Read Online Coiled Snake (The Windstorm Series Book 2) by Katie Robison - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Katie Robison
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into the air and catches the wind. Whirling quickly, he pulls out his own patu and dives straight for my throat.
The sight paralyzes me for a heartbeat, but I recover and meet his attack just in time. He spins away and dives again; this time I catch my own air current and leap out of the way.
“The trick to fighting while windwalking,” Paika instructs, “is to watch the wind currents and figure out the possible paths your opponent can take.” He flips through the air and cuts me off, swinging at me with his club. “Like that.”
I knock his blow away, but it throws me off balance, and I almost hit a tree.
“The other trick is to not lose honga ,” he laughs.
“Gee, thanks,” I yell. I call to the wind, feel it surge through me, and then I drop to a lower current and flip behind Paika. I seize his hair, and put the patu to his throat.
Before I can claim the win, he spins quickly and kicks my foot up. But my bond is stronger now, so I don’t lose the connection again. Instead, I rotate sideways and slash at him with the edge of the club.
“Cracker!” Paika says.
We continue to parry, and I lose all sense of time. Feeling the wind buzz in my chest, sailing through the air, watching my hard work pay off, it’s the best I’ve felt since I came here.
Finally, Paika calls it quits, and we return to the ground and trek back to the car.
“Thanks,” I say. “That was a reward.”
“You’ve earned it, girl,” he says. “I’ve never seen anyone learn as quickly as you have. Though I honestly didn’t expect you to be able to windwalk.”
“I learned from a Yakone,” I say, watching him sideways.
“Is this the same dag who told you all that rubbish about us?” Paika asks.
“Yes.”
He puffs up his cheeks and exhales slowly. “Well, he taught you well. I’ll give him that much. Those Yakone are fighters.”
“Yes,” I say again. But the rest of the way home, all I can think about is how much Rye hated being a warrior.
It’s mid-afternoon when we get back to Okarito, just enough time to do the chores Miri has consistently assigned us since Paika arrived.
When the sun sets, Miri returns home with some trout. “Decided to go inland today,” she says. She turns toward me and then asks sharply, “What have you two been doing?” She’s looking at my neck, and I suddenly realize I forgot to put the staying stone back on.
“Went to a marae ,” Paika answers pleasantly.
Miri raises an eyebrow. “Bruce Bay?” she asks.
He nods.
“You put petrol in my tank?”
“Not yet,” he says evasively. “Didn’t pass a station. But I will, love. No worries.”
“Hm. Yes, well, you and I are going to have a few words about that later, Paika. So what did you think?” Miri asks, turning to me.
I shrug. “It was cool.”
Paika coughs.
“There was singing,” I say quickly.
“The karanga ,” Miri nods . “Only a woman can sing that.”
“Why?”
“Women are the preservers of culture. Of life. Kaikaranga share our histories, honor our ancestors.”
Her words bring back the dark statues at the meetinghouse, the unwanted emotions. “Why is everything here about family?” I exclaim. “Don’t you people ever talk about anything else?” I push my chair back from the table and hurry out of the kitchen, slamming the door to my bedroom behind me.
A few minutes later, there’s a knock.
“Go away,” I say.
But Miri opens the door anyway. “Is there something you want to say to me?” she asks.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
“No, not that. About family. What’s bothering you?”
“How can you ask that?” I say, leaning toward her. “How can you pretend everything’s normal? You might be my grandmother, but I hardly even know you. My whole life I thought I didn’t have a family—no aunts or uncles, no cousins, no grandparents—not even parents, just the twins, and now I’m supposed to accept that you people are my family? You who tried to kill me, who killed my friends, who
The sight paralyzes me for a heartbeat, but I recover and meet his attack just in time. He spins away and dives again; this time I catch my own air current and leap out of the way.
“The trick to fighting while windwalking,” Paika instructs, “is to watch the wind currents and figure out the possible paths your opponent can take.” He flips through the air and cuts me off, swinging at me with his club. “Like that.”
I knock his blow away, but it throws me off balance, and I almost hit a tree.
“The other trick is to not lose honga ,” he laughs.
“Gee, thanks,” I yell. I call to the wind, feel it surge through me, and then I drop to a lower current and flip behind Paika. I seize his hair, and put the patu to his throat.
Before I can claim the win, he spins quickly and kicks my foot up. But my bond is stronger now, so I don’t lose the connection again. Instead, I rotate sideways and slash at him with the edge of the club.
“Cracker!” Paika says.
We continue to parry, and I lose all sense of time. Feeling the wind buzz in my chest, sailing through the air, watching my hard work pay off, it’s the best I’ve felt since I came here.
Finally, Paika calls it quits, and we return to the ground and trek back to the car.
“Thanks,” I say. “That was a reward.”
“You’ve earned it, girl,” he says. “I’ve never seen anyone learn as quickly as you have. Though I honestly didn’t expect you to be able to windwalk.”
“I learned from a Yakone,” I say, watching him sideways.
“Is this the same dag who told you all that rubbish about us?” Paika asks.
“Yes.”
He puffs up his cheeks and exhales slowly. “Well, he taught you well. I’ll give him that much. Those Yakone are fighters.”
“Yes,” I say again. But the rest of the way home, all I can think about is how much Rye hated being a warrior.
It’s mid-afternoon when we get back to Okarito, just enough time to do the chores Miri has consistently assigned us since Paika arrived.
When the sun sets, Miri returns home with some trout. “Decided to go inland today,” she says. She turns toward me and then asks sharply, “What have you two been doing?” She’s looking at my neck, and I suddenly realize I forgot to put the staying stone back on.
“Went to a marae ,” Paika answers pleasantly.
Miri raises an eyebrow. “Bruce Bay?” she asks.
He nods.
“You put petrol in my tank?”
“Not yet,” he says evasively. “Didn’t pass a station. But I will, love. No worries.”
“Hm. Yes, well, you and I are going to have a few words about that later, Paika. So what did you think?” Miri asks, turning to me.
I shrug. “It was cool.”
Paika coughs.
“There was singing,” I say quickly.
“The karanga ,” Miri nods . “Only a woman can sing that.”
“Why?”
“Women are the preservers of culture. Of life. Kaikaranga share our histories, honor our ancestors.”
Her words bring back the dark statues at the meetinghouse, the unwanted emotions. “Why is everything here about family?” I exclaim. “Don’t you people ever talk about anything else?” I push my chair back from the table and hurry out of the kitchen, slamming the door to my bedroom behind me.
A few minutes later, there’s a knock.
“Go away,” I say.
But Miri opens the door anyway. “Is there something you want to say to me?” she asks.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
“No, not that. About family. What’s bothering you?”
“How can you ask that?” I say, leaning toward her. “How can you pretend everything’s normal? You might be my grandmother, but I hardly even know you. My whole life I thought I didn’t have a family—no aunts or uncles, no cousins, no grandparents—not even parents, just the twins, and now I’m supposed to accept that you people are my family? You who tried to kill me, who killed my friends, who
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