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“Why haven’t I met him?” he prodded. “He wasn’t at Kai and Visir’s ceremony, was he?”
“He wasn’t.”
Far below us, the majestic three-pronged Auli-a-mako waterfall poured through a gap in the jungle, tumbling over the darkened stone to the river below. Even from up here, I could feel its magnificent power. We were crossing over the peak of the ridge and entering the south side of the island.
“Is he dead?” Istil asked.
I chuckled. “No, no. That stubborn old man will live forever. He and my mother left T’Wanu Na. I haven’t a clue where he could be now. Maybe on one of the other islands, maybe on the mainland, looking for ways to perfect his healing craft.”
“And you have no interest in knowing where they are? That they’re okay?”
“I receive letters from my mother every so often.”
“But you don’t know where they are.”
“No.”
“If they were my parents, I’d want to know,” he said.
“Where are your parents?” I asked, glad for a way off the topic of my own.
“Silver Mountain,” he replied. “My mother comes from a family of omegas. Thran’s father and Visir’s father, her brothers, are both omegas, which means they were raised by former Protectors. My father’s side of the family are fungi nurturers. They grow the special mushrooms that light the tunnels below the mountain. It’s important work, maybe not as sexy as coming from a line of Protectors, but without those mushrooms, we’d all be stumbling around in the dark.”
I heard a protectiveness in Istil’s voice over his father’s work like he was used to hearing people criticize it.
“I get the sense that your mother’s family didn’t approve of this match,” I said.
“I had a lot to prove as a Protector,” Istil said. “But I’m sure whatever I felt was nothing compared to my father. He and my mother are still not on the best terms with her parents. I don’t think there’s anything he can do to prove himself to them, aside from becoming a different person. Not that any of that really matters. He’s an amazing father, that’s all I care about.”
We flew over the fishing village on the coast just north of the guesthouse. In the water, pods of dragons corralled gleaming schools of sardines, pushing them into nets held by humans waiting in rowboats. Further out, dolphins played amongst the colorful coral reefs. Soon, the lighthouse appeared, like a white dragon’s tooth poking out from the coast. As Istil circled to descend, I spotted Makoa in his human form, carving up the waves on his waka. And when we touched down on the sand, he was waiting for us.
“Ey, cousin! Istil! What’s up, guys? I thought you’d be back last night.”
“Sorry, Makoa,” Istil said. “I had a bit of a change of plans.”
“Oh yeah?”
“There’s, uh… something going on with the gate. I’m going to be moving into the main house to keep an eye on it.”
“Whoa. Nothing serious?”
“No, nothing serious. Ari’s helping me with my things.”
“Shit, I’ll come to help you, too,” Makoa said, lifting his wakka onto his shoulder.
“That’s alright, Makoa,” I said. “You don’t need to interrupt your session.”
“Nah, I’m done. Besides”—he put his hand on Istil’s shoulder—”if you’re gonna be moving out, I wanna see you off, brotha!”
“I take it Kai and Leo aren’t here?” I asked as we walked.
“Kai and Visir are doing their guardian thing. Leo is… well, being Leo. Probably floating around somewhere looking at fish. So, you’re flying now, eh?”
“Not enthusiastically,” I told him. “It was simpler than us both taking our own ways.”
“You’ll never catch me flying,” he said.
“Aww, Makoa,” said Istil, prodding his arm. “I thought you were brave.”
