The Kotahi Bay Quartet

by J. C. Hart

  "Don't you think I'm hurt too?"

  "I think I'll leave you guys to it. Catch you later Melody, Jake." Noah gave them a little nod and stepped from the caravan, shutting the door behind him.

  "Was he really just dropping supplies off?" Jake asked. "Or do I not want to know?"

  "I'd like to know something," Melody said. "Like, why you told him what was going on." She smacked him on the arm and he rubbed it, a mock hurt look on his face.

  "I don't know. I guess I was..."

  "Warning him that I'm trouble?" Melody cut in.

  "No, trying to look out for you. He's a good guy, and I trust him, I just wanted him to know that you're hurting."

  "That I'm damaged goods, more like it."

  "Shit, Melody. Why are you making this so hard?" Jake shoved off the couch and paced the small room. "You've been gone for years, and you just show up here and what? Expect that things have smoothed over since you left? It doesn't work like that. You have to put the work in if you want things to get better."

  "Holy shit. Who died and made you the fount of knowledge? Did you get a psychology degree while I was gone, or have you just been watching Dr Phil?" Melody spat the words out, but even as they left her lips she knew she was being a bitch. She knew she'd hurt them, both her mother and Jake, but she hurt too, and no-one seemed to care about that.

  "I'm leaving now," Jake said. "Come talk to me when you're ready to be an adult." He slammed the door behind him and Melody drew her knees into her chest and cried.

  Chapter Ten

  Melody woke in the dead of night, not really sure why. She settled her head back on the pillow, trying to ignore the itch of the blanket. And then she heard it. A rustle outside. A tiny scrape against the wall of the caravan.

  She reached for the hockey stick, fingers pressed hard against the handle. The roughed up fabric on the grip gave her some weird kind of comfort. She got to her knees and carefully parted the slats in the blinds. It was too dark to see anything, but she was sure that someone was there.

  "Crap." She mouthed the word but didn’t dare speak it. She slipped her feet to the cool linoleum floor, pushing herself upright. She tiptoed to the door and stood there, trying to decide whether to open it or not. What was she going to do if she did? And why would anyone be sneaking around outside her caravan, anyway? It wasn't like she'd announced her arrival to the world, though news always did travel fast in Kotahi Bay.

  Her feet started to tingle, and the sensation swept up through her legs, her torso, and then flooded her arms and on into her brain. She knew that feeling. It was the feeling she got when Robbie was around and working what she now knew to be his magic.

  His magic. She snorted. She'd always thought it was amazing how he could blow her mind so easily and make her forget any irritations she'd had with him. And to think that all these years he'd been tapping into her own magic to keep her under control.

  Did this mean he was here? Right outside her door?

  Shit.

  He couldn't be. Not so soon. She'd blown him off a cliff, and he couldn't recover so quickly from that. Could he?

  Melody reached out and placed her hand on the door knob. Her heart pounded frantically in her chest but she couldn't bring herself to open it. Even if it was him, he couldn't know for sure that she was in here. Opening that door would only confirm that she was.

  She snatched her hand back and leaned against the door, sinking to the floor. She crossed her legs and hugged the hockey stick as tears trickled down her face.

  Her life was a mess. She was hiding in a dead man's caravan, using a hockey stick as a weapon, and no one in her family was really very happy with her. The only person who seemed welcoming was Noah, and he could turn out to be far too much of a distraction if she wasn't careful. What the hell was she doing? She wasn't going to survive for very long on the few dollars she'd stolen from Robbie, and it wasn't like she had many skills of her own.

  The tingle faded and Melody was sure she probably imagined it. She was so worried about seeing him again, but he couldn't be there. Not already. It would take him time to heal, and then time to find her. Maybe he wouldn't even find her at all.

  Tomorrow, she was going to start straightening her life out. Beginning with her mother, who, as much as Melody hated to admit it, was right. They had to talk, and sooner was better. Melody had been putting it off for too long already and she couldn't deny the ache in her heart any longer. She wanted her mum, and while she might not get the love and support she craved, she had to at least try to bridge the gap between them.

