Chapter 40: Smoke and Salt
1446 Words
The air had a bite to it that morning — not cold, but charged, like a storm was waiting somewhere in the distance, watching.
Waiya stood barefoot in the dirt, arms raised, breath steady. Sweat slid down the back of her neck as she moved through the sequence Granny had drilled into her bones: balance, stance, spirit, release.
Her aura snapped once — not in rage, but power. A silent boom that rippled across the yard like thunder under the skin.
“You felt that?” she asked without turning, knowing Justin stood behind her.
“Yeah,” he said. “The ground shifted.”
Waiya exhaled and lowered her hands, wiping her brow with the hem of her shirt. Her movements were sharper today. Fluid. Like something had finally started syncing inside her again.
But there was something else.
A flicker of nausea had crept up when she first woke, but she’d brushed it off as nerves or poor sleep. She didn’t have time for sickness. Not now. Not when everything was about to tilt again.
“You good?” Justin asked, stepping close, his hand brushing her lower back gently.
“Mmhm,” she murmured. “Just pushed a little too hard.”
Granny sat on the porch, hands stained with something dark — herbs, maybe ink. A long coil of something fibrous sat at her feet, soaking in a wooden bowl that smelled like iron and cedar.
Granny’s eyes met Waiya’s briefly. That same quiet assessment.
Then she turned to Justin and motioned him over with a crook of her finger.
“You need to finish what we started,” she told him. “It’s almost ready.”
“What is it?” Waiya asked.
Granny didn’t answer directly. “Protection,” she said instead. “The kind that holds. Not breaks.”
Waiya narrowed her eyes. “For what?”
Granny gave her that slow blink, lips twitching like she wanted to say something but wouldn’t. “You’ll know when it’s time.”
Justin kissed Waiya’s temple before following Granny inside.
She watched him go, heart thumping harder than it should. Not because she was worried, but because she felt… full. In a strange way.
Full of heat. Full of motion. Full of something blooming beneath the surface she didn’t have words for yet.
She shook it off and turned back to the yard.
The training wasn’t done.
Waiya pulled her braid tighter and flexed her fingers.
Something still buzzed beneath her skin.
Not danger. But not peace either.
She dropped into a defensive stance and let her energy roll through her feet, spreading into the ground. Her shadows flickered, then stretched outward like they were testing the edges of her reach.
A familiar shuffle of sandals against gravel pulled her head up.
Her mother.
Standing at the edge of the garden like she’d been there a while — arms crossed, head tilted, not smiling but not frowning either.
Waiya tensed instinctively, wiping her hands on her leggings.
“You tryna sneak up on me?” she asked, voice dry.
“I didn’t need to,” her mother said. “You were too focused to notice.”
Waiya shrugged. “Isn’t that the point of training?”
Her mother stepped forward, eyes scanning her slowly — not in judgment, but like she was seeing something Waiya couldn’t.
“You’ve been glowing different lately,” she said softly.
Waiya’s brow furrowed. “From the training.”
Her mother didn’t respond right away.
She reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind Waiya’s ear, fingers brushing her temple. It was so tender it almost pissed Waiya off.
“You always had a wild rhythm,” she murmured. “But now it’s… rounder. Like the beat’s changed.”
Waiya pulled back just a little. “You hear my rhythm now?”
Her mother smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I never stopped.”
They stood in silence for a breath too long before her mother finally said, “I’m proud of how far you’ve come. Even if I don’t say it.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
That earned her a soft chuckle, but then her mother’s gaze flicked toward the house.
“You should rest tonight. Don’t push too hard.”
“Why?” Waiya challenged.
But her mother was already turning away. “No reason.”
A lie.
Waiya felt it in her gut but let her go.
She turned back toward the tree line to cool her head, but Nyla was already there — leaning against the fence with a smirk, a little dirt smudged on her jeans, her hair tied up in a messy bun.
“You know she’s been watching you every morning?” Nyla said.
“She could say something useful while she’s at it.”
Nyla hopped the fence like it was nothing and strolled up. “She says more than you think. You just don’t always listen.”
Waiya rolled her eyes but smiled anyway.
“Kaia’s asking questions I don’t got answers for yet,” Nyla admitted. “She’s gifted, but still scattered. Still full of holes. Like she’s looking through fog all the time.”
“You’re training her?”
“Someone has to,” Nyla said. “Granny’s busy with you. Mom’s too wrapped up in whatever spirit-whispers she’s catching. And Lily? She’s got her own mess to clean.”
They stood shoulder to shoulder, both facing the yard.
“You okay though?” Nyla asked.
Waiya tilted her head. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Nyla glanced sideways, eyes narrow. “You just… look like something’s shifting. More than power. Something under.”
Waiya sucked her teeth. “Y’all act like I’m sprouting horns.”
“Not horns,” Nyla said. “But maybe roots. Or wings.”
Waiya laughed, shaking her head. “That’s poetic.”
Nyla tapped her lightly on the arm. “Don’t ignore your body, Waiya. Even warriors gotta stop and listen sometimes.”
Waiya turned to head back toward the house, but before she could take three steps, she heard the creak of the back door and the soft patter of fast feet on the porch.
“Waiya!”
Kaia’s voice came like a spark — bright, high, a little too loud for the quiet in the air.
Waiya blinked as the girl came flying down the steps, nearly tripping over her own feet in excitement. Her eyes were wide like she’d just seen a star fall.
Waiya raised a brow. “What’s got you all charged up?”
Kaia stopped in front of her, practically vibrating. Her hands fidgeted like they were trying to build something invisible in the air between them.
“I felt you,” Kaia said breathlessly, eyes locking on Waiya’s belly for a half second before she snapped them back up to her face. “Like… really felt you. You’re glowing different. Not just spirit power, but like… life kind of glowing and—”
“Kaia,” Nyla cut in, fast, voice sharp like a twig snapping underfoot.
The girl blinked and clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oops.”
Waiya tilted her head slowly. “What was that?”
Kaia looked to Nyla, then back to Waiya with wide, apologetic eyes.
“I wasn’t gonna say it,” she said, grinning nervously. “Not out loud, anyway.”
“You just did,” Waiya muttered, suspicious now.
But Nyla stepped between them casually, placing a gentle hand on Kaia’s shoulder. “She’s been training too hard,” Nyla said smoothly. “Getting ahead of herself. Right, Kaia?”
Kaia nodded so fast her curls bounced. “Mhm. Super ahead. Like, miles. I probably need more grounding exercises. And maybe food.”
Waiya narrowed her eyes at them both, her instincts flaring like smoke around a smothered fire.
“Why do I feel like y’all are keeping secrets again?”
Nyla smirked. “’Cause we are. We’re women. It’s what we do.”
Kaia giggled and ducked her head, clearly trying to hide the rest of her giddiness.
Waiya sighed and brushed past them both, muttering, “Y’all gon’ give me a migraine.”
But as she stepped inside the house, the whisper of Kaia’s slip-up clung to her like a shadow. Life glowing. Not just spirit. That strange warmth in her stomach. The subtle pull in her chest every time Justin got close. The way her mother had looked at her — like she knew something.
Waiya shook it off.
She couldn’t afford to be distracted right now.
Whatever Kaia thought she saw… it could wait.
- Writer
