Guardian of the Dead (40 page)

Encircling her left wrist was a familiar charm bracelet.

‘Long road,' Blake observed.

I shouted and reached for Mark's murderer. I meant to pluck her from the picture and twist her tiny body, but when I stretched out my hands, they were already stained with blood. Blake caught my wrists.

‘It's your fault, Pandora,' he said. ‘You failed. And even if you knew what to do, she's too far ahead – you'll never catch up.'

‘Iris,' I cried. ‘Help me!'

The house lights flared and Blake stumbled back into the shadows. Iris beamed from the lighting box.

I leaned back into someone tall and solid. ‘Don't forget you saved
me
, Ell,' Kevin whispered in my ear. ‘You loved me enough to hold on.' He gripped my shoulders. ‘And look. There's a shortcut.'

The orchestra pit lowered with a sickening rumble. The movement reverberated through my skull, as if something was shifting there. I stared into the depths where no light shone.

‘Give the old lady my regards,' Kevin said.

I spread my bloody hands like wings, and leaped.

I landed hard, tough grass tearing at the soles of my bare feet. The mask was a mask again, the green eyes pressing cool against my closed eyelids, before it began to slide off my face. I fumbled to catch it one-handed and held it uncertainly. I'd somehow left the handbag behind.

Also, apparently, my clothes.

I hugged my bare torso and surveyed my surroundings. I was high on a cape, much like the one I'd left, but covered in scrub. Far below, a white, sandy beach stretched straight back to the horizon. It looked like any beach in winter, windblown and spare, but I saw also the long tail of the massive fish, and shuddered. On the cape a spring bubbled nearby, and at its very tip something wavered in my uncanny vision: sometimes it was a lighthouse; sometimes an ancient pohutukawa tree; and sometimes a grotto with steam drifting from its craggy mouth. Flickering images suggested other entrances, but those three were clear and strong.

It was dusk here. How much time had I lost in the mists?

There was a steady procession of people, as naked as I was, making their way up the slope; lamenting and wailing as they walked toward the spring, calm and purposeful after they had bathed in it and drunk from the water. They moved to the tree – no, lighthouse – no, grotto – wavered, and were gone. If their journeys continued from there, I couldn't see them.

‘I made it,' I breathed. I had come safely through the mists to Cape Reinga, Cape Underworld, the leaping-off place of the spirit.

I gripped the mask loosely, and entered the crush of bodies, heading for the stream.

‘Hey, girl!' said the man beside me.

I shrieked and leaped back into kicking distance, my free hand rising in a block.

He flashed me a white grin, taking no offence, and I took in his ochre-smeared chest and the tattoos writhing down his impressive shoulders and arms. I hadn't recognised him without his biker leathers.

‘I'm sorry,' I said. It was so inadequate, but it was all I could say. I didn't know his name. Even now, I couldn't tell which of the three he was.

‘Me too, eh.' He glanced at the eyes in the mask I carried and suddenly straightened. ‘What are you doing here with those? We thought that Mark was going.'

I cringed. ‘He died. I tried to find Matiu but—' A sudden hope washed over me. ‘But
you
could go!'

He stepped away from the proffered mask as if it was some venomous creature, eyes fierce in his weathered face. ‘You kidding me? You want to send me down there, dead and remembering forever? I'm not coming back, girl! I'm one of hers now.'

‘I shouldn't be here! I don't know what to do! It's not meant to be me!'

‘Well, it's not going to be me,' he said definitely, and gave me a long look as we reached the stream. ‘Don't drink the water.'

I thought of the waters of Lethe, the river in Hades that made the dead forget the living. Was it something like that? ‘Why not?'

‘Jesus. You really don't know anything. Here.' He strode into the water, then wrapped his massive arms around my waist and lifted me across.

I nodded my thanks, a little stiffly, and started walking.

‘Hey!' he called, and I turned. His hands were cupped together in front of his chest, dark water trickling from the gaps in his fingers. ‘You're
not
meant to be here. But you're all they've got. Don't screw up, eh? And good luck.' He dipped his head and drank before I could thank him.

The thing at the end of the cape solidified as I approached. It was a tree most often now, and I wasted a thought on whether it had chosen that form or I had. The woman before me climbed into the twisted branches and leapt gladly toward the setting sun.

