Coiled Snake (The Windstorm Series Book 2) (8 page)

“What does it mean?”

“To incite a storm.”

“Wait, you’re saying my mom caused problems? I thought everyone blamed my dad.”

“Well, she married him, didn’t she?” Paika mutters.

I eye him sideways but decide not to press him. “Does the Riki come from the original Rangi iwi?”

“Sometimes but not always. When one dies, a new one is elected by the representatives.”

“You mean his son doesn’t become the next chief?”

“Cor blimey, that would never work. Nah, women can be elected Riki just as well as men, and our current chief doesn’t even have a son.”

Sounds like a system the Yakone could use. “So where are the meeting grounds?” I ask.

He reveals the gap in his teeth. “You’ll see.”

After a while, the lake narrows, and we enter a thickly forested area, where the trees lean out over the water, blocking the sky above. Everything is green: the rocks, the trees, the plants, the lake. The air is crisp and sharp, and birds chirp in rhythmic high-pitched squeaks.

We pass a large waterfall coursing down the side of a mountain. Once we move beyond the churning water, I can see all the way to the bottom of the lake, to the yellow and green algae that covers the black rocks.

Before long, the trees open up again, and I catch my breath. We’re in a magnificent gorge. Dizzying, white-capped mountains shoot straight up into the clouds. Here and there, forested islands gleam in the sunlight. The water is so clear, it seems like a continuation of the sky, as if we’re floating through the heavens.

“Where are we?” I gasp.

“Fiordland,” Paika says, laughing at my face. “Lovely, eh?”

Miri steers the boat around the islands and through the ravine that seems to go on forever. Finally, she directs the boat toward a large peak with bushes growing at its base and up its sides. I can’t see a dock, but Miri keeps her course. Soon we’ve reached the mountain, and I grip the sides of the boat as she aims the bow directly at some vines hanging from a cliff.

We don’t crash. Instead, the boat pushes through the vines dipping into the lake, and we move past them into a tunnel. Miri flips on a spotlight as we leave the bright sunshine behind and enter a damp, dark world. For several minutes, all I can see are the cavern walls and black water illuminated by our lamps. But soon a pale blue glow shines in the distance, and I notice chunky stalactites hanging from the ceiling.

As we move forward, the glow grows stronger. The entire ceiling shines pale blue, almost white, and the light ripples on the surface of the water in overlapping circles of purple and black. More stalactites appear and disappear overhead, and stalagmites jut out of the river in little islands. The gleam highlights some of the formations, turning their rocky edges gold. And then we round a bend, and the ceiling bursts into millions of tiny pinpricks. A galaxy of stars.

“LEDs?” I ask Paika, thinking of the lights in the Yakone fortress.

He laughs. “No, you ninny. Glowworms.”

As I gape at the ceiling, a dark shape flutters above us. A second later, it’s swinging back and forth over my head as the stars around it shift. It’s then I see that the points of light are actually strings of light—strings now wrapped tightly around some kind of moth.

The worms flicker above us as we move along the river. In the distance, I hear the sound of rushing water—probably a waterfall.

“Is the water fresh?” I ask.

“Yeh,” Paika answers. “And there’s an underground spring. The entire iwi—I’m talking a lot of people—could hide in here for a long time.”

Ahead of us, I catch sight of a wharf. Several boats are already docked. Miri guides our craft into an open spot, and Mokai jumps out and secures the rope. The rest of us follow; Paika helps me out and supports me as I limp after the others. We climb up a winding path that takes us away from the river.

“Where are we going now?” I ask him.

“To our rooms, to freshen up.”

“They want me to look good, huh?” I joke.

“Don’t be nervous,” Paika says.

“I’m not nervous.” He turns his head to look at me, but I avoid his gaze.

Soon the path we’re following forks at two tunnels. Paika and Miri take me down the passage on the right while Jian and Mokai take the one on the left.

“They’re going to report that we’re here,” Miri says. I nod but don’t say anything.

