“No.” He shook his head. “I just want what I want, what I think is best. I’m stubborn and maybe a little bit selfish, not spectacular.”

She cocked her head, her blond ponytail swinging. “What do you want more? Keko or the Senatus? Because you can’t have both.”

He already knew that, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear. He searched Gwen’s face, thinking how to respond. “I want Keko alive so she can give herself another chance in life. But when it comes down to it, I just want what’s best for Henry.”

Gwen smiled, but it was tight-lipped and small. “See?” She sighed. “Spectacular.”

 • • •

The road to the Chimeran stronghold on the Big Island of Hawaii was exactly as Cat Heddig had described: a treacherous, rocky, barely discernible dirt line carving up through the thick trees and undergrowth somewhere on the island’s easternmost section. By the time Griffin swung the rented four-wheel-drive SUV into the cluster of three decrepit, turn-of-last-century buildings meant to disguise the entrance to Chimeran land, his teeth ached from being consistently jarred and his stomach felt queasy from all the twists and turns and dips to get there.

Standing in the middle of the dirt road, just outside a poor excuse for a convenience store, was Bane and another male Chimeran warrior. Bane’s massive arms were crossed over his bare chest. The other warrior, shorter and leaner, had a black tattoo of whorls and lines covering one shoulder, and wore a band of white beads around his neck.

Griffin stopped the SUV in the road, the grill just feet from Bane’s unflinching stance. Griffin slid out from behind the wheel, leaving the engine running. Instantly, Secondary signatures assaulted his mind. Bane’s was nearly overwhelming, a steady thrum of power lacing itself through Griffin’s awareness. Much like Keko’s. He wondered if their family blood had something to do with the strength of their magic, if it had contributed to their rise to the top of their people.

“Bane,” Griffin said, not stretching out a hand for a shake because the larger Chimeran hadn’t unfolded his arms.

“It’s ‘General’ to you,” said the other Chimeran, stepping forward.

“Ikaika,” Bane murmured, not removing his stare from Griffin. “It’s okay. He’s here for Keko.”

The warrior named Ikaika looked as surprised at Bane’s response as Griffin felt. The two Chimerans exchanged a look, and a wordless understanding seemed to pass between them. As Ikaika nodded, falling back again, Griffin studied him.

Not only was Ikaika smaller than Bane, his signature was far weaker. A thready, stuttering pulse that merely teased Griffin’s senses. Odd.

“Get in,” Bane gestured to the SUV. “I’ll drive.”

As Griffin hoisted himself into the passenger seat, Bane gave him a hand signal telling him to wait, and the two Chimeran men went into the convenience store. The Hawaiian sun shot down between billowing puffs of silver clouds threatening rain, hitting the grimy windows of the store, but Griffin could still make out the Chimerans’ silhouettes. Bane was talking, Ikaika’s face lifted in rapt attention. Finally Ikaika nodded, hands going to his hips.

Then Bane touched him. Even through the darkened window, even only in silhouette, the embrace was a powerful thing. No, embrace wasn’t a good word for it. Griffin stared, fascinated and curious. Bane’s hand went around Ikaika’s neck, and he pulled the warrior to him. As their foreheads and noses touched, Ikaika also slid his hand around Bane’s neck and they each took a deep, simultaneous breath.

The separation was a slow process, but by the time Bane marched out of the store, his shoulders had resumed their tense position and the familiar scowl was back in place. Griffin had to look away, out through the windshield, because at that moment Bane reminded him far too much of Keko.

Bane threw the SUV into drive and it took off with a jolt past the three vine-covered buildings. He pitched it over a steep edge and followed some kind of pseudo-road that Griffin never would have been able to find. Finally the land flattened out a bit, the foliage parting over the windshield, and Bane stopped the car with a violent jerk. Griffin unclenched his fingers from where they’d been wrapped around the door handle.

Bane’s hands made fists on his thighs. “I want you to help Keko.”

“I am,” Griffin said. “I will.”

“No.” Bane swung his head toward the passenger seat. “I mean, I want you to help her find the Source.”

Griffin reached for the door handle again, feeling as though they’d taken another sudden dive down that steep road. “I . . . don’t understand. I’m supposed to bring her back before she gets to that point.”

Bane shook his head. “That’s what Chief wants. Self-preservation and all that. Imagine what would happen to his position if Keko succeeded and she waltzed back into the valley with the Queen’s treasure.”

“But what Aya said—”

“No. There’s got to be a way for Keko to get to the Source.”

The desperation in Bane’s eyes, the tension in his body, was alien and worrisome, huge and alarming.

“How you acted toward me at the Senatus,” Griffin said, “getting all pissed off that I’d driven her away—”

Bane snarled. “I had to, in front of the ali’i. In front of all the others.”

Griffin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, you need to tell me what the hell is going on.”

Bane rolled his eyes toward the driver’s side window. “No, I don’t. I need you to help my sister get to the Source and bring back the magic. If I could go after her myself, I would. But I can’t.”

None of this made any sense. Did Bane want him to take part in some sort of coup? Griffin refused to be used like that. He turned in the seat toward Bane, stabbing a finger at his own knee for emphasis. “Look. I’m here to stop Keko from killing herself. I’m here to prevent potential massive devastation to the earth.”

With a growl, Bane threw open his door and jumped out. He slammed it shut with such force it sent the car rocking. Griffin had no choice but to follow, stomping after the general as he descended a twisting, jagged path down into the valley. They came around a bend and the whole Chimeran stronghold—the place hidden from all other Secondaries for over a thousand years—opened up before him.

The sight matched Cat’s description perfectly: the sagging, white-boarded homes with the tin roofs stacked up the mountainsides; an enormous, rippling tarp covering a collection of picnic tables; the ocean sparkling in the distance; and the great meadow the center of it all. The one thing Cat hadn’t mentioned was the long, one-story building at the very base of the mountain, just opposite the field.

Griffin stared at it, hearing Keko’s disgusted voice on that fateful night three years ago, describing what would happen to Makaha. “That the Common House?”

Bane stopped walking. “Yeah.”

Is Makaha there now? Griffin wanted to ask. Can I see him? Can I talk to him? Knowing full well he could not. Griffin’s presence in Hawaii was secret, known only by Bane and the chief—and now, strangely, Ikaika. Hopefully someday he would be able to meet Makaha’s eyes and personally express his regret, to talk with him man to man and not enemy to enemy, but today was not that day.

“Chief’s waiting,” Bane barked, and took off again.

They circumvented the field and entered the back door of the only house perched on the edge of the wide area of grass. Inside it was damp and sparsely decorated, all the furniture basic, uncoordinated, and warped. The chief, wearing a troubled look, sat at the dining room table. He kicked out a chair for Griffin.

“I need to get going. She’s already got a two-day head start on me.” Griffin hoisted his pack farther onto his back and did not take the offered seat. “Tell me everything I need to know. And fast.”