The Shattering (19 page)

Now that I was paying attention, I could feel it, the way my body weight shifted as I went through my front door, tipping off centre, as if the world were swaying around me. I slowed down. Now was not the time to have another inexplicable —
hah!
— fit of clumsiness.

‘Hey, kid,' Dad said as I did a careful robot walk past him in the hall, Sione in my wake.

‘Forgot something,' I said.

I got even less sure-footed as I got into my bedroom, fingers slipping on the doorknob, feet trying to tangle as I walked slowly across the threshold. More confirmation for my theory. My blank shock was being slowly erased by the intense anger simmering in my gut. They'd broken my arm. They could have
killed
me.

Like they'd killed Jake.

I went cold all over.

Things went blank for a while. The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the bed. I couldn't remember how I'd got there, but Sione was crouching at my feet, holding my hand, and whispering, ‘Keri? Keri, what's wrong? Should I get your dad?'

I had the feeling he was repeating himself. It felt like the same sort of blackout I'd had about finding Jake, and that scared me enough that I managed to make words.

‘I'm too clumsy,' I said. ‘But only in here.' That was about the best I could manage, but Sione got it right away, and even through my shock I realised again how smart he was. He let go of my hand and started tearing the room apart.

It was much faster than at Rafferty's house, where he'd been so careful and methodical I'd wanted to scream. Now he just went through everything — under the bed, in the bookshelf, rifling through my underwear drawer with a focused expression that had nothing to do with my plain cotton undies. I sat on the bed and concentrated on breathing. The air felt thicker around me; it could have been my imagination, but I thought the ground was just waiting for me to fall again. Lying down on the bed might have been safer, but I wasn't going to give in that much.

He found it in one of the desk drawers, stuffed into a pile of old essays, a little clay figure just like his. Shorter, though, and a thinner face, and straight hair, and the tiny clay features were mine.

‘Break it,' I said, and he dropped it on the floor and lifted his foot.

‘No!' I said, too loud, and he paused. I wanted proof. ‘Just . . . snap it. If that doesn't work, we'll try smashing.'

He nodded. Brown hands clenching, he broke the figurine cleanly in half.

The air cleared like a strong wind blowing off a fog. I gasped and stood up, as well-balanced as ever. My body relaxed back into itself, and I realised just how bad that curse had been, to take away what I'd always had, the sureness of myself and my limits.

And it made sense that they'd attacked Sione through his sense of himself, too, bringing Luke to strike at his uncertainties about himself, his place in the world. That was nasty; a really vicious brain had come up with that.

I took the pieces from his hand. Close up, I could see the little clay ropes looped around the arms and legs, the bits that had tipped me over, wrecked my body. The Maukis brothers must have made the statues — that made sense, if they were already involved by making this Summer King crown. And Rafferty was tied up in it somehow, the phone call proved that. But whom had he been talking to on the phone? The Maukises had deep, oily voices — I was pretty sure the person on the other end of that conversation had been female. Four of them altogether.

‘Someone had to have put it in my bag,' Sione said, obviously thinking along the same lines as I was. ‘The only time I left it was when we all went out for lunch, that second day. When Kirk Davidson kicked us out of the room. He could have told them when I left the hotel.'

Five, then. The four men and an unknown woman.

Doing
magic
.

‘I cannot believe this shit,' I said, even though I clearly could. There wasn't much point in denying direct evidence; that was the principle I was banking on as I slid the two halves of little me into a plastic bag.

‘We should warn Janna,' Sione said. ‘And tell her she's right.'

‘Sure,' I said, and handed him my phone, leaving the actual admitting-we-were-wrong part to him.

Now that the shock was wearing off, I felt unsteady in a different way. The world shouldn't work like this; that was why I made plans, to be ready for every eventuality. Adding the impossible to the things I had to be prepared for was really unfair.

Janna apparently had her phone switched off. Sione left a message and looked at me.

‘Magic,' he said. ‘Uh, can't say I did any research in that direction. Do you know much about it?'

‘Hardly.' I snorted and sat up straight. ‘Wait, though. I know someone who knows a
lot
. I'm sure she can help.'

