Justice and Utu (9 page)

Something reptilian stole across Donna's face. She stood abruptly. ‘Get packed. We must go to meet Wiremu.' She jabbed a finger at Mat. ‘You. In private.' She walked to the bedroom, held the door open and, once Mat was inside, shut it behind her.

Damien looked at Evie with troubled eyes.

 

Mat walked tentatively into the room, wondering what sort of trouble he was in. Donna shoved the door close, and leant against it, with her arms folded across her chest. ‘I want you to keep your mind on our goals, and not on that girl,' she told him.

He was still reeling from the channelled images and emotions of Everalda's tarot reading.
That was amazing. I'm never going to get her to do my cards, though!
Then he focused on what he'd sensed radiating from Donna: envy, that Evie liked him — and something else, a jealous possessiveness he couldn't fathom.

‘You're fascinated with her, aren't you? Of course you
are! But she's mine, Matiu. I found her, I taught her, and she belongs to me.' She wrinkled her nose. ‘She's completely different to you, Mat. Her skills are entirely passive. And when I cure her vision, which I will do when I no longer need her insights, she will lose it all. All her latent Gift has been channelled into that blind eye, and when I heal it, those powers will fade away.'

His heart was hammering as Donna pushed off from the door and walked towards him, unsure if he should be defending himself. He was somewhat surprised to find he was taller than her, because in all his dreams she towered over him.

‘I recruited her, secretly,' Donna recounted. ‘Puarata knew nothing of her. Only a few pawns of mine ever met her. I had plans for her, then, but those plans have changed. We will find my father and kill him. After that, I will cure her, and she will go back to Auckland and live untroubled. You will stay away from her.'

Mat frowned. This was so unlike the Donna he thought he knew that he could scarcely credit it. Since when did she care to protect others? ‘Who is she to you?' he asked carefully.

‘No-one,' Donna replied quickly. ‘Listen: once this is over, I don't care what you do, so long as it is nothing to do with her. And right now I need you and her focused on finding my father, not making calf-eyes at each other.'

‘We've barely met,' he blinked. ‘I don't even—'

‘Save it. I know what I've seen,' Donna snapped. ‘Stay out of her head and let her concentrate on what is required of her. If she screws up, we could all end up dead.'

She whirled and stalked out, barking orders at Damien and Evie.

 

‘Reckon he'll show? Reckon he'll bring help?' Damien whispered.

‘I don't know. We just have to be ready to follow his lead, I guess,' Mat replied, just as quietly.

They were huddled around a picnic table at Takapuna Beach, on a strip of grass called Gould Reserve. Warm winds blew in off the sea, and Rangitoto, a dormant island volcano, seemed to float above the teal waters. The three teens were together, while Donna sat apart from them, sitting on the sea wall, staring stonily into space. The morning sun burned down, and the boys wore sunglasses. Evie was squinting, her head tilted so that Mat couldn't see her patch. Preschoolers were swarming over the sand, and parents with takeaway coffees and ice creams patrolled. A woman was walking her dog in the surf, a yapping terrier. A typical Saturday morning. It felt surreally normal.

Mat eyed Donna, thinking about what she'd said. He could understand the need to stay focused, although every time he caught Evie's eye, he felt something tug at him. But was there more going on here?

‘I wish we had our mobiles,' Damien said. ‘Riki and Cass will be wondering where we are.'

They all looked at Donna. Mat sighed and got up, and walked towards her.

‘No,' she said before he could open his mouth. ‘Not until after we've settled things with Wiremu.'

‘My dad will be wondering where I am, and Riki and Cass were going to meet my flight. By now Mum'll know I'm
missing, and she'll fear the worst. One call, Donna, please!'

She looked up at him. ‘You used my first name. I suppose I should be grateful.' She raised her wrists, where the handcuffs still rattled. ‘Remove these and I'll consider it.'

Mat had forgotten them. He sidled up and gripped the metal, let his consciousness explore the locking mechanism, and
twisted
it. He heard them click open. Her wrists underneath were scabbed and chaffed. She tossed the handcuffs to the ground with a satisfied look. ‘Thank you.' She gripped his wrist. ‘Now remove the bonds on my power.' Her eyes burned into his.

He pulled away, unnerved. ‘I don't know how.'

‘I could show you. My knowledge, your strength. You could do it.'

He shook his head, scared at the thought of her with her full abilities returned. She was already frightening enough as it was.

