Guardian of the Dead (16 page)

Kevin was silent as I went along, but his face gradually went dark red with anger. ‘I'll kill him,' he said when I finished.

I snorted. ‘Yeah, big man, you're a hero.
I'll
kill him.'

‘Why all the mud?'

His fists were clenching and unclenching, and I was reminded of the rage he'd unleashed on Carrie over the packet of chips. The memory was uncomfortable, but it was sort of reassuring to have that fury on my side.

‘I fell over when I ran.' A weird sense of guilt made me add: ‘He did say he'd drive me safely home. It was me who stayed out of the car.'

‘You did exactly right,' he said indignantly. ‘He made a move, you said no, he tried again. You didn't know those other two were going to turn up. You
did
know he'd already pushed it once.'

I tried to take a breath, but my chest heaved and it came out in hiccups. ‘I flirted with him,' I said, my voice stuttering. ‘Even though I knew he had a girlfriend. I feel like I asked for it—'

‘No!'

‘I feel so
stupid
.'

Kevin made a distressed noise and hugged me hard, heedless of the mud that got all over his shirt. ‘You said no,' he repeated. ‘That is the absolute opposite of asking for it, Ellie.'

I leaned on him until I could breathe properly again, and wiped tears away when I pulled back. Then I punched his shoulder. ‘Why are you here? Where the hell did you go with Reka? Didn't you get my message?'

‘Phone out of money,' he said vaguely, and grimaced. ‘I was kind of a dick to you tonight. I thought I should apologise.'

I sniffed. ‘Yeah?'

‘Yeah.' He gestured at his backpack. ‘So I went to the supermarket and got you some dick-apology wine. But I'm broke right now, so it's
urine d'chat.
Normally I'd recommend getting drunk before you open it.'

I tried to smile. ‘Oh, well, if there's wine I forgive you. What happened with Reka?' My voice sounded false in my ears, just a little too casual.

His long nose wrinkled with distaste. ‘She tried to kiss me. We were getting on great until then.' He paused. ‘Actually, I don't think she wanted to take no for an answer either. But she did.'

‘I bet she's not used to hearing it.' I must have sounded too sharp.

He gave me a hard look. ‘She doesn't know many people here. And it's difficult for her, with her allergies. She's a great person, really.' His voice rang with conviction; so much so that I winced at his volume and made exaggerated keep-it-down gestures.

‘I know, I know. I was only . . .'
Terrified for you.
‘. . . wondering where you were.'

He relaxed, losing some of his evangelical air, and pointed at my desk, and the white mask propped on a pile of notes. ‘Is that the mask for
Dream
?'

‘That's it,' I said absently, and then blinked. The mask seemed different, somehow. That buzzing in my ears was back, but it was more like the purr of a contented cat, pleased to have me home. A chill went through me.

‘I can take it on Wednesday.'

‘No!' I said. ‘I mean . . . I can take it.'

‘I thought you didn't have to come to any more rehearsals?' ‘The girls still haven't quite got it,' I lied.

He shrugged and waved the wine bottle at me. ‘So. Are we going to drink this?'

I dragged my eyes toward his, and then away. ‘It's been a long night. School tomorrow.'

He handed me the bottle. ‘In your own time, then. Sorry I was a dick.'

‘Shut up,' I said. ‘I'm going to hug you again.'

‘Okay,' he said agreeably, and let me lean into his warm solidity, my arms moving in and out with the steady rhythm of his breath. ‘You sure you're all right? I can stay.'

I discovered that I was trembling. ‘It's—' I began, then sighed, suddenly aware of how tired I was. ‘It's been a weird week.'

‘When aren't they?' he said. ‘It's a Mansfield tradition.' He squeezed me and stepped back to pull up the window. ‘Good night, Ellie.'

I watched to make sure he was gone, and then went straight to the mask. It warmed in my hands, and the humming purr travelled up my fingers, akin to but not exactly like the shock I'd got from Mark's bracelet. For God's sake, were these magical things lying about everywhere? Frustrated as I was, I put it down carefully, in what was nearly a caress. My dirty fingers should certainly have left marks, but the mask's face was as smooth and clean as ever. I ignored the urge to put it on and see what happened – I'd walked into enough dangerous situations by following my impulses for one night – and resolved to ask Mark about it tomorrow.

But the mask didn't
feel
dangerous. Not to me.

I chewed on my thumbnail, gagged on the mud, put the bottle of wine into the drawer that held the empty beer cans, and went to the bathroom.

A shower was so normal a thing. There was nothing fanciful about the grumbling pipes or the strange pink stain up the tiled wall. I used the final squeezings of my toothpaste and scrubbed until my tongue was numb.

Dropping off to sleep at last, I could still taste the memory of gecko in my mouth.

Mark's assurances aside, I had no intention of just letting Kevin wander around unsupervised while I researched in the university library. He was probably okay during school, but what about afterward? Who knew what he could get up to without someone to keep an eye on him? Unfortunately, the only solution I could come up with was personally humiliating.