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

JANNA

Janna was wondering how she'd ever thought Patrick Tan was
hot enough to go out with for nearly a whole year.
God! He was so
stubborn
.

‘All you have to do,' she explained again, through a smile that was trying not to be gritted teeth, ‘is distract whichever Maukis is there for about five minutes. Come on, Patrick, it's not hard.'

‘I know it's not hard,' Patrick said. ‘I just can't figure out any reason why I should do it. In fact, I can't figure out why you even want it done.'

‘I'm flighty,' Janna suggested. ‘I'm full of wacky rebellious teen girl ideas.'

He pushed back his straight black fringe, a gesture that had once made her want to kiss him until their lips buzzed but now made her want to get a really good grip and
yank
. ‘I'll trade you a favour for a favour.'

She relaxed her fists. ‘What do you want?'

‘You do that radio interview.'

‘No,' she said flatly.

‘Okay,' he shrugged, and made as if to get up.

She grabbed his wrist across the shiny red table, holding him before he could walk out of Mimi's Muffins. ‘
Wait
. Okay, I'll do it.'

‘Huh. You do want this bad.' He hesitated. ‘You're not planning to rob them or anything, are you? Because these guys are the ones who hired us.'

‘I'm not that dumb,' she snarled.

‘I never thought you were dumb,' Patrick said quietly, and for a second she remembered why she'd liked him. Under all the sarcasm and control-freakery, he could be loyal. And even nice, on occasion. ‘Are you in some kind of trouble?'

‘Of course not,' she lied, and then surprised herself by hugging him hard. ‘Thank you so much.'

‘No problem,' he muttered, and then froze. ‘Uh . . .'

Janna stepped away and twisted, and met Takeshi's eyes through the café window.

The worst thing was that she hadn't done anything wrong. But she couldn't help feeling guilty, and she felt it show on her face.

Takeshi saw the guilt, flinched, and walked on.

Janna went for the door. A gaggle of tourists came in at that second, and by the time she'd fought her way through and scanned the street, there were no tall Japanese boys in sight. ‘Oh,
crap
!'

‘You forgot this,' Patrick said behind her. He was holding her bag.

‘Thanks,' Janna said, and yanked it away.

‘Do you want to go after him?' Patrick asked. His face was carefully neutral.

‘Yes,' Janna said, and sighed. ‘But no. I'll make up with him later. Let's get this done.'

What Janna had privately nicknamed Operation Enemy Territory started out well. Janna lurked in the library by the alleyway door, pretending to browse the magazine racks, until Patrick's text buzzed the phone in her hand. She switched it off and slipped through the alley door, across the tiny gap, and into the art gallery. It was silent and seemed unoccupied, but as she crept up the stairs she heard people talking in the big room at the top.

When she bent low to the steps and peeked around the corner, though, there were only tourists gazing at the colourful abstracts. The office door was partially closed, Patrick's black-jacketed back to the gap. He was blocking the view the Maukises would have of her — good.

Janna stood up, took two steps into the room, and froze.

The stone plinth was empty. The Pride of Summerton was gone.

‘Looking for something?' Octavian Maukis said in her ear, and Janna nearly tumbled back down the stairs. He caught her, grunting at the impact.

Janna strained to get her balance back and whipped around, her mind working frantically. How much did he know about what she knew?

‘Where's the crown?' she asked.

‘Taken away for cleaning,' he said, his eyes mocking her. ‘I didn't know you were such a fan.'

‘Takeshi really liked it,' she said, and straightened up. Stardust wouldn't let this middle-aged man frighten her. Oh, but Janna was scared.
Play stupid
, she thought. ‘So I thought — it's pretty dumb.' From somewhere, she managed to pull a giggle, high-pitched and scatty.

Octavian blinked. ‘Thought what?'

‘I thought maybe I could make him something like it. Not in glass,
obviously
, I could never do that, but maybe if I like
bought
a crown and glued some stones on — they have some really pretty crystals at Inner Light, or maybe even sea glass if I can afford it — I could like
pretend
. I was going to take some pictures. So I could copy it.' She pulled her phone out and waved it in his face, then stuck it back in her jacket pocket, hoping he hadn't noticed it was turned off.

