by David Hair
‘Try? You mean you don’t actually know?’
He seemed unmoved by her doubt. Of course not. But it is the logical place to start.
What kind of future will I have, at his beck and call? How will I deal with being always afraid of what he knows and what he will do? She carefully masked her fears, while her subconscious began to work on a new problem: how to extricate herself out of her bargain with Asher Grieve.
‘I must proceed,’ she told him.
Then bonne chance! I will see you soon, Daughter-dearest.
‘I am trusting you, Father. Why should I do that?’
Because I have always been on your side.
‘You have never been on any side but your own.’
You are wrong, Daughter. I am proud of you, and I have always been for you. I put you in the forge that was Puarata to temper you, to make you purer and stronger. Everything has been done for you.
‘You old liar! You self-serving lying bastard! You cared nothing of what I went through!’
What do you know of what I cared for? What would you be now if I had not come for you? A wrinkled, forgotten pensioner at the end of a sad and bitter life. Think of all you have now. All the opportunities I gave you.
‘Oh, so it was all “tough love”, was it?’ she sneered. ‘I went through purgatory and I’m still there.’
Daughter, I feel your pain. But just a few steps more, and the task is done. The war will be won, and then you can be the person you have always wanted to be. Weakness is a luxury you cannot afford yet.
She hung her head. ‘I know.’
You may be in purgatory now, Daughter, but when I am free, we will create our own paradise.
She wanted to tell him that she believed no such thing, that life under his thumb could only ever be hell, no better than life under Venn or Bryce or Parukau. But what was the point? She had given her Pledge. A wave of utter despair threatened to engulf her, but she fought it down. ‘Farewell then, Father.’
See you soon, Daughter.
She wondered if he were responsible for the loss of control over Heron. Could he do such a thing, trapped where he was? Her fears told her, yes he could. I must resolve this quickly.
She took the girl Hine and walked her to the pool, where she pulled out her Swiss army knife and cut the girl’s thumb. The girl was so numb to all that was happening that she barely flinched. A tiny drop of the girl’s blood dripped into the water. The water hissed, and then all of a sudden it evaporated. With a rumble, the bottom fell away, revealing a stairway that descended into the darkness. Only the drop of blood remained, hovering in the air, then flowing like a flying snake down the stairs, like red ink on an unseen page.
Omigod, this is really it … Te Iho.
Distantly, she could feel a heartbeat emanating from the earth. Or perhaps her chest. She clutched her left breast, vaguely surprised that she still had a heart at all.
Within minutes she had led Hine, the patupaiarehe and the tipua down into the earth. Although the water was gone, they moved as if underwater. It was an eerie thing, to see their hair swaying like waterweed, and her throat clenched, until she took an experimental breath and survived. After that, breathing became second nature once again.
At the foot of the stairs, normal gravity reasserted. Some sort of maze began. She made a deeper cut in Hine’s arm, and watched the blood flow out into the air in a thin thread, like a guiding arrow through the twists and turns of the maze. Behind her the column of goblins filed in, exclaiming in awe. She wished somehow she could send them away, but was afraid to go without warriors into the maze. Who knew what traps and guardians Puarata might have left here?
She ushered the tipua past, noticing the wall beside the doorway. It held a map of New Zealand, carved in wood relief, a dozen feet high. A needle jutted from the middle of Lake Rotorua — right here on Mokoia Island. She smiled, realizing what this was: the device that determined where this gate emerged in the real world.
Ahhh … now to ensure there is no pursuit. She waited until all of the goblins were inside, barely noticing them. The tipua chief, Kotukutuku, edged closer, staring up at the map. She nodded to him. ‘Do you know what this is, Kotukutuku? This controls where the gate emerges on the real world. Now that everyone is in, I shall shift it. That way no-one can follow us into this place.’
She pulled the needle out, and with a sucking sound, the gate vanished. She chose a new gateway: her own manor here in Rotorua — it would do until she returned these tipua to their village.
‘There! Now no-one can get in: Te Iho is mine!’
A hammer clicked, and a circle of steel pressed into her breast.
‘Surprise, Donna!’ breathed Kotukutuku. ‘It is I, Parukau.’
He reached out, and with a swirl of power pulled the cords that controlled the patupaiarehe from her grasp.