Something behind him caught her eye, and broke the moment. Mat followed her gaze, and saw Wiri walking towards them from a big 4WD. He was clad casually, but strode towards them like a lion.

‘Wait here,' Donna hissed. She stood and went towards Wiri.

Mat almost followed, but restrained himself. It was Wiri. He would know what to do, how to deal with the witch. He returned to the others. They all watched the exchange between Donna and Wiri, straining and failing to hear the words, but catching the flow of it from the way they moved. She leant in and he away. He brushed off her hand. Mat suspected, from a number of clues, that Donna had once been
in love with Wiri, utterly unrequited.

Eventually the two adults seemed to agree on something, and Wiri came to join the teens. Mat jumped to his feet and hurried towards him. ‘Hey, chief,' Wiri greeted him. ‘You OK?'

‘Jeez, I'm glad to see you,' Mat said fervently, throwing himself at the warrior and hugging him. For an instant he was fifteen again, on the road with Wiri and Kelly and Fitzy, defenceless and bewildered. The warrior was the rock on which everything he'd built since rested. ‘It's crazy, man. She's making us all go with her after Asher and Venn.'

‘She's explained. She wants me to come with you and help.'

‘Will you?' Mat blurted.

Wiri chewed his lower lip. ‘It's not straightforward, Mat. Grey has sent his men south, following a solid trail. Yet Donna claims that Asher is going north. She says the girl is a seer, and is tracking them for her. Is that true?'

Mat nodded. ‘I saw her doing it. She's amazing,' he added, making Wiri's eyebrows lift faintly.

Donna joined them. ‘Well?' she asked, her face apprehensive.

Wiri faced her warily. ‘Remind me why I shouldn't take you back to Governor Grey right now.'

‘Because Venn and Father will get clean away if you do. They're going north to the Bay of Islands, and no doubt there's a ship waiting. Then they'll sail for the East Coast, back to Venn's stronghold in the Ureweras, and that'll be it. Grey's following a false trail. Only we can track them and, between you, Mat and I, we can thwart them.'

Wiri shook his head. ‘Your powers are bound, Donna. Mat
against both Venn and Grieve is not a fair fight. It would be suicide.'

Donna scowled. ‘Then we will find aid on the road.' She took a couple of steps closer. ‘I need this, Wiremu. I deserve a life, free of Father. Free of Puarata! If I bring him back, Grey will have to let me live. Please, give me this chance!'

Wiri glanced at Mat. ‘If we fail, we'll not be able to show our faces in Akarana or the North again. There will be warrants for our arrest. Grey may even be able to persuade the premiers of Wellington and the Christchurch elders to hunt us down also.'

Mat swallowed. What would Ngatoro and Jones think if their protégé became a wanted criminal? He looked back at Damien and Everalda, who were still on the park bench, watching them intently. Neither was likely to be affected by such a sanction, but they would be safer staying here than joining a mad chase after the two most dangerous men in Aotearoa. He felt honour-bound to have them released from this. ‘If Wiri and I come with you, will you release Evie and Damien?'

Donna shook her head. ‘We need Everalda until we have Father in sight. After that, I want her out of it. As for your friend, it's up to him.' She put her hands on her hips. ‘Time is wasting. We have a long journey to make.'

Wiri ground his teeth, and then let out a slow breath. He looked at Mat. ‘I've only met Damien a couple of times, but I presume if he's your mate then he'll be as stubborn as you?'

Mat sighed. ‘More so.'

‘Lord help us … Alright! We'll do this your way, Donna, and we will see it through. But the first chance we have to
leave the girl somewhere safe, we do so. And we involve the authorities if and when I think we need to.'

Donna gnawed her lower lip for a second, then nodded. She turned to Mat. ‘Bring the others. We take Wiremu's vehicle.' She stalked towards his 4WD without a backward glance. As if this were some kind of signal, Damien and Everalda hefted the travel bags and hurried towards them.

Everalda cautiously extended a hand to Wiri. ‘Mat's told me about you. I'm Everalda, but you can call me Evie.'

Mat watched them shake hands, saw Everalda's eyebrows lift somewhat, even though he thought she had her sensitivity clamped right down, which was wise. Wiri would be hard to read. Wiri smiled at her, and led them back to his vehicle. It was a Toyota 95S Prado, a big eight-seater. ‘Good for on-and off-road, heaps of room, and three-litre so enough grunt,' Wiri commented. ‘It's a rental, so let's hope it doesn't get shot up,' he added. He took the wheel, and Donna chose the front passenger seat.

