Sky Dancer

Chapter Eleven

The next morning, Bella left Hoki, Mitch and Francis guarding the ripped sky and went into Tuapa to stock up on food and drink from the local supermarket. With Mitch as a drinking partner, Bella’s booze cupboard was already low, and that boy of his could sure eat.

Bella’s second call was to Harry Summers at the farming supplies store for another two cases of ammunition.

“Out already?” Harry asked.

“I’m teaching Hoki how to fire a shotgun,” Bella said. “Now I can’t stop her from taking potshots at anything.”

“In that case, I’m staying clear of Manu Valley,” Harry quipped.

The next stop was to see Lucas at the garage and return his doll. “What happened to Maisie?” he asked, gaping at the shredded pile of plastic in Bella’s arms.

“Sorry, Lucas, Hoki was mowing the lawn and ran over it. Would you like another one? I notice the massage parlour has a sale on some of its products. They have one of these dolls in the window and —”

“No,” Lucas said, blushing. “Let Arnie buy his own when he gets back.”

“That’s the other thing I want to tell you,” Bella said. “Hoki asked him to take Skylark to Auckland to get some clothes and other personal things that Cora needs. He’ll be gone for a week.”

“A week?” Lucas yelped. “Why so long? You could go round the world in a week.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Bella clucked sympathetically. “But look on the bright side, Lucas. Just think how grateful Cora will be that you did this for her.”

“You think so?” Lucas asked hopefully. “You really think so?”

Bella nodded and patted him on the shoulder. “You’re a good man, Lucas,” she said as, finally, she was able to leave him and go to visit Cora at the hospital.

There, Bella’s heart went out to this woman who had come to mean so much to so many different people.

“Cora? Can you hear me?” Bella asked, as she sat down beside her and held her hand. “Hold on, dear. Skylark’s on the way to save you. She’ll be back soon.”

Cora seemed to hear her, gave a sigh and turned her head away. In profile, Bella saw the look of her dear sister Agnes, and her thoughts turned to the possibility of some connection.

“No, it’s a crazy idea,” Bella muttered. But the idea kept nagging at her and soon she was making two and two out of so many flimsy possibilities. Cora was born in Christchurch in the same year that Agnes ran away from home. Cora had Maori ancestry on her mother’s side, so could that mother have been Agnes? Looked at from another angle, if Skylark was the chick, it made sense that she should have some kinship relationship with Manu Valley, didn’t it?

Yes, and pigs could fly.

“Get a grip,” Bella scolded herself. She looked for some way of diverting her attention. A bouquet of beautiful long-stemmed roses had been delivered to Cora. Bella found a vase, filled it with water, took the roses out of their cellophane wrapping and began to arrange them. Fantasising that they had been sent by Tom Cruise or Brad Pitt, she couldn’t resist looking at the card: To My Darling Goddaughter, Cora. Get Well Soon. Love Florence.

“Florence?” Bella mused. “Who the hell’s Florence?”

Her curiousity piqued, she walked out to the hospital receptionist. “Can you tell me who sent the roses?” she asked.

“They arrived this morning,” the receptionist answered. “Beautiful, aren’t they? I had to sign for them.” She rummaged through the filing cabinet for the receipt. “Here we are,” she continued. “They came from Mrs Florence Wipani of Christchurch.”

“I know that name,” Bella said, and her eyes widened with recognition. “You wouldn’t have a phone number there would you?”

“You can use the telephone in Dr Goodwin’s room if you wish,” the receptionist said, giving the number to Bella.

Bella went to the room and closed the door behind her. She sat down feeling a bit weak at the knees. Things were getting curiouser and curiouser. It had been years since she had even thought of Florence; after all, Florence had been more Agnes’s friend than hers or Hoki’s.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” Bella said as she picked up the telephone and dialled the number.

“Hello?” a voice answered. Cultured. Upper class.

“Is this Florence Wipani?” Bella asked.

“This is she,” the voice answered. “To whom am I speaking?”

No doubt about it, Bella thought. She was talking to Florence all right, her sister Agnes’s best friend; when Agnes had left Tuapa, Florence had joined her in Christchurch. Florence had always had a slight lisp — Thith ith thee — and no amount of cultivation could hide it. She’d come up in the world since the days when she had been plain old Flo, Fred the butcher’s daughter.

