Heart of Danger (7 page)

But Mother’s face had paled to dead white. ‘I don’t think I can do it,’ she whispered. ‘I’m too frightened. I think my mind would get in the way.’

Danyat said, ‘You are wise, my daughter. We’ll do it for you. Try to believe that between us we’ll keep Hera safe.’

T
he next morning Mother stayed in the bedroom with Hera while Danyat, Oban and I focused our minds on the question. Nothing came of the experiment.

‘Don’t despair,’ Brex told me. ‘We’ll try again tomorrow.’

‘And we’ll ask around. Find out if anyone knows anything about them,’ Rynd said.

Oban took my hands. ‘Now don’t go into a panic, Juno – but listen, everyone. I’ve been thinking – this lot could be connected to the whole pandemic plot. And if they are, then they are merciless, so be careful. All of you.’

‘Well, if it is that group,’ said Paz, ‘then they will be merciless. Stands to reason – they’ve already killed hundreds of people. What do a few more matter?’

‘But what makes you think they’re involved, Oban?’ Pel asked. ‘There’s plenty of groups away from the towns who believe all kinds of weird stuff.’

Oban squeezed my hands. ‘Breathe, Juno. It’s not going to help if you panic every time we try to work out what’s happening.’

‘Sorry.’ I snatched my hands back, put both over my face and breathed, aware of Danyat beside me, steadfast. ‘Go on. Please.’

Silvern said, ‘You know, it could all be tied up. Think about it – they planned the pandemic so that Taris would get the blame. Stealing one of our children is exactly the crap thing they’d try next.’

‘But why? It doesn’t make sense!’ I heard the wail in my voice and tried to breathe deep again.

‘It might make horrible sense,’ Marba said, ‘if the mastermind behind the pandemic wants to punish Taris.’

But I was staring at Oban. ‘What? Say it, Oban! What are you thinking?’

It was plain he didn’t want to speak and his words came slowly. ‘I think that the mastermind might have worked out that you lot were communicating by using your minds. Maybe he – or she – has similar abilities. Whoever it is might see Hera – and all of you – as a threat.’

Danyat broke the silence. ‘You have defeated them once already. Very publicly and very humiliatingly. If this idea is right, then you must be wary. All of you.’

Rynd said, ‘We’re probably not in danger while they’re concentrating on Hera.’

‘But Marba, you’d better keep your eyes open,’ Brex said. ‘You might be a target before the rest of us are.’

‘We all need to be vigilant,’ Marba said. ‘Any further thoughts anyone? Okay then. Be careful and be online same time tomorrow.’

I wished they were with me. Silvern, as always when danger threatened, was energised. Her mind didn’t seize up as mine was doing. I longed for her ability to dive into danger, to confront it and to find a way through it.

Danyat and Oban got to their feet and pulled me up. Danyat hugged me. ‘Take your mind off the panic button, Juno. Keep a clear head, my dear granddaughter. Do it for your sister.’

Yes. I would have to. ‘I’ll try.’ How weak that sounded. ‘I will. I promise you. No more panicking.’ I squeezed my eyes shut and pictured stillness in my mind. When I opened my eyes, Oban and Danyat were watching me. I smiled at them. ‘Let’s have breakfast. I’m hungry.’

We didn’t talk of the danger, and instead spoke of everyday things and of how soon Dad and the grandparents would be with us. Before we left the house with Hera I stilled my mind again, searching for a sharpening of the sense of danger that had encircled us for days now. If it was closer, I got no hint of it.

Ivor arrived, gave me my morning kiss and we set off to school, Danyat and Hera ahead of us.

‘So,’ Ivor asked, ‘did your faraway friends come up with any miracle answers?’

I couldn’t believe it. ‘You’re angry with me!’

I almost heard him shrug. ‘Not much use denying it.’ But then he sounded angry with himself. ‘Sorry. I guess I got mad because you put them first.’

I felt a gap yawning between us. I wanted him to understand, to accept that this was how things had to be right now. But all I said was, ‘I didn’t put them first – I put my sister’s life first.’

