The Shattering (12 page)

Aroha seemed to be allergic to silence, especially charged silence between two people smiling at each other. ‘So!' she said, a little too brightly. ‘What are you planning for uni, Janna?'

She was obviously just making conversation, and Janna tried not to grimace at the topic. ‘What about you?' she countered.

‘Engineering,' Aroha said promptly. ‘And you? Music, maybe? Commerce?'

Janna shrugged. ‘I don't want to go.'

Aroha probably didn't mean to sound so shocked. ‘You don't want to go to
uni
?' she asked, and Janna realised that she was one of
those
people, the ones for whom university was guaranteed, probably for a couple of generations. The ones who went to private schools and got music lessons and tutoring and had no idea how lucky they were. Aroha hadn't had to babysit every brat in Summerton for years to buy an old car and a secondhand bass; her parents probably just
gave
her anything she wanted.

‘Not everyone goes,' Janna said. ‘
Most
people don't.'

‘But you're —' Aroha said, and bit her lip. ‘I mean, you seem really smart.'

Janna felt her hands twisting at her corset hem. ‘Well, I'm not. I suck hard at everything in school except Music and Drama, and I screw up the writing assignments there. I
probably
have a learning disability, actually.' This wasn't nice. Aroha hadn't meant to hit one of Janna's sore points. But Janna could feel the anger crackle off her skin, and now Takeshi knew she was
stupid
.

‘Janna is going to play the bass,' Takeshi said, and squeezed her shoulder. ‘She is very good.'

Janna felt her anger leeching away into the warm patch where his hand rested. She untangled her hands from her corset and tried to smile. ‘I mean, I'll probably end up being a waitress who plays on the weekends, but I'm going to give it a shot.'

But she didn't believe that, not really. Someone had to make it, and it was going to be her.

‘I'm really looking forward to hearing you at the Beach Bash,' Aroha said quickly. ‘Oh, and I forgot, Dad got us this for tonight.' She opened her bag to show them a bottle of wine and then closed it again. ‘It's an apology for the car crash.' She shuddered. ‘That was so weird. I was looking straight ahead, and I didn't even see you until after we hit.'

‘Probably the shock. Say thanks to your dad for me,' Janna said, deciding to forgive her. ‘How about you, Takeshi? Are you going to uni?'

Takeshi ducked his head.‘I will do a bachelor of science degree.'

Aroha laughed. ‘And then a master's degree, and a PhD at the International Space University, and then —'

‘I want to be an astronaut,' Takeshi said soft ly. ‘I want to be a mission specialist.'

He was looking right at Janna when he said it, and she felt that drumbeat hammer at her heart again. Cute, sweet, smart, and
ambitious.
Someone like her, with an impossible dream, as driven as she was.

Then he deliberately banked the fire in his eyes and looked humble and apologetic. ‘It's very difficult. jaxa chooses only a few people to be international astronauts. But I will try.'

‘You'll succeed,' she said firmly, and saw pleasure and surprise flicker across his face. Didn't people tell him that?

‘I need to speak perfect English,' he said. ‘That's why this exchange, it is good.'

‘How long have you wanted this?'

‘From the time when I was six.' He shrugged. ‘People laugh at me. They think it's too much. Too big dream.'

‘No, not too big,' Janna said, and took his hand. His fingers were muscular and dry and fitted neatly into hers. They both had strong hands, too. ‘My brother wanted to go to space,' she said, mostly to herself. Her mum had got pregnant at the same age Janna was now and married seven months before Schuyler was born. Schuyler had been pretty good about having to entertain his much younger sisters, usually with hours of playing school. Long before Janna could read, she'd known the names of the planets and the details of rocket propulsion.

‘I'll just . . . I'll just go get this opened,' Aroha said. ‘Borrow some cups from the table. Might talk to a few people. That's Ainsley — I met her last year; she's great.'

Aroha was trying to give them alone time. That was so sweet, and incredibly inconvenient.

Janna wavered. She could wander off with Takeshi right now, explore him and his dreams and the night full of stars.