‘You should have asked,' he said after a moment.

She gave him her best Stardust smile. ‘But then you might have said no.'

He laughed and, for the first time, did his standard cleavage inspection. ‘Well, tell you what. When the Pride comes back, you can take as many photos as you like. I'll even tell you about the creation process.'

‘That would be the
best
!' Janna said. ‘When's that?'

His eyes flashed back to her face. She kept her smile shining, bright and stupid. ‘after New Year.'

She made panic into pouting disappointment. ‘Oh,
no
! Takeshi leaves on New Year's Day.'

‘That's a shame. But you could send it to him.' Was that the shadow of a smirk? ‘Afterward.'

‘I guess so!' she said, trying not to wrap her hands around his throat and squeeze.

‘You're welcome, Janna. I look forward to seeing you at the Bash.'

‘Thanks!' she said, and clattered past him down the stairs. A big hand brushed her back as she went, not quite low enough to be something she could snap about. Oh, the Maukises were so good at walking those lines. She'd been much happier when she thought they were
only
sleazebuckets.

Okay. Okay, so at least she'd nearly confirmed that it had to
be
the crown. If she could only find it before the ceremony, she might have a better idea of what to do. Hands twitching at her clothes, she waited in the street outside until Patrick loped down. After this, she had to go get that protection spell, but she could at least thank him first.

‘Did you get what you came for?' he asked.

‘Not exactly. Did you see The Pride of Summerton in the office?'

‘No, just some paintings and a couple of half-finished statue things. What do you want with the crown, Janna?'

She told him the same story she'd told Octavian, but Patrick was much less likely to be distracted by teeth-baring smiles and perky bouncing. ‘Yeah, right,' he said. ‘Like you've ever done crafty stuff. You don't even take Food and Fabric Technology.'

‘Takeshi is making a new woman of me,' she said sweetly.

‘I hope not,' he said, and then scratched the side of his face. ‘Okay, whatever. I'll pick you up for the interview. Practice after.'

She spotted Aroha first, her hair shining in the sunlight, and then Takeshi walking behind her. Takeshi's head was down, Aroha tossing some statement at him over her shoulder. ‘Yeah, fine,' she said.

Patrick followed her eyes. ‘Good luck,' he said quietly, and took off.

Janna took her courage, screwed it up to nine, and went for an interception course.

‘Hi!' she said.

‘Oh, good, there you are,' Aroha said. ‘Recovered from the food poisoning? Good! I'm off to do a thing with some stuff in the place. You two have fun!' And she flicked her curls, turned on one sandaled heel, and marched into the nearest shop, bell jangling cheerily in her wake.

Janna felt as if she should have been taking notes on how to pull off an exit, but she was too busy trying to catch Takeshi's eye.

‘Hi,' she said again, more shyly. Her stomach was doing yucky swooping things. She had to stay close to him to protect him, of course. She hadn't planned on caring this much.

‘Aroha says I am stupid,' Takeshi said. ‘Patrick is not your boyfriend?'

‘No. He's a friend, and he was doing me a favour, that's all. I hugged him to say thank you.'

‘Oh.' He didn't look reassured. ‘You have many friends.'

All of that damn boy-scouting on the beach. ‘Yes. But
just
friends.'

‘I think that' — his face creased in frustration — ‘I
thought
that you maybe don't like me. It's okay.

But I will like to know, please.' ‘I like you,' she assured him.

He looked her properly in the eye and smiled, and Janna felt as if she'd been hit by the Summerton Effect herself, unable to look away. ‘I like you, too,' he said.

‘But you're going away,' she said, and bit her lip. She hadn't meant that to escape, especially not sounding so
plaintive
.

But he looked as sad as she felt. ‘Yes. I go to Auckland in six days. Hiroshima in six months.' He hesitated. ‘I'm here now.'

‘Yes,' Janna said.
Harden up
,
girl!
she ordered herself, and put her arms around his neck. He took a step closer, his eyes glinting.
Embrace the summer
, she thought.
Embrace the guy.
That was the Stardust motto.