24. Kaleo

The Past

Astorm brewed over the land.Lightning cut through the night sky, followed by the clash of thunder to punctuate its ferocity. The rain felt like pellets of ice slicing the tops of Naia's shoulders as she jogged down the narrow-muddied path. It winded through the dense forest into the square of the town.

With the wind slapping through her hair, she came to a stop, her bare feet sinking in the sludge. Brick buildings ran parallel on either side of her. The warm light of the lampposts did nothing to help her read the names of the establishments plastered on the arches of their structures.The rain weeping from the sky made it impossible to peer through.

To her right was a large clock tower. There was a spot halfway up to overlook the island. She considered taking refuge there until the storm cleared.

A barrage of trotting cut through the rain. She spun as a horse-drawn carriage sped past her, splattering muck across her front.

Naia gasped as her body stiffened and arms came up.

Grounding her teeth, she squinted through the night for refuge. Did it have to be so dark?

Marina popped into her mind. Centuries had passed since she last saw her sister. News had traveled to Kaimana a month ago about how Marina had defeated Keirnan, the previous High God of the Night. This information had not stunned Naia in the slightest. Had Marina's new title changed her in any way? Perhaps Naia would get the opportunity to see her again one day.

Naia hung her head up at the crackling sky. Rain pelted her in the eyes, a child's play type of pain. It was enough to make Naia laugh as regret pierced her thoughts, followed by doubt in herself. Used to being guided by the occupants of Mira's staff with a room to call her own, and a palace, no matter how hollow it felt, to live in.

I am stresseddue to my lack of cleanliness and housing.

She huffed out a laugh. It was minuscule. Such nonsense compared to her usual problems.

I will figure this out.

She was a capable, centuries-old goddess. In two months, she'd learned how to shapeshift, thanks to her childhood servant, Gianna.

Picturing Marina, young and just as na?ve, the day she left Kaimana to explore the Mortal Land, gave Naia the confidence she needed. If Marina could figure it out, so could she.

Straightening her shoulders, Naia took a moment to absorb the sights around her once more.

Naia hobbled across the deserted street to the sidewalk lining its edges, grimacing at the feel of mud that had seeped into her boots and nestled its way between her toes.

She padded down the slick pavement, finally finding shelter under an awning where she shook the rain off. As she peeled her stringy wet strands, clinging to her like seaweed, from her neck, the bold sign of an inn painted on a pale dwelling across the square caught her eye.

With a triumphant smile on her face, she braved the downpour towards it.

Vanilla infusing the air greeted her as she stepped inside. The honey glow of a solitary lamp and the wood furniture in the lobby gave off a cozy ambience.

Naia strolled across the creaky wood floor to the front counter. Behind it sat a man reading a newspaper.

He lowered it, revealing a deep-set of liquid caramel eyes, black hair resting on his brow, damp as if he'd ran through the rain recently himself, and a straight line drawn across his face as he took Naia in. Clearly unimpressed, and, by the looks of it, slightly displeased by her presence.

He resumed reading his paper."What can I help you with?"

She glared at him, the ends of her strands dripping beads of rainwater on the counter. "Might you have any available rooms?"

The man sighed, folded up his paper, and set it aside to flop open a leather-bound book placed in front of him.

His finger ran down the list. "A room with how many beds?"

"One, obviously," she drawled, sarcastically gesturing to the empty air beside her. "As I am alone."

The man brought his eyes up from the record book to her. "For all I know, your husband could be out attending to your horse and carriage while you request a room."

"That does nothing to explain your horrible greeting." She scowled. "It's completely understandable you have rooms available, given your hospitality needs work."

The man gave a small laugh, sitting up straighter on his stool. "My, you're a vicious one."

Her eyes went round. "I beg your pardon?"

He let the cover of his record book slam shut, heavy by the weight of the pages. A gust of the aged paper and dust rushed up Naia's nose. "It's the middle of the night and you expect me to be jolly and wave at you in greeting? You either need a place to stay or you don't."

Naia blinked at him, appalled.

"By all means," he continued, "if my hospitality isn't up to your standards, you can head across town and request a room at the only other lodging on the island. Let the owner know Kaleo sent you."

She scrunched her face. "Your personality is atrocious, Kaleo."

