The Wind City (32 page)

“Stop this,” Noah said, anguished. “Stop this, you
idiot
. You might still have time to get out of this alive with no more blood on your hands than you can stand!” And – okay that was actually sort of an odd line of argument to take, given that monster-blood wasn’t terribly troubling to the conscience.

Still. Noah’s emotion was real, that much was obvious. He … Yeah. Maybe he should let Noah explain this all a bit better, see what he meant by that, get things sorted out.

On the other hand –

Saint’s thoughts raced.

He drummed his fingers restless against one thigh. His wrist throbbed still from where Hinewai had gripped it; he’d looked, later, seen ugly bruises blossoming there.

Right back at the start of all this, Hinewai had carved her way carelessly into his mind just to make it more to her
liking
. The taste of blood and terror rose sickening in the back of his throat just from thinking about it. It was the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

Well. Saint thought of other bruises, of earlier years, hunger and anxiety his constant companions, never going away, not really. Not the
worst
thing, maybe.

But this –

Noah lying to him,
using
him. Was that any different from what Hinewai had done? Twisting his mind around without thinking twice about it.

His instincts were jangling with unease, and this time he wasn’t going to ignore them.

Noah was still standing there waiting, and Saint waved at him impatiently. “I said move aside. Jeez, are you deaf or something?” and Noah made a disgusted noise at the back of his throat and snapped, “
Fine
!” and walked into the wind, the outline of him dispersing in wind flurries that swirled leaves and rubbish around and then settled, showing no sign of which way he’d gone.

Saint stared after him for a second, because he couldn’t help it. Only a second, though. Surely. Not more than a few.

Then he squinted, and sighted, and with precision he was rather proud of burned the Hikurangi clean away, burnt it to the ground. There was a trick to it; he had to sort of channel the flame through a sideways gap between two pillars, which, if you were looking at it in the real world, just made it look like the flames vanished into nothing when actually they flared straight into the rich green falseness that was the monsters’ stronghold. He burnt it until there was nothing left except the thick smell of burnt vegetation, and fainter, but still present, the smell of burnt meat. There hadn’t even been time for anyone to scream.

Saint dusted off his hands and grinned.

“
You
,” someone said, and he whipped around and lifted his hands again, defensively, because it was the patupaiarehe man, the one he’d met before, the one with long golden-red hair tied back in a ponytail, the one with blank blue eyes and a spear in his hand.

Not this time, though. This time he wasn’t carrying any kind of weapon at all; he seemed to be trying to pass as human, which was stupid. He was stupid. Saint was stupid to ever have been scared of him or any of his stupid proud race.

“Me,” he said, with a half-bow and a flourish, and then, generously, “No, no, I quite understand you being struck speechless. Better men than you have tried and failed to muster words in my presence.”

“You,” Ariki hissed again. “So it is you. I knew something was wrong in you!
You’re
Māui’s puppet, you’re the human who’s been killing everyone. You – you destroyed the
Hikurangi
… ” He stared at it for a second, pale eyes wide with sickened shock, and then his head jerked back to focus on Saint, too fast, inhuman. “You’re the one who killed Whai,” he said, as if this was a lot more important. “Whai and the last of his kin. He was
mine
.”

“Bet he didn’t give a damn about you,” Saint said, just to be a dick, but Ariki
screamed
at him, all anguish and defiance. Apparently it was true.

“I’ll kill you,” he snarled, his lilting voice making it sound like a song, “I’ll drown you – he would’ve liked that,” and he ran at Saint, but Saint wasn’t going to cower in terror any more.

He stood his ground, stood square, because this was his city too and he had a right to be here and he could stand strong on his own – that, at least, he had always been pretty good at. He stood his ground and Ariki lashed out at his face too quickly for him to stop it, dug scratches into his cheek, but Saint knocked his hand aside and punched him in the stomach, hard, then lashed out with a kick which connected quite satisfyingly with a bony shin. Ariki yelped, undignified, and fell forward; Saint smirked a bit and then Ariki’s hands were around his neck, squeezing tight.

Saint gagged, scrabbling desperately at those slender rain-slicked fingers, trying to pry them free, but the fae man’s grip was firm and unyielding as stone and he was far too close for Saint to burn him without injuring himself. He gasped for breath and didn’t find it.
Breath, hau, it’s the life of me leaving
, he thought, a little nonsensically. Black spots were swarming at the corners of his vision.

Well, playing with fire hadn’t burnt him yet. Worth a shot.

Saint curled his hands around Ariki’s and sent out fire as hot and scorching as he could make it. He flinched at the heat of it against his face but it was worth it because Ariki didn’t just flinch, he
screamed
, high and shrill like wind wailing, and he staggered back holding his arms close to his chest and keening in pain like an animal. The sleeves of his suit jacket had been burnt away and there were ugly burns nearly to his shoulders, raw and red against his otherwise perfectly smooth skin. And he was
bleeding
, too – maybe that was what fire did to these things, made them bleed like they’d been cut. Pale red blood streamed down his arms and formed pools on the pavement, and was further watered down by the rain, and when Saint had stopped looking at it in mild interest – they had thinner blood? Maybe there was less iron in it or something? – Ariki himself was long gone.

Well. He’d be pretty useless now, with his hands like that, and of course with the blow to his morale that had come of losing first a frenemy (or something?) and then the only safe place the atua had in the city.

“Because it
was
the only safe place left,” Saint said softly, into the rain; it seemed the dramatic thing to do. “Nowhere’s safe now, not for any of you. I will hunt you down like the animals you
god
my throat hurts, ow.”

He coughed and massaged it; it was badly bruised, from the feel of it, but unburnt. The miracles of magic.

