After two pleasant days of sailing in perfect wind ditions, we sailed into Kewalo Basin Harbor, between downtown Honolulu and Waikiki. After a brief sultation, we decided to book a hotel instead of sleeping on the boat. We all needed solid grouh our feet, especially Rue.

  I found the Turtle Beach Resort on my phone, and we all headed there. The resort lobby weled us with a hint of orchids in the air and the sound of waves rolling through the open windows. After grabbing the keys to our three-room suite, we settled in ao the hotel restaurant. The pce smelled terrific—fresh seafood and butter sizzling away. Rue, of course, wasted no time charming his way into the hearts of every kid within sight. Before I k, he was trotting to the water slide attendants, tail wagging like crazy, clearly i oiating his way into a few runs down the slides. That dog could talk his way into anything.

  I opehe puter, aarted pnning our week in Hawaii. ed out our week, with Alforying to pa as many workshops as possible, while I mentally vowed to spend most of my time lounging by the beach. After a long and arduous discussion, our itinerary looked like this:

  Day 1: Sunday

  M:A hike to Diamond Head Crater, with panoramic views of Honolulu and the Pacific O.I po take A LOT of pictures.Afternoon:Waikiki Beach: Afternoon of rexation on Waikiki Beach, swimming, sunbathing, or a surfing lesson.The lesson was mainly for Alfonsen—Mahya and I had a ton of points.Evening:Di Duke’s Waikiki with live Hawaiian music.?━━━━???━━━━?

  Day 2: Monday

  M:Visit Ioni Pace, the only royal pa the Uates, and learn about Hawaiian history.Afternoon:A Moaer: Shopping and di one of the rgest open-air shoppiers in the world.Evening:Magid Lagoon: Watch the su Magid.And, of course, picture time.?━━━━???━━━━?

  Day 3: Tuesday

  M:Snorkeling at Hanauma Bay.Maybe we will eve a skill for it (or at least, that’s how I vinced Alfonsen.)Afternoon:Lunch at Nico’s Pier 38.Fresh seafood sounded great.Evening:Luau at the Paradise Cove.?━━━━???━━━━?

  Day 4: Wednesday

  M:Bishop Museum: Exhibits on Hawaiian culture, history, and natural sces.I warhe peanut gallery to shut up about old things dug up from the ground. I liked them, and they could keep their opinions to themselves.Mahya opted to joihink she still hoped to ce upon long-fotten runes, but Alfonsen deed. After a Google search, I booked him a Haku Lei-Making Css.Afternoon:Lunch at Helena’s Hawaiian Food.Authentic Hawaiian dishes. Yey!Evening:Sm Poetry Workshop.Mahya didn’t want this workshop and said she would spend the evening on the beach. Alfonsen was ecstatic about another workshop, and I wahe skill.?━━━━???━━━━?

  Day 5: Thursday

  M:Hu Workshop in the Polynesian Cultural ter.Lunch:Lunch at Aloha Tower.Evening:Su Dinner Cruise.We put this down as a maybe, since we sailed a lot and weren’t sure we wanted more sailing.?━━━━???━━━━?

  Day 6: Friday

  M:Manoa Falls Hike.Picture time.Afternoon:Lunch at Rainbow Drive-in.I wasn’t sure about the “Drive-in” part, but all the sites raved about this pce.Evening:First Friday Art Walk: A guided tour alleries and live musi atown every first Friday of the month.?━━━━???━━━━?

  Day 7: Saturday

  M:Honolulu Zoo.This we ainly for Rue. In Beijing, we discovered he loved the zoo.Evening:Di the Poké Bar.?━━━━???━━━━?

  We spent the rest of the afternoon rexing at the hotel pool. That evening, I checked the Archive and sadate from the Traveler Sonak.

  Tr. SS

  Greetings John Rue,

  I boarded the ship in Southampton, and acc to the published schedule, I should arrive in New York in the m in ten days. I will update you on my progress when I am in New York.

  Tr. JR

  Hello Sonak Susil,

  We are also on our way to the Uates and will arrive there in about eleven to thirteen days. I believe we will meet in Las Vegas in about two and a half to three weeks.