Bella decided that the best strategy was to cut the crap and go straight for the jugular. “I know it’s you, Flo, so don’t try to hide it. This is Bella here, Agnes’s sister. I want the truth about Cora. What are you hiding? What’s this all about?”

It seemed to Skylark that thousands of small bones were flying all around her, twisting, whirling and wheeling. At first she thought they might hit her, but they seemed to know she was there and whizzed, sizzled and spat past her with centimetres to spare. The bones trailed light like after-images and, as she watched, Skylark saw they were moving in a particular sequence. They were building a circle. One by one, they spun, hovered, edged in with each other and clicked into place until —

Interlock.

The bones became stationary. Time was in stasis. But for how long? What had Lottie said?

She had four days.

The circle began to hum. Skylark flew closer to it. She saw that a dark indigo tunnel had formed inside the circle. “The Time Portal,” Skylark whispered to herself. It looked as if it went on for years and years. It was so dark in there. Dark. Windy. Scary.

“Where are you, Arnie?” Skylark called.

“Right behind you,” he whistled. “Feel like doing another tandem jump?”

Before she could say no, Arnie pushed her through.

“You boofhead!” Skylark screamed. “I really hate you.”

“Oh Skylark,” Arnie laughed. “Can’t you just switch off your brain and enjoy the ride? Just pretend you’re in a hydroslide at the swimming pool.”

“I avoid those slides like the plague,” Skylark answered.

She looked for something to hold onto — but what? There was nothing there but air.

“Just think of all those sci-fi movies where the hero has to go back in time or through a stargate or wormholes into an alternative universe.”

“Hero? Excuse me?” Skylark asked. She hated this sensation of falling and of having no control over it.

Arnie, of course, was loving it, revelling in his new abilities: “Oh man! Oh wow! Oh awe-some!” Skylark got so tired of his darting over, under and around her, not to mention his persistent male chauvinism, that she accidentally on purpose tipped one of his wings with hers. Arnie gave a yell as he tumbled off to the left.

“Oops,” Skylark said. “Heh heh heh.”

“You meant to do that,” Arnie accused as he righted himself and sped back. But he was so revved up, he couldn’t stay cross for long. Everything excited him, and when he looked ahead, the pupils of his eyes dilated. “Oh man, I’ve got telescopic vision!” he yelled. “I can see light down there.”

“Down there? Where?”

“Can’t you see it?” Arnie asked. “Oh, I forgot,” he added slyly, “you’re a skylark and you have limited vision.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Skylark answered. “But yes, I can see it!”

Sure enough, far down in the distance was a pinhole of brightness. Then the pinhole began to widen. “Uh oh,” Skylark said. The pinhole had now become like the plughole of a bath. She felt centrifugal forces sucking her down, buffeting her around, and she had the sudden urge to fight against them. Just because she had agreed to go back in time didn’t mean she had to like it. Nor did she have any experience of being a bird, and it was difficult learning about the controls. “Where are the bloody brakes?” she yelled. “How do I get this thing into reverse?”As for Arnie, he was totally into it.

“Don’t fight it! Go with the flow!” Arnie folded his wings and dropped like a stone through the middle of the light.

“But I hate flying,” Skylark moaned. The brightness became so intense she had to close her eyes. She felt giddy from fighting against the descent, and she felt as if she was spiralling out of control. As much as she hated to follow Arnie’s example, she realised that pretending to be a sky diver was the only way to get out of this mess. And because Arnie wasn’t around, she let out a most unladylike scream of terror.

“Eeaarggh!”

The tunnel spat Skylark out. She had the sensation that she was falling through a huge sky. She felt coldness. She felt currents of air …

Then something nudged her.

“You can put on your brakes now,” Arnie said. “And you can open your eyes.”

“I don’t want to look,” Skylark said. Even so, she peeked out of her left eye and saw the Southern Cross directly above. She would have to remember that when she and Arnie needed to find their way back. The Time Portal was between the two pointer stars.

Skylark took a deep breath and looked down. Big mistake. For a moment vertigo overwhelmed her, and she screamed again. Who would catch her if she fell?

“You can use your wings now.” Arnie said as he flew alongside her. He saw that she was frightened, and tried to calm her fears.

Skylark remembered what she was, spread her wings and stabilised. Her heart stopped beating so fast. Her breathing became normal. She would have thanked Arnie for his solicitude, but he spoilt it by smiling like an idiot.

“What!” Skylark asked him.

“I heard you as you came out of the Time tunnel,” he kidded her. “What’s with the ‘Eeaarggh’?”

