“Aya said it herself. She overheard Chief and Bane telling me privately about you and your quest, and she sprung up out of the earth, almost exactly like that treeman did, and she demanded in front of the whole Senatus that you be stopped, or else they would kill you.”

Aya? No. Not quiet, inquisitive Aya. Not the strange woman whom Keko had dared to consider a friend. Keko felt disturbingly weak and painfully blind. Brave Queen, why was she so damn stupid sometimes?

Unless . . . unless Aya had placed faith in Griffin that he could stop Keko and prevent a Chimeran death at the hands of the Children. That tactical and political maneuver made more sense, but it still hurt—all this deception, all this manipulation, when Keko just wanted to make things right for her people.

“Do you see now?” Griffin said. “Do you get it? I couldn’t let that happen, just let them hunt you. So, yes, I came to stop you, but it was to prevent massive destruction, too. I didn’t tell you that part because I knew you’d think I was lying just to make you give it all up.”

She stood there so long trying to process his words that the fire on her arm died. When it went out, he heaved a visible sigh.

“When I came here,” he said, “I thought that you were about to destroy yourself in the name of a ridiculous, outdated bit of Chimeran culture. I continued to think that up until last night, when you told me the real reason why you’re here. Your conviction and your purpose are stronger than anything I’ve ever known, stronger than any Source, touched or untouched. Something changed in me last night. You changed me.” He placed a hand on his bare chest, the gesture infuriatingly sincere. “And I want to tell you that I no longer wish to stop you. I want to help you succeed.”

The only sound in the room was the still-running shower. It created a drone in her mind, convoluting all these statements and stories he’d fed her. Messing with her emotions.

Water. Ruining everything.

“You don’t want to help me.”

“Yes. I do.” Another step closer. “These last three years have been a waste. An absolute fucking waste. I believe in what you have to do for your people—this disease, this cure—because I would do exactly the same for mine. And I want to help you.”

She squeezed her eyes shut so tightly she saw stars. Stars. His stars. The ones he swore on before she told him about the Chimeran disease.

What had she done?

Opening her eyes, she saw him inching closer. She showed him the fire in her irises and in the back of her throat, and he stopped coming forward.

Then he repeated, “I want to help you.”

No. She would not fall for his words again. “Stop. Fucking. Saying that.”

“It’s the truth.”

“There is no truth when it comes to you. Except maybe for this.” Right as she said it, his game became entirely clear. The whole thing unfolded before her, taking on the color of fury. She formed a new fireball in her hand and went right up to him, teasing him with death and magic.

All he did was fold his arms and stare her down. “This should be good.”

“What if you orchestrated the premier’s death?”

He sputtered before finally ejecting a: “What?”

“It makes sense. I think you had no trouble at all trading me for your precious Senatus seat. I think the moment you heard about me running loose you saw your opportunity and grabbed it.”

He vehemently shook his head but she wasn’t buying it. “Wait a sec—”

“You come to Hawaii to bring me back and then you’ll finally get your seat around the bonfire. Meanwhile, since you’re nowhere near the mainland and the murder couldn’t be traced to you, you hire this other rebel air elemental to off the premier. Since the Senatus is waiting on word of your success with me to admit you, they decide to postpone the election of a new premier.”

His jaw clenched. “I thought you learned your lesson about jumping to conclusions. At least that’s what you told me. You’re paranoid and grasping for any explanation now. That’s so fucking ridiculous.”

She let out an ugly laugh. “Is it? Pardon me while I jump to a few more conclusions. How goddamn convenient for you, this timing. You’ll show up at the next gathering having saved the day—no, wait, the whole entire world—and they’ll have to be stupid not to vote you premier. Ta-da. You get everything you’ve ever wanted.”

His chest pumped hard. “Not everything, Keko.”

“And the killer part?” She choked on her voice, trying to stamp down the rising tears. “I told you my people’s biggest weakness. Are you dying to exploit that?”

“You need to calm down.” He stepped closer to her fire. “I swore on my stars. That secret stays in here.” He tapped his forehead.

Flame crackled between them, the ball in her hand jumping and dancing.

“I never should’ve picked you up at the airport.” Seconds later she realized she’d whispered it, but no amount of fire could burn the sentence from existence.

His shoulders dipped, his head sagging to one side. “It would’ve happened anyway. You and me. Don’t you see that? Don’t you get what’s between us?”

That snapped her focus and anger back into place. “It was a mistake. All of it.”

“You don’t mean that. Keko, I’ve lied to you, yes. But I think you really know that I won’t turn you over to them. It’s just easier for you to be angry, to react to surprise. It’s your nature and I get that, but you’re thinking crazy. Listen to my words, to all that I’ve just told you right here, right now in this room. Because that is the truth.”

“What are you going to do? Pray tell, oh mighty Ofarian leader. Tell me how you plan to heal my people and win their favor without ever disturbing the Source. Tell me how you’ll get that Senatus seat and be voted premier, and everyone will gaze up at you in admiration. Tell me, oh fabulous Griffin, how you plan to trick me into never being able to let you go for the rest of my life. How you plan to conquer and trap my heart, but never let yours go.”

“Keko . . .”

He reached for her then. For her face, where her flames didn’t touch. He wasn’t scared, didn’t remotely flinch. And that scared her.

She stumbled backward, out of his reach. “God, I hate you. I hate you so much.”

She had to get away from him. Immediately. Only one option remained.

Gathering all her fire—everything that she held in her palm and every little spark from deep inside her—she let it build and smolder, a great balloon of heat that turned her skin to shimmering white-hot red, like metal buried in coals.

Fear finally came to Griffin’s expression and he backed away, but it was too late. Keko released her magic—a blast from a furnace, an invisible cloud of heat. It slammed into him, flipped his body backward, sent him sprawling. Keko let him lie there. No movement from his twisted limbs. She went over, toed his shoulder to roll his body onto his back, and saw that his chest still moved. The lights of consciousness, however, were completely out. Good.

She swallowed, looking down at his slack jaw and jelly limbs. “I’m leaving now,” she said. “And I can’t have you following me. Can’t have you stopping me. This time, it’s really over.”

Before she could change her mind, she sprinted from the B and B, pausing only for a second at the bottom of the porch steps to consider her direction. Griffin knew the location of the Fire Source. So did she, and she’d need a boat to get there. Hilo was by far the biggest place to grab a charter on this side of the island, and that’s where Griffin would expect her to go.

So she fled the opposite way.

When she’d made it up the steep, windy slope, she felt a profound tug on her conscience. Stopping, she turned around to see the B and B, a hundred yards below, nestled in a vee of green land. As she stood there, the door to their room banged open and Griffin stumbled out. Shirtless, holding his head and weaving on his feet, he leaned heavily against the railing. At this distance she couldn’t make out his face, but she saw his head swing around. Looking for her. Quickly she ducked behind a tree. What was the range on his damn Ofarian bloodhound senses?