He wasn’t particularly keen on dashing off to do more fighting right this second, though. That was enough heroics for now. At the very least, he’d earned a drink. Maaan could he use a drink.

He didn’t have enough cash for more than a pint or two, but what did that matter? If worst came to worst, he could always steal, but – he was better than that, he could have so much more fun than that. He could just swagger into the nearest bar and captivate them from his first word, spin stories that had the whole bar laughing so they’d be lining up to buy him a drink. Lovably fearless. He could do just about everything, and he had never felt so… swell? Excellent? Grand?

Something superlative, anyway, some word that meant being on top of the world. Because right now ‘great’ and ‘Saint’ were very nearly synonyms. He was on the right track at last.

11

They had about given up on finding her true love that day, and Hinewai was back in her normal clothes. She couldn’t see much difference between these and the ones Tony had picked out. Modern human fashions baffled her. Without feathers or other markers to tell of one’s place in the world what was the point of it all? Now she was trailing behind Tony through the dusk as she dealt with taniwha business.

“We need to find the city atua,” Tony explained. “The ones that come from here, I mean. The Hikurangi’s protection is for
everyone
, not just those who had to flee because the forests are gone.” She frowned.

“Where do you intend to start?” Hinewai said. She knew little of these city atua and cared even less; they could all die in flames and she would care not at all, but Tony cared.

“That scholar guy who very definitely didn’t want to date you, he said something about someone called
Cuba
. So Cuba Street’s where I’ll start.” She looked thoughtful. “I would’ve checked by the waterfront, otherwise, maybe there’d be dock atua. Or on buses.”

“Buses are very dull,” Hinewai said, thinking of the man Saint as she’d first seen him, foolish and weak and detestable, and thinking of how she’d seen him last, spitting with fury; he was strong now – there was fire in him, and it made her deeply uneasy, and it made her want to quench him out. Strong he was, certainly, but he was still foolish, still detestable. That much hadn’t changed. But Tony cared, Tony cared and cared and cared. Damn her
caring
.

“Cuba Street’s nice, though – I went there to get those clothes that… made absolutely no difference to your quest at all I’m really sorry,” Tony said, all in a rush.

“I appreciate the effort, all the same,” Hinewai said, and Tony looked pleased.

They walked up a street that Hinewai found dull as she found all of this place dull, the street’s centre section paved over with stones and busy with night crowds instead of cars. Tony was frowning again.

“For someone who’s pretty damn atua,” she said, rubbing at her eyes, “I’m sure not all that great at seeing them.”

“You need to know we’re there, before you see us,” Hinewai said. “That goes for humans and those raised as humans alike.” She rested a hand hesitantly on her friend’s shoulder. “Of course you can’t see this Cuba creature; you have no idea where they would be, or what they would look like.”

Tony nodded. “That makes sense. Can you see any sign of him?”

Hinewai tilted her head, looking. “There are a few weak things,” she said doubtfully. “Nothing of – ah, there’s a reasonably strong spirit, there,” she said, and she nodded towards a stupid-looking pool with metal scoops tipping water into it – humans made such strange things in the name of decoration, sometimes. “In the water. She is all bright colours.”

Tony looked as well, and brightened. “Ooh! Okay, let’s ask her,” and she hurried forward. Hinewai stood behind and to one side of her, keeping a watchful eye.

“Hey!” Tony chirped, leaning down towards the fountain. “Can I talk to you?”

The girl in the water looked up at her. “I s’pose,” she said. “Are you the taniwha?”

Tony beamed. “Yeah! That’s me.”

The girl tilted her head. “What do you want,” she said, all flat.

“I’m looking for someone named Cuba,” Tony said, and the girl… burst into tears.

Hinewai stood there feeling awkward, but Tony cared, Tony always cared, and what’s more Tony was
good
at caring. She immediately flopped to the ground so she was eye-to-eye with the Bucket Fountain girl, and just sat there for a while, one arm resting comfortingly on the wall of the pool, as the girl cried, and Hinewai stood.

“You’re,” the girl said, “you’re, you’re too
late
, why couldn’t you have been here – why couldn’t you have… ” She cried some more, her body shaking, her eyes bright with tears.

“Māui,” Tony said, and she said it softly, but Hinewai could see her fist clench, her fingers lengthening into claws with anger.

“I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know, it all happened so fast, there was a feeling like burning and it barely affected
me
, my area is just –” She gestured around the fountain. “But he, oh, Cuba, he used to dress up in his best clothes just to hang out with me, I… ” She sniffed. “Yes. It was Māui, I think. There was fire.”

Tony nodded. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help,” she said. “I’ll do my best to avenge his death, if that helps. Though I know that’s little enough. I – I’m sorry for your loss. He took someone of mine, too.”

The girl stared up at her. “You understand.”

Tony nodded. There was ferocity in her face, and pain, and anger, and Hinewai shifted, uncomfortable. Tony hadn’t wanted to know of who Saint was truly, but
Hinewai
knew, she had smelled the fire on him, seen him talking to nowhere where Māui must’ve been. Maybe Saint was just a pawn – he was weak enough, fickle enough – but he was responsible all the same, and somehow Hinewai did not think that Tony would take this news well, would not be at all pleased to learn that the man she sought to kill was someone she –

Loved
, Hinewai’s mind supplied, all unwilling, and she clenched her teeth. It was possible. Humans fell in love so fast.

Hinewai could go behind Tony’s back, and tell other atua instead, and they would wreak their own type of vengeance on Saint. But that was deceitful, and anyway it was as good as hurting him herself, and Tony had told her not to do that. Tony didn’t want her to hurt people. Tony cared.

Hinewai stood torn and indecisive, and wished, for a moment, that she was back in her mountains, where the air was clean and cool and things made sense.