up.”
“All right, that’s enough,” Miri interrupts. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”
“She’s a sop,” Mokai says. “And she doesn’t know anything. I’m sick of putting up with it.”
“She will learn,” Miri says. “You have to be patient with her—imagine how you would feel.”
“I don’t have time to be patient.” He walks toward the doorway. “By the way,” he says, looking back at me, “since you wanted me to say it in English: I came to tell all of you to keep a low profile. Tane’s stirred up some of the reps who voted no, and there will probably be trouble.” He pushes aside the rug and leaves.
“I better go check the situation out,” Paika says. “I’ll be back.”
Miri sits down next to me and folds her hands awkwardly in her lap. “You have to forgive Kai,” she says. “He’s not himself right now; he’s nervous.”
I don’t say anything, and she stops talking.
A few minutes later, Paika returns. With him is Jian. “Get up,” Paika orders. “We have to move.”
“What’s wrong?” Miri asks.
Jian steps forward. “The Riki thinks it would be better if Kitara were in a more secure location.” His voice is calm, but the lines on his face are taut.
They usher me out of my room and into the glowing outer chamber. In the distance, I hear shouting; the noise reverberates off the cavern walls. Jian leads us down a tunnel in the opposite direction, and Paika keeps his hand on his patu.
“Is it Tane?” Miri asks.
“I don’t doubt he’s behind it,” Paika growls, “but he’s not officially involved. Wiremu’s the leader.”
Miri curses and tries to make me hobble faster. The tunnel tips up, and soon we reach a flight of stone stairs. “Will you be able to do it?” Miri asks, looking at my ankle.
“Here.” Paika leans forward and, before I can say anything, scoops me up. Then he charges up the stairs.
We climb for a long time, and soon Paika is puffing, but he doesn’t slow down. Eventually we reach a small cavern, and Jian takes us down a tunnel to the left. We continue to move higher into the mountain, climbing another flight of stairs, following another tunnel. Before long, I lose track of where we’ve gone.
And then we reach a wide passageway with a door at the end—a real door, not a rug. It’s made of steel. Jian takes a key from a leather thong around his neck and unlocks it; then Paika carries me inside.
The room, really a suite of rooms, is enormous. Thick, black sheepskin rugs cover the entire floor. Plush couches face a fireplace in the wall and surround a low, shiny table brimming with food and drink. On the other side of the couches is a polished stone desk strewn with papers and maps. To our right is an entrance to another room; inside, I glimpse a large king-size bed built into an alcove. To the left is a bathroom—I see mirrors, towels, and a deep stone tub. Behind us is a mini kitchen with stone cabinets and sinks, and in front of us is a massive window with a magnificent view of the emerald fiord below.
“This is the Riki’s personal room,” Jian says. “He would like you to stay here until the danger is over.” He looks at Miri and Paika. “Please do not tell anyone where she is.”
“Obviously,” Paika snorts.
“Thank you, Jian,” Miri says, more politely. “Give our thanks to Henare.”
Jian bows his head and walks back into the hall. I hear him lock the door behind him.
“Why is the Riki giving me his room?” I ask.
“He doesn’t want them to gut you,” Paika says. Miri scowls at him.
“Will they really try to kill me?” I ask.
“It won’t last long,” Paika says, avoiding my question. “The chief will put an end to it. Once he subdues Wiremu, the others will lose steam.”
“Who’s Wiremu?”
“He’s the rep for the Tuhoe—the most hostile hapa in the iwi. And the only hapa that’s recognized as a Māori tribe, which could mean our goose is cooked.”
“What do you mean?”
“They
“All right, that’s enough,” Miri interrupts. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”
“She’s a sop,” Mokai says. “And she doesn’t know anything. I’m sick of putting up with it.”
“She will learn,” Miri says. “You have to be patient with her—imagine how you would feel.”
“I don’t have time to be patient.” He walks toward the doorway. “By the way,” he says, looking back at me, “since you wanted me to say it in English: I came to tell all of you to keep a low profile. Tane’s stirred up some of the reps who voted no, and there will probably be trouble.” He pushes aside the rug and leaves.
“I better go check the situation out,” Paika says. “I’ll be back.”
Miri sits down next to me and folds her hands awkwardly in her lap. “You have to forgive Kai,” she says. “He’s not himself right now; he’s nervous.”
I don’t say anything, and she stops talking.
A few minutes later, Paika returns. With him is Jian. “Get up,” Paika orders. “We have to move.”
“What’s wrong?” Miri asks.
Jian steps forward. “The Riki thinks it would be better if Kitara were in a more secure location.” His voice is calm, but the lines on his face are taut.
They usher me out of my room and into the glowing outer chamber. In the distance, I hear shouting; the noise reverberates off the cavern walls. Jian leads us down a tunnel in the opposite direction, and Paika keeps his hand on his patu.
“Is it Tane?” Miri asks.
“I don’t doubt he’s behind it,” Paika growls, “but he’s not officially involved. Wiremu’s the leader.”
Miri curses and tries to make me hobble faster. The tunnel tips up, and soon we reach a flight of stone stairs. “Will you be able to do it?” Miri asks, looking at my ankle.
“Here.” Paika leans forward and, before I can say anything, scoops me up. Then he charges up the stairs.
We climb for a long time, and soon Paika is puffing, but he doesn’t slow down. Eventually we reach a small cavern, and Jian takes us down a tunnel to the left. We continue to move higher into the mountain, climbing another flight of stairs, following another tunnel. Before long, I lose track of where we’ve gone.
And then we reach a wide passageway with a door at the end—a real door, not a rug. It’s made of steel. Jian takes a key from a leather thong around his neck and unlocks it; then Paika carries me inside.
The room, really a suite of rooms, is enormous. Thick, black sheepskin rugs cover the entire floor. Plush couches face a fireplace in the wall and surround a low, shiny table brimming with food and drink. On the other side of the couches is a polished stone desk strewn with papers and maps. To our right is an entrance to another room; inside, I glimpse a large king-size bed built into an alcove. To the left is a bathroom—I see mirrors, towels, and a deep stone tub. Behind us is a mini kitchen with stone cabinets and sinks, and in front of us is a massive window with a magnificent view of the emerald fiord below.
“This is the Riki’s personal room,” Jian says. “He would like you to stay here until the danger is over.” He looks at Miri and Paika. “Please do not tell anyone where she is.”
“Obviously,” Paika snorts.
“Thank you, Jian,” Miri says, more politely. “Give our thanks to Henare.”
Jian bows his head and walks back into the hall. I hear him lock the door behind him.
“Why is the Riki giving me his room?” I ask.
“He doesn’t want them to gut you,” Paika says. Miri scowls at him.
“Will they really try to kill me?” I ask.
“It won’t last long,” Paika says, avoiding my question. “The chief will put an end to it. Once he subdues Wiremu, the others will lose steam.”
“Who’s Wiremu?”
“He’s the rep for the Tuhoe—the most hostile hapa in the iwi. And the only hapa that’s recognized as a Māori tribe, which could mean our goose is cooked.”
“What do you mean?”
“They
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