Warrior’s choice
Friday night
Kelly pushed and pushed. Nothing else mattered but to expel the alien from her belly before it came through her stomach. A part of her knew she wasn’t rational right now, but it wasn’t the part that was in control. The alien was ripping her in two; it was too big. She was bleeding everywhere. She was burning up. She clung to hands and fought through the next wave of pain. Foul smells clogged her nose. Faces came and went. Tim … Tu Hollis … Then Wiri was holding her, his mouth moving, and she could feel him willing her through this, so she forgave him the agony and gave just a little more, to bring life to their little boy. Push again, push again.
The stars glittered above, and the lake water murmured. A breeze stirred the trees. It felt utterly primal to be outdoors, the only light coming from the oil lantern they had brought with them from the mission house. To be giving birth beneath the stars. If she was more of an Earth Mother type she would have been in her element, but right now she would have traded it all for an epidural and a hospital bed.
Then came a tearing feeling, and the men all whooped and pounded each other’s backs. Wiri blinked damp eyes, and then came a high, thin noise as her baby began bawling its tiny lungs out. Hollis splashed warm water from the spring over it, and then the tiny, angry, ugly, precious thing was pressed to her chest. She felt an incredible feeling of wholeness and relief as she lay panting in exhaustion.
Wiri beamed down at the little bundle. ‘A boy,’ he confirmed. ‘Our son. Born on Mokoia Island.’ He sounded as if he couldn’t believe it. She was drenched in perspiration, but nothing mattered now except for the child at her breast. She pulled up her tee and helped the little mouth find one of her swollen nipples. After a minute of frustrated failures, he latched on, and greedily slurped. It kind of hurt, but it was good, too. She gave a contented, relieved sigh.
‘I thought it went well,’ Hollis said in a tired but warm voice. ‘An easy birth, very quick. No complications. The other two I did were much worse than that.’
Kelly looked at him in mute horror. ‘But that was unspeakable!’ she gasped.
The cop smiled wryly. ‘Toughen up! Wiri told me he wants enough kids for a rugby team.’
She caught Wiri’s eye, and the warrior shook his head. ‘Never said any such thing, love,’ he grinned.
Kelly smiled tiredly. ‘You’re having the rest of them if you do, kiddo. No way am I going through that again.’
For a few minutes, all was calm. Wiri told her it was only just over an hour since they were brought back across to the real world. She was stunned — it had felt like at least a day. ‘Any news on Mat?’ she whispered to Wiri.
He shook his head, shrugging. ‘Tim went back to scout the clearing half an hour ago. We’ll know more when he gets back.’ He sounded slightly worried that the Englishman was still gone.
‘You want to go after her, don’t you?’
He grimaced. ‘If I had enough men, yes. But it would be suicide. There is only Hollis and I fit to fight. Tim has a broken arm and you’re … well, obviously …’ He scowled. ‘There’s just us, and we’re not enough.’
She nodded in p
ossessive relief that he wouldn’t go off on some errand, no matter what was at stake. Let someone else sort it all out. He was hers, and now he was a father. He was too precious to risk. In her arms, the infant nuzzled her breasts and burped contentedly. She felt a sense of peace and happiness unlike any she had ever felt before.
Then Tim Spriggs hobbled out of the woods, with a familiar face behind him.
‘Mat?’ She stared as Mat Douglas stepped out of the shadowy bush. He was wearing a feather cloak about his shoulders, and looked very solemn. His hands were wrapped in bandages. Wiri seized Mat in a bear hug. Then Mat saw Kelly lying on the ground, clutching a bundle in her arms, and his eyes went round. She grinned up at him, whilst noting that he looked wrecked. Still she felt her heart swell with relief and joy.
‘You look like crap,’ she told the boy. ‘What’ve you done to your hands?’
‘Yeah, I know,’ he said. ‘They look a mess, but they don’t hurt any more … umm … much.’
Riki appeared behind Mat, high-fived Wiri and nodded around the group like this was all his doing. ‘Hey, it’s my crew,’ he drawled. ‘So, my peeps, how’s it goin’?’
‘We are not your crew, brown boy,’ Kelly growled. ‘Where’ve you been? Draft-dodging again?’