  During the hike to Diamohe day, I had a great time and took plenty of pictures. The sun was already high, but a cool breeze kept the heat from being unbearable. The trail wound upward, a mix of rocky steps and packed dirt, with wildflowers scattered along the edges. Every so often, a gap irees gave us a glimpse of Honolulu below, the o stretg like a never-ending blue carpet. The air was salty and fresh, mixing with the earthy st of the trail. I could hear the distant crash of waves far below, along with the occasional chatter of other hikers passing by. When we reached the top, the panoramic vieorth every step. The city spread out beh us, tiny pared to the massive sweep of the Pacific. It was breathtaking.

  The afternoon at the beach was fun, but the beach acked with tourists, so Mahya and I gave up on swimming and lounged uhe umbrel instead. The sound of waves crashing mixed with the stant chatter around us, but it didn’t bother me much. We both had books in hand, soaking up the salty air and the sun’s warmth without the crowds’ hassle. Occasionally, a breeze would send a sprinkle of sand our way, but other than that, it was the perfect zy afternoon.

  Alfonse off to his surfing lesson and, of course, showed off some ihleticism. Withiy minutes, he was riding waves better than the instructor. It was almost annoying how quickly he picked it up. The two of them disappeared shortly after, leaving Mahya and me shrugging at each other. We headed to dinner without him, figuring he’d resurface eventually, probably with some wild story.

  He strolled in the following day, grinning like he’d just scored big at the o. There was a lightness about him—his shoulders were loose, and a casual, easygoing vibe repced his stiff, formal tone. I didn’t o guess what—or who—had put him in such a good mood. It definitely wasn’t the surfing. Still, I wasn’t about to pry. Sometimes it’s better to let him enjoy his moment without me poking fun. Besides, I’d rather not jinx the rare sight of a rexed Alfonsen.

  The visit to the royal pace was enjoyable but a bit of a letdown. I went in expeg something with an authentic Hawaiian vibe—maybe some traditional design, bright colors, or at least something that screamed “isnd royalty.” Instead, it felt like we had stepped into one of those old castles from France, all dark wood, ornate furniture, and European-style architecture. The air inside gave a heavy feeling as if no one had aired it out in years, and it had a faint smell of polished wood and old fabric. It was impressive, sure, but not what I had imagined. No tropical fir, no hint of the isnds outside, just more of the same old royal grandeur we’d seen before, minus the personality.

  They didn’t know what hit them when we rolled into A Moaer. We hit those stores like a hurrie, grabbing everything from designer clothes to random souvenirs. By the time we were done, I’m pretty sure they were ready to put up a statue in our honor. We must’ve dropped over fifty thousand dolrs betweehree of us. With bags in hand and credit cards smoking, we walked out like champions of retail therapy.

  After this visit, Mahya ented, “Shopping therapy is Earth’s greatest iion,” her voice was full of satisfa as she admired the bags in her hands.

  It was too te to go to the goon, so we had dinner in the shoppier, and Alfonsen disappeared again without a word.

  “Maybe tomorrow he’ll also sound normal,” I said, raising an eyebrow as I g Mahya.

  “Here’s hoping,” she replied with a slight chuckle, shaking her head.

  The snorkeling at Hanauma Bay was a bst, with the fish in Hawaii looking as vibrant as you’d expect—bright colors darting in and out of the coral, like something out of a postcard. her of us gained a point, but we didn’t care. The water was warm, and being surrounded by that uer world was enough. It felt like we were in a pletely different realm, with the sunlight filtering through the water in shimmering beams. The experience alone made it worth it, point or no point.

  In true Rue fashion, Rue tried to join the hu dancers at the Luau, drawing amused ughter from the crowd. No one expected his graceful paws to imitate their footwork, and everybody quickly poiheir phones in his dire. The garnds around his nely added to the ridiculousness, but it was impossible not to smile. He looked so cute with the garnds as he danced with the hu dancers. I wao take pictures, but he wore a gmor to resemble a Tibetan mastiff. Finally, I couldn’t help myself and did it, anyway.