Damien headed straight to the back seats, leaving Everalda and Mat to share the middle row. Evie took the left-hand seat, so that her blind eye was away from Mat. Damien winked at Mat as he stowed the bags. ‘So you can get to know your new friend,' he grinned conspiratorially.

They wound out of Takapuna, seeking the highway north. It was still only just after nine in the morning. The cars of morning shoppers and parents taking children to their sports fixtures were filling the roads. A wall of cloud was building in the North, but here blue skies held, as they wound their way back to the Northern motorway to take up the chase.

N
ORTHLAND
, S
ATURDAY AFTERNOON

D
onna relented and returned their cellphones. Evie texted her folks and then Carly, just . Then she switched off to avoid getting a call and tirade from Mum or Dad. Mat and Damien seemed to be doing much the same, although it took them longer — perhaps they had bigger friendship circles than she.

After that, silence descended. Evie watched the road a little, but she found her gaze constantly drawn back to Mat, little sidelong glances. Donna and Wiri were arguing in low voices in the front, and Damien seemed to be dozing, sprawled all the way across the back seat.

Mat met her eyes finally. ‘We were all going to the Green Day concert tonight in Wellington, but …' Mat's voice trailed off desultorily, then he shrugged. ‘This is more important.' He sounded nervous, speaking to her. She'd been dealing with the public for a couple of years now, and boys were nothing terribly new to her. She liked him, though, and felt a little
jittery, too. Already his good opinion mattered to her. He met her eyes again and asked: ‘So, what's the story with the tarot and stuff?'

She'd never told anyone about what she could see with her blind eye. No-one except Donna and her people. Mat, she realized, would understand it better than most people, and she was eager to hear his story, too.

So they talked and talked, heads leaning together, their faces large in the other's gaze, voices and glances intimate. She told him about how she could use zodiac and tarot and palm reading and rune stones separately or in unison, and how that would open up visions in her blind eye. He didn't scoff or look sceptical, but listened attentively and sympathetically.

She found his story fascinating. He talked about how he'd come to be a part of this strange subculture of weirdly gifted people. His voice held such a longing for this ‘Aotearoa' that she began to feel a real desire to go there with him. He told her of his and Wiri's role in the death of the tyrannical tohunga makutu Puarata, after harrowing chases and deadly confrontations in two worlds. It seemed too strange to believe, but she did. Her eye strayed to Donna Kyle. So she had been the lover of this Puarata? How revolting!

She leant towards Mat, and whispered. ‘Do you ever wonder: “Why us?” I mean, where does it come from? It can't be just genetic, because I swear my parents are rock-solid ordinary.'

Mat grinned. ‘Mine, too.'

Donna turned her head. ‘For some it is inherited, for others it is spontaneous,' she replied.

The thought that the witch had been listening to everything
they said gave Evie a sudden chill. She met Mat's eye, shook her head warningly and turned away. But she let her hand drift across, and gripped his. He squeezed it gently then let it go, before the adults saw, but the contact left her floating inside.

 

State Highway 1 took them north in broad multi-laned straights, then began to wind after a toll tunnel near Puhoi. The land undulated once they struck the craggy pine-covered heights of the Dome Forest, and the highway roared through Wellsford, Topuni and Kaiwaka, tiny townships that looked sleepy and quietly charming. After topping the Brynderwyn Hills, there were sea views on their right, and islands dotting the eastern horizon.

They lunched at the café in the tourist information bureau on the outskirts of Whangarei. The lawns were lush and green, and Damien joked speculatively about a big bronze statue that looked like an earlobe. Japanese tourists and other sightseers moved in packs, while the gulls descended on uncleared tables.

The trip had been slow, delayed by repeated stops in which Donna made Evie do readings to update their quarry's position. She did another at the picnic table outside the tourist bureau, though restraining her talents so that the cards wouldn't fly around and freak people out. The readings were consistent. The King and Jack of Spades cards kept drifting north, leading them on.

‘How will you cure my eye?' Evie found the courage to ask Donna, when they both found themselves in the restroom of the café. She peered at herself in the mirror, wondering if Mat
could see past the patch, and what he saw if he did.

