Witi Ihimaera - Sky Dancer

“Manu Atua?”

“God birds,” Lottie said. She tried to say the words lightly, but her entire body language was squirming and wriggling in a very strange manner.

“Do I really want to hear this?” Skylark asked.

“The God birds were spirit birds. Their guardians were the lords Rakamaomao and Hurutearangi. They were mythical birds with marvellous powers and thus were exalted far above the ranks of the ordinary manu whenua and manu moana. Some were giant birds, like the poua or pouakai, able to circumnavigate the world and having the awesome power to devastate entire territories if they were hungry or if you made them really mad. Others were supernatural birds, like the manaia, and some were man-destroying birds.”

“You’re giving me nightmares,” Skylark answered.

“Then there was the Hokioi, Spirit Messenger of the Gods and of Immortal Life. The old-time Maori often heard this bird but never saw it. Whenever they heard its cry, ‘Hokiii-oiii! Hokiii-oiii!’, they knew it was a portent that something was going to happen. That the gods were going to intervene and change destiny.”

“So what’s the catch?” Skylark asked.

“Just don’t stray into their kingdom, that’s all. Just make sure the winds don’t take you up there and you’ll be all right. But if they do, pray hard.”

“ Very hard,” Quentin added.

“You don’t have to frighten the life out of Skylark,” Arnie reproved.

“Above all, don’t go anywhere near the volcanic island where the giant pouakai lives. Otherwise, gotcha!”

“And if all else fails? “Skylark asked.

“Don’t look back, fly like hell and get the blazes out of there!”

Everything happened very quickly after that. First, Wayne finally realised he’d been duped. “Betty Boop! Betty Boop!” he called. “You are flying over government land and have no authorisation to enter this airspace, over. Leave the area immediately, over.” He broke into the vernacular. “What the bloody hell do you hope to achieve, anyway, Lottie? If you’re planning yet another unauthorised parachute jump into the area, I warn you we have two rangers posted on the ground and they have been ordered to go directly to the Cathedral of the Birds to prevent contamination.”

Lottie grabbed the microphone. “Oh, go bite your bum, Wayne,” she said. She turned to Skylark and Arnie. “You’ve got to get out now. You’ll find the entrance to the Cathedral of the Birds at the base of the escarpment.”

Skylark was still trying to evade the inevitable. She struggled with Arnie and Quentin as they tried to get the parachute harness around her. “No way. I am not going to be strapped to somebody as if I was a backpack and then jump out of this plane.”

“It’s not the b-back. It’s the f-front,” Quentin answered. He continued to clip Skylark to Arnie.

“Look at it this way, Skylark,” Lottie said. “It will be good practice for when you go through the portal.”

“What do you mean by that? Do you know something I don’t know? Are you in on it, Arnie?”

“In on what!” Arnie answered. “I’m just the sidekick remember?”

Then it was done. Skylark was harnessed to Arnie whether she liked it or not. Quentin pulled the exit door open. The wind rushed in. Cold. Frightening. Outside were all those clouds, all that empty sky — and the ground was sure a long way down.

“Betty Boop! Betty Boop! Do not attempt to land anybody on the ground!”

But Lottie wasn’t listening. “I forgot one other thing,” she said.

“I hate it when people say that,” Skylark answered.

Her heart was pounding with fear. Her mouth was dry. Arnie was pushing her ever so gently towards the centre of the open doorway. She was trying to get back into the plane.

“Don’t forget you’ve only got four days. You have to get through the Time Portal and come back before your time’s up, otherwise —”

“Otherwise?”

That’s when Arnie ever so gently butted Skylark. “Snuggle up and hold on tight,” he said. “It’s time to go.”

Next moment, Skylark was falling out of the plane, screaming.

All the way down Arnie was stoked, whooping with joy.

“Didn’t I tell you you’d love this?” he yelled.

Love this? Skylark was still screaming, and she was frightened to death because the ground was still a long way off. She hated Arnie as he guided them down to the landing zone, because being trussed up like this was like … like having … simulated sex. And even if Arnie was kind enough to take the brunt of the landing upon himself, rolling so that Skylark wouldn’t get hurt, she wasn’t in any mood to thank him for his kindness. She went ballistic.

“You did that on purpose, you terrorist,” Skylark screamed. “You pushed me out.”

“No I didn’t,” Arnie answered. He was standing, trying to unclip the parachute. He was in a self-congratulatory mood: he had managed to land the parachute smack dead centre of the sandy spit at the bend of the river. He unzipped his suit. He turned to Skylark and freed her of the harness.

Was she grateful? She rounded on him, made an almighty swing, and socked him one in the mouth.

“And what’s worse,” Skylark screamed, “you enjoyed every minute of it, didn’t you. You enjoyed humiliating me and having me close up and personal. Don’t try to say you didn’t. Well that’s as close as you’ll ever get, mister, so wipe that smirk off your face.”

Skylark was trying to stamp her feet out of the suit. She fell in a tangle. “Well, don’t just stand there, you ape! Make yourself useful and get me untangled.”

Nursing his jaw, Arnie played the gentleman. Skylark was still yelling at him and, when she was freed, stomped off down to the river’s edge to splash some water on her face.

“Skylark, we’re here,” Arnie said. “It was the only way to get here. You can scream all you like, but on a scale of one to ten you don’t even register on my radar.” He was already thinking ahead. He took the binoculars out of their pouch and swept the surrounding landscape. On their side of the river, everything was okay. But on the other? He swept the opposite terrain and saw the flash of the sun on something metallic. He focused. Coming down through the bush were the two rangers Wayne had mentioned.

By Arnie’s calculations, the rangers were ten minutes away from crossing the river — so he and Skylark were ten minutes ahead. Not much of a margin.

Arnie gave the binoculars to Skylark so that she could take a look. “We’d better get moving,” Arnie said.

It wasn’t all that difficult to find a way up the escarpment. Despite Skylark’s gloomy assumption that she would be pulling herself hand and foot up a steep cliff and hanging from a rope like in Vertical Limit , the opposite proved to be the case. Arnie scouted the area and found a path leading from the sandy spit up the face of the escarpment.

“The path is probably the original track to the cave,” he said. “Lottie’s Maori forebears must have used it when the land was owned by them. Then, when DOC took the land, this —” Arnie indicated the sandy spit — “was probably where they helicoptered in personnel and equipment. It’s the closest you can get to the cave. See? They’ve made an effort to widen the path.”

Skylark got over her temper tantrum. She followed Arnie as he led the way. The track ascended through scrubby bush. The river fell away to the left. Then the path made an abrupt turn up a spur, taking them at right angles away from the river. Five minutes later, the scenery transformed itself: breathtaking native forest shafted by dazzling sun surrounded them in an emerald world entirely made up of ferns. Tree ferns formed the canopy overhead. Smaller ferns were interlaced below them, glowing soft green. The grass beneath their feet was moss of the most delicate texture. Truly a lost world, a world that dreams were made of.