Read Online Coiled Snake (The Windstorm Series Book 2) by Katie Robison - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Katie Robison
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origins—returned to the islands.
“Ask any historian,” he continues in the formal voice he uses when he talks about tribal matters. “They’ll tell you that New Zealand has one of the shortest human histories. The first Polynesian settlers didn’t arrive until the twelfth or thirteenth century. What they don’t know is that we windwalkers were here before that, and our ancestors intermingled with the humans, the Māori, teaching them. That’s why there’s such a strong similarity in our language, customs, and weapons. Even Māori stories reveal a distant memory of windwalking. For example, they say that the winds are gods, all part of a large family.
“And remember the figure of Māui on the meetinghouse?” he asks. “The Māori say that he came from Rangiātea, our ancient homeland, and that all Māori who journeyed to Aotearoa came from there too. When we die, that’s where we return.”
“Is that true?” I ask.
“Almost. We did come from Rangiātea, the land in the sky, but like I said, the Māori left Aotearoa for a time, along with everyone else, and then came back home where we windwalkers welcomed them.”
“So you’re saying the Rangi didn’t want to leave New Zealand? They didn’t start a war to gain more territory?”
“What? Where do you come up with these ideas? No, the other tribes waged war on us . We lived on the sacred island, and they wanted it. There’s power here, in the land. We can craft talismans that allow us to use the wind—like hiri and staying stones and wind charms—while they have to make do with technology. Remember the patu and knife I showed you?”
I nod.
“They’re made from pounamu . Greenstone. New Zealand jade. Sacred boulders found only in the South Island. They enhance our connection with the world around us.”
“If you love this land so much, why were you in Yakone territory?”
His face grows hard. “Because they wiped out one of our villages. We wanted to strike at their center and prevent future attacks, but we failed. I’ll tell you something though: we won’t fail again. We will have vengeance.”
I stare out the window and bite the inside of my cheek. Could it be true? Had the Yakone attacked first? For everything Rye told me, Miri and Paika have an opposite story. Whose version is right?
Regardless of the truth, I realize I can never let Paika or anyone else find out what really happened at the fortress. If they were to know I was the one who removed the bombs …
“Tell you what,” Paika says. “I think it’s time for a little reward.” He pulls the car onto a turnout and shuts off the engine. “Come with me,” he says.
I follow him out of the car and into the forest. The plants and trees are even thicker than they appeared from the road, and the spiky shrubs scratch my skin, but Paika doesn’t slow down, so I don’t either. We climb uphill. It’s hard work, and I’m grateful for the breeze that cools the sweat on my forehead.
After a good thirty minutes of climbing, the ground levels out a bit. We follow a shallow stream upriver, stepping on the soft moss and ferns until we reach a clearing surrounded by tall trees.
“Scurry up a tree and make sure no one’s about,” Paika says.
“Are you serious?”
“Consider it part of your training. Go on!”
Shaking my head, I look for a good climbing tree and then pull myself up onto its branches, moving at a steady pace. When I get above the neighboring leaves, I let out a gasp. The view is incredible. Trees for as far as I can see, backed by the stately mountains shrouded in mist, an island above an island. And down below me, the azure ocean melts into the sky.
It is beautiful, I think.
“See anyone?” Paika calls.
“Not a soul.”
“Right, come on down.”
“Are you planning to murder me?” I ask, when I land back on the soft forest floor.
“Depends,” he grins. “Can you defend yourself?” He throws a patu at my chest and then, without warning, jumps
“Ask any historian,” he continues in the formal voice he uses when he talks about tribal matters. “They’ll tell you that New Zealand has one of the shortest human histories. The first Polynesian settlers didn’t arrive until the twelfth or thirteenth century. What they don’t know is that we windwalkers were here before that, and our ancestors intermingled with the humans, the Māori, teaching them. That’s why there’s such a strong similarity in our language, customs, and weapons. Even Māori stories reveal a distant memory of windwalking. For example, they say that the winds are gods, all part of a large family.
“And remember the figure of Māui on the meetinghouse?” he asks. “The Māori say that he came from Rangiātea, our ancient homeland, and that all Māori who journeyed to Aotearoa came from there too. When we die, that’s where we return.”
“Is that true?” I ask.
“Almost. We did come from Rangiātea, the land in the sky, but like I said, the Māori left Aotearoa for a time, along with everyone else, and then came back home where we windwalkers welcomed them.”
“So you’re saying the Rangi didn’t want to leave New Zealand? They didn’t start a war to gain more territory?”
“What? Where do you come up with these ideas? No, the other tribes waged war on us . We lived on the sacred island, and they wanted it. There’s power here, in the land. We can craft talismans that allow us to use the wind—like hiri and staying stones and wind charms—while they have to make do with technology. Remember the patu and knife I showed you?”
I nod.
“They’re made from pounamu . Greenstone. New Zealand jade. Sacred boulders found only in the South Island. They enhance our connection with the world around us.”
“If you love this land so much, why were you in Yakone territory?”
His face grows hard. “Because they wiped out one of our villages. We wanted to strike at their center and prevent future attacks, but we failed. I’ll tell you something though: we won’t fail again. We will have vengeance.”
I stare out the window and bite the inside of my cheek. Could it be true? Had the Yakone attacked first? For everything Rye told me, Miri and Paika have an opposite story. Whose version is right?
Regardless of the truth, I realize I can never let Paika or anyone else find out what really happened at the fortress. If they were to know I was the one who removed the bombs …
“Tell you what,” Paika says. “I think it’s time for a little reward.” He pulls the car onto a turnout and shuts off the engine. “Come with me,” he says.
I follow him out of the car and into the forest. The plants and trees are even thicker than they appeared from the road, and the spiky shrubs scratch my skin, but Paika doesn’t slow down, so I don’t either. We climb uphill. It’s hard work, and I’m grateful for the breeze that cools the sweat on my forehead.
After a good thirty minutes of climbing, the ground levels out a bit. We follow a shallow stream upriver, stepping on the soft moss and ferns until we reach a clearing surrounded by tall trees.
“Scurry up a tree and make sure no one’s about,” Paika says.
“Are you serious?”
“Consider it part of your training. Go on!”
Shaking my head, I look for a good climbing tree and then pull myself up onto its branches, moving at a steady pace. When I get above the neighboring leaves, I let out a gasp. The view is incredible. Trees for as far as I can see, backed by the stately mountains shrouded in mist, an island above an island. And down below me, the azure ocean melts into the sky.
It is beautiful, I think.
“See anyone?” Paika calls.
“Not a soul.”
“Right, come on down.”
“Are you planning to murder me?” I ask, when I land back on the soft forest floor.
“Depends,” he grins. “Can you defend yourself?” He throws a patu at my chest and then, without warning, jumps
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