The Wind City Read online

  “I can’t… do much,” Noah said, his voice sounding faint, and then those dark eyes slid shut and he disappeared.

  “Noah!” Saint said, snapping his head around, but there was no sign of the gho – the wairua, no sign of him at all, like he’d just vanished –

  And then he was back again, standing by Saint’s side, and Saint let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding and slumped to the ground.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Noah said, sitting beside him.

  He did sound apologetic, too. Saint grimaced. “No, I… ” He had seemed so composed, but now Saint saw how weak he was, how desperate. It made his heart clench. He’d never quite managed to make himself calloused enough not to hurt when people were in pain, and Noah had exhausted himself for his sake, trying to impress him. “Seriously, that was one hell of a show. Ten out of ten, would recommend,” he said, and Noah beamed.

  “You’re welcome! It was nothing.” He tilted his head. “… I don’t mean to worry you, but… what was?”

  Saint stared at him. “The – the thing you did, with the birds.”

  “Oh. The bird thing. Yes, of course. I remember.”

  Saint tried to grin and tried even harder not to show how much that unnerved him. “Beats the hell out of ugly hairy giants, anyway.”

  And then Noah stared at him, eyes wide and mouth open slightly, as though he intended to breathe out his shock and sketch it with wind. “Sorry,” he said, voice faltering. “Did you say giants, Saint?”

  “Well, giant. Singular. Turns out my flatmate isn’t just a git, he’s a git and not human.” He paused, then added, “… And a slob, honestly, it’s shameful, you should see the state of our sink.”

  “Your flatmate is a maero, and you’re still alive?” said Noah.

  Saint slapped his chest. “Hau still safe and sound,” he said cheerily, and then the smile slipped off his face. “You’re serious?”

  “They – they are dangerous,” said Noah, hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Very, very dangerous. Killers. They kill people, they kill humans, because humans are so easy to kill now that – just very easy to kill, okay? And maero quite enjoy it.”

  “Oh,” said Saint.

  “Kill him,” said Noah. His eyes were piercingly intent. “Kill him before he kills you. You must.”

  Saint shifted unsteadily. “Yeah,” he said. “Uh. Honestly, there’s nothing I’d want more – he’s a pain in the arse – but I can’t just kill him. He’s not human, but that doesn’t give me the right to end his life just because you told me to! No. Just no. Dude, that’s… that’s like racist, but worse. Worse. Than racist.”

  Noah shook his head. He looked less like himself for a moment, face a snarl of impatience and anger and maybe fear, but what did a dead man have to be afraid of? Unless he was afraid for Saint, but they’d only just met, so that couldn’t be right. “No. No! You don’t understand! Stupid man, understand!” He stretched out his hands like he wanted to grab Saint by the shoulders and shake some sense into him, then let them drop useless by his sides. “Some of the atua are human enough to live among you and cause minimal harm,” he said, speaking very rapidly, “and some – some can pretend to be human, they can wear human masks, they’re good enough to pretend to be human long enough for them to dip their claws in human blood and feast. Maero don’t have feelings, Saint, not like your people do – they’re not beings, they’re beasts! There’s nothing I can do, I can’t even make fire by myself now and I can’t affect things aside from the wind. Saint, please.”

  Saint shook his head. “Believe me,” he said, pained. “I’d like nothing better than to have an actual good reason to mindlessly hate the guy, but – he’s never been anything worse than annoying. He took me in when I was literally starving, and hasn’t asked for anything in return, and… look, he might not be human, and I might not like him, but he’s a person. Stop it.”

  Noah relaxed a little, though he still looked on edge, twitchy. “… All right,” he said. “If you say so. I mean – you’d know best, I suppose, as you know him.” He frowned. “Maybe he’s only half-breed? Ha! Of course, leave it to you to find the only one of the maeroero that isn’t psychopathic.” His hands moved in quick nervous motions, drawing invisibly with wind, maybe. “My apologies.” He laughed. “Just so long as he hasn’t mysteriously befriended any women or strangers over the last few days you’re probably safe.”

  What?

  “What?” Saint said.