  Chapter Eleven

  Her head hurt in the morning. Whether from lack of sleep, or the weird angle of her neck against the door, she didn't know. Maybe it was the beer, or the argument with Jake, or some nasty combination of everything. Whatever. She didn't have any painkillers and there was no hot water in the caravan to wash it all away.

  She shucked off yesterday’s clothes and changed into her old black dress. It smelled musty, but there was nothing she could do about that. Melody ran fingers through her hair; she'd even forgot to pack a brush. What a mess. A hot shower would sort a few of her problems out.

  "Come on, Melody. You can do this. Put all that bitchiness in a box, suck it up, and go make nice with the family." Her hand returned to the doorknob, reminding her of her middle of the night wake up, and she shuddered before pushing it open.

  The sun was still low and the cry of a tui rang around the back yard. Probably the same one who'd frequented the kowhai tree back when she used to live here. She'd missed that sound in the city. Sure, it could be annoying, but that background noise was kind of welcome now. It meant she couldn't think too hard, because if she did, she might just grab her bag and keep walking. Let the wind guide her feet.

  Jake had been right though. She needed to stop running. And she needed to make things right with her family. She may never be able to make up for what she'd done, but if she didn't try, she was going to regret it.

  Damn him. What gave him the right to be so wise? Melody's lips twitched into a smile and she crossed over the threshold of the house without knocking. "Good morning," she called. "Anyone up?"

  A grunt came from the kitchen. Her mother. Melody entered and took the seat next to her, reaching for her hand. Her mother let her take it for a few seconds, then drew it away.

  "Mum? I'm really sorry. I'm sorry that I ran away, and I'm sorry that I never called you to let you know I was okay. I can't even imagine what that was like for you. I was selfish, and following my instinct."

  "I know you were." Her mother's lips were drawn in a tight line and she gave a curt nod.

  "The last time we spoke... Before I left..." Melody let out a ragged breath and pinched her nose, trying to stop herself from crying. "You told me that it was my fault Dad died. You said I killed him."

  Her mother lifted her head and looked straight at Melody. She reached out and grabbed Melody's hand, capturing her daughter with both look and touch. There was no trace of malice on her face, but some ineffable emotion. "You did kill him," she said quietly. "I know it was you." She paused and then added, "He wasn't your father."

  "What? That doesn't..." Confusion clouded Melody's vision for a moment, and it was her turn to snatch her hand away. "What do you mean, he wasn't my father?"

  "Oh, he was the man who raised you, but you weren't his biological child." Her mother looked much frailer in that moment, but Melody wasn't sure what to do. "Didn't you ever wonder why he was so hard on you? He never said anything, but he knew..."

  "Knew what? This doesn't make any sense. Mum..." Melody sucked in a breath, and pushed her palms into her eyes. Her mother reached out and placed a hand on Melody's shoulder.

  "I'm sorry. I should have told you... Should have done something. I was so torn. Phillip tried to love you, he did, but he always knew he wasn't your real dad. He hated that I'd cheated on him and he took it out on you. And I let him. I thought it was my penance. And then when he died... When he couldn'
t breathe... I realized what you'd done."

  Melody looked up at her mother, willing her not to say the words. She'd killed him. That was the truth, but she hadn't meant to and she had no idea how. How could a kiss kill someone? It wasn't possible.

  "I didn't mean to do it. I swear. It was an accident."

  "I know." Her mother leaned over and gave Melody a kiss on the forehead. "I'm sorry too. I was so mad at you, and him, and I couldn't deal with it. And then you left, so it was easier to just forget that he was to blame, and put it all on you."

  Melody shoved her tongue against her jagged teeth and swallowed. "So who was my father? Does Jake know?"

  "No, why would I tell him? It doesn't change the fact that he's your brother."

  "And my real dad?"

  Her mother gave a funny little laugh that sounded like it was crossed with a wail of despair. "Do we have to talk about that?"