He didn’t reply, and his goodbye when we got to school was curt. I wouldn’t think about it, not yet, not while there was still danger in the air, but it was as hard to keep Ivor out of my mind as it was to not give in to the panic.

Ginevra took one look at my face when I sat down beside her in the physics lab. ‘Boyfriend trouble?’

I was startled. ‘How did you know?’

‘You’re upset and trying not to be. I can sense the steel in your mind.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Look, if it helps – we all know that Ivor can be a bit moody. He’ll be fine by lunchtime.’

I didn’t know if that helped or not. Just what did moody mean? I was used to Silvern’s moods – but she never hid what she felt. I always knew where I was with her, knew we could yell at each other and stay friends. Not that there was any choice on Taris – you had to get along or else you’d have nobody. But Ivor loved me – that had to mean something. But what if it meant I should put him first above everything else? The thought made me feel sick, because I couldn’t do that, I couldn’t abandon my sister. I didn’t want to either.

A small voice in my head asked,
Even if it means losing your boyfriend?

But I wouldn’t answer that voice. Ivor would
understand
once he’d had time to calm down. He wouldn’t do anything different if he was in my situation, I knew he wouldn’t. He was a good person.

‘There’s other stuff too,’ I told Ginevra.

‘That girl who came?’ she asked. ‘I didn’t see her. She’s bad news?’

I sketched in the details for her, but then our teacher came in and began a lesson so difficult it demanded all my attention. I felt Ginevra’s strength and support beside me, and I refused to think of Ivor.

He was waiting for me at break time. He smiled his heart-stopper smile and said, ‘How about we hang out where we can watch the little ones?’

I almost cried with relief – he would help me. He understood. ‘Thank you.’ I tucked my hand in his. ‘Can we hurry? I think … I’m worried …’

He sped up, but laughed at me. ‘When are you ever not worried, Juno?’

I barely registered his words. Fear, danger – it smothered me, choking my chest. I tore my hand from Ivor’s and ran.

The playground was in chaos when I arrived. ‘Hera!’ I couldn’t see her. ‘Where is she? Hera!’ Ivor was there now too. ‘Can you see her? Ivor?’

Then I noticed Atarangi staggering to her feet, a hand to her bleeding head.

Angelo, Hera’s friend, was crying. ‘A man took her. A man took Hera.’

A little girl sobbed. ‘A bad man. A horrible bad man.’

‘Call Willem!’ Atarangi shouted, but Ivor was already running.

It had happened. They had taken her. Taken her to sacrifice her, to kill her. I couldn’t move.

Then I became aware of somebody pulling at my jeans. ‘Atarangi says come inside.’ It was Angelo, his face grubby with tears. He took my hand and tugged me along.

Atarangi pushed me into a seat. She looked terrible, but said, ‘I’m all right. Clear your mind, Juno. We need to find out where they’ve taken her.’

Yes. Of course. I tried to still my mind, to calm the maelstrom of panic tearing at me.

Atarangi picked up her violin and played a single note. The kids ran to the mat. They didn’t speak, but that made their sobs all the more audible.

I will not cry. I must calm my mind
.

I felt Atarangi take control of them. Their sobs faded as she held to her purpose. ‘Close your eyes,’ she said. ‘Good. Now, you can help find Hera. Put your hand up when you’ve got a nice calm mind.’

I added my strength of purpose to Atarangi’s. The children scrunched up their faces, then one by one relaxed and raised their hands. ‘Well done. Now think about where they are taking Hera. When you get a picture, come and show me where.’ She gestured to a large map laid out on her desk.

Angelo jumped up, ran to the map and pointed to an area south of New Plymouth where a river ran into the sea. Each of the children in turn identified the same general area. There was no doubt about it – their concentration was absolute, as was mine. I didn’t even notice Willem and Ivor come into the room until Willem said, ‘Thank you, children. You’ve done very well.’ He turned to Ivor and me. ‘We need to get going. Atarangi, I’ll send somebody to see to your head.’