  “Well… ” said Noah, looking a little confused. “That’s what they do, you know. Always have. They trick those they intend to kill into thinking they’re people, then charm them, then… ”

  “Oh,” said Saint.

  Noah stilled. “What is it?”

  “He brings girls home all the time,” Saint said, faint. “He always makes me leave for a few hours, of course, but – I never saw them more than once. Not ever. Funny, that.”

  There were rooms in the flat that the Flatmate had never let him see, and there was a bolt on the fridge. Saint had thought both those things were because he was afraid Saint would steal something but… what if…

  What if he had someone down there right now? He could, there was every chance that he could, and Saint would come back down to find a locked door and a few hours later the Flatmate would deign to let him in and there’d be no sign of the ‘guest’ he had been ‘entertaining’ –

  “I need to get down there,” Saint said, standing. “Right the hell now.”

  “Be careful,” Noah said. “They’re strong and wily and quick. You’ll have to be cunning. You have to know how to fight them.”

  “And how do I fight them, master ghost?” Saint said, temper fraying a little. “You’ve been so helpful and informative, so please, explain away! That is, if you can even remember.”

  “I… what?” Noah said, looking lost and maybe hurt. “What do you mean? My memory’s fine, I… ” He trailed off, standing there. “I’m sorry, I… ”

  Saint grimaced but ran, before Noah could say anything, before Saint himself could even think about what he was doing, about the dangers of this. Though not so fast that a pleased little corner of his mind didn’t have the chance to register that, hey, apparently he had some heroic impulses after all. Lovably fearless, he thought, and grinned, and ran faster.

  Tony woke up alone, and she coughed and gagged for a second, because there was a strange taste in her mouth, not foul so much as deeply unfamiliar. Slimy and cold. She sat up and looked around, clutching her aching head. She was on the strip of imported sand at Oriental Bay, and it was a little after sunrise. Quite a ways from home, but anywhere by the sea was home, really. For a second the sight of the ocean calmed her, and then –

  The boat sinking, the engines tangled in Whai’s nets, glowing faintly blue. Whai giving her a smug grin. The grin had changed to shock as she lunged at him, and she remembered – claws and teeth and flashing scales, the sensation of being something, something huge and powerful and ancient. Whatever it was Whai had been trying to achieve, it looked like he’d done it. Human she most definitely wasn’t.

  She tried to remember it in more detail, but everything had been a confusion of waves and panic and the engine still coughing in complaint. Tony knew she needed to swim away, bob around on the surface in her life jacket and wait until someone came to save her – she knew that, but still she was swimming down after the boat, and she shouldn’t have been able to see in the water but she could and she could see her boat sinking and it was hers. She’d worked long and hard to own that boat. So she dived down, kicking strongly, and tugged at the net tangling the engine. Just touching the string of it made her fingers tingle unpleasantly, like a jolt of electricity. Those fingers were becoming larger, she noticed, clawed and thick and greenishbluishblack like her smooth tough skin. She was angry. Whai was hovering in the water a few metres away, shoulders shaking with laughter as he watched. He’d wrecked her boat. She swam after him, leaving the boat to fa
ll, fall, fall towards the seabed, and Tony was fast and strong and quick and there was a joy to this, the chase, Whai kicking his way ahead of her and she wasn’t angry any longer, really. She was in the sea and of the sea and it was all around her.

  But. Her boat.

  But the ocean, her own self strong and quick and belonging here, and there were fish to hunt and sea to roam and Tony tried to gather her thoughts, which were still there, really, just beneath this deep exultation of something much more ancient than she was. Tony tried to –

  Tony –

  The taniwha swam.

  Here and now Tony hugged herself and shivered at the memory. If that was what she really was, some ancient thing whose thoughts hurt her head when she tried to remember them, she wasn’t at all sure that was what she wanted to be. She said aloud, to the beach and the ocean and the circling gulls and the dolphin carcass beside her, “Whai I am going to kill you so much dead.”

  She stood up and – wait, what?

  She looked down and leaped back, stumbling, falling to the sand. There right in front of her eyes was a dead dolphin, indeed quite thoroughly dead, missing huge gory chunks so that she could see its bones and innards. Its glassed-over eyes were staring at her. Flies were already buzzing around it.

