Coiled Snake (The Windstorm Series Book 2) (12 page)

Then suddenly it clicks. Aura’s father lived in Canada, where the Quil was programed. That’s why the day is listed before the month, not after.

Hands trembling, I quickly open the Quil again and pull up the keypad. I don’t know how many wrong tries I get before it locks me out of the system permanently. This might be the last one. I hold my breath as I type in the day then the month then the year.

As soon as I hit the last number, the screen changes, taking me back to the main menu. But now instead of just a few applications being active, all of them are lit. I click on the contacts triangle and gasp as countless numbers fill the directory.

“Paika,” I choke. “Paika, I did it!”

“What?” He hurries over me.

“Look!” I show him the Quil.

“Kit!” he shouts, his gap-toothed smile filling his whole his face. “You’re a bloody genius!” He gathers me in a hug, lifts me off my chair, and spins me around the room as we both laugh. Beside us, Ana and Mik are practically jumping up and down as they disable the Quil’s GPS and tracking capabilities. Even Stephen is smiling.

Paika sets me down. “C’mon, let’s go!”

“Where?”

“Poro A. Where else?”

Paika herds us into the hallway, and we climb up multiple tunnels and stairways until we get to a large room that must be near the summit. Monitors line the walls, like in the bunker, but here there are more, each flashing a different video feed. People are rushing in and out, delivering messages to council members and typing data into computer stations. At the center of the chamber is a table with papers, laptops, and books. The chief is standing at the table, talking intently with Jian and a tall man with a piercing in his nose, but when he sees us he motions us over.

“Yes?” he asks excitedly.

“I did it,” I blurt out, holding up the Quil. “I figured out the code.”

My announcement silences the people nearest us, then the people nearest them, rippling outward until all of the voices in the room are stilled. I feel my face grow red as they all turn to look at me.

“Let’s see!” the Riki orders, gesturing to Ana and Mik.

The technicians grab cords and a laptop and quickly connect the Quil to the computer. Mik scans my fingerprint on a small pad and conveys the data to the laptop while Ana projects the images from the Quil onto a large screen that lowers from the ceiling. She navigates through the apps until she gets to a triangle that pulls up a map of North America—a map with thousands of little red dots scattered across the continent.

As I realize what the dots mean, the muscles in my abdomen clench. We’re looking at the locations of the Yakone. Every single member of the tribe.

The room bursts into applause. The Riki pounds Paika on the back, while people I don’t know surround me with congratulations. The council members and warriors point at the projector screen, already forming battle plans, and Jian produces a bottle of champagne. As cups are passed around—“Have some fizzy, love”—I notice the man with the nose piercing watching me. His arms are folded across his chest, and I see a tattoo on his wrist: a blue sea serpent. That’s probably Wiremu, I guess.

“My sincerest congratulations to Kitara Awha, the newest member of our tribe,” the Riki says, holding up his cup. “May this information bring us a swift and sure victory over our enemies.”

Everyone cheers and drinks to the toast.

“Jian,” the chief says, looking at his advisor, “don’t we have something for Kitara?”

“Right,” Jian says. He unlocks a drawer in the table and pulls out my necklace.

“Welcome back to the fold,” the Riki says, placing it over my head.

“Thanks,” I mumble.

I look down at the pendant, studying its curving lines. It’s a snake, I realize. I can see it so clearly now. Before, I’d never noticed that it was supposed to be anything—I just thought it was a design. But now I can make out the snake’s head, biting its tail after looping its long body back and forth.

As I look at the map, I rub the chipped pendant between my fingers, pressing down on the jagged edge of the smooth curves.

The people around me continue their excited chatter, pouring themselves more drinks. My ears catch snippets of their conversations.

“Fools to give up using hiri … ”

“ … system hacked by a teenage girl!”

“This will be too easy.”

“ … give the orders soon.”

I squeeze my necklace harder, feeling their words pound through my skull. I should be ecstatic that I’ve solved the code, that Paika won’t die, that the rest of us won’t be made slaves—for a moment I was. But now all I can think about are those red dots on the map and how if the Rangi wipe out the Yakone, it will be my fault. I always understood that I would give the Rangi the advantage when I unlocked it, but to actually see the locations of all the tribal members, the families …

Suddenly, the bone pendant snaps under the pressure of my grip as a piece of my hiri breaks off. The broken section falls into my hand but something falls out of the necklace—something that rolls across the rocky floor and bounces against Wiremu’s leg.

I watch breathlessly as Wiremu stoops down and picks up the unknown object lying next to his foot. He studies it and then steps toward me.

“Something your father must have left you,” he says, holding his palm upside down to show how the object is sticking to his ring. “Magnet,” he observes as he pries it off his ring and hands it to me. His voice is deep, his piercing gaze unnerving.

“Thanks,” I mumble, taking it from him, mindful of the way everyone is watching us.

I look down in my palm. The magnetized object is a small metal disc. Something is engraved on its shiny surface, and I blink when I see it that it says, “Psalms 62: 9.”

