Coiled Snake (The Windstorm Series Book 2) by Katie Robison Read Free Book Online Page B

Yakone territory.”
    With those words, I’m suddenly reminded of whom I’m talking to, what he’s done. In my mind, I replay the way he disarmed me on the beach, drove the patu into my throat. How many Yakone did he kill?
    “I think I’ll go to bed now,” I say, standing up.
    “Right-o. Don’t forget to do that run in the morning.”
    I nod and leave the room.
    As I lie under my wool blankets, I stare out the glass doors at the clear, star-lit sky and wonder how much time I have left.

My bare feet make smacking noises as they pound the wet sand. The ground is cool beneath my skin. Soft. On my right, the ocean crashes in my ears, and on my left, Okarito’s famous birds cry in the jade forest.
    I have no idea how far to run, nothing with which to measure my distance. But it doesn’t matter. I’m going to run until I drop. Or until the sentries shoot me.
    Don’t go back , my heart tells me as I charge along the beach .
    Where else would I go?
    Just keep running. Get away.
    I can’t. They’ll find me.
    You aren’t a Rangi. You can’t become one. They’re animals. Remember what they did to the Yakone.
    The Yakone didn’t want me either. They tried to kill me. At least Paika and Miri are protecting me.
    It was a misunderstanding. Think about Rye, Lila, Jeremy. They wanted you, helped you. They’re your family.
    Miri is my family. My real family. And Paika knew my parents.
    No! Don’t let them deceive you. Don’t forget what they’ve done!
    The Yakone killed my parents.
    It’s a lie. They’re trying to trick you.
    Why? What do they want from me?
    My breath comes in hard gasps as I run even faster. My tired arms are beginning to protest, but I ignore them. What do they want from me? Why are they keeping me alive, teaching me to protect myself? What’s their game?
    My foot catches on a stone, and I fall forward, tumbling across the wet beach. I roll over and lie on my back, stare up at the sky. The clouds today are longer and whiter than ever. They rise above me, doubling the size of the blue mountains, stretching into the heavens. I wonder if my parents are up there somewhere, watching me. Would they want me to stay with the Rangi or leave?
    Do I even care what they’d think?
    I stand up slowly. Sand clings to my clothes and skin, and I realize my legs are tingling. I probably shouldn’t have pushed them so hard.
    I walk most of the way back, jogging the final stretch so Paika won’t accuse me of being lazy. I’m sure I ran more than his required three miles anyway, so it’s not like I cheated—not that he could say anything about cheating.
    He’s waiting for me on the beach. In his hand is a patu , but it’s not made of bone like the ones we were using yesterday. It’s made of some kind of green stone.
    “This is a mere pounamu ,” Paika says when I get close. “Its name is Haunui-ā-Pāpārangi. It has great mana. ”
    I reach out to feel it, and he jerks it away from me. “Don’t touch!” he snaps. “It’s tapu .”
    “Translation please?” I sigh.
    “This is very sacred,” he says slowly. “It belonged to one of my ancestors, a Riki .”
    “So it’s sacred because it’s old?” I ask.
    “It represents my whakapapa , my genealogy, so yes, that’s part of it. But like I told you, it has mana —how can I describe it? Spiritual power. An essence or energy that comes from the natural world. It’s a great honor for me to care for it.”
    “Okay,” I say. “Why are you showing it to me?”
    “Because you don’t understand yet what it means to be a warrior. It’s not just about fighting. It’s about connecting to yourself, to your ancestors, to the life force. Look.” He pulls off his tank top to reveal his tattooed chest. I cringe at the sight of the familiar pattern. “This,” he says, tracing the tattoo, “connects me to the rest of the tribe, to my brothers and sisters. It connects me to the world around me, to the wind. It helps make me whole. ‘There’s no such