When we returned, the sky had darkened, the light taking on that eerie hue that hinted at the approaching eclipse. Neither Jake nor I had seen the kids; we assumed they were off with Tsireya and Ao'nung. We made our way back to the marui, anticipation and unease threading through every step.
Suddenly, Neteyam came running, Kiri cradled limply in his arms. Behind him, Lo'ak, Tsireya, Tuk, and Rotxo were close on his heels.
"Dad! Ayla! Help! It's Kiri—she had a seizure underwater at the Sprint Tree!"
Instinct took over. I rushed forward, taking Kiri gently from Neteyam and laying her down on her mat inside the marui. Jake's hand was already moving for his comms, intent on contacting some Sky People friends who might help. But as much as I trusted Jake with his children, I didn't trust outsiders near my family.
Instead, I turned to RonaI. "Tonowari, RonaI," I called. "Kiri needs your help, Tsahìk. It's urgent."
RonaI gathered her tools quickly, Tsireya trailing behind her, holding the mother's healing tray. When we returned, we found another Na'vi and a human already there, inspecting small devices with images—scans of Kiri's brain. Their calm efficiency clashed with the panic gnawing at my chest.
RonaI paused, giving me a look of quiet determination. "I see that I am not needed here," she muttered.
"You are Tsahìk. They can leave," I insisted, my gaze firm as I gestured toward Kiri's limp form. "Remove these things. They've done nothing to help."
The strangers scrambled to comply, packing up their gear with murmured apologies. Jake followed them out, leaving me in the marui beside Kiri. Tuk had quietly slipped inside and now sat behind her sister's head, assisting RonaI with a small jar of healing salve.
Hours passed, each minute stretching like an eternity. RonaI worked tirelessly, murmuring chants under her breath and poking Kiri with delicate needles. Slowly, Kiri stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, and she began to cry. I was at her side in an instant, murmuring soothing words, cradling her small body. Jake slipped in behind me, resting a hand on my thigh, smiling down at his daughter as relief softened his features.
⸻
A few days later, Kiri was recovering steadily. She wasn't quite her usual vibrant self yet, but her spark was returning. The morning was bright, and as we tidied the marui, a conch horn blasted in the distance. Tsireya swept past on her Ilu, shouting with exhilaration:
"The Tulkun have returned! Our brothers and sisters are back!"
We rushed outside, everyone emerging from the marui, all except Kiri. Tuk dashed back inside to fetch her sister, while the others ran toward the beach, eager to greet the returning Tulkun.
I grabbed Jake's hand, tugging him toward the water. "Come meet my spirit sister," I said, unable to contain my excitement.
Grinning, he followed, wrapping his arms around my waist as we dove into the ocean. I whistled for a Tsirak, Rini responding immediately. Together, we navigated through the waters teeming with Tulkun and Metkayina. Neteyam explored the shallows on his Ilu, Lo'ak stayed close to Tsireya, and Kiri and Tuk rode on the fins of Rotxo's Tulkun companion.
I searched for my own spirit sister, and then I saw her—Kame. She poked her head above the water, calling out. I tapped Jake's thigh and pointed. We swam over, slipping off the Tsirak as I introduced him.
"This is Kame," I signed. "Her name means 'to see,' spiritually."
She whistled back, tail swishing with excitement. "I see you, sister. I am happy."
I laughed as she flapped her tail emphatically. "And this is Jake—my mate."
Her eyes lit up, shrilling in delight. "Finally! You have settled down! I am happy for you, sister."
Hours later, the pod began to move to deeper waters to feed. With a soft sigh, I took Jake back to the surface. We returned to the beach, the children chattering excitedly about their adventures. Tuk could hardly stop talking, recounting every detail, and even through dinner, the excitement lingered until they eventually fell asleep.
For Jake and me, this was our first night side by side as mates. I curled into his chest, feeling the warmth of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear. We fell asleep in peaceful silence, wrapped in the comfort of our newfound bond.
⸻
The next morning, I woke in Jake's arms, the kids slowly stirring around us. Tsireya would soon arrive for training, so I roused them gently, preparing them for the day. Rain clouds loomed overhead, promising a softer day of weaving and crafting instead of rigorous training. Jake and I lingered in the marui, quietly eating fruit.
Soon, the first drops began to patter against the roof, scattering ripples across the sea. I picked up a weaving project I had been working on—a small, basket-like plate—and lit a fire in the center of the hut. We settled beside it, letting the warmth and the smell of burning wood fill the space as the storm began outside.
We were laughing together at something Jake said when Tonowari passed by. He seemed muted, heavy with unease. He paused at the doorway before moving on, and we immediately rose to meet him.
"What's wrong?" I asked, concern tightening my chest.
He sighed, gaze drifting toward the horizon. "Sky People. They are looking for you, Jake Sully... south. They have a human boy who speaks Na'vi."
Jake's voice dropped to a whisper, almost reverent in its caution. "Did they kill anyone?"
Tonowari shook his head. "Not yet. They have threatened, but the villagers will not reveal your location—by my order." He moved on down the path, leaving us with the weight of the revelation.
Back inside, the silence hung thick, broken only by the crackle of the fire. I continued weaving, but my hands worked more out of habit than focus. Finally, I asked, "Why do they hunt you?"
Jake's gaze was distant. "Revenge. I killed them in the war when I was Toruk Makto... and now they seek to destroy me."
"And the human boy?"
He exhaled sharply. "His name is Spider. I adopted him when he was just a child, left alone on Pandora. I... I killed his father during the war, and now he has returned—taken by them and turned into a Na'vi. And he's hunting me."
I absorbed his words, touched despite the story's weight. "If we know where this demon is... shouldn't we hunt him? Stop him?"
Jake shook his head. "No. We have to be smart. If we hunt him now, he'll know exactly where I am—and he'll come with everything he has."
I paused, letting his words settle. "Then... what is our plan?"
He met my eyes, his voice low and determined. "Patience. Strategy. We wait for the right moment."
I nodded, feeling the gravity of it all, but also the certainty of us together. Whatever came next, we would face it side by side.