I look back at my necklace. The thickest part of the twisting ornament, the part that broke, is hollow. The metal disc must have come from inside the pendant.

I close my fist around the disc and bits of broken necklace, shifting awkwardly and trying to ignore Wiremu’s stare as whispered comments fly around the room.

“Well,” Paika says suddenly, “we’ll let you get to work.” He places a heavy hand on my shoulder and leads me toward the door. “See you at the ceremony. Remember Rangiātea.”

When we’re back in the tunnels, I show him the disc. He looks it over then hands it back to me quickly, as if it might burn him. “Put that thing away.”

“Okay,” I stammer, slipping the disc and necklace into my pocket. “What is it?”

“I don’t know, but let’s hope people forget about it. The last thing we need is for people to start thinking about Hemi again.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs.

“You mean you think this could point to another way he betrayed the tribe?”

“Could be. At the very least, it’ll remind them that he did.”

Great.
First, the map. Now, this.
Remembering Wiremu’s barbed stare, I force myself to inhale deeply.

“Do you know where I can get a Bible?” I ask.

Paika shakes his head. “We don’t have much use for that around here. I’m surprised Hemi read it.”

“You said something about a ceremony?” I ask, needing to change the subject.

“Your initiation into the tribe. Weren’t you listening?”

“I guess I missed that,” I mutter. “When is it?”

“Tomorrow. It will be brief, but it’s an important ritual. Every member is formally recognized by the rest of the
iwi
when he or she comes of age, prior to the testing.”

“When does the testing happen?”

“Next year. In the spring.”

“In September?” I ask, thinking of the Yakone
maitanga
, wondering in what ways the Rangi version is the same and in what ways it’s different. It’s a little unsettling to think that the Rangi youth were being tested at the same time that Rye and Lila were. I wonder if all windwalker tribes test in September.

Paika nods. “You just missed the last one. But that’s all right. Gives us some time to get you ready.”

“You wanting me to become a fighter, Paik?” I let a half-smile pull at my lips.

“We’re Rangi, girl. We’re all fighters. I want you to be a warrior.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Bloody
pueha
! Have I taught you nothing, mate? All of us know how to fight, which means in wartime all of us can defend our
iwi
. But during times of peace, a good portion of the tribe tends to other duties. Only the warriors are full-time protectors. You have it in you to be
maiha
.”

“What’s that?”

“A leader of warriors.”

I try to picture myself at the forefront of an army of Rangi warriors and fail. “What exactly will happen at the ceremony tomorrow?”

“Your name will be read before the members of the tribe—or at least the ones who are here—they’ll inscribe your name on the sacred wall, and you’ll receive your
moko
.”

“The tattoo on my face?”

“That’s right.”

“What if I don’t want one?”

He frowns. “Well, I guess you don’t have to receive it. It’s not exactly a requirement. More of a tradition—”

“Good,” I interrupt. “I don’t want it.”

“That will make things even shorter,” he says under his breath.

After a moment, I ask, “Out of curiosity, if I did want a
moko
, how would they give it to me?”

“They’d carve your genealogy into your skin with a serrated chisel and then use a dull blade to tap burnt Kauri gum into the cuts.” He laughs when I clutch my face. “It’d only be on your chin,” he says, “since you’re a girl.”

“It sounds awful.”

“It’s a demonstration of your strength and readiness.”

“Will anything happen if I don’t get it?”

Paika scratches his own
moko
. “Well, you might have a hard time finding a marriage partner.”

“Fine with me.”

He laughs again.

“Where are we going now?” I ask.

“Back to your room.”

The mention of my room makes me suddenly notice the absence of my other guard. “Where’s Stephen?”

“He’s not assigned to you anymore.
Blimey, you really weren’t listening were you? You’ve done your job. Soon you’ll be an official member of the tribe.”

We turn the final bend in the tunnel and arrive at my room. “I’ll come back for you tomorrow evening,” Paika says. “Do your best to look nice. And for Heaven’s sake do something with that hair.”

“Get lost,” I say, pushing him away.

He laughs as he walks away. I stand outside my room, unsure what to do with myself now that I’m no longer working on the Quil.

I feel for the broken
hiri
and disc in my pocket. Even though Paika said not to worry about it, I can’t help wondering why my dad put the disc inside my necklace. Did he mean for me to find it? I wonder if word has reached Mokai yet, what he would think about it.

Thinking of Mokai reminds me of our spat earlier.
I should find him and apologize
.

Uncertain about which direction to go, I choose a tunnel at random and ask the first person I meet, a middle-aged woman, where I can find the training rooms. She tells me they’re in
Poro E
, the block directly above us, so I take a flight of stairs and climb higher into the mountain.

My ears tell me I’m in the right place before my eyes do: the sounds of clanging weapons and shouting voices echo off the rocky walls. I follow the noise until I enter what is essentially a large gymnasium—training weapons stacked along the walls, a roped-off arena on one side of the room, a trampoline and foam pit on the other, weights and sports equipment in bins, and probably fifty new trainees scattered around the room, divided into several groups. Multiple slits in the walls allow the wind from outside to enter the room. I feel the draft whistle past my ears.

