Racing the Dark by Alaya Dawn Johnson

little to see if her mother was there and then fell back on the pillow, exhausted. She was alone. Her mother had left some water by the bed for her, but she wasn't sure if she had the energy to drink it. I must be sick, she thought. She certainly felt sick, but for some reason it hadn't seemed like a possibility before. She had just begun to drift off again when her mother opened the door.
    Her face was pale and her back was unnaturally straight, as though she might collapse if she relaxed it. Lana wondered what had happened. Leilani looked at her and then ran to the bed.
    "You're awake! How do you feel?" She set a small bag down on the floor and pulled the covers up over Lana. "Do you want some water?"
    Lana let her mother tip some water down her throat and leaned back against her pillow when she had had enough. When had she ever felt this weak? She didn't recognize her own body, and she hated her helplessness. Ever since they had left the island, everything in her life had gone careening out of control, and she didn't know how to get it back again.
    "Mama," she began to say, but Leilani shushed her.
    "You don't have to say anything. I know it hurts. Here, I bought you some medicine that will help. You'll get better soon, Lana. I promise."
    Her mother was scared. This realization ought to frighten her, Lana thought, but instead she found it comforting. Her mother was no longer the infallible goddess of her youth-she was human, and scared, and trying to hide it, and Lana loved her. Leilani stood up and took out a judicious amount of a dried green herb from the bag and used it to brew tea. She poured a cup, waited until it had cooled enough, and then sat patiently beside Lana again.

    "You have to drink all of it. It probably won't taste very good, though, so I'm sorry."
    Lana shook her head and drank the whole thing obediently, even when it hurt her throat to swallow. The warmth briefly stopped her shivers, and made her feel sleepy.
    "Mama," she said again as Leilani gently smoothed her hair away from her forehead. "I'll be all right."
    Two tears, unmistakable, streaked their way down her mother's cheeks. "I'm sure you will, Lana. You should sleep."
    So she did.
    The man had been propositioning Leilani for weeks. It started with broad winks and suggestive hand gestures that had become progressively vulgar as time went on. Heluma, she knew, did the occasional sexual favor for extra cash, but the idea had always been repugnant to Leilani. She wanted nothing to do with the weatherbeaten, self-assured merchant, no matter how many expensive chains he wore around his neck. As her supply of the precious medicine dwindled, however, and she was faced with the impossible prospect of finding a thousand extra kala, she began to consider it. She forced herself past her own nausea to smile at the merchant as she served him sour palm wine, or refilled his hookah bowl with mid-grade amant. Sometimes, she even brushed his shoulder suggestively with her arm as she left. He responded to her slightly less frosty behavior with even more obscene propositions.
    "I want you in my bed, Lei," he growled the night before she ran out of the medicine. He was on his third bowl of amant. He was impeccably dressed, as usual, but the way his slicked-back graying hair shone in the lamplight made her feel nauseous. Heluma clearly thought he was a good prospect-unhandsome, but not unappealing, and clearly wealthy. But Leilani felt ill at even the thought of going to bed with him. "Why d'you think I've been coming to this crummy place every night for the past three weeks? I've got plenty enough money to frequent more high-class establishments." He rattled his chains suggestively.

    Leilani was thinking of Lana, who was getting better enough to talk for a few sentences without coughing. What would happen if she ran out of the medicine?
    "For a price," she said.
    He looked at her appraisingly. "Now that's what I like to hear. How much? You've kept me away for so