Coiled Snake (The Windstorm Series Book 2) (7 page)

“Is this the same dag who told you all that rubbish about us?” Paika asks.

“Yes.”

He puffs up his cheeks and exhales slowly. “Well, he taught you well. I’ll give him that much. Those Yakone are fighters.”

“Yes,” I say again. But the rest of the way home, all I can think about is how much Rye hated being a warrior.

It’s mid-afternoon when we get back to Okarito, just enough time to do the chores Miri has consistently assigned us since Paika arrived.

When the sun sets, Miri returns home with some trout. “Decided to go inland today,” she says. She turns toward me and then asks sharply, “What have you two been doing?” She’s looking at my neck, and I suddenly realize I forgot to put the staying stone back on.

“Went to a
marae
,” Paika answers pleasantly.

Miri raises an eyebrow. “Bruce Bay?” she asks.

He nods.

“You put petrol in my tank?”

“Not yet,” he says evasively. “Didn’t pass a station. But I will, love. No worries.”

“Hm. Yes, well, you and I are going to have a few words about that later, Paika. So what did you think?” Miri asks, turning to me.

I shrug. “It was cool.”

Paika coughs.

“There was singing,” I say quickly.

“The
karanga
,” Miri nods
.
“Only a woman can sing that.”

“Why?”

“Women are the preservers of culture. Of life.
Kaikaranga
share our histories, honor our ancestors.”

Her words bring back the dark statues at the meetinghouse, the unwanted emotions. “Why is everything here about family?” I exclaim. “Don’t you people ever talk about anything else?” I push my chair back from the table and hurry out of the kitchen, slamming the door to my bedroom behind me.

A few minutes later, there’s a knock.

“Go away,” I say.

But Miri opens the door anyway. “Is there something you want to say to me?” she asks.

“Sorry,” I mumble.

“No, not that. About family. What’s bothering you?”

“How can you ask that?” I say, leaning toward her. “How can you pretend everything’s normal? You might be my grandmother, but I hardly even know you. My whole life I thought I didn’t have a family—no aunts or uncles, no cousins, no grandparents—not even parents, just the twins, and now I’m supposed to accept that you people are my family? You who tried to kill me, who killed my friends, who hate my dad! I’m sorry, but I can’t do it.”

Miri looks at me thoughtfully. “How did you end up with the Yakone?” she asks.

“What?”

“You told me you ran away from home. Why?”

My fingers play with the edge of the blanket. Part of me doesn’t want to tell her anything, doesn’t even want to look at her, but it’s the first time someone has asked to hear my story, really asked. And I don’t have to lie or pretend to be another person. I can just be me.

“I ran away because Tom died,” I mutter, “and I didn’t want Sue to throw us out. I thought I could earn money in Winnipeg and send it back.”

“Who are Tom and Sue?”

“My foster parents. They took us in after Mom and Dad died.”

“And you were living in Canada?”

“No. Minnesota. I crossed the border so it would be harder to find me. And Winnipeg was close.”

“I see. And then what happened?”

I take a deep breath, and then it all comes out—working for Joe, selling the I.D.s to Aura, witnessing her murder, taking her place, making the trip to the camp, everything up to the fortress. The only thing I don’t tell her is that I removed the explosives planted by the Rangi.

“And do you love this Rye?” Miri asks when I’m done.

“What?”

She shrugs. “You saved his life. Do you love him?”

“I don’t know,” I stammer. “He thinks I’m his enemy.”

She pulls her flask out of her pocket and takes a long draught. Then she looks at me. “Listen to me carefully,” she says. “You must never tell anyone here that you have feelings for a Yakone. You’re already in a tricky situation, and that won’t inspire confidence. They’ll doubt your loyalty. In fact, you should stop talking about the Yakone altogether.”

“But—”

“This is very important, do you understand? Your life is on the line. You may not be ready to accept me as your grandmother, but you must prove that you are loyal to the tribe or they will kill you. Don’t ever doubt that.”

“I already knew that,” I say angrily. This isn’t exactly the sympathy I was expecting.
You were the one who asked me to tell my story!

“What I haven’t told you yet is that you’ll be required to speak for yourself at the meeting. You’ll have to convince them you’re not a traitor.”

“Speak for myself?”

“You’ll only have a minute, so you’ll have to make it count.”

“But what will I say?
How
will I convince them?”