The passageway takes us to a large chamber, lit by torches and with doors carved into the perimeter. I blink reflexively when I smell the smoke and rub the injury on my arm.

My guardians take me through one of the doorways covered by a blanket, and we enter a small cave. The room contains a bed, a washstand, and a table with two chairs. A sheepskin rug covers the hard floor.

“Bathrooms are out in the common area,” Paika says as he switches on a battery-operated lamp on the table. “You stay here with Miri. We’ll be back to get you shortly.”

“Why don’t you lie down?” Miri says to me after they leave. “It might be a while.”

“Nothing else to do,” I reply, scooting onto the mattress and resting my head on the pillow. The bedding is softer than I thought it would be.

Miri sits down on a chair, and neither of us says anything for a few minutes. “What happens when they come back?” I finally ask.

“We go to the meeting grounds.”

“And then I’ll find out if I get to live.”

“Yes, your case will be presented, and the representatives will vote.”

“If they vote no, how will I die?”

Miri hesitates. “Well, traditionally it’s the block.”

Great. “That’s how the Yakone were going to kill me,” I say.

“Don’t worry. This is different.”

It doesn’t seem different to me. True, this time I’m not stuck in a pit, but everything else about this place is just like the Wakenunat. The tunnels, the subterranean rooms, the glowing lights. How can the Rangi be so like the Yakone and yet so not like them?

“Have you thought about what you’re going to say?” Miri asks.

“Yeah, but I haven’t come up with anything.”

“You don’t need to say much. Sixty seconds isn’t long.”

“Why do I only get a minute?”

“It’s how we keep meetings from taking too long. Hira tautua o nga. ‘Everything that needs to be said can be said in a breath.’ One person will speak against you—that will probably be Tane—and one person, Paika, will speak for you. They each have a minute too.”

I lie back in the bed and try to think, but my mind is blank. Head aching, I listen to the ticking of Miri’s needles as she works on her knitting.

Finally, Paika returns. Instead of his leather jacket and jeans, he’s wearing a grass skirt. Jian is with him; he also wears a grass skirt, though his is fastened with a red and black belt.

“Mokai didn’t want to tarnish his reputation?” I ask.

“He’ll meet us there,” Paika says. He pauses. “There’s something you should know. Tane’s been working hard on the reps. You’ll need to make your defense count.”

I nod numbly, still wondering what I’m going to say.

The four of us walk back into the cavern and then along another tunnel where some of the glowworms have made their home. We pass through other caverns with adjoining bedchambers, other common areas, but I don’t see a single person. We continue walking, the glowworms our only company.

Finally, the tunnel tips drastically upward, and I feel the wind wash over my face as the worms’ pale glow recedes and is replaced by sharp sunlight. We’re going outside.

As we move toward the tunnel opening, I hear the beating of a drum and the wild, warlike chanting of many voices. The drums beat faster and faster as we get closer, and I find myself biting my cheek. The rapid thudding syncs with my pulse.

We step out of the mountain onto a rocky platform. As soon as the sun touches our faces, the drums and the singing cease. The only sound is the howling of the wind.

Below us is a large, flat plateau surrounded by green cliffs on all but one side. That last side is open, offering an unobstructed view of the glittering fiord and, beyond that, the ocean. On the plateau are the one hundred and thirty hapa representatives, all of them waiting silently, staring at me.

I look to the side. Next to us, protruding out of the mountain, is a stone building with a pointed roof supported by a pole running from the ground to the peak’s center. The whole building is etched with the swirling carvings—the roof, the pole, the sides, the floor—just like the meetinghouse at the marae. The wind rushes past us into the entrance.

A handful of men stand directly in front of the meetinghouse. All of them have a dark, twisting moko on their faces. A man in the center wears a black, feathered cloak and a sharp bone through his ear. The Riki, I guess. To his right is a man covered in tattoos and wearing a spiraling necklace, a hiri so similar to my own it makes me flinch. When we make eye contact, he spits on the ground. Tane.