"Yours doesn't bring a smile to my face either, Miss."He punctuated the statement with a fake smile.

Silent tension coiled in the air between them. The downpour roared against the roof of the building. While Naia didn't have to worry about catching a cold, she also did not have any interest in trudging across the town in search of another place to stay and risk no vacancy.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Very well." The words stung her pride. "I suppose I will take a room."

Kaleo twisted around and plucked a golden key off a hook on the wall and dangled it on his pinky, just out of reach. "It's a quarter per night."

Money! Mortals operated on a currency system. Everything costs, she could recall Solaris telling her one time after exploring the land, displeased with it as much as she was now.

"I will pay my tab when I am ready to depart, if that is alright with you." Her voice betrayed her and came out as a whisper. She cleared her throat and lifted her chin, speaking clearer. "I am not sure how long I will be in town."

She longed to roam her father's land. And while she missed Finnian more than words could convey, she needed to do this for herself before summoning him. She was doing what he suggested, after all. To explore a little. Not only that, but she needed to prove to herself she could survive on her own.

Kaleo inclined his head to study her, his gaze low-lidded and full of depth. Its piercing effect made her cheeks feel as if she stood too close to an open flame. She bit her lip back with a need to squirm her hands.

"If money is something you lack," he said, "you can work your tab off in the kitchen."

Another pang in her pride.

Naia reached over and snatched the key from him. "When do I begin?"

"In two hours," he replied, dutifully amused. "Preparations for breakfast begin a quarter to five."

Naia clutched the key tightly, reeling a little when she felt the metal neck bending in her palm.

The kitchen loathed her just as much as she did it. But what options did she have? Unless she wanted to sleep in the forest, or along the shore.

Too close to Mira.

Pinpricks of anxiety dotted in her chest.

Naia had centuries left until turning eight-hundred. Surely, Mira would not make such a drastic fuss about Naia's absence. Naia expected her to send Raksa or one of her other attendants if they could find her.

She relaxed herself with a breath and plastered on a fake smile to match Kaleo's. "I'll see you then."

Workingin the kitchens wasn't as terrible as Naia expected.

And neither was Kaleo.

Her mornings were filled with the aroma of cinnamon and cloves, attempting in terrible fashion to bake breakfast pastries.When irritation became her, unable to get the measurements of the dough accurate, Kaleo intervened.

"I will show you, if you will let me." His voice possessed a gentle patience she could not resist.

She would stand to the side and observe him work the dough in his hands, or in the evenings, chop the vegetables and roast the chicken.

When the inn was busy, she would lend a hand with operating the front desk and attending customer check-ins.

A week turned into a month and somewhere between the days, she noticed small things about Kaleo. The linen trousers he wore and how he never tucked his tunic into the waistband. The disheveled arrangement of his hair, and how moody he was towards others. Aside from a dry, sarcastic remark here and there, his lack of greeting stemmed from his introverted personality and intolerance of people.

He kept a small garden behind the inn, full of white-budded jasmine blossoms, the sharp tang of oregano and basil, and the peppery-pungent of coriander that he plucked daily to dehydrate for marinating and teas.

Kaleo owned the inn and ran it without help. From cooking to the upturning of rooms, he operated every role on his own.

Naia didn't have to wonder if he appreciated her help, because he showed it by leaving a cup of her favorite chrysanthemum tea on the front desk to cool when she slipped away to the restroom (pretending to relieve herself), or by the berry pastry she'd find on her nightstand after serving the guests dinner.

A boat traveled to and from the mainland several times a season, carting tourists in and out. During Naia's lone walks around the island, she'd often stand on the loading dock and watch as the sea carried the large ship far into the horizon until it was the size of a speck lost in the deep blue waters.

She could board the ship whenever she wished. If she knew what was best, she'd avoid settling in one place for too long. But four months had passed, and Naia was beginning to believe Mira did not care about her absence, since not a single deity had come for her.

The night of the autumn solstice, there wasn't a soul in the inn. A weird lull, Kaleo simply put it.

"Go change your clothes and meet me down here in five minutes," he told her."I'm taking you out somewhere nice."

Without giving her a chance to argue, he vanished through the door on the adjacent wall behind the front counter. She assumed it led to the basement where his personal living quarters were, since she'd seen him coming in and out of it frequently.