The trainees are wearing beige utility pants and tank tops, and their trainers are all in black, though some of the guys are shirtless. It doesn’t take me long to spot Mokai. He’s making his group do drills along the length of the cavern. As I watch the trainees run back and forth, I realize with surprise that they’re about my age. And then it clicks: they’re probably the initiates who were called to be warriors during the testing just a couple of months ago. If my parents had stayed in New Zealand and I had been raised a member of the tribe, I might have been among them.

Seeing them makes me think painfully of all the Yakone initiates who didn’t get to finish the testing. If they were still alive, would they be training right now in the
Wakenunat
? I force the thought aside and concentrate instead on my brother. As I watch him giving orders to the new recruits and the other trainers, in some position of authority, I realize I really don’t know much about him.

Just then, Kai looks up and sees me. He turns back around, and I think he’s giving me the cold shoulder until he blows a whistle and tells his group to take a break. Then he walks over to me.

“Hi,” I say awkwardly when he gets close.

“Hello.”

“I came to, um, say sorry. For yelling at you.”

“Paika let you come here by yourself?”

“He’s not guarding me anymore.”

Kai’s eyes widen. “You mean … ?”

I nod, unable to suppress a grin. “I did it.”

“Well, that’s a bloody relief,” he says, exhaling.

“Hey, Kai,” someone calls. It’s another trainer, a guy Mokai’s age with large biceps and a goatee. He’s one of the shirtless ones. As he walks over to us, something in his stride, the way he dips his shoulders when we walks, makes me think of an Italian mobster. “What time are we rotating stations?” he asks.

“In twenty minutes. I’m just giving my kids a break while I talk to my sister.”

“Your sister, eh?” Mafia eyes me over. “You gonna introduce us?”

“Absolutely not,” Kai says.

“Ah, c’mon,” Mafia pleads.

“Don’t make me kick your sorry arse.”

Mafia laughs. “All right, boss.” He walks back to where his group is lifting weights, winking at me over his shoulder.

“What are you gawking at?” Kai asks me.

“Nothing,” I stammer, looking away from him. The last thirty seconds was such a foreign experience. To have an older brother acting protective of me, to have an older brother period … Somehow this brief exchange rocks me more than his pledging his freedom at the trial.

“Here’s the updated schedule,
Kapa
,” a girl says from behind us. Mokai and I turn around. The girl is holding out a clipboard. Half of her head is shaved, and she wears a
moko
on her chin and lips, which are curled in disdain. She makes me feel nervous.

Sunshine
, I name her.

“Thanks,” Kai nods, taking the clipboard. Sunshine pounds her chest then spins on her heel and walks away.

“Come on,” Kai says to me, sighing and shaking his head. “I’ll introduce you to my kids.”

What was that about?
I wonder as I watch Sunshine march over to a bin of exercise balls, but I don’t ask.

We move toward Mokai’s group, and he tells me everyone’s names, but the only one I remember is Julian: with his blond hair and blue eyes, he stands out among all the dark-haired trainees.

When they begin their drills again, I ask Kai how long they’ve been training.

“We just started this week,” he says.

“I thought the
maitanga
was back in September.”

“It was, but the newbies needed time to recover from their
hirimoko
. It takes a while to fully heal, more than a regular
moko
. Plus, a good part of our warriors were away.”

Attacking the Yakone camp and fortress
, I think, the heavy feeling in my chest returning.

“That’s why we have a lot of young blokes supervising,” Kai continues. “We got promoted early—the more seasoned warriors have their hands full with other things.”

“Hm.” I watch the perspiring trainees touch the floor near our feet then turn around and run back the other way. “How many of the initiates were chosen to become warriors this year?”

“Well, all of the
ahia
. A few from the other clans.”

I look at him questioningly.

“Didn’t Paika tell you?”

I shake my head.

“Certain
hapa
are in charge of providing the protection for the rest of the
iwi
. They’re the
ahia.
The other
hapa
support us.”

“Us?”

“The Āki Awha are
ahia.
”

“Oh. Paika did say that Mom was a warrior.”

Mokai nods. “This was hers.” He pulls something out from under his shirt. It’s the jade tiki
pendant I saw him wearing the day we met at Miri’s. “We claim our blood right from our mother’s side.”

“He told me that too.”

Kai shoves the tiki
under the collar of his black t-shirt. “So anyway, all of the
ahia
become warriors. They’ve had training since they were tykes, but we put them through their paces all the same. Plus, there are always a handful of warriors who come from the other
hapa
—we call them the
rohamaka
, the unranked—and we need to get them up to speed fast.”

“Why are they unranked?” I ask, my head swimming with too many Kohangaere words.

“Only the
ahia
can become
maiha
.”

“Wait, you mean that if you don’t come from one of the special
hapa
you can’t become a leader?”

Mokai nods.