“That’s what I’ve been telling you, girl! You have to stop thinking the Yakone are your friends. You have to accept the Rangi as your family, really believe it. That’s why I haven’t talked to you about this before now.”

I shake my head, overwhelmed by this information.

She sighs. “I know this must be hard for you. It’s hard for me too, to have a granddaughter who hates her people and loves those who have hurt her the most.”

“Now, hang on—”

“But I don’t want you to think you’re the only one who’s been hurt,” she says, her voice rising. “You lost your parents, but I lost my daughter, and later my husband and son in battle. All of them gone. You tell me who’s suffered more.”

I glare at her. She takes another drink then turns toward the door.

“You know,” she says, pausing with her hand on the knob, “I never even knew about the twins.” Then she leaves.

I glower at the door, twisting the blankets into a furious knot. How dare she give me a lecture! I didn’t deserve that. She asked to hear the truth. Fuming, I shove my face into the pillow and knot the blankets even more.

I can’t believe she’s waited this long to tell me about the speech. Only sixty seconds?
What can I possibly say to convince them?
And how soon will I need to?

I lie awake all night, unable to sleep. When the sky turns a pale gray, I quietly get out of bed and steal out of the house. As soon as I reach the path, I start to run. I sprint as fast as I can and quickly leave the dunes, pass the cliffs, hit the smooth stretch of sand. I run even faster, trying to knock it all out of my head.

Everything is so confusing. One second, Miri’s all right; the next, she’s a witch. Paika—he’s spent all this time helping me, been my friend, a protector, but he’s the one who brought me here in the first place. And Rye? I don’t know what to think about him. Was he lying to me, or are they?

I pump my arms faster, swing my legs.
In. Out. In. Out.
To my annoyance, the words from one of the songs Paika taught me pops into my head.
Tātu e tātu e.

Get out!
I yell at the words.
I don’t want you!

Suddenly, my left foot drops down, and I fall forward as my ankle twists beneath me.

“Ouch!” I yell. I look back at my foot. The sand must have given way beneath it; everything below my ankle is submerged in water. I try to lift my leg out and sharply draw in my breath.

“Great,” I mutter.

Moving slowly, I slide my foot out of the hole and gently rub the swollen joint. It’s going to take me a long time to walk back to the house. I look around for a stick to use as a crutch, but the beach is bare.

Gritting my teeth, I push myself onto my feet. Moving carefully, I put a tiny bit of weight onto my left foot and hop forward with the right.

After twenty minutes of my agonizingly slow pace, I stop for a break, leaning against one of the large rocks poking out of the sand.

“Hello there!” someone calls from ahead of me. “Are you hurt?”

I look up. A small man wearing slacks and a cardigan is hurrying down the beach toward me. His black hair is parted down the middle, and he has a thin, well-trimmed mustache.

“I sprained my ankle,” I say.

“
Lǎo tiān
! Here, let me help you.”

“Thanks,” I say as he approaches, dubiously eyeing his skinny frame.

“Don’t worry,” he says, smiling. “I’m stronger than I look.”

As I wrap my left arm around his shoulders, I notice a small jade dragon pinned to the inside of his collar, but then he’s propping me up and we’re hobbling forward.

“Where do you live?” he asks, a thick accent marring his otherwise perfect English.

“Closest house to the beach,” I tell him.

“Miri’s?”

“You know her?”

“I do, very well. So that would make you Kitara.”

I stop walking. “How do you know that?” I ask.

“You’re the person I’ve come here to see.”

“What—why?”

“I’ve come to take you to the meeting.”

“You’re a Rangi?”

“Surprised?” He laughs pleasantly. “Most people are. I’m an adopted member. I was born in China and used to belong to the Cua. The name’s Jian.”

“I don’t understand. Why would you join the Rangi, of all people?”

“I didn’t like what my tribe was doing and wanted to support a better cause.”

“You think the Rangi are in the right?”

“Of course. They’re defending their homeland. What’s more right than that? I will admit they have their prejudices,” he sighs, running his hands through his hair. “It’s been difficult to fit in, but the
Riki
has been very kind to me.”

“Have you come by yourself?” I ask.

“I have a companion. He’s at the house. We didn’t know where you were, so I decided to walk down the beach in search of you.”

“I see.”

Jian looks at my face. “I’m sure the meeting will go well,” he says quickly. “The
Riki
is a reasonable man, and you have friends who will support you.” He smiles reassuringly.