“I was practising my karanga,” Skylark sniffed.

“Your karanga? Do you want to frighten the birds away? Come on, Skylark, admit it. You were scared, weren’t you! You were out of your tree!”

“A Masters in avian aeronautics is not part of my CV,” she answered. “Nor is finding my way without a map.”

Arnie laughed, then quickly became more sober. The Southern Cross had winked out and, in its place, was a primaeval sky. Planets whirled around like pinballs. Comets trailed fiery tails from north to south. Strange shapes like winged snakes were gathering above them.

“I’m getting a bad feeling about this,” he said. “I think we’re in the highest Heavens, the uppermost reaches of the sky, where the giant pouakai lives.”

Don’t look back, Lottie had said. Fly like hell and get the blazes out of there.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t say that,” Skylark said. “We’d better not stick around.”

This time it was she who folded her wings and dived. Arnie zoomed after her. All the way his feathers were prickling, and he had the sense that he and Skylark were being followed.

“Hurry, Skylark!” he urged.

Down, down, down they went, dropping from one Heaven to the next. Not until he felt they were safe did Arnie call out to Skylark that she could rest.

“Well, wherever we are,” Skylark said when he caught up with her, “one thing’s for sure. You’re not in Guatemala now, Dr Ropata.”

Below, the sky became dark with thickening clouds. A distant blue star was trying to break through the cover. Everything was rippling, faster and faster, and all around them the sky was transforming from one shape into another. From far off came a glow.

“That’s it,” Arnie said “We’re in a time warp. It’s not just a question of where we are but also of how far back we’ve come —”

The clouds shimmered with the shifting pastels of the dawn horizon. As the glow brightened, they rippled with blues, ochres, vermilions and crimsons. Right at the centre of the glow emerged an orange core.

“The sun is rising,” Arnie said.

“But look at it! It’s so huge, so bright, and the sky, Arnie, it looks so new as if, as if —”

Shades of pink began to spiral out from the core of the sun. They were followed by shades of crimson which, as they reached the earth’s atmosphere, filled the air with auroras that bathed the sky with shimmering beauty. Blessing it, purifying it, sanctifying it. Benediction after benediction.

Skylark turned to Arnie. “You’re right,” she said. “We’ve done it. We’re back at the beginning of Time when the Lord Tane made the world. This is the First Sky, and —” She looked up. Remembered the Great Book of Birds. The clouds were opening like a huge gate. From the other side of it came swathes of glorious excited song. Then there was a boom as the gates opened, and the sound of a laughing voice: “Go then, my impatient ones!”

Skylark took one look at Arnie. “Clear the way!” she yelled.

Brightly coloured ribbons were falling from the sky above them. As they dropped closer, Arnie saw that they weren’t ribbons at all. They were feathers. They were —

“Holy cow!” Arnie said.

Skylark was already streaking clear and away to the perimeters of the sky. Arnie sped after her, spearing into the orbiting sun, and hovered. Currents of disturbed air chased after him.

“It’s the great exodus,” Skylark said with awe. “The Time of the Falling Feathers.”

Great fleets of birds were corkscrewing down through the sky. Dancing, twisting and turning, whirring and jostling, they filled the air with grandeur. As they descended, they sang their songs of liberation, melodies such as the world has never since heard. “The world is ours, sing praises to Tane for his bounty —”

“Let’s follow them,” Skylark said.

She dived after the birds. When she had penetrated the clouds she saw that the world below was filled with light, and thousands of birds — grebes, dabchicks, pigeons, tui, pelicans, herons, egrets, shovelers, cranes, bellbirds, crakes, dotterels, plovers, sandsnipes, curlews, whimbrels, godwits, huia, greenshanks, turnstones, knots, dunlins, sanderlings, kea, parakeets, cuckoos, kingfishers — were making their way across a brilliant azure sea. Way out on point were albatrosses. Guarding the upper air was a flight of hawks.

“Hey, there’s some of my cousins!” Arnie said. Skylark watched as he joined the hawks. One in particular was very playful, and Skylark knew intuitively that she was a female. But there was no time to protest. All of a sudden she felt the buffeting of the wind.

Shadows were cast in the sky. Skylark found herself in the slipstream of some hard-pressed swans and heard them chanting: “Hii haa! Hii haa!” What were they doing? Skylark moved out of the shadows and saw that the sky was filled with hundreds of giant canoes. Each canoe was made up of groups of swans flying in close formation.