Or she could work toward avenging her brother, who would never go into space.

She squeezed Takeshi's hand one more time and moved forward, toward Aroha and the table and the guys clustered around one edge. ‘Here,' she said to Aroha, but tipping one of the guys a smile that would encourage him to talk. ‘Let me help.'

The night was a total bust.

Guys talked to her, no probs, but bringing the conversation around to family and how long they were staying got really obvious, really fast. And to make matters even worse, Patrick found her and started on band business without even saying hi, right in the middle of a conversation.

‘I signed the contract,' he said, picking up a bottle of beer and scowling at it. ‘Gave it to Tiberius just now. That guy's a skeeze.'

‘Mmm,' Janna said, turning away from him. ‘Sam, you were saying that you're going to be here until the twenty-ninth? Not for New Year?'

‘I'm going back to Nelson for New Year,' Sam explained, and was probably very disappointed when Janna nodded, turned back to Patrick, and drift ed down the beach with him.

‘I thought you already had a summer hookup,' he said. ‘Why all the chitchat?'

‘I'm trying to make sure people stay for our set at the Beach Bash,' she improvised.

‘Oh, yeah, good thinking. I've been planning some publicity. Our names aren't on the posters; they got printed before the lineup change.'

‘The Beach Bash
is
publicity for Vikings.'

‘We could put flyers up,' he said. ‘Talk to local businesses. My cousin Xiao-Xiao has a show at Radio Greymouth, and she said she'll do an interview, and Mum said I can have the car to drive us down . . .'

Janna could just imagine what Sione and Keri would think of her taking a day off the killer hunt for a publicity road trip. ‘I'm busy. Can't we do it by phone?'

‘Studio is better. This is important,' Patrick said. He sounded surprised at having to remind her; he and Janna had always been the ones who really cared, who made the others turn up and practise long after they were bored.

‘You've scheduled four practices over the next week, Patrick. Kyle or Hemi can do it.'

‘They work all day; they don't have time for the drive. And you're better at this stuff anyway.'

‘I'm doing things, too, you know.'

Takeshi and Aroha were staring out at the sea, caught in the Summerton Effect. Patrick shot them a look. ‘Right,' he said sceptically. ‘Get serious, Janna. You know that's not going to last past New Year. Vikings needs you to —'

And he was
right
. Janna knew he was right, but it hurt to hear it. She turned on him. ‘Shut up.' He opened his mouth, and she stuck her finger in his face, glad that she was just that extra inch taller than him. ‘No, shut
up
! I turn up to practice, I work my ass off for this group! Don't you question my commitment!'

‘I thought you wanted to get out of Summerton,' Patrick snapped.

‘I do!'

‘Yeah? Look at Cara Wells. She was
so
close, Janna. She had that pop-opera thing totally working for her, she did a couple of tv appearances, she was all lined up for a big career, and then what did she do? She gave up and came straight back to this stupid town for no reason at all.' He made a scornful face. ‘ “Oh, I was so homesick!” Yeah, right. She couldn't hack it. And now she sells popcorn at the movies. It takes more than talent; it takes drive! You
need
commitment all the time, not just when it suits you.'

Janna felt something turn over in her stomach. She'd always thought Cara's failure had been her own fault, too. But Keri had that theory, and Sione said the numbers backed her up.

No one moves into Summerton. No one leaves.

She twisted to look at Aroha and Takeshi, still staring at the bonfire light reflecting on the water. In the shift ing light of the flames, their faces were placid and calm.

Like cows lined up for slaughter waiting for the stun gun.

It wasn't natural, the Summerton Effect. It wasn't right.

‘Magic,' she muttered.

‘You've
got
magic,' Patrick said impatiently. ‘We all know that. You light up a stage. What I'm talking about is —'

‘Yeah, shut up,' she said absently. Patrick sighed in loud disgust and took off, probably to harass Hemi and Kyle.