Mokai is standing nearby. He’s looking at me too, with eyes as cold as the rest, but what really worries me is the way he keeps twisting the leather tassel on his patu, winding the cord around and around and around.

After an eon of silence, the Riki raises his hand. “Bring the accused forward,” he says. “And may the gods have mercy on her spirit.”

As the frontal disturbance grows into a wave-like formation, a low-pressure area may develop at the crest. The vertical motion within the low will determine the strength and size of the storm.

When the ancestors of the Māori landed their canoes on the land of the long white cloud, they discovered they were not the first ones on the island. Patupaiarehe, supernatural beings with light skin and fair hair, lived deep in the forests and on mist-covered mountains. They built their homes in these isolated places and were hostile toward any who ventured into their presence.

Paika nudges me down the steps toward the meetinghouse then directs me to a large, flat rock next to a tree. After I climb onto the rock, he chains my wrist to the tree trunk and moves to the sidelines. I scan the crowd, trying to think up names for the angry faces looking back at me, but my mind can’t conjure a single one. I rub the scar on my arm.

When the Riki is satisfied that I’m secure, he nods to Tane who walks forward.

“My people,” the captain shouts, “this prisoner was discovered two months ago outside the Yakone fortress dressed in the clothing of our enemy. She was also wearing this.” He holds up my necklace, and an angry murmur runs through the crowd.

“Members of our iwi have confirmed that this is Kitara Awha, daughter of Hemi Huripari and Aroha Awha. Clearly, she has followed her parents on the path to treachery and is seeking to help our enemies destroy us.

“When our warriors brought her to our council we determined that a matter of this significance required the voice of the people. We placed her under the care of Miri Awha and Paika Kapua until this meeting could be assembled. Now you must decide if the traitor should die, or if she will escape justice as her parents did.”

Tane steps back, and an agitated buzz fills the canyon as the representatives whisper to each other. The Riki then nods to Paika. He walks to the place where Tane was standing.

“Brothers and sisters,” Paika says in his formal voice, “this child is one of our own. She was ignorant of her family’s betrayal and a prisoner of the Yakone, not their confederate. She knew nothing about the proper use of the hiri, and even if she did, how could she have used it against us? You know very well it is no longer a threat.”

More murmurs in the crowd.

“You all know me,” Paika continues. “You know my family. I believe this girl is innocent. I have spoken for her before, and I will do it again, as will others. I hope you will do the same.” He nods at the Riki and returns to his place.

“The accused may now speak,” the Riki states.

Blood pumps through my face as everyone turns to look at me.

“Um,” I cough, “I guess I just want to say that until a few months ago, I had never heard of the Rangi. I had never even heard of windwalking. I ended up with the Yakone purely by accident. They thought I was someone else, and when they realized I wasn’t her, they sentenced me to death.

“The Matoa says that my parents were not punished. I would disagree. The Yakone killed them just like they tried to kill me. Maybe fate has brought me back to my homeland—I don’t know. All I know is that I will not betray you because now I know that you are my people. And that means you are my family.”

I finish speaking and glance at Miri. Her eyes are wide, and I can tell she’s working hard to keep her face in check. I don’t blame her for being surprised. I’m surprised too. It was as if another person was inside me, doing the talking. A person I don’t know.

“Before we vote,” the Riki says, “we must make sure there is a nomination from both sides. Tane, do you still move for the accused’s death?”

“Yes,” Tane says firmly.

“Are there any who will add their voice to his?” the Riki asks. Several people raise their hands. “That is enough,” the chief says. “The nomination holds. Paika”—he looks at the warrior—“do you move for her liberty?”

“I move that she be granted her life in return for the service she will offer the people,” Paika states.

The Riki frowns. “What service is that?”

“She will help us infiltrate the Yakone network by using this.” Paika holds up what looks like a metal toolbox. Then he opens the lid and pulls something out. My eyes widen when I see what’s in his hand. It’s my Quil.

The crowd erupts, and Paika quickly drops the Quil back in the box.

“Quiet!” the Riki shouts over the noise. “Are there any supporters?”