“Neke neke! Neke neke! Keep your ranks!” The giant sky-going waka cruised above and around her, making a slow descent. Across their backs, hanging on for dear life, were moa, kiwi, weka, moorhens, kakapo, penguins and other flightless birds being carried down to the Earth. Flycatchers, finches and starlings twitted and twirled among the swans, soothing their fears. Authoritative kaka, like canoe captains, shrilled their orders, encouraging the swans onward. “Toia mai, nga moa! Ki te urunga, nga kiwi —”

Skylark felt her breath catch with wonder. She even failed to notice Arnie’s return until he nudged her. “My cuzzies wanted me to stay with them,” he said, irritated she hadn’t missed him. “One of them was a cute terciel,” he hinted.

“What’s that?”

“A female,” he said nonchalantly. “But I told her I was with you.”

“You can go if you want. I can always ask for help from some of my kind,” she said. Two could play that game.

To prove her point, Skylark flew off to join some bush wrens. She assumed they would welcome her with open wings. But some of them started to jostle her and she was soon surrounded by a small group of males who were getting too close for comfort. She slapped one of the bush wrens with a wing and hurried back to Arnie.

“So what happened,” Arnie asked, pleased to see her back. “Didn’t you want to stay with your kind?”

“Hmph,” Skylark glared at him. “Men! You’re all the same.”

By this time, all the birds that had been waiting in the upper sky had been released, trillions of glittering feathers falling through the air. Some began to wheel away from the main exodus: mollymawks, fulmars, petrels, prions, shearwaters, frigate birds.

“The seabirds are claiming their dominion,” Skylark said.

Dizzy with delight, the seabirds were diving into the teeming sea, bountiful with darting fish. The albatrosses among them ceased their point duty and began to wheel away into the distance.

For the landbirds, however, the exodus was not yet over. On they flew — fantails with owls, robins with quails — towards the horizon. The smaller birds, tiring of the long flight, took respite by resting on the giant swan canoes as they continued to strain across the sea.

“Neke neke! Keep your ranks! Neke neke!”

Suddenly the swallows, which had been scouting far ahead, came streaking back from the horizon. Something was there, awaiting the exodus. The birds redoubled their efforts.

“Hii haa! Hii haa!”

Gradually, something began to appear. Something bright. Something wondrous. On the horizon something was lying like a huge smooth piece of pounamu washed by the sea. The greenstone was glowing, glorious.

“It’s Aotearoa,” Skylark said.

The sky began to sing. A great trilling filled the air, a karanga to the land. “Receive us, welcome us, open to us.” The birds announced they were coming.

“We’re almost there,” Skylark cried.

The wind came up from the south, buffeting the birds. Some were blown high and some were blown low.

The wind was cold and strong, and Skylark began to shiver

“Hang in there, Skylark,” Arnie said.

Skylark and Arnie flew onward, intent on making landfall. As they approached, the land fragmented into two main islands — Te Waka a Maui and Te Wai Pounamu. The wind increased, funnelling through the strait between the two islands. The ocean stormed through the break and, on its front, dolphins were leaping.

“Aren’t you glad we’re not on a ferry?” Skylark asked Arnie with an impish look.

A mood of anticipation came over the landbirds. They began to circle and circle in that midway place, calling their farewells to each other. Some split away, parrots and other birds, twirling like brightly ribboned cyclones, heading upward to the warmer climate of the north. The swans, however, flew their giant waka bearing the moa southward where there were grazing grounds. “Neke neke! Hii haa!”

The blue sky was a maelstrom of feathers as the birds chittered and chattered and wheeled in all directions. “Which way should we go?” Arnie asked Skylark.

Skylark hovered, unsure. She remembered Lottie’s instructions: Just head for the rainbow. But where was it?

“There!” Arnie cried. “To the south.”

Even as he pointed Skylark saw it — the First Rainbow in the World being born out of the cradle of the sea. Where it began, the water bubbled and hissed, creating myriad water spouts. Up the rainbow came, woven by those water spouts, taking colour and strength from them, vaulting the dome of the sky from east to west like a blessing.

The rainbow created a current in the air. Sensing an upward thermal, a convection current heading towards the Antarctic, Arnie sidled up, made some fancy rolls into its jet stream, and stabilised when he reached the centre.

What a show-off, Skylark thought. She wasn’t about to let Arnie think he was king of the air, so she copied what he had done and came in behind him, riding his slipstream.

