Taniwha's Tear Read Free Page A

midnight
    N apier was glittering, the row of pines along the seafront all gaudy like so many Christmas trees, winking at the remains of the night. A waning moon hung low over the western hills, a tarnished crescent of silver that lit the silent streets faintly. The city had fallen asleep, collapsed from too much wine and good food, partied out, and dreaming fitfully of lavish gifts, family grievances and Boxing Day sales. The backstreets were empty, and the roads silent as Mat crept out the door and down the driveway, trying not to wake Dad. It was two hours until dawn, the day after Christmas.
    Fitzy scampered past him, briefly tangling his legs. ‘Clumsy mutt,’ Mat muttered as he staggered.
    ‘Ha! Wasn’t me who had an extra glass of wine last night,’ the turehu responded sniffily.
    Mat stared at his reflection in a window for a second before hurrying on. He looked like his father in the gloom: dark and grumpy. He threw a glance over his shoulder,wondering if he was being followed again. Lately a smelly black cat had been trailing him, and scratching at his window at night. There was nothing to see, but he wasn’t reassured, and hurried on.
    They emerged onto Marine Parade, where a couple of boy-racer types were hurtling along in their souped-up car, blaring rap music and waving bottles out the window. Mat half-thought he recognised them—Napier was small that way. He kept well out of sight. If they were who he thought, he’d not want to bump into them here and now. They were bad enough at school.
    When the road was clear, he slunk across, over the thinly grassed shingle of the beach and down to where the waves hissed and snarled. A cold salty wind met him, making him shudder involuntarily. He put a hand on the dog’s head, his eyes piercing the gloom. Away to his left was Napier Hill, just the street lights illuminating it dimly. This part of the seafront was empty, as he’d hoped.
    ‘Thanks, Fitzy,’ he whispered to the Labrador. ‘You can go hunting if you want. See if you can catch that stinky cat that’s been hanging round.’
    The dog whuffed, and almost seemed to snicker happily, before bounding back the way they had come. Mat waved, and then sat down in the shingle to wait.
    Just when he was beginning to wonder if she was coming, Mat saw her. A slender dark shape was sashaying through the waves, walking the sea’s edge. As she got closer, he could see her long black hair was plastered to her skull,and her denim jacket and jeans were soaked through, as if she had just been swimming in them. She was Maori, skinny and pretty, with a tiny moko on her chin. He caught his breath, and then half-ran to greet her. The street lights from the road behind him dimly lit her face. She smiled slyly as he came.
    ‘Kia ora, Matiu,’ said Pania of the Reef. ‘Happy Christian Day to you.’
    ‘Christmas,’ he corrected automatically. ‘And it was yesterday.’
    She shrugged, then stepped in and they pressed noses in a traditional hongi. ‘How are you, my friend?’ She smelt disturbingly of the sea, her breath tangy and her skin chill.
    He flushed a little. She had a lovely face and a secretive smile, and he had to remind himself that she was a creature of legend, not a regular girl at all. ‘I’m good,’ he replied, then faltered. ‘Well, mostly.’
    ‘Mostly?’
    He glanced back over his shoulder. ‘Well…apart from Mum and Dad still being apart. And Dad…’ he trailed off. He didn’t know how to express how things were with Dad. ‘Unresolved’ was the closest word he could find. ‘And I’m still being watched.’
    She frowned at that. ‘Still?’
    ‘There’s a black cat that tails me at night when I go out. I think it’s even been in my room. It leaves this horrible smell, like it’s been rolling in dead stuff. And someone is trying to spy on me…you know, the way Puarata usedto try to, using magic. Remember, you showed me how to make it stop. I can feel them trying to see me, but they go