Naia dashed up to her room and changed into a blue dress with puffy short sleeves. She styled her long hair in a fat braid, decorated by Wren.

When she met Kaleo downstairs, he wore a fresh pair of trousers with a button up and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Her eyes lingered on the bare tan skin of his forearms to the slouchy, yet fitting, way he had tucked his tunic into his trousers on one side of his waistband beneath his belt.

He slipped on a fedora hat and took her by the hand.

He led her down the road to a pub where they drank cheap liquor and danced to live music.Kaleo tripped and stumbled over her feet. She laughed. He flashed her a playful scowl, attempting to walk off the dance floor, only for her to tug him back into place against her waist.

By the end of the night, they had crossed into unfamiliar territory.

Kaleo's hands went from holding her fingers to her hips and twirling her around. She spewed out deep-soulful-belly laughter when he lost his balance and stumbled over his feet more than a few times. It was the first time she witnessed a real smile from Kaleo, revealing a set of plush cheeks with perfectly engraved dimples.

By the night's end, when the alcohol was a steady stream in their veins, they stumbled home.

Kaleo escorted her to her room, his hands slowly releasing hers as he backed away. She caught him by the hem of his shirt. He slightly turned to look back at her, and she pulled herself into his chest.

All night, she'd grown accustomed to his closeness, and the way his gaze made strides between her mouth and eyes.

With his shirt bunched in her fingers, she pulled him into a kiss.

He tasted of spice from the whiskey he'd sipped. His touch was cold, something she'd noticed the few times he guided her hands on how to mix dough.

As her palms flattened against his chest, he leaned into her, tightening his hold around her neck, enhancing their kiss.

Life with Kaleo was rainy days and steaming cups of tea in the confined walls of his inn; long walks and horse rides along the packed-dirt streets of the island; frequent trips to the local bakery where she got to know the owner and his young son; locals dipping their chins and smiling at Naia as she traveled with haste, arms full of brown paper bags of fresh fish, pacing back to the inn where Kaleo awaited for her to start preparations for dinner; early mornings tangled in his sheets; evening hikes up a mountain peak, casting a magnificent view of the emerald landscape of the island and the glittering turquoise water.

She never told Kaleo she was a deity, or that her parents were High Gods; that the land he called home was forged by her father, and the sea surrounding him belonged to her mother.

Naia's time on the island was the peaceful, meandering journey of a turtle, finding she preferred the steady, grazing life of a mortal rather than one of a goddess.

The air held a chilly twinge to it in the month of February. A slight drop of temperature, but nothing drastic enough to bundle up for.

Naia pursed her lips to keep from smiling as she watched Kaleo button up his coat.

"Don't look at me like that," he huffed.

She made her way to him and tugged on the hem of his coat playfully. "I would never."

"It's freezing out there." His expression was comparable to a sullen child's. It was adorable.

She slid her arms around his waist beneath the thick fabric of his coat. "I will keep you warm."

His eyes flared as they fell to her mouth. "Careful, Naia, or we won't go anywhere tonight."

A tremor zapped down her chest and sparked low in her belly.

She removed her arms back to her sides, turning her head away from him to hide her flushed cheeks.

It was another occasional lull in the inn. No one to occupy the rooms.

"I want to try the restaurant down by the docks." Naia turned her back on Kaleo and reached for her hat on the hook by the door. "The owner advertised cowsteak when I saw him at the bank yesterday. He said he received a shipment from a merchant who came in from overseas."

She straightened the crooked flower on the brim and made a mental note to touch up on the stitching of the crocheted dahlia Kaleo had gifted her, before putting the hat on her head.

When he didn't reply, Naia spun around. "Kaleo?"

His eyes were suspended on her, wide and bloodshot, as he choked on his breath.

Naia's heart lurched up in her throat.

Towering over him from behind was a phantom-like, menacing figure. A low growl rumbled from it, exposing rows of teeth in the folds of its swirling black face.Its long, twine fingers protruded through the front side of Kaleo's ribcage, the place where his heart was.

Naia flung herself towards him, but a forceful grip yanked her arm back.An inhuman grip.

"It seems the fruit truly does not fall far from the rotting tree."