‘You'll just have to see, won't you?' Donna replied coldly. ‘The boy is only fascinated by you because of your abilities,' she added cruelly. ‘When you no longer have your Gift, he'll lose interest.'

Evie glared at her, but Donna was not someone intimidated by teenage girls. She stalked away, leaving Evie alone in the restroom, wondering if what Donna had said was true. She reached up slowly, and removed the eyepatch. Beneath it, her milky orb looked bloated and ugly. She tried to picture her face with two good eyes, but she couldn't visualize it. She lifted her hand to her face, and blocked off the blind eye, but her imagination couldn't take it further.

Is she right? Will Mat forget me when I'm cured?

She replaced her patch and shuffled back to the others, her good spirits spoiled.

 

‘How're Venn and his lot travelling?' Damien, awake again, called from the back.

Wiri replied. ‘In theory they won't be able to travel in this world without running into police problems. But in Aotearoa, they will be ahead of the news. I'm guessing they'll have had transport standing by. I checked in before I joined you, and the police apparently almost nabbed them near a private airstrip, but lost them. I'm guessing at that point they will have gone to Aotearoa. They'll be a full day ahead of us, but travelling slower.'

‘Then we might overtake them?'

‘Perhaps. There are early motorcars in Aotearoa, and
Venn was a collector. He may have had something of the sort waiting for him as a contingency plan.'

Mat glanced at Evie. ‘Are you able to tell from your readings?'

She shook her head. ‘No. They're still north of us. That's all I can tell. But the runes are saying earth and fire when I ask about their transportation, which usually means a car.'

‘Cool,' he said softly.

She glowed, but couldn't help thinking:
Does he really only value my Gift?
She was beginning to dread the pain she would feel if that were the case.

 

Mat glared at his cellphone again. He'd been trying to ring Lena, to explain why he'd stood her up, but her phone didn't seem to be on. His guilt grew with every minute, even though it hadn't really been his fault.

The road ran past the low Mount Parakiore, an extinct volcano, and in the distance its cousin, Mount Hikurangi. It was dairy country, but timber and coal also fuelled the local economy. The traffic was sparse even on the main streets of the little towns that basked in the humid warmth. Evie's readings seemed to be leading them towards Paihia and Waitangi. It was only a couple of weeks since Waitangi Day, 6 February, and the commemoration of the signing of the treaty that had formally founded the nation. Cynics referred to it as ‘New Zealand's National Day of Protest', as it often turned into exactly that. It all reminded Mat of something that had been lurking at the back of his mind. ‘Wiri, that Captain Hobson I met in the gaol, he's the same guy who arranged the Treaty, right?'

Wiri nodded. ‘Lieutenant-Governor William Hobson. He was based in Australia for a while, and was made first governor of New Zealand, reporting to the Australian governor, hence the word “Lieutenant” in his rank.'

‘He was legless at the gaol,' Mat said. ‘No wonder the Treaty ended up causing so many fights.'

Wiri pulled a face. ‘Hobson was a navy man, not a lawyer or an administrator, which was what was needed in the new colony. Legal documents weren't something he had much experience of, or treaties. Afterwards he had a stroke and pretty much lost control of the situation.'

‘Maybe that was the drinking?'

Wiri shook his head. ‘The real Hobson had contracted yellow fever in the Caribbean. That was the root cause of his stroke, and the later one that killed him. The drinking is something his incarnation in Aotearoa has developed. He is not fondly remembered here.'

‘Governor Grey doesn't rate him,' Mat noted.

‘Sounds like a loser,' Damien called from the back.

Wiri gave a little shake of the head. ‘I'm told he was an able enough naval man. He fought pirates in the Caribbean, and was involved in the Napoleonic Wars. This country never saw that side of him.'

‘You're a sentimentalist, Wiremu,' Donna Kyle said sourly. ‘Hobson is a fool, and Puarata held him in contempt.' Her tone suggested she did, too. ‘Anyway, we are coming to the fringes of the Bay of Islands. There is a place where we can walk through into Aotearoa near Waitangi. After that, we may need horses.' She twisted her head. ‘Do you
children
ride?'

‘I do,' said Everalda.

‘Girls,' Damien grinned. ‘They all go through a “My Little Pony” phase.'

Evie turned her head and poked her tongue at him.

‘So you boys have never ridden a horse?' Wiri asked.

‘Er … actually I have,' Damien said, grinning mischievously. ‘I was raised on a farm.'

