldn’t let them. He’d told me I was too young for sponsorship, and no matter how much I begged, he hadn’t budged. Not on that.

But how had my mother known?
I wondered as I watched my dad sweep me into his arms when my final score was announced and we knew I’d won. Moku and Rio were both there, jumping around and screeching like crazy people. When my dad put me down, four-year-old Moku yanked on my bathing suit top until I picked him up and twirled him around. By the time I put him down, we both looked dizzy as we stumbled onto the sand. It only made us laugh harder.

It had been a good day, was a good memory for me despite my mother’s absence. She had left three and a half years earlier, and I hadn’t laid eyes on her again until I’d followed Kona into the ocean.

But if this memory could be believed, she’d seen that day, knew everything about it. Had she been there, then, watching us the entire time? Too scared, too ashamed, too filled with duty to come ashore and celebrate with us? The idea made me sad, especially when I let myself think about how much I’d missed her back then. It felt strange to realize she had been there and I just hadn’t known.

I let the sea glass go, let it slip from my fingers and tumble through the water to the cavern floor. As it fell, I wondered how many other times my mother had been there, watching, and I hadn’t known. Was this a one-time thing, or was each of those pieces of sea glass filled with a memory of me, my brothers, my father?

If they were, if she’d been watching all along, what did that say about the way I’d always felt about her? Did it change things, when so much of my anger came from her abandonment of us?

When I thought of her there, watching, I didn’t feel angry. I felt lost, like I’d missed an opportunity that would never come around again. Why hadn’t she tried to talk to me? Why hadn’t she said something? I’d needed her so much and by the time I’d finally found her again, it had been too late.

I’d thought that becoming mermaid would make things easier, but the more information I received the harder it became to answer anything in black and white. Suddenly, the shades of gray were more alive than they had ever been.

I was reaching for another piece of glass, wanting to see—wanting to know—when an overwhelming sense of doom, of panic, washed over me. It pressed in from every side, smothered me. Terrified me. I tried to get a handle on it, to figure out what was happening, but everything was jumbled up in the all-encompassing horror sweeping through every inch of me.

Kona reached over, pulled me against him, and something about the solid heat of his skin brought me back from the edge. Kept the hysteria at bay. And that’s when I knew.

I grabbed on to Kona with hands that shook.
Something’s wrong
, I told him.
Back at home. Something’s happened to my family.

Chapter 17

What do you mean?
Kona asked, confused.
What’s wrong?

I don’t know
, I told him.
I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.

I shot straight up, swimming for the cavern’s exit with every ounce of energy I could muster.

Tempest, hold on!
Kona caught up to me, wrapped his arms around my waist.

I spun in his hold, nearly decked him before I caught myself.
Let me go!
I screamed, struggling against his hold.
I have to get home. I have to get—

I know
, he told me calmly.
I’ll go with you. Just calm down, breathe for a second. Tell me what’s going on.

Something’s wrong. I don’t know what. I don’t even know how I know. But I feel it, in here.
I pounded on my chest.
Something terrible has happened.

All right, then.
Kona nodded, never questioning my certainty.
Let’s go.

We both shifted, then swam through the cave like our tails were on fire. Once we hit the open ocean, Kona shifted back, got dressed, but I stayed in mermaid form. I needed to get home as quickly as I possibly could.

Panic rocketed through me with every stroke I took, burning with the certainty that someone I loved was hurt. Badly.
Not Moku
, I prayed as I swam grimly beside Kona.
Not Moku, not Moku, not Moku. Please don’t let it be my sweet baby brother.

But then I didn’t want it to be Rio or my dad either.
Please
, I prayed,
please let them all be okay.
Even as I said the words, I knew it was too much to hope for. I could feel the bad news closing in, wrapping itself around me like a tourniquet that cut off my ability to think, to breathe.

You need to tell Hailana
, Kona told me,
before we get too far away.

She’ll say I can’t go, and I won’t listen. It’ll end up being a huge thing
, I warned him.

She’ll want you to go. I told you before, Hailana understands.

I stopped my disbelieving snort just in time to keep myself from sucking up a whole bunch of water—maybe I was finally getting the hang of this thing.

Tempest …

Fine, I’ll do it.
But when I tried to reach out to her, she wasn’t close enough. And I wasn’t strong enough to initiate communication from this far away.

