by David Hair
Ah Lum and Hemi left. Cass stayed. Damien remained, huddled over Shui. Mat turned away from them, staring down at Evie. Jones had shown him magical healing, enough to know that it was incredibly specialized and difficult. Those that practised it mostly had to do so at the expense of all other skills, just like regular doctors. Mat wasn’t one of those and nor was Jones. Field surgery was all either could do, and this wound was beyond that. Gut shots always killed — if the blood loss didn’t kill the victim, then the internal wounds and infection did.
I’m sorry, Evie. If you’d never known me, you’d be alive today. I wish we’d never met.
‘I wish that too,’ said a woman’s voice.
Mat looked up, flinching. Aroha stood on the other side of the table, but she was also Hine-te-po, Goddess of Death. Her eyes were like the moon, her hair limned in frost. She held a bone patu in her hand, quivering as she raised it over Evie.
‘I have come to take her away,’ Aroha said quietly. ‘She is dying.’
Goddess of Death
Mat stared at Aroha — at Hine-te-po — across Evie’s body, as tears etched a path down his face. Anger filled him. ‘Are you here to gloat?’
Aroha’s face turned flinty. ‘Is that how you imagine me?’ she asked, her voice pitched between irritation and sorrow. ‘Do you think me so cruel?’
‘Yes!’ Mat barked. ‘I do!’
‘Mat?’ Cassandra asked tentatively. ‘Who is she? Where’d she come from?’
‘You were the woman in Paihia,’ Damien said accusingly, Shui’s head in his blood-wet lap. ‘You told me to go to Parihaka.’
‘Stay out of this,’ Mat warned them, terrified of what Aroha might do to his friends. ‘She’s leaving.’
Aroha shook her head minutely. ‘I will leave, with her.’ Her hand gripped Evie’s shoulder. ‘She is coming with me.’
‘No! I can heal her! I can save her! I can—’
‘There is no-one here who can save her,’ Aroha interrupted flatly. ‘No-one except me.’ She met Mat’s gaze with unflinching eyes. ‘But I will save her for you, if you make me a promise in return.’
Mat froze. This was why Aroha had come. Not to save lives, but to extract promises. ‘How dare you?’ he hissed. ‘Who gave you the right to play god?’
‘Or goddess?’ Aroha replied ironically. ‘I gave myself that right. Do you want her to live or not?’
Mat swallowed, nodded. ‘Please,’ he choked.
‘I can bring her back to life, but in return you must promise to come to me when the seasons change.’ Aroha’s voice was a strange mix of certainty and a subtle, underlying fear.
Mat closed his eyes. She said that the way to her is hard. That of all the Adepts currently in Aotearoa, only Byron or I could do it. She’s afraid of Byron. She cares nothing for me, just for what she needs. But that doesn’t change the fact that I have no choice at all. Not if I want to save Evie’s life.
He slowly nodded his head.
‘Speak the words,’ Aroha said implacably.
‘Mat?’ Cassandra tried to intervene.
‘Silence!’ Aroha snapped at her, the words throbbing in the air about them. Cassandra flinched and went dumb. Aroha turned back to Mat. ‘Pledge yourself.’
Mat hung his head. ‘I promise, on my life, to come to you in December, and …’ he searched for the right words, ‘ … do what I must.’
Outside, thunder rolled. Aroha smiled. ‘The heavens hear you, Matiu Douglas.’
Mat gazed at her. ‘You have so much power. You could have helped us. You could have killed Byron yourself. And Kiki too.’
Aroha shook her head. ‘No, in fact I would have been helpless before them. This flesh vessel cannot contain the goddess for very long, and I can easily be cast from it. They would have mastered me, and all would have been lost. I could not have aided you. I am sorry.’
He didn’t know why, but he believed her.
‘Let the journey of Tawhaki guide you, and the fate of Maui warn you,’ she said gravely. Then suddenly, between two heartbeats, she was gone. Silence filled the air.
Until Evie coughed and woke.
Evie roused from a hideous dream, in which a stern face she knew was Puarata’s filled the sky, staring down at her while she bled to death, and worms crawled from the earth to pull her down. She found herself in a tiny tavern that looked like it had been vandalized. Mat was cradling her. When he saw her one eye open, he collapsed over her and hugged her while his shoulders shook.