  …She’d killed a dolphin? Oh god, oh god. That was worse than punching a panda. That was criminal, that was practically on a par with being mean to babies, oh no oh no oh noooooooooooooo –

  Tony proceeded to have a small mental breakdown.

  Then she stumbled home, because really, what else was there to do. It was quite a sizeable walk from the waterfront to her place – she had enough money to live comfortably, but definitely not enough for a pricey ocean-view property – but it helped return her to normality, the walking, people going about their early-morning business. She even managed to smile at them, though they mainly just looked at her weirdly. Right. Her clothes were soaked through, crusted with sand and salt. She teetered on the edge of frantic panic, then saw with relief that her favourite fish and chip place was open. Comfort food, that was what she needed. She bought a mochaccino, first, from Starbucks because it was there and open. She cradled the cup to her chest and drank it all in one draught and felt better. Then she bought a scoop of chips and some battered hoki and a pineapple fritter and went on walking home, clutching the warm newspaper-wrapped bundle to her chest, chewing happily on hot greasy chips and fresh flaky fish and –

  The bites taken out of that dolphin. The foul taste in her mouth. OH NO OH NO OH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO…

  When she finally got home Hinewai peeked out of her door, wrapped in heavy layers like she always was in the day time. “Hello,” she said haughtily, as though she was doing Tony a favour by talking to her, which normally Tony found sort of hilarious but right now, no.

  Tony said nothing, just fumblingly opened the door to her own flat and let herself in and sat back against the door, hugging herself and shivering a bit.

  “Are you well?” came Hinewai’s voice from outside, no longer quite so haughty.

  “I lost my boat,” Tony said, and her voice came out very small. It was the only thing she could think of to say that was immediately understandable. She couldn’t just say ‘I’m a horrible sea monster’, after all.

  “Ah,” said Hinewai after a pause. Then, “How?”

  “Because there was this, this thing happened and – and I’m a horrible horrible sea monster or something I don’t really remember but it’s horrible horrible horrible,” Tony wailed, hugging her knees.

  “Well, yes,” Hinewai said.

  Tony went still and suspicious. “What do you mean ‘yes’?”

  “Ah,” Hinewai said.

  “Hang on a sec, I’m not having this conversation with a door. And – actually no I’m not having this conversation at all, okay? I’m just – I’m gonna go have a really really long shower and hug all my soft toys and then try and find a new job, and you, you please just, um, just go away and don’t come back until I’ve forgotten that you’re not just some really eccentric girl, you’re probably one of those weird atua things like Whai because I am not capable of dealing with that right now, okay?!”

  …She possibly said it a little more aggressively than she intended to.

  “Okay,” Hinewai said.

  “Okay. Good.”

  Tony had a really long hot shower and used her favourite mango and strawberry bodywash and then cuddled up in her most comfortable clothes and her hoodie with the little ears on it, like a puppy. Because there were times that you just needed to wear a puppy hoodie, okay? It was a universal constant.

  She sat on her couch, forlornly. The only thing on was Home and Away. Dangit.

  Someone knocked at her door. Tony heaved a sigh and went to open it.

  Hinewai was standing there, a little wild around the eyes. “I got you a basket of eels!” she said.

  She shoved it towards Tony. Tony took it, reluctantly. It was a really nice basket, woven from fresh flax. The smell of that mingled with the smell of the eels. “Um?”

  “It is traditional,” Hinewai said stiffly. She crossed her arms over her chest and sort of sniffed proudly. If Tony had been paying attention she could’ve figured out that Hinewai wasn’t human way, way earlier; no one was allowed to be that beautiful and also be human, no one, and also her eyes were black all the way through, with no iris, and her hair was pure white, long and straight and fine. Maybe Tony had just been avoiding looking at her properly. Though, then again, she… did spend quite a lot of time looking at her.

  “Feel better!” Hinewai added, narrowing her eyes menacingly.

  “Um.” Tony looked at the basket. Thank goodness it had a cover, at least. And it was certainly better than the plastic washing basket. “I… I bet they’re… really nice eels. As eels go. Thanks?”