We know where they’re taking Hera. We will find her. She’ll be safe
.

But the thought had scarcely formed when less welcome knowledge thumped into my head: my sister’s life would depend on me, and me alone.

I almost groaned – where had that knowledge come from?

Grif
.

Her name slipped into my mind and I gave a sob of relief. If she was with me, I could do it. I closed my eyes, letting the fear and panic fade as I concentrated on my grandmother’s love.

An alert readiness flowed through me and with it a command:
Think, child
.

What did she mean? What was there to think about? We had to follow the men who had my sister. I ran with Ivor and Willem to the front of the school, trying to listen to Willem as he barked out the search arrangements. What did my grandmother mean? Think about what?

There was no answer.

The lobby was full of people. Somebody, Ginevra I think, pushed a bag into my hands. Food, matches, knife, drink bottle, blanket. With part of my mind, I listened to Willem dividing up the search party. There were two possible routes. Ivor and I were to go with the group taking the overland path. The police would take a boat straight to the river mouth the children had pinpointed. They would be there in a few hours, but the rest of us would take longer because we couldn’t go far by road.

Part of me wanted to be gone, to be heading south towards that spot on the map beside the river. But I first had to take heed of Grif’s warning.
Think
.

My group were waiting for me, looking puzzled that I wasn’t already leaping up onto one of the vehicles. ‘You go,’ I said. ‘There’s something I have to do. I’ll catch up.’

They didn’t argue but headed off, ten of them led by Jethro and Bill, one of the farmers. There were two vehicles – a small truck and a large tractor towing a trailer. Jethro paused as he swung into the cab of the truck. ‘Juno, you won’t be able to catch us. Do you want us to wait?’

I shook my head. ‘No. You go. Please.’

He gave me a hard look but said no more. Ivor too waved at them to leave. Later I would think about that, and I would let it warm my heart that he chose to stay when he so wanted to go with the others.

‘What?’ he asked.

‘I need to think.’

I didn’t have time to explain. I ran into an empty office and sat on the floor with my back against the shut door. It was hard to clear the fear, to shut out Ivor’s look of disbelief and impatience, to put the river mouth on the map out of my mind.
Think
, Grif had ordered, so that was what I must do.

The map. What if it wasn’t right, what the little kids had said?

But it must be. They couldn’t all be wrong. None of them had seen where the others had pointed. They were all quite clear about where Hera was going.

I longed for my stratum, for their thirteen brains working to help me.
Think
. Stop wasting time with empty wishes. The map. It had to be right … unless the kidnappers had set up a false trail somehow. I didn’t try to think of the how or why, just kept my mind on the truth of it. Slowly a faint image appeared, less than an image and more of a sense – I needed to go north and not south.

I tested the image, trying to imagine heading south, then east, but every time I felt the wrongness of it. The only time I sensed clarity was when I pictured going north.

Marba. I would send him a message.

I drew my mind into a single point.
Hera taken north
. I sat for a moment longer, waiting for the energy to come back into my body, then I ran outside to begin the search.

W
hen I ran out of the building, Ivor wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Grif was right. I was on my own. I set off down the driveway at a jog, trying to focus on where I should go and not on the pain and terror in my heart.

I heard the thud of horse’s hooves behind me and glanced around to see Ivor trotting towards me on Aussie. I could scarcely see the grin on his face for the sudden tears in my eyes. He would help and support me, whatever I had to do.

He leaned down, grabbed my hand and hauled me up to sit behind him. I slid my arms around his waist and leaned my head against his back. All I could say was, ‘Ivor … I love you so much.’

He put a hand over mine. ‘S’okay, babe. But how about you tell me what’s going on, eh?’

