Free Daughter of Destiny by Lindsay McKenna

female, she looked around at the departing bus engorged with tourists wanting their first look at Uluru, the heart of the world for Aboriginal people in the Northern Territory of Australia.
    As they’d flown in, Kai, who had the window seat, had caught her first glimpse of the magical Uluru. The rust-colored monolith looked exactly as she’d seen it in her dreams. It rose out of the flat desert terrain, a geological jewel—regal, solitary, awe-inspiring. No wonder the Aboriginal people called Uluru the “heart” of the world. She was big, red, smooth and magnificent.
    Ayers Rock rose forty-one-hundred feet above the basin. Thirty-six miles west was a set of stone formations that looked like giant red marbles that had been dropped carelessly onto the desert floor by some unknown giant. Kai acknowledged she had a vivid imagination, but that’s what those round red rocks looked like to her as she saw them in the distance. From Jake’s travel guide, Kai learned that they were called Kata Tjuta, or “many heads” by the Aboriginal in the Pitjantjatjara language.
    Kai had been struck by the feminine, smooth and softly rounded curves of Uluru, and pointed them out to Jake. He’d said that Kata Tjuta reminded him of male energy. The fact that they were the only geological monoliths for hundreds of miles made them hugely significant, Kai was sure. Male and female. Even the rock structures below her conspired to remind her of the necessary union of male and female—on this mission and in life. She understood that the natural world reflected the two-legged’s world. Andthough she didn’t want to acknowledge that male-female duality, she was in awe of the dramatic and powerful Uluru, which called to her, tugging strongly at her heart.
    The wind slapped at Kai, bringing her back to the present. She winced in the heated breeze, which felt like a blow dryer on high being aimed at her. There was very little humidity out here, probably less than ten percent, judging from the dryness in her mouth. Rows of silver-leafed eucalyptus trees surrounded the parking lot, providing patches of badly needed shade. Still, the black asphalt wavered in the heat.
    The odd-looking desert oaks that stood here and there beyond the airport drew Kai’s interest, for she’d been reading about Outback vegetation on the plane. Instead of leaves, they had long, dark green needles that hung in clusters and moved gracefully in the breeze. They looked a lot more like pine trees than the oaks she knew in North Carolina. But pines couldn’t live in this scorching desert, where summertime temperatures reached one hundred thirty degrees. Yet there were plenty of these trees dotting the gently rolling dunes surrounding the airport. Amazing.
    The sky was pale blue and seemed to stretch endlessly, with not a single cloud. Lionel Smythe had warned them that they were going to the Red Center at the hottest time of year. He’d suggested Kai bring along a long-sleeved, white cotton shirt so she wouldn’t get badly burned by the scorching rays of the southern sun. Kai had scoffed, but now realized he had been right.
    Jake drove up in a white Toyota Corolla sedan and parked at the curb. She picked up their navy-blue and green canvas bags and put them in the trunk when he opened it.
    â€œI hope that sucker is air-conditioned.”
    He grinned and closed the trunk. “Oh, yeah. I got it on high. Hop in. We’re staying at the Yarrageh Hotel, run by Aboriginals.”
    â€œSpirit of the Stream Hotel,” Kai confirmed, opening the passenger door and sliding in. “Helluva name, but out here, it sounds good, doesn’t it? I don’t see water anywhere.” She had a small handbook of Aboriginal words and phrases that she’d also studied on the flight. Kai liked the idea that the Aborigines, who had been subjected to terrible prejudice by white Australians, were finally bouncing back, and