Gradually, once they’d both calmed, he related what had happened. It was awful: Jones was dead, and many of the Chinese and Parihaka people. Of their enemies, only Hayes was dead; Bryce and Kiki and Byron had all got away, taking the Wooden Head with them. And Riki was still Bryce’s prisoner. Their attack had been a train wreck, a total disaster.
‘I don’t know what to do any more,’ Mat said in a hollow voice. ‘I just can’t think.’
Evie squeezed his shoulders weakly. She felt like she’d been punched hard in the stomach and there was blood all over her clothes, but the bullet wound already looked years old, just a scar, puckered and ugly. She still felt like she might faint if she stood up. But there was one way she knew to help. ‘Where are my cards?’
Mat and Cassandra propped her up in a chair at one of the card tables, and she shuffled through her tarot. They’d found all her cards strewn about her in the mud where she’d fallen from the roof. They were soiled, but still usable. Mat and Cassandra sat with her. Damien remained on the floor with Shui. She looked like a broken toy, but at least she slept. The doctor said she’d live, the one piece of good news from this whole night.
‘See,’ Evie said, laying out two spoons in a cross. ‘This is the compass.’ She put a coaster in the middle of the table. ‘This is Arrowtown.’ She placed others: ‘Queenstown. Christchurch. Dunedin. Invercargill. Any others we need we can place later.’ She fanned out her playing cards and plucked a few out before flinging them onto the table. They shifted instantly into place, moving of their own volition. Or hers — she couldn’t tell where she stopped and the cards began. ‘Look, there is the Jack of Clubs: Bryce. He’s heading towards Dunedin.’ She jabbed a finger at the Nine of Hearts, which was under the Jack: ‘He’s got Riki with him.’
Cassandra growled softly.
Evie indicated another cluster, three cards that had spewed right to the edge of the table. Even as they watched, they dropped to the floor. ‘What were those cards?’ she asked, as Cassandra scooped them up.
‘Jack of Spades. King of Spades. The Joker. Wicked poker hand.’ Cass put them back on the table.
‘The King and Jack of Spades represent Kiki and Byron,’ Evie told them. ‘They’ve gone north. They’re out of this game.’
‘What’s the Joker?’ Cassandra asked.
‘The Wooden Head, I guess.’
‘But it’s not with Bryce. They’ve separated, yes?’
‘It seems so,’ she replied tiredly.
Cassandra looked at Mat. ‘So what do we do?’
‘Bryce is alone,’ Mat said grimly.
Evie nodded. Her hands blurred as she flicked out three tarot cards — one each for past, present and future — before she’d even framed a question. All of the cards were Major Arcana. The first card, the past, was the inverted King of Cups, signifying a shifty and dishonest person, craftiness without virtue. Bryce, perhaps? The present was The Fool: rashness, foolishness, lack of discipline, but also passion and enthusiasm. It had fallen on the table to slide slightly beneath the King of Cups. To her it meant Riki, imprisoned by Bryce, but it could just as easily mean Mat. She looked at the third card and shuddered slightly. The Tower: sudden adversity or change. Loss. A card of great and terrible loss, when there had already been so much.
‘What does it mean?’ Mat demanded.
She searched her heart and spoke honestly. ‘I think it means that either you or Bryce is heading for ruin.’
Mat nodded, his expression bleak and determined. ‘Good,�
� he said, standing up. ‘I’m going to Dunedin, to bring Riki back.’
Mat wrapped the feather cloak about his shoulders, huddling into its warmth. He cradled the taiaha of Ngatoro protectively, shuddering to think how close he’d come to losing it. If Byron had not dropped the precious weapon when he was electrocuted, it would be in his hands now. Cass had saved Mat, maybe saved them all.
The sun was coming up, somewhere behind the hills. It would be another hour until direct light hit the town. Mist streaked over the forested slopes — they were a beautiful but chilling sight.
Mat had finally got some sleep around midnight. The miners and townsfolk who’d not taken sides had flooded into the town once the conflict was over. Mat had left the explanations to Samuel Goldston, and concentrated on looking after those he loved. He found Cass and Evie a room in Hayes’s tavern with two tiny single beds, hugged them both, then tore himself away. Damien stayed with Shui, who was wrapped in a blanket and seemed stable. Then Mat found himself a bed in an abandoned house and collapsed on it. The desire to escape his numbing grief enabled him to sleep, as lifeless as a corpse. He woke at dawn and packed to go.