With my head still leaning into the warmth of his back, I told him about my sense that the kidnappers had laid a false trail, that they were really heading north. ‘To a river. A wide river.’ That was new, but I felt the rightness of it. I tightened my arms around him. ‘It’s so good to have you with me. I thought … I thought you’d …’

He patted my hands. ‘You’re a hard girl to keep up with, Juno of Taris.’ His shoulders lifted in a shrug. ‘I’m not sure I’m doing the right thing here, but your mum would skin me alive if I let you go off somewhere daft all by yourself.’

‘You don’t think this is the right thing to do? You think we’re heading in the wrong direction?’

He didn’t say anything for ten clops of Aussie’s hooves, then he sighed. ‘You’ve got to look at the facts, kid. Atarangi’s got around twenty little ones who all separately saw a strong enough image of a river mouth to the south. And you got … a vague sense that we should go north. It doesn’t stack up.’

No. It didn’t, except when I tested it with my mind. ‘But will you still come with me?’ It was hard to get the words out.

He laughed. ‘You might not have noticed, my sweet, but we’re proceeding in a northerly direction right now.’

I looked around. ‘Oh. I’ll take your word for it – but, thank you Ivor. Thank you.’ I felt warmer, lighter – more hopeful.

‘There are a couple of rivers it could be,’ he said. ‘The Waitara isn’t too far, but if it’s the Mokau then we’ll have to go over a fairly grunty range of hills, and god knows what the road’s like by now.’

He didn’t ask how I would know which river, and where along its length they might be holding Hera. I didn’t know myself. I could only believe that Grif would guide me.

The road grew steadily worse as we left New Plymouth behind us. Shrubs pushed up through the seal, and there were deep holes where rain had scoured the surface. Aussie wove his way through the tangle without altering the rhythm of his stride. I fell into a kind of trance, keeping my mind as clear as I could, but no useful thoughts came to me.

From time to time we went through a town that had fallen into ruin. Sometimes we saw smoke from cooking fires, but the people who had lit them either hid from us or didn’t hear us passing. Once we came across a father and son carrying a slaughtered beast. Ivor greeted them, but they stood silent, watching us until we were out of sight. There would be no help for us from such people.

It was some time later when Ivor said, ‘We’re going to have to stop soon. Aussie needs water and a feed.’

Ivor was hungry and thirsty too, not that he said so. I stared around the countryside – all I could see was tall fern, shrubs, wild flowers and a few big trees. ‘I can’t see any water.’

‘There’s bound to be a stream soon.’ Ivor tipped his head up to look at the sky. ‘The weather’s changing. We’re in for a wetting, I’d say.’

I noticed the wind then, although when I thought about it, it had been pushing at us for a good while now. We kept going, silent again until Aussie quickened his stride.

‘He’s smelt water,’ Ivor said, letting the horse follow his instincts and leave the roadway.

Aussie pushed on through thick high ferns, and we were forced to jump down from his back before our legs were shredded by the prickly undergrowth. When we caught up to him, he was drinking from a stream.
Hera would like this stream
.

Don’t think. Concentrate. Get there.

‘I think it’s fine for us to drink too,’ said Ivor. ‘It’s clear, and Aussie’s okay with it.’

We ate some of our supplies as well while Aussie dealt to a swathe of grass.

‘We must be close to the Waitara River,’ Ivor said. ‘You think this is where she is?’

I shook my head. ‘We have to go further.’

The wind was fresher when we set out again, buffeting us harder the further north we travelled. We reached the river in the middle of the afternoon.

‘Bridge looks safe enough,’ Ivor said, but he was looking at the decking, not the sides, which had chunks bitten out of them. The river below it looked to me like an ocean, far, far bigger than anything I’d seen on Taris, where there’d been no need for bridges.

Aussie crossed it without hesitating.

He kept up the same steady pace as the day wore on, and I felt glad of his tireless strength. Once again we passed abandoned settlements and derelict farms, but we saw no more people.

‘D’you think we’re being watched?’ I asked, clinging tighter to Ivor. ‘That there are people out there, but hidden?’

He laughed. ‘You’re a great one for cheerful thoughts, Juno of Taris.’