Marina.

Frantically, Naia wrestled her arm free and bolted for Kaleo. Her other hand reached for Wren in her pocket.

Shadows whirled and churned viciously at Naia's sides. Fingers wrapped around her arms and forced her down. She screamed. Her elbows hit the floor.

"It's been a while," Marina said in a silky tone. "Let me introduce you to my nightrazers."

Naia kicked and thrashed as the nightrazers' corpse-like hands burrowed into the flesh of her back, holding her in place.

Blood dribbled down Kaleo's chin.

A paralyzing dread chilled Naia's bloodstream. She fought to free her arms and reach for him, as if she could grasp ahold of his soul and keep it within the chambers of his skin.

His gaze remained fixed on her, eyes glistening. A smile lifting the corners of his mouth, drawing creases around his eyes.

Her heart sank into her stomach. She knew what that smile meant. He'd worn it many mornings in the kitchen while he listened to her rant when she got the proofing method wrong on the dough and had to start over again. The first time he murmured I love you when he thought she had been too immersed in a book to hear him. She said it back later that night when they lay in his bed, catching their breaths.

The nightrazer ripped its lodged arm from Kaleo's back. His eyelids fluttered. Blood splotches soaked through the layers of his coat, and he swayed on his feet before crashing into the floor.

Naia shrieked out his name, flailing her arms against the cutting grip of the nightrazers.

Marina sauntered to stand between Naia and Kaleo, her black heels stepping in the pool of crimson. Shadows danced and licked around her.

She kneeled beside Naia. The motion sliding her long satin strands over her shoulder. "It seems Father still finds a way to defend you as he rots in Lord Cassian's prison. I should've known you were on his island when I could not find you anywhere else."

Naia could barely register her words as she gasped for air, her lungs aching from the combination of erratic breaths and uncontrollable sobs. "Ma-Marina, please. Fix him. Don't let him die. I will go back with you. Pl-please."

Marina's fingers dug into Naia's jaw, forcing Naia to look at her. Her gaze was as sharp and deadly as Naia remembered. Eyes that held centuries of animosity Naia could not make sense of.

"For centuries, I've watched you follow Father like a shadow," Marina sneered. "And look where such a road brought you, dear sister. Condemned to experience the same pathetic fate as him. You disgust me. Let this be your punishment for your selfish decision to abandon Mother."

Naia's ears rang. Her mouth stuttered open with silent words. None of which she could push out of her throat. The air in her lungs constricted. She shook her head with an unwelcoming defeat fizzling through the chill of her shock.

No, no, no.

Marina released Naia's jaw and stood. "Burn it down," she commanded her nightrazers.

The words knocked a life-force back into Naia, causing her to jerk in the nightrazers' hold. She wanted to give Kaleo a proper burial. To make sure he was put to rest.

More nightrazers morphed from the ebony fog filling the inn's lobby, obscuring Naia's view. It fluttered over her skin and excavated into her pores like rustling insects.

"Finnian, middle god of witchcraft and sorcery!" His title left Naia's lips in a panicked breath. "Come to me!"

The harrowing haze filled her nostrils and coated her throat. She coughed against the raw and scratchy sensation. "Finnian! Come to me!"

A bright flicker of vibrant orange lit through the darkness, devouring Kaleo's corpse. The excruciating squall ofheat stung her eyes.

"Finny!" Mucus and tears ran down her face as she shrieked his name.

No! I will not leave him?—

Blackness swallowed her whole.

Chains of Confinementshackled Naia's wrists. The same relic used to escort her father out of Kaimana. She had no interest in knowing how such a thing ended up in Mira's possession.

The chains held her suspended to the ceiling of a hall in the lower ground of the palace. The small flame in the sconces did little to dispel the desolate chill draping the room.

Mira's whip hissed through each lash, striking between Naia's shoulder blades. One laceration after another hacking flesh and muscle to the bone.

With each hit, Naia's body swung in the air, and the shackles around her wrist bit into her skin.

Naia's whines echoed through the silent hall, filled with faces eager to witness the punishment of the High Sea Goddesses' eldest daughter. Vex, Astrid, Malik. Mira's attendants. Middle gods from distant lands Naia recognized, but never cared to remember their name.