  "Yes. I need to know." She felt like she was going to puke if she didn't find out soon. "I get now why Phillip would hurt me, but who was this man?"

  "He wasn't a man, not exactly," her mother said cryptically. "Your father is Tāwhirimātea."

  "Tawhiri... what, like, the Maori god of weather?"

  "Yes. I know it sounds out there, but this place, it’s where they are safe and he—"

  It was Melody's turn to laugh. "Of all the bullshit stories you could have told..."

  "Mind your language," her mother said sharply, like a real mother. Like she cared. "And it's not a lie. Think about it Melody. You sucked all the air from Phillip's lungs. When he kissed you—" Her mother squeezed her eyes shut, as though she were trying to eradicate that image from her mind. "You should have been screaming but you weren't, you were drawing the breath from him. You have some of your father's magic, and I guess it was only a matter of time before Phillip paid for his actions."

  "Did you tell him this story too? About my real father?"

  "God, no. He would never have believed it."

  "And yet you expect me to. You know, I thought we were making some progress here, but apparently, we're not. I'm going to get some coffee." Melody pushed up from her chair and marched out the door. She could feel the wind swirl around her shoulders, twisting her hair and snapping at her cheeks, yet she still wasn't prepared to believe her mother.

  "Tāwhirimātea," Melody muttered under her breath. "Bloody ridiculous." She shook her head and kicked at the grass along the curb as she walked. "Daughter of a God. Whatever." She laughed then, unable to contain the hilarity of her mother's statement.

  Her mother...who was not chasing after her, trying to get her point across, trying to convince her...

  Melody stopped in her tracks. Her mother always had to have the last say, and if she wasn't behind her now, throwing words at her, then maybe, just maybe, she wasn't lying.

  But she had to be. Lying, or delusional.

  Or telling the truth?

  Melody shook her head again, unable to even contemplate that. And yet, she had always had a thing with the wind. And she had killed Phillip. She knew that without a doubt. And her mother knew it. Knew she was a killer. Probably knew that was why she had run. Melody's lips twitched, as if she might smile, but she wasn't sure that was the right expression.

  "Alright then," she said, her voice low as she glanced over her shoulder. No one else was around. It was as safe as it got. "This shouldn't be too hard to prove, or not." Melody shook her shoulders out to loosen them and planted her feet. She had half a mind to invoke some bizarre chant, but that had never been necessary in the past.

  There was already a mild breeze in the air, but Melody pushed her thoughts back to when she had finally stood her ground with Robbie. The branches nearby swished wildly in response to the surge of energy she felt inside. She cleared her mind and they stilled, the wind dropping away to virtually nothing.

  "Huh," she said. "Well, if she's right, at least I'm not crazy." And that was a relief. All those years when she had thought she was imagining the wind’s response to her emotions, it had been a reality. Not some pathetic story she'd invented to make herself feel better. Poor little Melody.

  Melody played back the conversation with her mother, then stopped in her tracks. "Pay for his actions," she muttered. "She did know what he was doing, she knew why, and she never said anything." Her rage bubbled up and the wind rose again, pushing her hair around her face and almost making her stumble. She turned and ran back to the house with the wind at her back.

  "You could have told me," she said, slamming the kitchen door shut behind her. Her mother looked up from the table with tears in her eyes. "You should have told me. Told me he wasn't my real father, at the very least. How do you think it felt, for all those years? Believing that my father could hurt me like that? And then when he kissed me..." Melody slumped down into a chair and let her head drop to the table.

  "I'm sorry," her mother whispered. She reached a hand out and placed it lightly against Melody's back. Melody tried her hardest not to flinch, but she had to shrug it off. She didn't want her mother touching her. Not right now.

  "I can hear that you're sorry, I'm just...I can't forgive you, not yet. I can't believe you kept this from me." She was crying. Crying. Dammit, she was angry. She didn't want this sadness to drown out the rage.

