Nothing like the knowledge that the Queen’s prayer was so close.

Her pace was slower than it had been yesterday, but it was still a good one. She was still moving. When she’d left him, Griffin had been absolutely wiped. Even in the darkness, even though he was trying his best to hide it, she’d seen the steep slant of his shoulders, and heard the wheeze and fatigue in his voice. He’d probably passed out on that ridge last night. But as soon as he woke up, he’d cross the ravine and hunt her all over again. She would be stupid to discount someone of his determination and focus.

She had to keep moving.

She ate the last of her granola bars as she trudged on. She was desperate for water, but she didn’t want to backtrack to the stream she’d crossed a few hours ago. Although backtracking could possibly throw Griffin off, her time and resources were running out. She would press on. She was fire, after all, and fire didn’t need water.

She hadn’t been fooled by anything Griffin said to her—did he really think she believed he was here for any reason other than the Senatus? For anyone but himself?

He, however, had been fooled by the chief.

It made sense Chief would send Griffin after her. If Keko did find the Source and survive, if she brought back the cure, she would be venerated above the Big Island ali’i and all the other island chiefs. She’d be above the Queen. Of course Chief wanted Keko stopped before that could happen. He had other Chimerans covering his weakened ass, after all, and could still live as he had been.

Griffin could go on thinking she was doing this solely for the glory. That was fine by her. He already thought her hotheaded and stubborn and brash. As long as he never knew the real reason. As long as he never found out about the wasting disease. The head Ofarian could never discover a weak link in the Chimeran race.

Bane, though . . . Bane’s motives puzzled her. Messed with her mind. Made her heart feel oddly tight.

There was no room in Chimeran society for familial ties once a person began challenging others to establish their place in the ranks. Bane and Keko had long since ceased being brother and sister, even before she’d ever beaten him for the title of general. So what the hell was he doing? Why would he ask Griffin to find her and bring her home safe? Unless Griffin had misread him.

Unless Griffin was lying. Again.

Both were possible. Neither changed her mind.

The ground was soft from rainfall this close to Hilo. It was pointless to try to keep dry. The damp just kept coming. She was starting to miss the scent of the air within the valley, the smoke and smell of the erupting Kilauea volcano that occasionally drifted to them.

Thick clouds pushed quickly inland, a line of clarity drawn just off the coast where it was tauntingly sunny and dry. She changed her route, finally angling toward the water. There, a little farther northwest on the Hamakua Coast, she would start to look for the geographical markers the Queen’s lover had described. She tried not to worry that the landscape had changed too much.

Movement behind her. A shuffle of leaves, a crack of branches. Small but noticeable, odd and out of place. She whirled.

A flash of dark in the distance. A man sliding behind a tree. Griffin.

She ran.

Didn’t matter how tired she was. Didn’t matter her tongue was sticking to the roof of her mouth. She ran, sprinting through the underbrush and around the hills. She ran, away from the man who would stop her from doing the one good thing in her life she was meant to do. She could hear him pursuing fast. He called her name more than once, and then all she heard was the pound of her bare feet on the uneven earth and the slap of her pack against her back.

She zigzagged, trying to throw him off. The curves around the hills were wide and she followed them left and right instead of taking a straight line that would show Griffin her path. It seemed to be working, because the sound of his pursuit died off. Her breath sawed in and out of her lungs. If she was tired, then she must have seriously worn down the Ofarian.

A few more sprinted steps to prove she’d lost him, and then she finally slowed down. Finally let herself jog. A dormant volcano rose straight ahead, its cone shape now covered in green. She’d head that way and not stop running until night. It was in the opposite direction from where she needed to be, but tomorrow she’d veer back to the water and get her bearings. Tomorrow she’d—

A hard, giant something slammed into her from the right side.

She had no time to react. Just barely enough seconds to whip her head around to make out Griffin’s snarl so close to her face. Then his arms and legs clamped around her, snatching her feet from the ground and tossing her up and over his body. Together they sailed through the damp air.

She hit the dirt and bounced, rolling a little uphill, hitting a massive root, then tumbling back down. The momentum let her find her feet again, and she whirled to see Griffin also recovering from the impact, transforming his fall into a shoulder roll, and then popping into a crouch.

Keko dug deep, drew a Chimeran breath, and spit fire into her hand. Let it burn and crackle and glow with its own life. As he eyed her weapon, she scanned the desolate, windy surroundings, searching for other Secondaries—his backup. No one visible, but she could make out his path, tracing how he’d managed to cut her off. She’d zigged and zagged too much and he’d merely taken the shortest distance between points A and B. A dumb mistake.

Returning her focus to the Ofarian, she noticed with satisfaction the heaving of his chest. He wore no shirt, just a lightweight vest with pockets and zippers.

At his side, one of his hands flexed and curled. Like he was getting ready to arm himself with his own magic.

“I’m ready,” she said, finding a firm stance, giving the fire a good burst of flame. “Not like Makaha. And I won’t miss.”

He didn’t flinch at mention of the man he’d maimed. “I’m not here to fight you.”

She nudged her chin in the direction from which he’d attacked her. “Where are the rest of them? Are they on their way, now that you’ve found me?”

He started to raise his hands, but she snapped out a sword of flame in warning and he lowered them.

“I told you,” he said. “There are no others.”

“I can think and run at the same time, and I came to the conclusion that you’re lying. The only reason you’d be here is for the Senatus.”

“Or you.” His response came so quickly.

“Or the Senatus,” she repeated.

He shook his head at the ground, his hands resting on his hips. His body was the complete opposite of hers: loose and unafraid. Unaffected. She refused to be taken in by that. He wasn’t going to get her to lower her guard.

“Three years,” he said to the dirt. His dark hair was shiny with sweat and rain.

Then those brown eyes flipped up to hers under the canopy of his furrowed brow. That look—the way he looked—made her suck in a breath. Made her fire actually falter on her fingers.

“Three years you had my phone number and you never called. I thought you hated me, and when I first saw you in that garage in Colorado I thought I’d been right. And then there was something else. I saw the truth deep in your eyes. I saw in your eyes what I heard in your voice when you finally did call me days ago. That, Keko, that is why I’m here.”

For a split second she was tempted to let the fire go. Instead she touched her palms together as if in Primary prayer, spreading the flame between her hands.

Griffin watched her, but not in fear. Respect maybe, but not fear. She didn’t know which she wanted more.

He said, “You think all you’re worth is what you can prove to others. I came after you to tell you that I think you’re worth much more.”