‘But don’t you think it’s eerie? All this land and the only living things we’ve seen are some birds, a few wild cows and those two hunters.’

‘I think it’s sad,’ Ivor said. ‘My parents talk about how they used to go for picnics at the beaches around here.’ His voice grew dreamy. ‘Ice creams and sunscreen. People and caravans and tents. They’d stay for days, not working, just having fun.’

It was hard to imagine. ‘Not working? Is that what people did when they had holidays?’

He didn’t say anything for a moment. ‘Dad talked about walking along the coast. Under the cliffs. You could only do it at low tide, he said, but it meant you didn’t have to go over Mount Messenger.’

‘Oh! Could we do that? It’d be quicker, wouldn’t it, than going over a mountain?’

‘It’s not really a mountain, but yes it would be quicker. I reckon we should give it a go.’ He sat straight, looking west towards the sea. ‘We’ll need to find a road that’ll take us to the coast. Those hills in the distance.’ He pointed ahead of us. ‘That’s Mount Messenger. If we can go down the coast, we won’t have to go over that. I’m not sure when we should leave this road, though.’ He twisted round to look at me. ‘It’s a bit of a gamble. Dad said there’s an old tunnel that goes up from the beach. If that’s blocked, we’ll have to come back again. Your decision, babe.’

I didn’t hesitate. If the tunnel was blocked, we’d find another way. ‘We try it.’ It would be the best way, the quickest and surest.

‘Excellent! Come on, Aussie old fella. Just a bit further and we’ll give you a rest. We’re going to have to find somewhere to stop for the night pretty soon.’

Daylight was almost gone. Just before darkness closed in completely, we turned off the road and onto a narrow track that in places still showed the remains of old tarseal. Ivor guided Aussie up a nearly obscured farm driveway to a house that looked as if nobody had lived in it for years. Aussie found water in a stream small enough to cross with one leap, so we let him graze, then stabled him in a room of the house.

We ate cold chicken, bread and an apple each. Ivor was ravenous, but we were careful to leave food for the morning and enough for a snack at midday. There was such a knot in my stomach I had to force myself to swallow – who knew what would happen tomorrow?

It was fully dark when we finished eating, and I huddled into Ivor both for warmth and for comfort.

He put an arm around me. ‘Your mum’s going to freak out about this.’

‘About Hera?’ I was sleepy, and sore too from the long day on Aussie’s back.

He shook his head, a laugh bubbling in his voice. ‘No, Miss Innocent. About you and me spending the night together. All on our own with just a horse for company.’

I was puzzled. ‘No she won’t. Why would she? She’ll be so grateful you’re with me.’ I felt around for the bag Ginevra had given me, pulled out the blanket and wrapped it around me. Ivor lay down beside me, pulling me close. ‘She won’t worry that we might … um, let’s see if I can put this delicately …’ He was laughing again. ‘That we might … get a bit too close?’

I suddenly saw what he was getting at, and was glad he couldn’t see that I was blushing. ‘Of course not! She trusts you. She’s happy I’ve chosen such a good person.’
And she’ll be too worried about Hera to think such things
. I wanted to say more, but I was too tired.

I felt his lips brush my forehead. ‘Get some sleep. Big day coming up.’

I did sleep despite the cold, the hardness of the floor and the fear. We were on the right path, and that was all that mattered.

It must only have been a couple of hours later that I woke with a start and the sound of Marba’s voice in my head.
Sunday. Where you?

Sunday. I rolled away from Ivor and sat up. What about Sunday? What was he telling me, and what day was it today? I held my head in my hands, struggling to make sense of the message.

If Marba had talked to the others, then right now must be sometime after nine on the day we set out. Friday. So why was Sunday important? I repeated it, whispering out loud: Sunday? Sunday?

It was the day they meant to kill Hera.

I shut the knowledge out and concentrated on the message to send back.
Heading for Mokau
.

I slumped down as the energy drained from me.

‘Babe? Wassup?’ Ivor shifted but didn’t sit up.