I told Kona what was wrong and he held the bridge. It took only a few seconds for me to reach Hailana. She was in another Council meeting and pissed that I wasn’t there with her.

I have to go home
, I told her.
Something’s wrong.

You can’t leave now
, she answered.
There’s no way. We need you here.

They need me there.

You can’t keep doing this, Tempest.
Her voice was stern.
You chose your path. Your loyalties lie with us now.

They should, I knew, but it wasn’t as easy as she was making it out to be. I’d walked away from my life on land, but that didn’t mean I could just forget it ever existed. I had spent seventeen years of my life with my family. Trying to stop caring overnight about what happened to them was impossible, even if I wanted to. Which I didn’t.

I’m going, Hailana.

Queen Hailana!
she shouted at me.

Fine. I’m going, Queen Hailana.

If you disobey me in this, Tempest, there will be grave consequences when you return. Consequences you will not enjoy. Trust me.

The thought that maybe I wouldn’t return snaked through me, but with a quick, guilty look at Kona, I cut it off before it could even fully form.

Then I’ll deal with the consequences when I return
, I said.

I’m forbidding you to go!

You don’t own me—you can’t forbid me to do anything.

Tempest—

Drop the bridge
, I told Kona, who looked disturbed but did as I asked.

I’m not heading back to Coral Straits
, I told him,
so don’t even bother suggesting it.

I wasn’t going to. I’m just shocked that she wouldn’t let you leave. There must be something big happening.

The only big thing going on is that Hailana is a total witch. She’s pissed because I won’t fall in line and do exactly what she wants, twenty-four hours a day.

He laughed.
You make her sound like a fascist.

She is.

Oh, come on, she’s not that bad.

I started to tell Kona about the hints she kept dropping regarding our relationship, trying to get me to lose faith in him, but figured that, one, he wouldn’t believe me, or two, he would try to figure out how I could have misinterpreted what she’d been saying.

I could also tell him that she said his sister’s death was accidental, that it wasn’t Sabyn’s fault, but that was crossing the line and I knew it. Kona would tell me about his sister’s death when he was ready. For now, I was going with his interpretation, because for me, a choice between the two of them would always come down to Kona.

For one brief, stupid second, I wondered if he would make the same choice between his kingdom and me.

Come on
, he suddenly said, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward an influx of warmer, faster-moving water.
Let’s shoot the current. It’ll shave a good hour off our time
.

That was the last conversation we had for a long while. We were both too busy concentrating on swimming—through exhaustion and beyond—to have any energy left for something as mundane as talking. Still, I was grateful that Kona was there. I felt so lost, so confused, so frightened, that I swore the only thing keeping me sane was the feel of his strong, lean body beside me.

All I could think about was that I was just like my mother. She’d left, and maybe she’d kept track of things with us, maybe she hadn’t, but she’d never been there. Not when I needed her, not when my dad and brothers needed her. And now, here I was, an ocean away when something bad happened to my family. If I hadn’t been in that cave, connected to them through my mother’s memories, would I even know that there was a problem? Or would I be swimming along, living my life without ever knowing that something was wrong?

You doing okay?
Kona asked.

Yeah.
What else could I say?

That I felt like I was going to rip apart into a thousand different pieces?

That the guilt was nearly killing me?

That if we didn’t get to La Jolla soon I was really afraid that I might lose what was left of my mind?

Hey, it’s going to be okay
, Kona said.

I know.
I wouldn’t let myself think any other way.

Come here.
He pulled me into his arms.
You’re exhausted. Let me take over for a while.

I’m fine
, I said, but I relaxed against him anyway. I was so exhausted that I was trembling with every pull of my arms through the water.

You don’t have to be Super-Mermaid, you know. Your body’s been through hell these last couple of days. Just rest for a few minutes, okay?

I nodded against his chest.
Thank you
, I told him, kissing his bicep.

You’re welcome.
His voice was solemn when he answered, which made me think he understood just how many things I was thanking him for.

We made it to the beach near my house about ninety minutes later. It was crowded, filled to capacity with surfers, swimmers, and sun worshippers, so I shifted in the water pretty far from shore, then took my bikini bottoms from Kona, who’d shoved them in his pocket when I had shifted to mermaid.

After all the vital areas were covered, we swam to the beach. We walked out of the water together, then I slipped my hand into Kona’s and we ran up the sand I hadn’t set foot on for over eight months. As we ran, I prayed we weren’t too late.