Before he left, there was something he needed to do. Jones’s body was lying in a temporary morgue, a small house belonging to the local priest. The door was unlocked, and he let himself in. The body of his mentor lay on a table, arms folded across his chest. Mat had seen death before. Sometimes people looked merely asleep, on the verge of sucking in a breath and waking. Jones didn’t. His body looked utterly empty, so void of life it was hard to imagine he’d ever lived. Not because of any great damage, in fact the corpse was whole. But it was completely lifeless.
There were a few flowers scattered about the body, brought by the people of Parihaka. Apart from that there was just the table and a few chairs, and no-one about. Mat was grateful: he needed to be alone.
After long minutes staring at Jones’s body, words bubbled from his mouth uncontrolled. ‘Jonesy, I can’t believe this. I mean, I know what we do is dangerous, but I never thought there was anything in the world more dangerous than you. I thought you were invincible.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I thought I was too. But I was done. Byron had me beat in a few seconds. If Cass hadn’t come …’ He shook himself. ‘You’d have loved it: she electrocuted the prick.’ Tears rolled down his cheeks as he imagined what Jones would have said. ‘I feel like I’m trapped. I never got the chance to tell you, but there’s this girl called Aroha and she needs me. I’ve got to go to her, to prevent a bad thing. But I think I’m falling in love with Evie, and if I had any choice, I wouldn’t go near Aroha. Not that she’s a bad person, but she’s scary and unpredictable and I just don’t know her. And she isn’t Evie. She’s not the right one. Not for me.’
He wished against all reason that Jones would sit up and talk to him. He didn’t. ‘So I don’t know what to do. I know what you’d say: that I must do what’s necessary. But I’m frightened that won’t work out either — what if I go to Aroha as she demands but there is no love in my heart for her? Won’t that make me just as bad as Byron?’
There were no answers. No signs. Time was passing.
‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered to Jones’s body. ‘I’ve got to go.’
He met Damien on the street. His friend’s face was streaked with tears and he was holding his sword unsheathed. ‘Let me come,’ he said in a broken voice.
Mat shook his head. ‘Look at you. You can’t come. We’re travelling through daylight in the real world. It’s Cass and me on this one.’ He turned away.
‘I brought this on us,’ Damien sobbed. ‘I dragged Riki into the middle of all this shit, and that brought the rest of you in. I got Jones killed, and I nearly lost Shui as well. And Evie. I have to make this right.’
‘It’s not your fault. Aroha tricked you, and Riki too.’
Damien stared at him. ‘Why did she do that?’
‘To force me to pledge myself to her. She’s a goddess and she can see the way things are likely to turn out, even clearer than Evie can.’ He stared out at the mountain peaks, tried to take courage from their strength and permanence.
‘And she’s got the hots for you?’
‘Not exactly.’ Mat exhaled heavily. ‘I’m just the best of a bad lot of options for her. Anyway, you stay here with Shui. She needs you.’
‘But you can’t take Bryce on your own.’
‘If I can get him alone, I can,’ Mat countered. ‘And I’ve got a better chance of doing that on my own.’
‘You’re taking Cass.’
‘Time is of the essence, Evie’s reading said. Cass is just there to do the driving.’ Not that I’ve told her that.
Damien laughed bitterly. ‘You’re a superhero but you can’t drive. That’s kinda funny, man.’
‘I can drive. But I need more sleep. And you know what Cass is like: she’s always handy to have around.’ Like when she saved my butt last night.
Damien hung his head. ‘I still wish you’d let me come.’ But already he was glancing back over his shoulder to the house where Shui lay.
‘Go to her, man.’
Damien nodded heavily. ‘Okay. I’ll do what you say.’ He took a few steps towards Mat and hugged him roughly. ‘Don’t make me regret it. Make sure you come back.’
The other farewells were no easier. Goldston, Ah Lum and Hemi all thought he was mad, but at least they understood. For Hemi especially, he represented a chance they’d never had before, the chance to break free of Bryce’s hold forever. All Mat could say was that should he fail, they should not give up trying to be free.