The panic rolled back with enough force to wind me. ‘They’re going to sacrifice Hera on Sunday.’ I knew it with absolute certainty.

I heard him breathe out, then in again. ‘You can’t possibly know that, Juno. For god’s sake, don’t go imagining things.’

There wasn’t any point in arguing. ‘I need to go, Ivor. I’m going to start walking again.’

I stood up, but he hauled me back to my knees. ‘Listen to the weather. It’s raining out there and the night isn’t exactly blazing with light. You’ll fall over and break a leg and then what use are you going to be?’

I stayed where I was on my knees. My body was tensed, ready to get up and run, but he was right. The rain was heavy, and the night was solid black with no shadow. I lay back down,
Sunday
beating at my mind. I knew sleep wouldn’t come now.

‘You awake, Juno?’ Ivor whispered ages later.

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Sorry I woke you up before.’

He said, ‘It’s not that I’m worried about.’

I reached for his hand. ‘We’ll find her, Ivor. The way down the beach – we’ll find that first and then we’ll find Hera.’

‘Forget your sister for just one minute,’ he snapped.

I snatched my hand away as if he’d burnt it.

‘Sorry, babe. Sorry. But something you said before … I need to know. What did you mean about your mum being happy you’d chosen me? Did she mean she’s okay with you having a boyfriend?’

‘What else would she mean?’ It was a bit late to be asking such an obvious question. But why did he sound so shaken?

He gave a bark of laughter. ‘That’s a load off my mind. I thought for one horrible moment that she expected us to get married and swear eternal love for each other.’

I sat up, feeling as if he’d thrown me into a freezing ocean and waves threatened to drown me.

He found my hand and squeezed it. ‘Talk to me, babe. What’s wrong?’

But I couldn’t talk – just sat there in the dark shaking my head, fighting tears and pushing away what I feared was the truth.

‘Juno?’ His arm went round me.

I leaned into him, as if by being close I could make things all right. It gave me the strength to speak. I wanted my voice to be strong, though, not the whisper which was all I could manage. ‘But of course she knows we’ll marry. We hold hands. We kiss. And when I’m old enough we’ll get married. That’s what happens.’ But I knew without him saying a word that I’d got it wrong. That was what had happened on Taris.

His arm slid from my shoulders and he groaned. ‘For crying out loud, Juno! That’s not how things work. I’ve had other girlfriends, and I hope I’ll have lots more before I get myself locked up in a marriage.’

Locked up in a marriage
. How could we see things so differently? How could he feel like that about me, about us? How could he be so cruel?

‘I’m sorry, Juno. Really sorry.’ He stopped, but I still didn’t speak. Couldn’t. He sighed and went on. ‘I guess it was different on Taris. But here, nobody expects to get hitched forever to the same person when they’re only fourteen, for god’s sake.’

‘But you love me. You said you love me.’

He tried to take my hand but I wouldn’t let him. ‘No, babe. You’re the one who talked about love. I never told you I loved you.’

‘And you’re pleased about that? That makes it all right, does it? Dumb Juno loves you, but you don’t think to say you don’t love me and hey, by the way babe, you’re just a passing fancy.’

‘I’m sorry. It’s … well, I’m really sorry.’

I stood up, snatched up my blanket and bag, and started walking. I didn’t try to find the torch – I just wanted to put space between us.

‘Where are you going? Don’t be stupid! It’s pitch black out there.’ He was good at anger.

‘I’m finding another room. And I’m glad it’s pitch black so I can’t see your lying face.’

‘Fine. Be like that.’
See if I care
. He might as well have said the words out loud.

I sniffed back a sob. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing me cry. Only when I was out in what must have been a corridor or passage did I let myself slump to the floor. I stayed there, my arms wrapped around my body, my forehead on my knees. How could I deal with Ivor’s treachery, and find my sister too? There was too much hurt, too much terror, too much for just one person to bear.

I wanted to cry, but if I started I might never stop.

He didn’t love me. He’d never loved me. He wasn’t the one I’d grow old with.