‘So you had a “My Little Pony” phase as well,' Mat threw in, making Evie laugh aloud. She'd not laughed the whole journey. It sounded lovely to his ears, tinkling and musical. ‘So I guess it'll just be me slowing us down.'

‘It's not that hard,' Everalda told him. ‘You'll be fine.'

‘Maybe you two could double up,' said Damien slyly.

Mat looked quickly out the window to hide the way his cheeks went pink at the thought.

 

At Kawakawa, Wiri took them onto Highway 11, winding north east towards Opua and the coast. ‘The earliest European settlement was in these parts,' he told them all. ‘Whalers, traders, missionaries. Opua was originally called Newport by the settlers, and still bears that name in Aotearoa. The French were here, and many Americans, too. All trying to trump the English and gain control. Okiato was the first capital of New Zealand — although Hobson renamed it Russell in honour of Sir John Russell, the Secretary of State for the Colonies. The place now known as Russell was named Kororareka back then. The Hellhole of the Pacific, they called it. A lawless den of vice.'

‘Cool!' said Damien. ‘We should check it out.'

‘I'm hopeful that we won't go anywhere near it,' Wiri replied, with a wry smile. ‘It's the sort of hellhole where “hole” is the operative word. Or it was then. Modern Russell is pretty, but in Aotearoa it's a dangerous place.'

‘It is probably where Venn is heading,' Donna interrupted. ‘Puarata had contacts there, and so did Father.'

They followed the coast north from Opua, passing through the coastal settlement of Paihia, a tourist town on Te Ti Bay, the leaping-off point for ferries to Russell and cruises in the Bay of Islands. The sky had cleared as they drove north, and the afternoon sun glittered on rippling waters of deep blue. Gulls called and boats plied the waters. The air was warm and damp, but carried a rich sea-freshness with it, a tang of salt that was cleansing and invigorating.

They passed rows of pohutukawa lining the narrow beach, and pulled into a car park on the shore side, opposite the shops. Mat and Damien leant against the car and watched Donna and Everalda walking towards the public toilets beside a tourist booking centre; Donna was nagging at Evie about something in low, urgent tones.

‘So?' Damien nudged Mat. ‘What do you think?'

‘About?'

‘Your new girlfriend, dork!'

Mat looked down. ‘I dunno,' he shrugged, not really wanting to have this conversation.

‘You want my opinion?'

‘No.'

‘Well, anyway … I reckon she's great. Not as hot as Lena, but five times nicer. And much more your sort than Cassandra.'

Mat put his finger to his lips. ‘The answer is: “No, I don't want your opinion.”'

Damien just rolled right on. ‘Once we're through this, you need to stay in with her, man. She's your kind of girl. Spooky, serious. Like you.'

Is that how people see me?

‘I mean,' Damien continued blithely, ‘you and Cass: that was never going to happen, man. Chicks like Cass go for guys who make them laugh. You're not exactly Billy Connolly.'

‘Thanks.'

‘Whereas Evie, she wants someone she can trust and relate to. She's smitten, man. Totally.'

Mat coloured further. ‘You think?'

‘Absolutely!'

‘When did you become an expert, Mr Desperate and Dateless?'

Damien chuckled. ‘Other people's issues are so much easier to pinpoint, mate.' He scratched his ear. ‘Currently I'm into Asian chicks. But they aren't into me. It's a problem.'

Wiri, who'd been peering across the waters towards Russell, rejoined them. He indicated the bay with a sweep of the hands. ‘This, more than anywhere else, represents the beginnings of modern New Zealand. The first missionaries built their houses on this strip of land behind us. Henry Williams had his printing press here, churning out pamphlets and prayer books. And across the waters in Russell, the whaling ships used to take on water and provender. The Maori girls would paddle out to the ships. Guns were the big trade item. Muskets for sex. The tribes depended for their survival on getting guns before their rivals did.'

Mat grimaced. It sounded sordid and nasty, not at all the proud history he would rather hear.

Wiri pointed to the north, where a tall flagstaff hung above a low, green headland. A huge New Zealand flag fluttered in the breeze. ‘And that is Waitangi, where the official British Resident, James Busby, had his house. The beach below is where Hobson came ashore in 1840, summoned the Maori tribes, and gained the first signatures on the Treaty of Waitangi. Official British governance began there.'

‘What is this area like on the Aotearoa side?' Damien asked.