chapter forty-six
Chapter Forty-Six
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The Metkayina believed that life began and ended in water. Water was intrinsic to all life, and it was only fitting that life begins the way it ends.
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“What have you done?” shouted Spider. Ko’oä’s head lulled to the side, her arms limp and for a horrible moment, he was certain she was dead, and that the Metkayina would kill them all.
Claire inhaled sharply, something a little desperate in her eyes as she ran forward.
“Ko’oä,” she said, bringing a hand up to check her pulse. “She’s alive—what did you do?”
The room was silent, even as Claire frantically laid Ko’oä on a table, pressing her hand into the wound on her stomach. “What did you do?!” she shrieked.
The humans have no good answer.
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The humans had the children. You could see them from your place behind Tonowari, and your lip wobbled at the sight of Tsireya. Your sweet girl was shaking, her eyes wide and fearful as she was screamed at in a language she wasn’t too familiar with.
You hadn’t much reason to speak English, and as a result, your children had varying degrees of fluency—Ko’oä spoke it best, and Ao’nung, who had wanted to be just like her as a child was a close second.
Tsireya had never bothered, and you weren’t sure Rulì would even recognize English if he heard it at all.
They wanted Jake.
Selfishly, you didn’t care about the Sullys. You cared that your girls were there, trapped on a boat and scared.
You couldn’t see Ko’oä.
Where is she? you demanded, eyes sliding between Ronal and Tonowari. You couldn’t see his face, but his shoulders were squared. Tsireya was crying. Your heart hammered in your chest, fear coursing through your veins.
You wanted to ask more, to demand your children—but chaos erupted as a tulkun attacked the ship. Your fingers dug into Tonowari’s side, and you slipped into the water attaching yourself to an ilu. Ao’nung. Chaos raged around you, but you could get one of your children. You moved forward, cutting through the water and scooping him up. He held onto you, and desperately, you asked, Where are your sisters?
You knew the moment you looked at his face. Your heart plummeted, and you shook your head. You refused to accept it, not until you saw her. Ronal and Tonowari would get Tsireya, but you could take Ao’nung back to safety.
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Waiting was the worst of it. Tsonu’e held your hand.
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Ao’nung spotted them first, flying to his feet. Tsireya darted forward to meet you, unable to control her sobs. Her eyes were red, her cheeks streaked with tears and blood caked underneath her fingernails—you shook your head, wiping her tears. You looked passed her, at Ronal and Tonowari.
Ronal’s expression was unreadable, but it was Tonowari that told you everything. You took a step back, falling onto the sand as he carried her.
You screamed, unable to control yourself. Ko’oä’s eyes were glassy, wet curls plastered against the side of her face. You launched forward, inconsolable as your baby slipped from the world.
No, you begged, moving her face in your hands. Ao’nung’s hands shook, and he looked so small, out of place.
Ko’oä and Ao’nung liked each other best. You knew this the way you knew water was wet.
He looked at you, his eyes filled with something you didn’t even hope to identify. Your world was cracking at the seams, falling apart.
No, you denied. No. We will figure this out. The Omaticaya—they boats they have doctors, they—
“My love,” said Ronal weakly, her voice cracking.
You shook your head. No.
She stood slowly, drawing you into a hug. “There is nothing.”
You sobbed, screaming into her chest. Ronal’s hands tightened around you, buried in your hair as she pressed her face into your cheek.
“Ko’oä cannot die,” you wailed. “She is our child!”
You would have to remember her for longer then you knew her. Ao’nung. You reached out blindly, grabbing his arm and tugging him toward you and Ronal. You wrapped your arms around him, your fingers feeling his pulse on his wrists, the rise and fall of his chest reassuring. Your sweet Ko’oä was gone. Ao’nung and Ko’oä liked each other best—their connection was special, gentle.
You would not get over this. But time would pass anyway.
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You visited her at the Tree of Souls. It was not the same.
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You were aimless.
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In the end, it was Tsonu’e that pulled you from your grief. She sat beside you, her skin warm from the sun, she braided your hair gently. “When I lost my mate, I thought there was no pain greater.”
You said nothing, unable to make yourself speak.
Tsonu’e continued, “When I lost my daughter—I knew there was no greater pain.”
“How did you get through it?” you asked, voice cracking.
Tsonu’e hummed, her fingers gentle on your scalp. “I had to continue for the ones who loved me. Äa. And then you. Just as you must continue for the ones you love.”
You lean against your mother, closing your eyes. She grabs your hand, winding your fingers together as she squeezes it gently.
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That night at dinner, you told Rulì a story about his sister, one not even Tsireya and Ao’nung had heard about. Tsireya laughed with Rulì, and Ao’nung managed a smile. Ronal caught your eye across the fire, and smiled weakly, thankful. You saw Ko’oä in her smile then, the way her eyes crinkled. Tonowari offered you a piece of fruit, his eyes gentle—the same color as Ko’oä’s had been.
In some ways, you figured, it was like she wasn’t really gone.
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The grief came and went. Sometimes you forgot she was gone at all. You always remembered.
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You stared at Ronal, mesmerized by the way her hair fell around her face. She was tending to a wounded warrior, her hands firm. In another universe, you would have met her across the room at a bar, in the crowd of a concert—or grown up with her, holding hands and giving her the prettiest shells you found while icing her bruises. Anywhere in any universe, you felt sure you would find her.
You heard her in every song, and saw her in every dream. You wondered if she would ever stop haunting you.
Ronal glanced up, eyes bouncing between you and Tonowari as she returned to her work. Tsireya stood dutifully next to her, quietly assisting when needed.
Ao’nung was close, only a few feet over. He’d been close since Ko’oä had died, not wanting to leave you alone. He looked up, feeling your eyes on him. He scooted closer to you, and you saw so much of Tonowari’s kindness in that moment you wanted to grab him and hold him like he was that silly little baby again. You smiled at him gently, Ao’nung returned the gesture.
Rulì was standing beside his father, his eyes bright as he straightened his shoulders. Tonowari turned to him, his hand coming down to pat Rulì’s head. You felt nearly breathless.
You loved Tonowari like you were trying to make up for lost time. You played with his hair, fixing his clothes and filled with an inexplicable ache that you did not grow up with him. You never saw him run and play, coming back home with skinned knees and missing front teeth. You liked the idea that there were parallel universes out there, worlds where you got it right—ones where you didn’t. You liked to think that in some universes, you were born in another time. That you and Ronal met as girls and shared a first kiss, that Tonowari entered later. In others, it was just you and him and then her. Mostly, you were happy that this one was the one you have. The one where Tonowari loved you and Ronal, and you loved them both too. You had babies and would grow old together.
In your dreams, you swam all day, and nothing bad ever happened.
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Your new life began when you fell over a boat—in the water.