Miri raises her hand. So does Mokai. The tattoo on his arm bulges as he grips his spear; his brown face turns pale. No one else moves.

“Two is enough,” the chief declares. “The vote will now begin.”

The Riki nods to several members of his council. They move through the crowd, distributing a white stone and a black stone to each person. When every representative has received the stones, the council members walk back through the assembly, this time holding out two bags. As they pass by, each person covers his hand with a cloth and drops one of the stones into the voting sack and the other stone into a discard sack. The rocks make a clicking sound as they fall into the bag.

When all of the rocks have been collected, the council members return with their bags to the front of the meetinghouse.

“The council will count the votes,” the chief says. “We will reassemble shortly.” He walks into the meetinghouse, and the rest of the council members follow him. The drummers resume their beat, but no one sings.

The crowd breaks into small groups as the people converse in quiet but intense voices. Miri walks over to me.

“Your defense,” Miri says, “it was—well, it was good.”

“I just thought about what you told me,” I say distractedly. I notice Paika coming toward us and look down.

“Don’t throw a wobbly, Kit,” he says when he gets close, his voice low and pleading.

“How could you?” I whisper harshly.

“It was in your best interest.”

“You lied to me. Again!”

“I knew you wouldn’t go along with my plan if I told you beforehand. I needed you to give a convincing speech. If you thought you’d have to work against the Yakone, you would not have been convincing.”

“You manipulated me. You wanted me to give a convincing speech so that they would keep me alive so that you can use me to destroy your enemies! You didn’t do it for me!”

“By offering that deal,” Miri inserts, “Paika may have just saved your life—again. It gave the people a reason to vote yes beyond simply feeling merciful. Now they see a real benefit to keeping you alive.”

“I won’t do it.”

“Kit, this is the only way you can keep your life,” Paika says. “Can’t you see that?”

“Go away. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I did do this for you,” he says before turning around and walking back to his spot by the meetinghouse.

“Kitara,” Miri begins.

“Please, leave me alone,” I say.

“Just think it over,” she insists. “You’ll see that he had your best interests at heart.” She pauses as if she wants to say something more then shakes her head and walks over to rejoin Paika.

I sink down on the rock and lean against the tree. I can’t believe it. This whole time, Paika had my Quil. And this whole time he’s been plotting to make me use it against the Yakone. I was right to think he was up to something. It was all a lie—the lessons, the stories. He just wanted me to think he was on my side so I would do what he wanted.

Miri was in on it too. Her speech about proving my loyalty, telling me the Yakone killed my parents. I can’t trust anything they’ve said.

I look out past the crowd of hostile faces to the glimmering fiord below. Maybe it won’t even matter. If the reps voted no … The drums echo in my skull as my mind travels along the surface of the water, carrying me out to the ocean, far away.

It takes me a moment to realize the drums have stopped and the Riki, Jian, and the rest of his council are emerging from the meetinghouse. I scramble to my feet. Two of the council members carry a plank of wood between them. A piece of fabric is draped over the wood, bulging over two objects.

Jian steps forward and holds up a hand. “Your votes have been counted.”

No one makes a sound. In the distance, a bird laughs.

“It was an even split. Sixty-five in favor; sixty-five against.” As a collective gasp runs through the crowd, Jian pulls the fabric from the plank of wood, revealing two bowls—one filled with white stones and the other filled with black.

“In situations such as these,” Jian continues, “the determining vote falls to the Riki.” He bows his head to the chief.

The Riki acknowledges the gesture and steps forward. “I have made my decision,” he says.

I squeeze my nails into my fists. My breath rasps in my ears.

The chief removes a stone from a pouch on his belt and places it in the white bowl. “Let it be known,” he says, “that the prisoner Kitara Awha will be granted her life—under the condition that she will unlock this Yakone device and use it to help us track the movements of our enemies. Once she has done this, she is to be considered a full and free member of the iwi.”

I lean breathlessly against the tree. They aren’t going to kill me.