But I knew that wasn't my route. Between the exposed roots, sprawled like the legs of a sleeping woman, was a dark hole that stretched away into nothingness.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, cradling the mask in my arms. I could turn around right now; count on the people I'd left behind to defeat the patupaiarehe. This was the backup plan. There was no point in going if all the monsters were dead. I'd fail for nothing.

I curled my bare toes in the sandy soil and waited, a little curiously, to see if courage or fear would win.

The ground buckled under my feet. I threw myself backward, clutching at the matted grass with my free hand to keep myself from being flung into the air. In my double vision, the tail of the fish was twisting wildly. The air was filled with a high-pitched keening.

‘Oh no,' I panted. ‘Oh no, oh no. Those
bastards
!'

I couldn't stand on the writhing earth. Flat on my belly, clutching the mask awkwardly, I hauled myself to the entrance to the underworld, grass and sand scratching at my bare skin. I was hissing through my teeth, a low litany of curse words. They'd killed Mark, and my guests, and now they were going to kill my home.

But not unpunished.

I had neither courage nor fear left, only a violent urge to deprive them of their blood-won victory. ‘Hine-nui-te-p
,' I whispered, hanging half into the hole. ‘I'm coming.' Then I kicked with my powerful legs and, for the third time, fell.

WON
'
T GIVE IN

T
HERE WAS BARE
, wet rock underfoot, and the air smelled musty and dead. I waited a minute for my eyes to adjust to the blackness, then realised they wouldn't. There was no light at all. Grimly, I fitted the mask against my face.

It hummed its content and sank easily into my skin again. Reka's eyes cooperated more grudgingly, showing me the wide limestone tunnel as if it were lit by the moon – all deep shadows and rocky forms. There was no opening above me, and the only direction was forward.

I ran, revenge black and twisting in my heart.

The earth didn't shake here. It wasn't as formlessly terrifying as the mist – humans could walk here, it seemed, even living ones. I wondered if it was real for a moment, then dismissed the question. It was real enough to hurt my feet as I ran, real enough to score my shoulders and thighs as I banged against toothy stalactites dripping water and the stalagmites thrusting upward. They were the largest I'd ever seen.

A sharp piece of flint slashed the sole of my left foot, and I thought of Iris limping, bloodied. Mystical adventures seemed to involve a lot of minor aches and pains that didn't make it into the stories. I wondered if Orpheus had ever stubbed his toe on the way to rescue Eurydice. Lopsided, I ran on, leaving my blood smeared on the pale rock floor.

My breath was coming in pants, nearly sobs. The patupaiarehe were going to live out the remainder of their long, pointless lives, and then they were going to die, and stay dead. I had the hardening ambition to help some of them get there a little sooner. Maybe Reka could help me, once I gave her back her eyes.

But first, I had to stop the fair-haired woman from completing her work. Find her, before she got to Hine-nui-te-p
, and crawled between the legs of the sleeping guardian to bring her people the immortality they craved.

Lie in ambush, the mask suggested. Let her get one look at the mask, and then she will be ours. Tell her to beat her own brains out. Or we could order this goddess to kill her for us.

I stumbled to a halt. The mask could work its magic on the will of Hine-nui-te-p
?

Certainly, it replied, full of confidence. It was very old, and very strong, especially with these mist-born eyes. And it loved me. Everyone should love me. All the Gods should love me and order the world to my desires. Did I want the pale boy back? I could have that too, if this guardian of the dead were mine.

Of course, she would have to love me forever. I couldn't let one like that ever go free.

I braced against the worn cave wall, trembling. The mask shivered anxiously. Had it offended?

‘We'll stop the patupaiarehe,' I whispered, and it subsided, satisfied, as I began to run again.

The tunnel widened gradually, until even Reka's moon-sight could not show me the ceiling. I heard the slow sighing of the wind, like massive exhalations, echo through the caves. The final cavern was cathedral-huge, and ended in a collection of enormous shapes that almost covered the back wall – rocks, I guessed, piled three stories high.

I swallowed defeat, bitter in my dry mouth, and faltered to a slow walk. The rock fall barred my way, and even the mask couldn't order it open.

The shadows moved. Wind gusted over me as Hine-nui-te-p
exhaled.