And Solaris with his attendants.

Naia's arrival was of resistance. A blur with her screeching and snot draining down her mouth as she threw her fists at those who held her down. It took five gods to brace her. Raksa, the bastard, along with Vex and Malik, and a few hesitant guards.

During the first few strikes, Naia had bitten off the tip of her tongue from the pain. There was a precision in the way Mira spun her whip. A speed that made it impossible for Naia's body to mend before being split open again.

The slickness of blood ran down the backs of her legs, its nauseating odor permeating so violently in her nostrils that, after a few minutes of it, she could no longer smell it.

Tattered ligaments of her backside hung from her flesh. She slipped in and out of consciousness, and each time she woke, she wished she could peel out of her skin and drift off to wherever Kaleo was.

The agony flooding her soul, surging through her insides, eventually became too much to process, and she subconsciously retreated to the farthest, most secluded place in her mind to hide.

"High God of Death and Curses," Mira said, once it was over, "I summon you."

Naia lifted her chin from her chest, pulse firing.

The shackles binding her wrists came undone. Her feet hit the floor and a lightning bolt of pain shot up her legs. The pulsating wounds in her back dropped her to her knees, colliding her elbows against the floor. She whimpered. Tremors convulsed throughout her body. It hurt to breathe, to move.

A sound sliced above her, the disorientation of power and time tangling.

The dignified presence of Cassian hovered over, sucking the air out of the room. She lifted her forehead from the floor to find his boots inches from her head. Swathed in a dark robe, his pale blonde strands peeking out from the sides of his drawn-up hood.

He spun slowly on his heel, surveying his surroundings.

"Vex. Malik," Mira ordered.

Both stalked across the room and grabbed hold of Naia and jerked her up by the arm to a sitting position.

Cassian dropped his chin to gaze down at her, his topaz irises lacking their usual brilliance, impossible to decipher.

Something collapsed in her at the sight of him. He was a possibility—a bridge—to Kaleo.

"Bring him back—" Her sob devoured her words. "Please. Bring him back."

Cassian flicked his eyes up to Malik, over to Vex, and back down onto Naia. Then, he bent forward, hands joined behind his back. "You know I cannot do that, Lady Naia."

"He—" She hiccupped through her tears. "Is he okay?"

"Your beloved has crossed into my land," Cassian told her. "He is free of suffering."

It gave her peace, but not nearly enough to heal the ache stretching apart her heart.

"I am here to curse you." He placed his hand on her shoulder, and it surprised her how gently his fingers cradled her. "Your confinement to Kaimanabeginstoday."

The branding of Cassian's mark was painless.

Cassian's presence in front of her blurred and she blinked to rid the tears from her eyes. There were many things she wanted to say to him. Please don't tell Kaleo about this, about who I am. Please make sure he finds peace.

"Perhaps when you return to your land, you can do a better job of handling your prisoners," Mira's resonant voice interrupted Naia's thoughts.

The corner of Cassian's mouth twitched as he straightened and looked back at Mira. "Vale is confined, Lady Mira, as his punishment. However, we are both well aware Nohealani Island is his creation, despite what the mortals believe. Do not blame me for your faults."

"He hid her presence on the island for half a year, Lord Cassian," Mira replied in a terse tone. "It is evident he is not shackled."

Naia lifted her chin, sucking a stunned breath through her cut lips. Fresh tears welled in her eyes. Father had watched over her from the Land of the Dead and protected her, just as Marina had said.

Cassian took a step towards Mira, tilting his head in a disdainful manner. "Did he stop Lady Marina from stepping foot onto the island?"

Mira's lips thinned. "No."

"Vale remains as the High God of Nature, despite his imprisonment," Cassian continued. "That is, until another bests him for his title. If this does not stand as a reasonable enough explanation to ease your concerns, I will put it in more straightforward terms for you, Lady Mira. It would be best not to question my rule over those in Moros, as you are well aware of my tendency to curse those who are a nuisance to me. Am I safe to assume, after clearing up your confusion, that we are now on the same page moving forward, Lady Mira?"

Mira's unblinking glare burned with animosity. "Yes."

"Lovely." Cassian rotated, turning his back to Mira, and meeting Naia's eyes one last time. "Farewell, Lady Naia."

