Missing Pieces Apparently, goddesses were sore losers. Lei sat with Tūtū and Ilikea at the small kitchen table loaded with her favorite foods, pondering her recent life choices that got them stuck here. Here being back at Tūtū's house in Volcano Village (yay!) with her best friend and ancestral guardian, Kaipo (double yay!), but without the pendant that would keep him safe as an ʻaumakua (quadruple-infinity boo). Lei stifled a yawn as she snagged a pineapple chunk from the bowl in the middle of the table with her chopsticks and dipped it in her poi. The nightmare had come again last night and jolted Lei awake--Kaipo crying out at the hands of Pele and her henchman hawk, ʻIo. It took hours to convince her brain it was safe to go back to sleep. Served her right. Maybe her tūtū had forgiven her for picking the sacred lehua blossom and angering Pele, the fire goddess, but Kaipo? How could he possibly forgive her after what she did? Lei stuffed the fruit in her mouth and strained her ears. Nothing but silence from the back bedroom, where Kaipo had been lying the past two days, healing. The poi-covered pineapple piece lodged in her throat. She forced it down, her eyes watering. Laying her chopsticks across the edge of her plate, Lei rubbed her forehead. She hadn't meant to get her best friend--and family 'aumakua--captured when she picked Pele's flower. And she definitely hadn't known that Pele would take Kaipo's pendant. Now he was an ʻaumakua in distress, his body acting like he was a mere mortal, complete with-slow-healing wounds. Lei tried using her moʻo scale, a world-class healing agent from an ancient giant lizard--like animal, but wasn't able to fix him. No one was sure why it worked for her but not for him. Worst. Friend. Ever. Lei snapped her hair band on her wrist, punctuating her thoughts. Tūtū gave her a look and Lei straightened her shoulders. The last thing she wanted to do was change Tūtū's mind on the whole forgiveness thing. She needed to be helpful. She needed to find that necklace. "What if Makani goes and spies on Pele?" Lei wondered aloud, thinking about her favorite playful wind. "Maybe they'd find out where she put the necklace." The wind tugged twice on her hair, clearly pleased to be included in the plan. Ilikea frowned, the white plumeria behind her left ear bobbing as she forked the remaining chow mein from the center serving dish onto her ceramic plate with one hand. Her other hand fiddled with the new ivory-colored bat pendant hanging from a black cord. It was a gift from the snow goddess Poliʻahu for Ilikea's role in Kaipo's rescue--evidence of her graduation to a full-fledged 'aumakua with the ability to change shapes. Lei felt herself staring at the girl, searching for signs of her familiar bat form. Her hand movements were a little erratic, her eyes were still black. Her thick hair darkened from a rich golden color around her face to not-quite-black as the wavy ends reached her mid-back, the flower behind her ear where the white patch of fur used to be. The girl spoke up between bites. "I mean, yeah, cool, another chance to become flash-fried." Sarcasm wrapped her words. Then she lowered her fork and made her eyes really big, like a genius idea had just popped into her head. "Or, hear me out on this wild and wacky thought, we could all stay far away from that fiery mess and never go up the volcano again. Let bygones be pau-gones." "It isn't pau yet, though. Pele made sure it isn't over. I'll go back up myself if I have to. Kaipo isn't getting better," Lei insisted. Maybe it was the lack of sleep blurring away the chaos and making the solution seem crystal clear, like looking through an old scuffed snorkel mask and only being able to see the fish right in front of her. Only, the missing necklace was the fish. And Lei needed to catch it. Get it. Find it. Whatever, her brain was swimming. She just needed to hold it together long enough to get Kaipo back to normal. Then maybe he'd forgive her. Then maybe the nightmares would stop. "You're not going up da mountain," Tūtū said. Lei flinched at the finality of her tone. "I've gotta do something." "Pretty sure we all know your chances of coming back alive a second time are slim to nada," Ilikea said before stuffing her mouth with a final bite of noodles. Lei sighed. Apparently, Ili had an attitude as a bat and as a girl. Tūtū patted Lei's shoulder as she pushed herself up from the chair to get the semi-full pan of noodles. "Eat, eat. Get plenty more." She scooped more onto the serving dish. "Here's da thing," Tūtū continued, "time is of the essence, yeah?" Lei looked back at the refrigerator. The calendar hanging from a hook suction-cupped to the side of it showed a vibrantly colored illustration of a large dark-skinned woman surfing above the current month of June. The big red circle around next Saturday that had seemed so far away last week now seemed like it was sneaking up fast. "I know, I fly out in two Saturdays." There were only about two weeks left of Lei's vacation in Hawaiʻi before she'd go back to Colorado. Back to the life where she was formerly known as "Anna." This time she'd be stepping off that plane proudly as Lei--her Hawaiian name. Dad'd probably be thrilled she was owning her culture. "Das not what I mean," Tūtū said darkly. Goose bumps crept up Lei's arms and Makani blew out of the kitchen and hid in the curtains, causing them to billow. Excerpted from Lei and the Invisible Island by Malia Maunakea All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