  Mahya and I ehe museum. We didn’t discover any fotten runes, but the dispys were iing, so we didn’t care. Or, more precisely, I didn’t care. Mahya still grumbled quietly about old stuff. Rue stayed at the hotel to py with the kids oer slides.

  Alfonsen vanished without a word after the Luau. An hour before the Sm Poetry Workshop, he strolled bato the hotel, smiling and looking rexed. He offered no expnation. Mahya raised an eyebrow at me, and we exged a knowing look, but her of us pressed him for details. I ehe Sm Poetry Workshop and wrote two poems about our cruise.

  Joy of the Sea

  From Shanghai’s bustling quay, we embark on the northern sway,Where the pass needle twirls, our sails unfurl to py.Past the isles of Japan, where cherry blossoms y,A whispering sea breeze carries us on the Pacific’s grand ballet.

  Chorus:

  Oh, the joy of the sea, as we sail the world so free,From Shanghai’s port, we depart, to the vast and open sea.Japan whispers soft farewells as we sail with glee,Marshall Isnds’ beauty tells of nature’s tapestry.Hawaii’s hu sways. In our hearts, it will be,As we sail away, with the waves in perfect harmony.California’s Golden Shore, our final jubilee,Each stop’s a treasure more in this sailing odyssey.

  The aisles of Japan fade, a memory profound,As we chase the horizon’s line, where sky and water pound.Through the Marshall’s tranquil realm, our memories are ed,With tales of o’s past, where nature’s bounty is abound.

  To the Marshall’s scattered s, jewels of the o’s fray,We glide through atolls and goons, in the suernal ray.Hawaii’s aloha spirit, in the waves’ majestic spray,Bids us farewell as we pass in the night’s serene dispy.

  Hawaii’s shores be, with their hu dance renowned,We linger in their warmth, in the aloha we found.But the journey calls us forth, to where the dreams are homeward bound,To California’s golden gate, where our spirits will be unbound.

  With eaot and starry guide, our vessel charts the way,Through the vast and open blue, where dreams and dolphins stray.Until at st, California’s shores rise up to meet the day,Our northern passage plete, in the golden state’s embrace we stay.

  With each is behind, our hearts with joy are wound,For every wave we ride, brings us closer to the mound.Of California’s weling arms, where our spirits will be unbound,As we plete our northern trek, with our sea-faring love profound.

  Whispers of the Pacific

  In the vast blue expanse where the sky meets the sea,Lies a trail of isnds, a and free.From the shores of Nippon to the atolls so grand,A seafarer’s passage through time’s shifting sand.

  Chorus:

  Oh, sihe song of the o’s embrace,Where the zephyrs py and the dolphins ra the heart of the sea, where the world finds its pace,We sail through the whispers of the Pacific’s gra the dance of the waves, in the sun’s warm kiss,We find the joy of the mariner’s bliss.With the stars as uide, over waters we’ll trace,The endless journey in the Pacific’s vast space.

  Marianas’ guardians of the deep o floor,Caroline’s jewels, Miesia’s lore.Isles of beauty, where spirits still dance,Echoes of history, in each wave’s advance.

  Voyagers of old with sails unfurled,Navigating the mysteries of an uncharted wuided by stars and the o’s soft call,Finding their way, a lesson for all.

  Here, the wind carries tales of the brave,Of mariners resting in a watery grave.Yet, the isnds be with promise and light,A haven for souls iill of the night.

  So let us set sail from Yakushima’s green nd,To the Marshall’s goons, where palm trees stand.For in this great o, where dreams iwine,Lies the heart of adventure, a treasure divine.

  On our way back to the hotel, Alfonsen pined, “It is not fair that I did not get a point.” His voice was filled with frustration as he crossed his arms.

  “Maybe poetry needs more than one workshop,” I suggested, gng at him with a smirk.

  “But you did get a point,” he shot baarrowing his eyes.

  “Yes, but I also wrote poems. You didn’t,” I replied, shrugging casually, trying to hide my amusement.

  He looked thoughtful, took out a pen and a paper, and scribbled on the page all the way back to the hotel. At one point, he huffed, growled, crumpled up the page, threw it away, and informed me, “See you tomorrow m,” and disappeared.