Summerton was a
perfect
town. Always sunny, always safe, always the same. No one moved into Summerton. No one left . And Sione could say what he liked about irrelevant patterns, but it
was
a pattern.

She nearly laughed at herself. A spell to keep a whole town perfect — that would be some
serious
magic, with a lot of skill and power behind it. But the blankness in the tourists' faces — the dumbstruck awe that she'd always made fun of — didn't seem so hilarious anymore.

She wouldn't mention it to Sione and Keri — not just yet. They'd only laugh at dumb Janna with her wacky beliefs and stupid ideas.

She started to make her way back to the table, planning to dump her bottle and touch base with Takeshi before she went after the next guy. But as she walked, she nearly stumbled over a woman sitting in the lee of a piece of drift wood.

‘Crap, sorry,' Janna said, and then, recognising her, ‘Oh, hi, Sandra-Claire.'

‘Hi, Janna,' the blonde woman said without much enthusiasm. ‘How's it going? I hear you're hanging out with Keri again.'

The Summerton grapevine at work. ‘Yeah, she's good times.'

‘She's a bitch,' Sandra-Claire said, again without any particular emotion. ‘A little bitchy control freak who thinks she's got everything all worked out and won't let anyone tell her different without throwing a fit.' Her lips twisted. ‘Jake dying didn't fit her
plans
, did it?'

‘Are you feeling okay?'

‘What do you fucking think? And the dwarf doesn't make anything easier.'

Janna recognised the way Sandra-Claire tilted her head and squinted for focus; she'd done it oft en enough herself. ‘You're drunk.'

‘Not drunk enough.' Sandra-Claire pushed herself up unsteadily. ‘Drop by the shop sometime after Christmas; there's new stuff in that you might like. But don't bring your little friend.'

The magic shop, where Sandra-Claire assisted Daisy Hepwood. Where there might be explanations for
unnatural
things.

‘Yeah, okay,' Janna said. ‘I think I will.'

CHAPTER TEN

KERI

Being acid-burning angry tires you out.

When my alarm went off, I jerked awake, immediately aware I hadn't met Sione and Janna for the beach party.

I'd completely screwed up the plan. Heartbeat jolted into full speed, I rolled out of bed, reaching for the bag hanging off the door handle and the mobile phone inside it. I'd call them, explain, hear what they had to report. We'd set a new time to reconvene. It was okay. We still had time.

The new plan fell apart when I took my first step toward the door.

In the night, Jake's T-shirt had fallen out of the bed, to lie in wait for my shuffling morning feet. It tangled around my ankles. I should have been able to catch myself easily, but the world tipped around me, my balance completely off, and I fell, feet together, arms wide. I turned, trying to tuck in my arms and take the impact on my shoulder. Too slow, too late. My fingers caught on the carpet, twisting me even more off balance. All my weight crashed onto the outside point of my left wrist.

I heard the wet crack before I felt anything. Nauseating waves of heat and cold spread up my arm and down my whole crumpled body. Only after that was the pain.

I moaned, the first sound I'd voiced, and instinctively curled around the hurt. That small motion set off new earthquakes of agony, aftershocks shuddering through me until I could force myself still. It took a moment to adjust to this new reality. How could this have happened? How could my own body have betrayed me like this?

‘Okay,' I said, panting. I was cold all over now, except for the burn in my arm, yet I could feel sweat prickling at my spine. ‘Okay, you know what to do.'

I called out for Mum first, knowing that it was useless — the house was quiet, and she hadn't investigated the thudding impact of my body on the floor. I had to get myself up, then, thinking every motion through slowly and carefully as I rolled onto my knees, pushing myself up with the good hand — the right, thank God. My cheek was stinging now, too, and there was a red rash from the carpet on my knee. ‘Good girl,' I told myself when I was upright, left wrist cradled across my body. I could hardly stand to look at it, the wrongness of the angle, the puffy redness around the bony knob at the side. The first-aid kit under my bed was well stocked, but I couldn't do anything about this by myself. This wasn't the greenstick fracture I'd had when I was seven.