  “They are the very finest of tuna,” Hinewai said, affronted.

  “I’m sure they are! I mean. Sure, yeah. Um. So that’s a tradition, is it?”

  “Of a sort. It’s meant to be one way to placate taniwha, gifting them with food.”

  “Oh, yeah, when you first moved in you gave me all that fish and I had to like cook it all at once… ” She put the basket down carefully, then sort of nudged it with her foot. “I’ll sure cherish those, um, eels.”

  “I brought you sushi as well.”

  “Oh thank god.”

  A little while later they were sitting on the couch, awkwardly. Tony picked at her chicken. (She really couldn’t stomach fish right now. Not even fish combined with ricey deliciousness! It was very sad.) “Um,” she said, because any talking at all was better than not. “So taniwha, huh. How about that. I mean, I’ve heard of those, at least, so that’s, um. Good? I kinda thought they were all guys! Haha, weird.”

  “Taniwha are guardian spirits. They –”

  Tony winced and flailed her arms, trying to get Hinewai to shut up. When Hinewai failed to shut up Tony gently placed a hand over her mouth. “Ack, no no, this was the worst conversation topic to choose ever, sorry,” she said. “Please don’t tell me you came over to explain stuff – I really can’t deal with that right now.” She moved her hand away. Hinewai nodded silently. “Because – look, I lost my boat and apparently I’m a taniwha and I think I killed a dolphin and I tried to eat fish and chips and I couldn’t.” She grabbed her neighbour’s shirt, tugging her closer so she could stare at her with anguished eyes. Hinewai looked alarmed. “Hin,” Tony said desperately. “Fish and chips is my very favourite.”

  Hinewai disentangled her hands. “Actually,” she said, and then she coughed and looked sheepish, which was quite an amusing way for an aloof beautiful fae-girl to look. “I was hoping we could further observe the adventures of the housewives experiencing desperation.”

  “What – oh! Oh, right, yeah, I introduced you to that, didn’t I.”

  “I wish to learn who will win the heart of the handsome Mike,” Hinewai said eagerly. “And further see how
the tension of losing so close a friend will affect the housewives! Will their friendship survive the strain?”

  Tony giggled. “Yeah, okay. Yeah. We can do that.”

  One entertaining marathon of carefully explaining human social conventions later, Hinewai said bye – or ‘bid her farewell’, as she put it, and how on earth had Tony not noticed something was odd about her earlier than this? The way she spoke was stilted and strange, and even the way she left the apartment was worth watching. She handled the doorknob much like how she’d probably handle a baby or someone’s feelings: gingerly, and with distaste. Hinewai was ridiculous.

  Tony grinned, feeling a lot more settled. Maybe this would be okay! Most things were, if you tried hard enough. She’d have to think about things a lot, though. Get them sorted in her head. Figure things out.

  She paced around, thinking, occasionally sipping at heavily sugared coffee and nibbling on snacks. It was only later that she realised she’d eaten all of the fish sushi without even noticing.

  Friends were the best.

  3

  Once in the apartment Saint looked around. There was no sign of the maero except a slight smell, a smell that made him think of forests or maybe dogs. The window was open, wide open, and when he ventured near it the smell grew stronger. Odd sort of exit. Saint’s odd behaviour must have warned him away, or something?

  Why hadn’t Saint paid more attention? He had no damn idea if the maero was having company over at any point today, and gods knew he gloated about it enough, so there really wasn’t any excuse for Saint not to have known – but instead of paying attention he had just wallowed in his own misery when people were in danger.

  As it was Saint had no idea whether there was any immediate danger of people dying, or – well, or even if there was any danger of people dying, actually. Noah seemed nice, and Saint liked him, but that didn’t mean he was trustworthy. Actually, to judge from Saint’s history that tended to mean the opposite.

  Saint dedicated himself to the task of Looking For Things, which took quite a bit of attention and mostly involved swinging open cupboard doors to peer triumphantly inside them at whatever secrets their shadows concealed, though only after politely standing aside so all the insects could vacate. The Flatmate wasn’t the best at housekeeping, and Saint of course had never been bothered.