  Oh well …

  The Hu Workshop was fun, and we all earned points. It never hurts to earn more points. We chose not to go on the dinner cruise and spent a fun afternoon at the beach. It was still too full of tourists and too noisy, but it was also he location helped me rex, even with all the hubbub around.

  The hike to Manoa Falls was absolutely worth it, and yeah, I went a little crazy with the camera again. The trail was lush and green, with the air thick from the humidity, carrying the st of wet earth and tropical pnts. Every turn had something worth snapping—vines hanging down, birds eg through the trees, and the occasional glimpse of sunlight breaking through the opy. When we reached the falls, the mist from the crashing water felt like a reward after the climb.

  I sighed audibly, the sound heavy with frustration, and Mahya g me, raising an eyebrow. “What’s the matter?” she asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and .

  “We found this p the i. Magical worlds don’t have i. How are we supposed to find all the cool stuff to see?” I replied, gesturing toward the falls to enpass the sery.

  “World information?” she suggested, tilting her head thoughtfully.

  I shot her a sideways gnce. “I thought you don’t like world information. That it’s a spoiler.”

  “I don’t,” she said, shrugging with a small smile, “but you use it if you want.”

  Her ued cession made me chuckle. That cheered me up.

  Mahya and I ehe art walk and bought two pieces each. Alfonsen disappeared before the walk.

  Rue didn’t have fun at the zoo and tried ving us to let the animals go. It was new; in Beijing, he didn’t care. He kept shouting in our minds, “Free animals! Freedom!” It was stressing him so severely that we left after a couple of hours ao the beach.

  Alfonsen’s surf guide joined us for di the Poké Bar. He was a huge Kānaka Maoli man named Keoni who opped smiling, even for a moment. Keoni told us stories about the isnds and the tourists ing to Honolulu a us ughing most of the evening.

  He also called Alfonsen, Al. Every time Keoni called him ‘Al,’ Alfonsen’s jaw tightened slightly, his lips thinning as if he bit back a protest. Yet, he stayed quiet, either out of politeness nation, I couldn’t tell. Mahya and I exged a look with an evil smile. Al didn’t know it yet, but his name had forever ged.

  Towards the end of dinner, Keoni asked me, “I hear you’re Ameri. But where are Al and Maya from? I ’t pce the at, and whenever I ask Al, he avoids the question.”

  Alfoiffened beside me, his telepathic voice sharp, “Please don’t say anything.” The unspoken fear in his words mirrored the tension in his shoulders.

  “Rex, I’m not an idiot. I’m a Traveler, too,” I reassured him silently, trying to calm his nerves.

  I ughed aloud and said, “He’s not avoiding the question; he just doesn’t know how to answer you.” I waved my hand dismissively, then leaned in with a grin. “You see, the three of us are children of diplomats. You think I’m Ameri, but my passport says I’m German. My father osted in Washington when I was young, and the at stuck. I also lived in Spain, Israel, and, i years, a.” I paused, notig Keoni’s intrigued expression before tinuing, “Mahya is English but grew up in India, France, and Russia and has been in a for the st three years. Alfonsen is Austrian—or at least that’s what his passport says—but he was born i and grew up i, Costa Rica, Romania, and a for the st five years. So when someone asks me where I’m from, I say I’m from Earth. Mahya says she’s from everywhere, and Alfonsen never knows what to say, so he doesn’t say anything.” I smirked, giving Alfonsen a pyful nudge.

  “Oh, so you all met in a?” Keoni asked, his eyes widening in realization.

  “Yes,” I replied with a nod.

  “He told me about a. I thought he was talking about a trip there; I didn’t know you all lived there,” he said, his brow furrowing as if pieces were clig into pce.

  “Yes,” I firmed. “Our parents are posted in Beijing.”

  Mahya and Alfonsen asked me simultaneously, “How did you think of su answer?” “How the hell did you e up with it?”

  “The first thing you learn in foster care is the art of bullshit,” I answered both of them.

  Keoni spent the night in our suite, and I sent a heartfelt thank you to the ior of earplugs. In the m, we said goodbye a sail o leg of this journey.