“I don’t know about that,” I mutter, thinking about my conversation with Miri.

When we get closer to the house, I see Miri and Paika standing on the beach. They’re talking to a third person: a young man. He’s tall, taller than Paika, and his black hair is cut just above his collar. He’s wearing a tank top that shows off a tattoo on his right arm and on his muscular chest, but there’s not one on his face. A gun is strapped to his right leg, a
patu
to his left, and hanging from his neck is a tiki
figure made of greenstone. As I approach, he turns and stares at me. His eyes narrow, and the color drains from his lips as he presses them together. I wonder if he’s one of the “young ones” Paika warned me about.

“There you are,” Paika says. “Where have you been?”

“Morning run,” I say.

“So early?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“I see you’ve met Jian,” Paika says, nodding at him curtly. Jian’s face constricts for a moment, but he quickly masks it with a smile.

“This is Mokai,” Paika says, gesturing to the young man. “You’ve probably figured out that they’re here to escort us to the meeting.”

“When are we leaving?” I ask flatly.

“Soon,” Miri says. “After brekkie. They brought a car. If you have anything you want to take with you, you should get it now.”

“I don’t have anything,” I say.

“Well, let’s go inside and eat,” Paika says.

Miri leads the way; Paika and Mokai follow close behind. I walk slowly at the rear, leaving plenty of space between us, although Jian stays by my side.

“See?” he says. “You’re among friends.”

“I don’t think so.”

“No?” He frowns. Then he tips his head forward. “He’s the reason you’re still alive. I’d say that makes him your friend.”

“Yes,” I sigh, “that’s what they keep telling me. But Paika’s still responsible for—”

“No, not Paika,” Jian interrupts. “I’m talking about Mokai.”

“Mokai? What do you mean?”

“He was at the council meeting as an aide to the
Riki
, and he spoke up for you too. Without an additional voice, Paika’s plea on your behalf would have failed, and you’d already be dead.”

“I don’t understand. Why would Mokai have spoken for me?”

Jian gives me a strange look. “Well, if I had to venture a guess, I’d say it’s because he’s your brother.”

I freeze. “What did you say?”

“He’s your brother.”

“No.” I shake my head. “You’re mistaken. My only brother is in America.”

“You have a brother in America?” Jian asks.

“Yes, and a sister. They’re twins. And neither of them looks anything like Mokai.”

“But you look like Mokai.”

I frown. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“These twin siblings of yours in America—where do they live?”

“Minnesota.”

“These siblings in Minnesota, they are younger than you, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Right, well, Mokai is your older brother.”

“I’m the oldest in my family. I don’t have an older brother.”

Jian rubs his brow and exhales slowly. “Lǎo tiān, I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you this.” He takes a deep breath. “You do have an older brother. Your parents left him here when they ran.”

I stare at him. “What?” I whisper.

“I’m sorry. I thought you would have known.”

“No.” I shake my head, backing away from him. “That can’t be true.”

“I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“No!” I turn around and limp as fast as I can up the path. “Paika!” I yell. I grab his arm just as he’s about to step through the front door and pull him away from the house. “Who is he?” I demand, pointing inside.

“Mokai?” Paika asks. “I told you—”

“No! Don’t feed me any crap. Who is he?”

Paika rubs his nose and looks down at the grass.

“Kava,” I whisper. “It’s true? He’s my brother.”

Paika nods slowly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I hiss. “What is this, some kind of joke? What were you thinking—waiting until he showed up here? All your talk about family, family, family, and you never once bother to mention I have an older brother!”

“Listen, Kit,” Paika says.

“No, you listen! You had no right to hold that information from me!”

“I didn’t know how to tell you, girl! I know it was wrong, but what was I supposed to say? By the way, love, you have a brother? Your parents left him and took you instead. Bloody pueha.”

I glare at him, heat building behind my eyes.

The sound of a twig snapping makes us turn around. Jian, Miri, and Mokai are standing in the yard, watching us.

“So you’re my brother,” I say after a long silence, forcing myself to hold it together.

“I guess that’s what you’d call me,” Mokai replies, just as stiffly.

“I didn’t know you existed.”

“I suppose when people abandon their kids they don’t usually talk about them.”

“Great,” I nod, biting my lip. “This is just great. You people should start a club for everyone who hates my parents.”

“There would be a lot of members,” Mokai says.