  "You're not the only one I kept things from, Melody." Her mother's voice was cautious, and Melody raised her head, needing to see what it was about. Her mother looked at her pointedly. "Things about Philip, and his death." Her eyebrows quirked up and Melody's mouth fell open. Her mother wasn't threatening her, no, but she was telling her pretty clearly. She could have told the cops that it was Melody who killed him, but she didn't. She hadn't been protecting Phillip, she'd been protecting her daughter.

  "I didn't even think about that. I mean. I didn't even know for sure that it was me."

  "I'm sorry for blaming you, for getting angry at you. I was just so scared, so angry, and full of guilt. I didn't mean to drive you off, but I couldn't believe what had happened." Her mother chewed on her bottom lip. "It was my fault for not telling you before. If you'd known..."

  "It's way too late to play the blame game, Mum." Her anger dissipated as she saw fresh tears in her mother's eyes. "It's done. We just have to find a way to move forward."

  "I really am sorry," her mother said again.

  "I know!" Melody sighed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to yell. I'm just... I'm fucked up, Mum. I've gotta go."

  "No, don't go. We need to talk."

  "There's plenty of time for talk later." Melody pushed away from the table and left the house again. Not so much at a run this time, though she was definitely escaping.

  Chapter Twelve

  Her feet took her deep into the woods and across the river until she came out in a sun-dappled meadow. It had been years since she'd last been to Rover's Bend. She might not have had many friends, but she'd enjoyed time spent wandering through the bush and discovering as much as she could of the land around their town.

  She flopped on the ground, batting away the long grass that tickled her nose, and looked up at the sky. Grey clouds scuttled across the sun and she shivered as the last direct light was snuffed out. She'd spent hours finding shapes in the clouds as a kid. Who would have thought that somewhere up there a god who controlled all of that was her father.

  Had he been watching her all these years? Did he give a shit about her? The answer was obviously not, because if he did, he could easily have stepped in. No, if anything it was evidence that gods had more important things to worry about.

  Melody stroked the grass with her hands and found a small stick. She held it in front of her face and wondered whether she could gain any control over her skills. She tossed the branch into the air and focused all her energy on it. A wind whipped it away from her and she heard it smack into a tree. Her laughter pealed through the meadow. Oh, this could be fun.

  She found another and repeated the action, but this time tried to bring a second wind into play. She m
anaged to fly the stick one way and then another before a tingle began in her toes and spread up her body. She tensed and the stick fell to the ground.

  Someone was watching her. She could feel it. She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry, then nudged her jagged teeth with her tongue, frantically trying to keep from panicking. "It's okay, Melody," she whispered to herself. "You're imagining things, that's all."

  Carefully, she rolled onto her stomach and pressed her hands against the ground. There was a thrum there, though she didn't know how that could be. Tāwhirimātea was a sky god, not an earth one, so whatever she felt, it wasn't coming from her magic. But it was definitely there. Melody did a quick mental check but realized she had nothing to protect herself with. Dammit, how could she be so stupid? Robbie was coming for her. Maybe it was even him out there, and here she was, weapon-less, and no-one even knew where she was.

  "Melody?"

  Noah. Of course it was Noah.

  "Yeah. What are you doing here?" She got onto her knees and gave him a little wave. A smile crept over his face.

  "You've got grass in your hair. Were you trying to hide or something?"

  Melody shrugged. "I was just thinking."

  "I'd ask if you come here often, but I followed you and you kind of looked like a lost puppy."

  "You followed me?" She stood, her hands curling into fists which she pressed against her thighs.

  "Yeah, I was near your house when you left. I tried calling, but you didn't hear me."

  "Well, maybe you should have tried calling louder." She raised her eyebrows at him and pursed her lips, not ready to forgive his intrusion.

  "I didn't mean to scare you."

  "You didn't." Melody shrugged the comment off. "Anyway, what do you want?"

  "I just wanted to see how you're doing." He had moved closer and was now only a metre away. She could smell him even over the scent of the woods and meadow.