Guardian of the Dead (42 page)

The patupaiarehe must have died in the first crushing blow. By the third, all of her beauty and power were stinking red and purple smears.

She had looked at me while she died. Loved me, and I'd used that love to bring her death.

Legs pulled tight against her chest, Hine-nui-te-p
took a deep breath.

Now, the mask decided. Tell the goddess she loved me before the winds came again. Make her love me forever. Hardly a violation, to save myself.

I clawed the mask off and flung it at the ground.

Bile swelling in my throat, I crouched, hiding my face in my hands, and spoke between my fingers, gabbling without consideration of the words. ‘I can't. I can't do it, not even for this. Aren't you sick of lies and betrayals? I am. I'm so
tired
.'

There was silence while I waited to die, then: ‘Yes,' said Hine-nui-te-p
. ‘I am very tired of lies.'

I uncurled slowly, because I was sore, not because I was being cautious. There wasn't any point. Even if I could bring myself to put it on again, the mask lay metres away. The goddess was looking at me. It was hard to read complex emotions on a face so dizzyingly large, but I thought she seemed curious.

‘Hello,' I said, and discovered that even in the awe of this moment, there was room for embarrassment at my own inanity.

‘They still tell my story,' she said, sounding satisfied.

‘Yes. My friend – Mark Nolan. Mark told me. But they tell all the M
ui stories.'

Her straight eyebrows drew together in anger. ‘M
ui's story! M
ui the thief, M
ui the rapist, M
ui that men call hero!' She shifted her legs and I caught a glimpse of the great teeth grinding against each other as she moved. ‘This is
my
story.'

‘Yes. I'm sorry.'

‘Now you will tell me yours,' she declared, and settled back against the rocky wall of the cave. ‘Where are you from?'

I was so exhausted that I would have preferred to have gone to sleep and never woken up, but goddesses didn't have to bow to the whims of mortal girls. I started at the beginning, from bumping into Mark at the gates, to preventing the silver-haired patupaiarehe from crawling into the goddess. ‘And then you woke up,' I concluded, and rotated my shoulders. Every muscle was aching. Rolling on the stone floor had given me scratches to replaces the ones La Gribaldi had healed.

Hine-nui-te-p
smiled, which was probably supposed to look friendlier than it did. ‘So, you aided me. I will not be obliged to you. What do you want?'

‘Nothing,' I said, surprised. ‘I wanted to stop the patupaiarehe winning everything, that's all.' I felt my face twist.

‘They sank the North Island. I wanted them to pay.' I hadn't expected that it would leave me feeling so empty.

She looked at me blankly, ‘But Te Ika a M
ui is not yet dead.'

I staggered to my feet. ‘What?'

She gestured downwards, grimacing. ‘This one – you forced her hand. She made her attempt too soon. He wakes, he writhes – but he has not died.'

‘Can you stop them?' I said. ‘On the surface, can you stop them? I want that!'

‘I will not enter the world of the living,' she said flatly, and I felt it like a kick to the gut. ‘But it is his death dive that will destroy your people, and he is half-dead already.

If it is your wish, I can take Te Ika a M
ui faster, now. His body will remain surface-bound, hooked to the sea and sky. Your people will live.'