“Yeah, and those are the people who get to vote on whether I live or die, right?” No one says anything. “Why are you even taking me to this meeting?” I ask them. “You know what’s going to happen. They’re going to kill me. If that’s what you want, why don’t you just kill me now? Why waste time teaching me crap and lying to me?”

“Why do you think, Kit?” Paika asks.

I step backward, shaking my head. “No, don’t try to play that card again. It won’t work.”

“Come off it,” Mokai says. “We’re all here trying to help you, so the least you can do is make an effort to help yourself.”

“What gives you the right to tell me what to do? You think you can boss me around because you so gallantly stood up for me?”

His face darkens. “I wish I hadn’t.”

“I wish you hadn’t either.”

“Then you’d be dead, stupid.”

“Good. Better than having to talk to you!”

“You’re not wrong there. It would have saved us all a lot of trouble.”

I glare at him, arms trembling.

“Come now,” Jian says. “This is no way to behave. You’ve just discovered a lost member of your family! This should be a joyful occasion.”

“Stay out of this, old man,” Mokai growls.

“No, Jian’s right,” Miri says. “You’re both acting like children. Now get inside so we can eat and leave on time.”

Scowling, I follow everyone into the house. Miri cooks a quick breakfast, using up the rest of Fiona’s eggs, then ties on her yellow scarf and locks everything up while we pile into Jian and Mokai’s large silver sedan. I’m grateful Mokai is riding in the passenger seat. As much as I don’t want to be near Miri, I’d rather be sitting next to her and Paika than him. But as we leave Okarito and pull onto the highway, I can’t help glancing at the back of his head, at the thick, dark hair that looks just like mine.

Could he really be my brother? It’s impossible. How could my parents have left one of their kids? It goes against everything I know about them. Maybe they were Rangi and maybe they did betray their tribe, but they would never abandon one of us.

I try to remember my early childhood, before the twins were born, but I have no recollection of an older brother. Just me and my parents for five years.

My gaze drifts back to Mokai’s head then to the rearview mirror. He’s watching me, and our eyes meet. I jerk mine away.

The rest of the trip I keep my eyes trained on the windows, watching the passing trees and rolling farmland give way to sapphire lakes and steep escarpments. The clouds drift low over the fields and gorges, filtering the sunlight and transforming the landscape into another world.

After several hours—maybe four or five—we reach a small city built on the shores of an enormous lake, and Jian pulls the car into the parking lot of a diner.

As we’re walking in, Miri pulls me aside.

“I wanted to apologize,” she says. “For last night. I was rough on you, and I didn’t mean to be. It’s just hard sometimes … ” She coughs.

“It’s fine,” I say quickly.

She opens her mouth to say something but nods instead. We walk into the restaurant. The men are sitting at a table, looking at a map.

“We should take this road,” Mokai says. “It’s more direct.”

“We’ll have to leave the car if we do that, and you know what Henare said,” Jian replies.

“But if we follow the motorway all the way around, it’ll take another three hours!”

“You know we can’t risk”—Jian lowers his voice—“windwalking.”

“I say we put it to a vote,” Mokai says. “What do you think, Paika?”

“I think the area is remote enough we won’t be seen,” Paika says. He looks at us. “Miri, your thoughts?”

Miri studies the map. “Rent a boat,” she says. “Take the shorter road. Then we’ll go in by water.” She frowns at Jian and Mokai. “I thought you two would have planned all this.”

“We did,” Jian says calmly.

“Jian did,” Mokai corrects.

I study Jian’s face, remembering what he said about having trouble fitting in. “Who’s in charge?” I ask.

“What?” Mokai looks at me.

“You heard me.”

Neither of them says anything. Finally, Jian nods his head.

“If Jian’s in charge then we’ll do what he decides,” I say.

“That’s not your call,” Mokai returns.

“I have a sprained ankle,” I tell him. “So unless you can guarantee the wind is going to be strong the entire time and no one is going to see us, I’m not trying your plan.”

“I like Miri’s suggestion,” Jian says quickly. “It’s a good compromise. We’ll take the shorter road and rent a boat.”

“Hopefully, a powerboat,” Mokai says.

“Show some respect, son,” Miri scolds. “And don’t shame me with your lazy talk.”

“Sorry,” Mokai says sullenly.

I stare at the two of them, feeling my face contort, and struggle to maintain a neutral expression. Jerking my eyes away, I realize Jian is watching me. He smiles sympathetically, and I bury my face in my menu.