The Riki raises an arm. “E haere ra, my people. Be safe and well until we gather again.”

“E haere ra,” a portion of the throng replies, but their words are drowned out by the angry voices of the other reps.

Someone unchains me—I don’t know who—and suddenly Miri and Paika are hurrying me off the rock, across the plateau, and down the tunnel back to my room.

We continue to practically run down the tunnels, my limp the only thing preventing us from entering a full sprint, and before I know it I’m sitting on my bed again while the two of them are talking to each other rapidly in Kohangaere.

I stare at the floor and rub my ankle. The trial is over. I’m going to live. But now I have to help them kill Rye’s people, his family. My hands move to an aching spot on my forehead.

The rug covering my doorway is pushed aside as Mokai enters the room. He says something to Paika and Miri, also in Kohangaere. As I watch the three of them talking to each other, the tension in my head grows. They planned this. I rub my brow harder. They wanted this to happen. They used me.

The garble of unfamiliar words, their excited gestures, is suddenly too much, and I feel like my head is about to explode.

“Stop talking in that stupid language!” I yell.

They all turn to look at me.

“Use English so I can understand what you’re saying,” I demand. “If you have more plans for me, I want to know what they are. I don’t want to be tricked again.”

“Oh, naff off,” Mokai snaps.

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t understand anything, do you?”

“I understand you all lied to me so I would help you kill your enemies.”

“Kava!” he spits, rolling his eyes.

I stare at him as he turns to Miri. “Please tell me we’re not really related,” he says. He looks at me again. “You do know the Yakone are the ones who slaughtered the parents you’re so fond of, right?”

“How do I know that’s the truth?” I retort, though not as confidently as I meant to. I keep hearing him say “Kava,” the way my mom did. The way I do. “All I’ve been told since I got here are lies.”

“Yeh, that’s right,” he scoffs. “We all made this up so that you would do what we wanted. Everyone in the whole tribe is in on the same lie. You know what your problem is? You only think about one thing: yourself. You think the universe revolves around you, that we spend all our time coming up with ways to manipulate you. Grow up.”

“All right, that’s enough,” Miri interrupts. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”

“She’s a sop,” Mokai says. “And she doesn’t know anything. I’m sick of putting up with it.”

“She will learn,” Miri says. “You have to be patient with her—imagine how you would feel.”

“I don’t have time to be patient.” He walks toward the doorway. “By the way,” he says, looking back at me, “since you wanted me to say it in English: I came to tell all of you to keep a low profile. Tane’s stirred up some of the reps who voted no, and there will probably be trouble.” He pushes aside the rug and leaves.

“I better go check the situation out,” Paika says. “I’ll be back.”

Miri sits down next to me and folds her hands awkwardly in her lap. “You have to forgive Kai,” she says. “He’s not himself right now; he’s nervous.”

I don’t say anything, and she stops talking.

A few minutes later, Paika returns. With him is Jian. “Get up,” Paika orders. “We have to move.”

“What’s wrong?” Miri asks.

Jian steps forward. “The Riki thinks it would be better if Kitara were in a more secure location.” His voice is calm, but the lines on his face are taut.

They usher me out of my room and into the glowing outer chamber. In the distance, I hear shouting; the noise reverberates off the cavern walls. Jian leads us down a tunnel in the opposite direction, and Paika keeps his hand on his patu.

“Is it Tane?” Miri asks.

“I don’t doubt he’s behind it,” Paika growls, “but he’s not officially involved. Wiremu’s the leader.”

Miri curses and tries to make me hobble faster. The tunnel tips up, and soon we reach a flight of stone stairs. “Will you be able to do it?” Miri asks, looking at my ankle.

“Here.” Paika leans forward and, before I can say anything, scoops me up. Then he charges up the stairs.

We climb for a long time, and soon Paika is puffing, but he doesn’t slow down. Eventually we reach a small cavern, and Jian takes us down a tunnel to the left. We continue to move higher into the mountain, climbing another flight of stairs, following another tunnel. Before long, I lose track of where we’ve gone.