‘I was rescuing Mat’s ass — as usual!’ Riki smirked. ‘It’s my super power.’ He bent over Kelly and peered at the baby. ‘It’s a boy? You could name him Riki, I reckon.’
Wiri cocked his head. ‘We’ll consider it,’ he said, in a tone that suggested they wouldn’t. He looked at Mat and Riki properly. ‘Where’d you get the feather cloaks?’
Mat glanced guiltily over his shoulder. The gathering fell silent as a tall Maori woman stepped from the forest shelter, a leather-faced giant with bristling grey hair. Wiri gripped a musket, but Tim Spriggs put a hand up. ‘Wait, Wiri. There is more going on here than you know.’
Mat stepped between Wiri and the Birdwitch, raising his bandaged hands. ‘She’s on our side now,’ he said urgently. Wiri and Kelly looked from him to Kurangaituku, their faces astonished. Tim Spriggs still looked that way, and they had already told him.
Wiri spoke first. ‘Mat, she sat at Puarata’s council. I have seen her there, many times. She served him for centuries. It’s impossible.’
Riki lifted his chin. ‘Nah, she’s okay, man. She wants to help us. She wants to get free, get outta the game. Like in The Godfather, man, when Al Pacino tries to go straight.’ He winced a little, regretting the analogy. ‘Although that didn’t turn out well, I hear you saying. But she’s, like, remembered who she is now, and she wants to earn her way back to the right side. It’s kosher, man. I’d know.’
Wiri looked at him with disbelief. ‘You would know? Riki, the only creatures that have ever trusted her have feathers, and brains the size of peas.’
‘Which describes Mat and Riki perfectly just now,’ Kelly threw in. But something in the witch’s face seemed sincere. ‘Come on, Wiri, she’s clearly helped our boys out.’ She looked past the two young men and fixed her eyes on the Birdwitch. ‘At least let her have her say.’
Kurangaituku looked hunched and uncomfortable. She glared at Wiri and rasped, ‘Who are any of you to judge me?’ Then she hung her head. ‘Proud, too proud …’ She looked down. ‘Little enough reason do I have for pride, after all I have done. I must find humility.’ She stepped behind Riki’s shoulders and gripped them in her long, talon-like hands, making him wince fractionally. ‘I am with this boy. He reminded me of who I once was, when the world was new. A goddess, not some hunched and shrunken thing such as you see. He reminded me of things I have forgotten, like friendship and loyalty and companionship and trust. Laughter and simple conversation. Simple, small things that make life bearable.’ She looked at Wiri again. ‘Hearken, Wiremu the Undying. Kurangaituku seeks redemption. I am filled with remorse, and wish to atone.’
Wiri stared. ‘Donna Kyle told me much the same, but she’s still at war with us.’
Kurangaituku bobbed her head. ‘This I know already. Donna Kyle has entered Te Iho. If she gains the power that is there, we will all be undone. She will become a new Puarata.’ She visibly shuddered. ‘I will not serve her or any other. I wish to pursue — and fight.’
‘So do I,’ Mat put in. Riki nodded agreement. ‘Te Iho is where Ngatoro is being kept. There are others, too. We’ve got to do something!’
Wiri shook his head, standing up. ‘Mat, I would love to — but Donna Kyle claimed to control more than a hundred goblins. I know they’re small, but they’re still a match for any man when they’re in numbers like that. And then there is Donna herself and the patupaiarehe.’ He raised both hands. ‘You know me, Mat: I don’t shirk a fight. But we have three guns, two unhurt men, you and Riki, and Kurangaituku. And with respect, her strength is not in battle. It wouldn’t be a fight, it would be suicide.’
Kelly saw Mat bite his lip. ‘But this could be the only chance—’
‘Mat, there are five of us. It is insane.’
A new voice broke in. ‘What if we could even the odds, brother?’
A Maori man with a tangle of long curls sprouting from beneath a battered top hat stepped from the trees. He wore ragged European settler clothing, with a battered old frock coat and a pistol in his belt, and he was holding a musket. Although she knew and liked him, Kelly’s heart sank.