The rest of the drive is even more beautiful than the first stretch. The road we take follows the mountainous lake the entire time. The trees and meadows are an effervescent green, the water a deep blue in the peaks’ shadow.

At last, we reach a small town and Jian arranges to leave the car and rent a boat. He rents a powerboat after all, and I wonder if he’s trying to get on Mokai’s good side.

We put the boat in the water, and Miri takes the helm. Mokai and Jian sit up front near her, with the map, and I sit in the back with Paika.

“Tell me what happened,” I say.

Paika grimaces. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Kit. I really am.”

“Just tell me.”

He sighs. “Kai was about four or five when your dad got in trouble and had to leave. You were about one. Kai was playing with a friend when the news came that the warriors were on their way. Your parents went to pick him up, but he wasn’t at the house. The family he was playing with had gone to the park, and your parents didn’t know which one. They searched the closest playgrounds, but they couldn’t find him, and there wasn’t any more time. So they left. If they had stayed, your dad—and maybe your mum—would have been killed.”

“What happened to him?” I say, my voice cracking.

“The tribe raised him. He lived with different families growing up. The Riki took a special interest in him, made him one of his entourage.”

“Why?”

“I guess because he was in love with your mum.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, lots of people were. She was the most beautiful woman on the island. And she was betrothed to him.”

“My mom was betrothed to the Riki?”

“Broke his heart when she married your da instead. He never married anyone else.”

I rub my forehead. “Is that why he hasn’t killed me yet?”

Paika nods. “Part of it. You’re the spitting image of your mum. It’d be hard for him to sentence you to death, I think. Tane knows that.”

“The captain?”

“Aye. The Riki might be merciful because of your mum, but Tane will do anything to avenge himself on your dad. It was from him that your dad stole the hiri.”

“Why doesn’t he want to kill Mokai?”

“Kai has earned his place in the tribe. And your parents left him. He had no involvement in their betrayal.”

“Oh, and I did? I was one!”

Paika raises an eyebrow. “You know that’s not the only reason they suspect you.”

“I guess.” I glance at the bow, where Mokai’s standing, then at Jian. “What’s Jian’s role in the tribe?” I ask.

Paika scowls. “I don’t like that bloke. It’s not right, having someone from another iwi on the Riki’s council.”

I look out across the azure lake, mulling over Paika’s words and thinking about what Jian told me. They have their prejudices, he said. The man seems nice enough to me, but I wonder if I would be upset, like Paika and Mokai, if I had grown up a member of the tribe.

That makes me think of something else. “I was born here, then,” I say.

“That’s right.”

I think about the gorgeous mountain range, the ocean, how right it feels to breathe the salty air. Then I scowl. This isn’t my home. My home is with the twins, in Williams.

“So the whole tribe is gathering just to vote on whether I get to live?” I ask.

“Actually it’s the hapa reps who will vote.”

“Hapa reps?”

“The iwi is divided into a hundred and thirty hapa. Each hapa has a representative, and he or she will vote on behalf of their people.”

“What exactly is a hapa?”

“Each hapa used to be an iwi, back in the day. But to strengthen our numbers, we were forced to form an alliance. The Rangi was the largest and most powerful iwi, so the other tribes adopted that name.”

“Hang on, you’re saying there were a hundred and thirty iwi in New Zealand alone?”

“More, but some tribes were wiped out.”

“I can’t believe it.” Rye told me there used to be lots of windwalker tribes, but there must have been more than he even knew. “So now all the hapa call themselves Rangi?”

“Yeh, in theory. But there’s a lot of homeland pride, so you may meet a few people who call themselves by their original name. Each hapa is still largely self-governing.”

“Is the Yakone divided into hapa too?”

He frowns. “The Yakone, like all of the seven tribal nations, is made up of smaller groups. But they’re more homogeneous than we are. It’s like comparing the United States to the United Kingdom. Maine and Massachusetts see themselves as part of the same country, but Scotland and England certainly don’t.”

“What hapa are you from?”

“The Kapua. Our name means ‘bank of clouds,’ but don’t let it fool you. We breed some of the fiercest warriors.”

I smile. “What hapa is my family from?”

“Your da came from the Huripari. Their name means ‘cyclone.’”

I raise an eyebrow. “And my mom?”

“The Āki Awha. That’s yours too—children join their mother’s hapa.” Paika shakes his head. “Aroha sure lived up to her clan name.”