He gave her a small bow as a glimmering shadow fabricated behind him, birthing golden strands that encircled his form. And then, he vanished.

Mira exited the hall without a word. Marina followed. The triplets did as well, along with everyone else who joined to watch.

Without her brothers supporting her, Naia folded onto the floor with no intention of moving.

A warm pair of arms lifted her up.

"Naia, love," Solaris whispered against her cheek. "You will heal. You must bear it until then."

She did not want his tenderness, his sympathies. She wanted Kaleo and the chilled touch of his hands, the brassy hue of his eyes caught in the sunlight as he looked at her.

Solaris entered Naia's bedchamber. Desolate shadows from the skylight filled the room with a neatly made bed and a fresh robe waiting for her. All a stale reminder of the monotony she had been stuck in, had escaped, and how it all was reaching right back for her.

Dark, isolated, confinement.

No warmth, no joy, no light.

Naia stirred in Solaris's arms, her fingers catching on the frame of the door. Before he could register what she was doing, her feet slapped down on the floor. Another pulse of pain stabbed up her legs, and she winced as her knees folded.

Solaris caught her by the forearm before she tumbled. "Naia, we need to get you in a bath."

Naia shoved him away. The little strength she could muster was enough to rock him back on his heels.

She spun in a slow, panicked circle like a trapped animal.

The inn.She needed to go back. Lay in Kaleo's bed. Smell him. Swim in the only thing left of him.

Cassian's words resounded in her mind. Confined to Kaimana.

Her bottom lip quivered. Silent tears trickled down her face.

Why did Kaleo have to die? Why couldn't Mira have given her this one thing?

Naia was furious with herself for failing to notice Marina's presence back at the inn. For failing to save Kaleo, and allowing herself to fantasize about a life with him when she should've known better.

Why did she always lose the people she loved?

Her anger was like the gathering of a tide, sweeping back, and pushing swiftly over her head.

Solaris reached for her again. "Naia?—"

She screamed. The manic sound hurdled from her mouth. She clenched her fists with full intent on throwing them through the walls of her bedchamber. Destroy it. The room, the bed, the palace. Let it crumble.

Solaris's arms caged around her before her fist could connect with the crystal wall.

She bent her knees to hurl him off her back, but his embrace constricted, exercising his true strength as a High God. In her condition, she could not overthrow him.

"Naia, love, please stop this before she hurts you even more."

Naia squeezed her eyes shut and the horrid memory of Kaleo's death played behind them. No fear resided in his last moments. Only peace as he regarded her with adoration, conveying one last I love you. A third great loss, her infinite heartbreak.

The sides of Naia's throat felt as if they were glued together. "Solaris," she wheezed, "let me go."

Kaleo was gone.

Her chest rose and fell at a rapid rhythm, unable to control her breath.

Dead—

Because of her.

No, because of fate.

"High Goddess of Fate?—!"

Solaris slapped his hand over her mouth to stop her. "Naia, if you bring Lady Ruelle here, it will only make matters worse."

Naia plunged her teeth into the side of his hand. He recoiled his arm, and she snapped her head back, feeling the crack of his nose against her skull.

Solaris grunted, but his arms were like vines strapped around her.

"Let me go! Let me go!" Naia lashed her legs out.The wounds in her back hadn't healed yet, and with each thrash, bits of her raw skin and cartilage rubbed raw against the material of Solaris's tunic.

The bone-deep agony stirred her nausea.

Bracing his back against the wall, they slid to the floor. Solaris's legs locked around Naia's, the crooks of his elbows smothering her waist.

He tucked his face into the crevice of her neck. "I will not let you go." The dripping of his tears ran down her clavicle, the way rain settled between the veins of a leaf. "I cannot bear to watch it again, Naia. Please, I beg of you, stop this."

His hopeless plea traveled through her anguish and reached her. This was not Solaris, the selfish High God, but the young lord she once believed to have loved.

Naia surrendered against his hold, dropping her head. "I do not wish to live anymore." The words scraped up her throat and left her mouth in a cry.

He guided her head onto his shoulder, pushing back the strands in her face. "I know, I know."

They wept together while Solaris held onto her, anchoring her with the strength of his embrace.