‘Hi, Iris? It's Ellie.'

‘Hi!' Iris sounded startled. ‘How are you?'

I'm awful
, I thought.
Last night I got sexually harassed –
twice! – and then I was nearly turned into a tree, and now
I've got to skip school and go to the university library in my
uniform, where everyone will stare at me, and try to research
something I can't even name
. I took a deep breath. ‘This is a bit weird. But can you do me a big favour I can't tell you anything about?'

Iris hesitated, which was a perfectly sensible reaction to being asked for a favour by a not-exactly-friend at seven in the morning.

‘It's about Kevin and Reka,' I added. ‘I'm sorry to bother you, but there's just no one else.'

‘I'll help,' she said instantly. ‘What do you need?'

I sagged. ‘Okay. After school, can you take him to your place to hang out? As if it's your idea? Try and keep him there, and if Reka shows up call me right away. And if she tries to get him to go anywhere, don't let her.'

‘Why?'

‘Uh—'

‘I have a paper on M
ori Urban Migration due on Monday. And exams in two weeks, and a show opening in less than a week that keeps haemorrhaging cast and crew. I'd like to help, Ellie, but I'd also like an explanation.'

‘It's really important,' I begged. ‘You know that something's up. You said so yourself.'

Iris was too polite to sigh wearily, but I could almost hear her struggling not to. ‘But you say you can't tell me anything,' she said.

‘Not now. I don't know enough.' I cracked a bitter smile at Mark's words in my mouth. ‘I'm trying to find out now.' I ran my fingers through my hair, getting caught in tangles before I'd gone three inches. Brushing promised to be painful. ‘Uh. And can you give me your university system username and password?'

The pause was much longer this time, and I tore another fingernail down to the quick with my teeth, afraid to speak again in case I tipped her the wrong way. ‘Will you tell me when you
do
know?' she asked.

Really, what were my options? And it wasn't like Mark's love affair with secrecy had helped me any. ‘Yes,' I said. ‘I'll tell you.'

When she let out her breath, it wasn't quite a sigh. ‘Okay. I'll do it. After school?'

‘After school.
Thank
you.'

For once, I made it to the dining hall in plenty of time for breakfast, and ate with Samia and Gemma. Samia, who had to get up for dawn prayer, had thoroughly woken up by then and was far bubblier than anyone should have been at seven-thirty.

‘Ellie, did you finish the Geo assignment?' she asked, biting into her toast.

There hadn't seemed much point, since I was going to skip anyway. ‘Sort of,' I hedged. ‘You?'

‘Yes,' she said. ‘But it's awful. I have no idea why I even did Geo this year.'

Gemma rolled her eyes. ‘Because it's handy for a journalist to know which country is where?' she suggested. Obviously not a morning person.

Samia rolled her eyes back. ‘Maybe I'll do Law instead. What do you want to do, Ellie?'

‘Teaching,' I said automatically, and then, ‘or maybe Classics at Canterbury.'

Samia nodded. ‘I heard you were good at Classics. Maybe you can take out the cup this year, instead of Nolan.' She filched Gemma's last piece of toast as Gemma turned to wave at her boyfriend across the hall. ‘At least you'll be there to pick it up.'

Gemma turned back and made a strangled cry, grabbing at the crust in Samia's hand. ‘Thieving bitch! Which
reminds
me, did you use my conditioner?'

‘Ugh, no! Why would I want to smell of fake flowers all day?'

I smiled weakly and filled my mouth with scrambled eggs, hoping that Gemma wasn't close enough to me to catch the scent of her hair products.

After breakfast I checked my mail pigeonhole, and was unsurprised to find a note requesting that I meet with Mrs Chappell after school. I pocketed it, and went across the road with the girls, pretending that I wanted to do some homework in the library.

As the corridors filled, I hid in a sciences-building bathroom, and escaped out one of the back gates when everyone else was attending morning group, feeling a little smug. There was no way to avoid being marked absent, but I had successfully evaded premature capture.

It was one of Christchurch's clear winter days, with not a wisp of fog. Given the circumstances, that was more than usually comforting. But the Antarctic wind numbed my nose and fingers in minutes. I joggled in place on the icy stone steps of the library, cursing whoever had invented mornings.

The gangly boy who unlocked the doors did a double-take at my uniform and then smiled at me. ‘Bunking off school?'

‘At the
library
? No. Special study.'

‘Jeez, you're eager,' he said, but pulled the door open.

I'd meant to wait for Mark outside, but it wasn't worth the frostbite, nor the time wasted. I took the lift up to the fifth-floor computer lab and began.

The search engines were not helpful.

I hadn't really expected a webpage or citation for the Legend of The Vampire Witch Ghost That Haunts The Riccarton Bush. Anything like that would have passed through Mansfield's impressive gossip system, increasing in horror with each retelling. But I had hoped for some evidence of Reka's existence, some idea of what she was, the scope of her abilities, and, most importantly, what I could do to stop her.