Evie was asleep when he called in on her, and he was grateful for that. Seeing her was tearing his heart, and the knowledge that he was now irrevocably pledged to Aroha was perversely making him care for Evie even more. He crept away, wiping furiously at his eyes. He stepped outside, leant against the veranda pole and stared into the rising sun, as if to burn away the tears.
I can understand why you need me, Aroha. I can understand your desperation not to have Byron find you instead, and to be forced to bear another Puarata. But I hate what you’re doing to Evie and me.
Cassandra appeared behind him, pale and tired. ‘Hey, I’m ready,’ she said with forced levity. ‘Hair done, nails polished, wearing my best underwear.’
He nodded wearily, and picked up his pack and taiaha. ‘Okay, let’s go.’
A public debate
Dreams. Jones always used to say you should take notice of them. Not because they come from somewhere else, but because they come from inside: the subconscious given licence to run riot. If you want to know what you really think of something, see what you dream of it all.
Mat slept in the passenger seat of Cassandra’s car, dreaming of a cemetery coated in ash. Everyone he knew was there, dead or dying of something he’d allowed to befall them. Damien and Shui lay entangled on a slab; her with her throat opened, her veins run dry; him with his own blade slicing through his ribcage and into his heart. Jones lay unmoving, no wound on his body but his life gone, eaten by the Wooden Head. Evie had Byron’s bullet in her belly, her eyepatch missing and both eyes milky and blind. The morgue went on forever, and so did the victims, people he’d known, people he still knew, people who weren’t even dead. And the last slab contained …
‘Hey,’ Cass poked him in the shoulder. ‘Mat, we’re here.’
‘Wha’?’ He opened his eyes blearily, and the final corpse vanished before he could identify it. ‘Dunedin?’
‘Sure is!’ She stabbed a finger to her right. A stadium lay beneath the level of the motorway, and beyond it houses, a harbour, and hills enclosing them from all sides. ‘That’s Carisbrook, the old rugby stadium. The centre of the city’s up ahead. Where d’ya wanna go — the Octagon?’
Mat stared at the stands of Carisbrook as they surged past. He remembered watching rugby tests on telly that had been played there. The crowd had been full of exuberant students — the famous ‘scarfies’. His mental image of Dunedin was of a
cold place full of insane students. Carisbrook looked kind of empty and forlorn now: there was a new stadium on the other side of town. ‘What’s the Octagon?’
‘The centre of the city. It’s a park in the middle of town and guess what shape it is?’
‘Uh, an octagon?’ He rubbed his eyes.
‘Cor, you ain’t half clever, Matty.’
He gave her a look. ‘Hey, I’ve never been here before, and I’ve just woken up.’
‘Mmm. I’ve been here with Dad. It’s pretty: kinda European-looking, with stone buildings and all. “The Edinburgh of the South”, they call it. Dad had this long-distance girlfriend for a while who lived down here, and he brought me down a couple of times.’ She shrugged disinterestedly. ‘So, what’s the plan?’
Mat yawned and rubbed at his eyes. ‘I guess we try and find where Bryce has got Riki, and try to break him out. I’ve got no idea how we do that though, so I guess we go to Aotearoa and see what’s what.’ He studied Cassandra as she negotiated the traffic. ‘How’re you going?’ He thought she looked tired and brittle.
‘I’m fine,’ she said immediately, her voice terse. She changed the subject. ‘You know, the most famous things in Dunedin are probably the Octagon, Larnach Castle, Olveston House, and the albatross colony at Taiaroa Head. Wanna bet where Bryce will be hanging out?’
‘If I was an insane wizard, I’d want a castle,’ Mat said after a moment.
She smiled briefly. ‘That’s what I reckon too.’
Cass changed lanes as the harbour came more clearly into view. They traversed a land bridge over the rail lines servicing the central city and veered into an area of taller buildings. There were no real tower blocks though; nothing more than half a dozen storeys tall by the look of it, which was nice, Mat thought. He’d seen Auckland; the skyscrapers were showy but kind of alienating too, as if only important people were permitted to fly so high.
They parked on Moray Place not far from First Church, the Presbyterian church on a low hill a few blocks from the Octagon and the centre of town. It was only about eleven in the morning, and it was Tuesday, Mat realized to his vague surprise. He’d been steadily losing track of days. He knew he ought to text his father, but what could he say?