Wiri’s face lit up. ‘Manu!’ He strode across the lawn and threw his arms about the scruffy Ngati Maungatautari scout. From the bush behind them boiled more and more men of Wiri’s tribe, until a cloud of warriors in piupiu filled the swathe, grinning broadly. They eyed Kurangaituku warily, but they had clearly been listening from the trees for a while before revealing themselves — they offered no objection to her presence. Several bobbed their heads respectfully to Kelly. She recalled many faces from the visit to the village last year, and another more social call five months ago after the wedding. She felt a strange surge of excitement and despair.
‘I’ve brought a war-party from the village, brother,’ Manu smiled broadly. ‘We left the same hour that Tim’s pigeon arrived. How does forty of the whanau sound? All armed to the teeth, and eager to kick some tipua butt.’
Riki whooped loudly. ‘Man, that aces everything! We gotta go now!’
Wiri looked at Kelly.
She could already see what he wanted to do, written plain across his face. ‘You don’t have to do this,’ she told him. ‘You’re a father now. I accept that Kyle needs to be stopped — but can’t you leave it to the others? Please? Just this once?’ She hated the selfishness she heard in her voice, but she couldn’t bear to lose him. ‘You’re a father now,’ she whispered again.
Wiri stroked her hair. ‘You’re just sore that you can’t come on this one,’ he murmured. His mind was already calculating, his muscles already flexing in readiness.
‘No: I’m scared you won’t come back.’
He smiled. ‘It’s me, lover. I always come back.’
‘But you’re not immortal any more! And that patupaiarehe with the sword is still out there! I’ve already almost lost you. I never want to go through that again. We’re parents now!’
He shook his head and straightened. ‘I’m sorry, love, but I have to go. There is no other choice.’
She glowered up at him. There were any number of other choices, she wanted to scream, but his mind was set. He was not the sort that let others accept danger for him. It was part of what she loved in him. But, damn, it makes things like this hard!
‘If you don’t come back, I’ll kill you,’ she growled without a trace of humour. She hugged their infant close, while her eyes drank Wiri in. He was her warrior. Of course he would fight. She had to quell a surge of resentment that she could not go, too; that she had to let him go.
Wiri looked at Mat. ‘What’re we facing, Mat?’ he asked. He signalled silence as Manu and the Ngati Maungatautari gathered. They all knew Mat, but only as a frightened boy who had come through the village a year ago, and wielded
strange powers. Now Mat looked about with level-headed confidence. He stood up tall, and when he began to speak she saw them nod at his growing maturity.
‘Well, it’s like this: Ngatoro-i-rangi and many others are chained up in a place Puarata built. It’s a magical makutu power-plant. But Puarata’s dead now, and this place is the key to succeeding him. If we can get there before Donna — or maybe a close second before she consolidates control — then we can wreck it, rescue Ngatoro and the others, and prevent anyone from using it again. I think that’s worth it. If Donna Kyle or anyone else gets control of it, they will come down hard on all of us, in both worlds. Let’s take it down, and make everything better.’
He stopped for breath and looked around. ‘Maybe this sounds strange to you, but maybe not. I just know that I believe. If we’re going to put an end to these warlocks, this is the place to start.’
For a few moments everyone took in his words, and then the warriors began to nod their heads. Manu grinned. ‘We’re in, ruanuku. Lead us to them.’
Kelly rolled her eyes in a resigned way. Riki dropped down beside her. ‘We’ll be okay, Kels,’ he said, in what he seemed to imagine was a reassuring way.
Wiri pulled off his shirt and hefted his musket. His chest rippled and his tattoos danced in the afternoon light that streamed through the window. The war-party grinned as Tu Hollis did the same.
Mat saw Wiri and Tu look at each other, and slowly nod. He didn’t know the policeman at all, but Tim Spriggs had vouched for him in their conversation on the way here from the Aotearoa gateway. Plus he looked determined and handy in a fight. And he wanted to rescue Hine — that went without saying.
After that, it was all preparations and logistics, priming muskets and readying themselves. They were too many for Mat to take across, but the way between worlds was well known. ‘Don’t you make a widow of me,’ Kelly whispered in Wiri’s ear as they parted. Tim Spriggs was going to take her back to the launch. He had already spoken to the engineer, Gavin, and apprised him of her labour and childbirth. Spriggs wore a wan expression, his shattered arm preventing him from ‘fulfilling my duty as an officer’, as he put it morosely.