“You’re learning fast,” Arnie said, and winked. He was really proud of her.

“It’s easy once you get used to it,” Skylark sniffed.

Arnie grinned at her answer. He must be getting through to her. She had accepted his compliment without biting his head off.

They were over the South Island, and down below was the Great Forest of Tane. Nothing had prepared Skylark for that first sight.

“It’s even more stunning than Hoki described,” she said.

Close up, the Great Forest was luminous, an emerald sparkling and glittering in the sun. Like Eden, the lush growing trees, palms and shrubs flowered underneath. The titan kauri were tall, triumphant. No less grand, other trees like totara, karaka and kahikatea added their majesty to the mosaic. Stitched among them were the flowering trees, the pohutukawa reds, kowhai yellows and many others, splashing the Great Forest with colours.

It truly was the wonder of the southern world. And it was breathing like a living thing. At every inhalation it rippled with life. When it breathed out, it released its heady fragrances upon the air.

Sensing they had finally arrived at their destination, the birds began to spin away in their thousands down into the Great Forest. As they descended they sang hymnals to Tane, praises to the Lord of Birds. “Thank you, Lord, for your great gift.”

Skylark and Arnie continued southward, following in the wake of the swans with their giant moa cargoes. With the thrill of excitement, Skylark saw that straight ahead were snow-capped mountains. They were like the palisades of a pah, wedged there to keep Earth and Sky apart so that there could be space for all living creatures between.

“The sacred mountains,” Skylark whispered. She would have recognised those southern alps anywhere. Excited, she flipped down, and Arnie followed her. Soon they were skimming the snow and following the contours of the mountains. “Catch me if you can,” Skylark called.

Laughing, Arnie played tag with Skylark over the alpine peaks. They rode elevator winds and skimmed the downward escalator currents. He could have caught up with her any time, and maybe given her a playful nip, but wiser counsel prevailed. Skylark was having fun and thought she was still the leader, and while she was happy there was peace on the planet.

Skylark saw a river valley cutting a pathway through the mountains.

“This is where I can give Arnie the slip,” she said to herself.

She caught a swift current pouring through it. The river ended at the lip of a giant waterfall and, all of a sudden, the ground dropped away.

“Arnie we’re here,” Skylark yelled. Her voice echoed through the well of the sky. Behind her were the twin mountains themselves, the closest point between the Earth and the moon. Below was Manu Valley. Thousands of years later, a small town called Tuapa would be built in its shadows. Ahead was the glistening sea. Somewhere to the left would be the ancestral paepae for the landbirds, the first tree that Tane had planted in his Great Forest. When Arnie stilled beside her, he pointed it out.

There it was, like a huge candelabra. And above, the rainbow.

Then something shifted, changed. It was as if the defensive system of the world, the shield that had kept everything in place, had come down. The forcefield that had been this world’s protection flickered and died. Skylark thought of the Garden of Eden: the Angel guarding the garden had walked away and left it defenceless.

Something physical slammed into Skylark and Arnie. Flailing, their heads spinning, they found themselves falling out of control. For a moment Skylark blacked out completely. Quickly, Arnie flew beneath her and managed to stabilise her until she regained consciousness.

“What the heck was that?” Arnie asked.

“I’m sorry, Arnie, I don’t know. I —” She looked up. The rainbow was on fire. The ash flaking from it, was falling from the sky. The rainbow turned ghastly white, like an after-image, and warped out of existence. In the blink of an eye, everything had altered. A sick feeling punched Skylark in the chest.

“Time has finally caught up on us,” Skylark said. “It has accelerated and passed us. Although we’ve arrived before the invasion of the seabirds, very soon the time will come when the sacred tree will catch on fire, the sky rip apart and the seabirds from the future come through the ripped sky. We must warn the Runanga a Manu.”

Arnie caught the panic in Skylark’s voice. She had spilled the air from her wings and was gliding down towards Manu Valley. They had reached the Runanga a Manu, the Parliament of Birds. Far ahead she could see the sacred tree and, yes, on every branch were the bird elders of the Great Forest. More forest birds were gathered at the base of the trunk.

Well here goes nothing, Skylark thought. She took a deep breath, hoped she could remember all the words that Lottie had taught her, and began her karanga.

“E nga manu whenua, karanga mai, karanga mai, karanga mai …”

Chapter Twelve

As soon as she returned to Manu Valley, Bella made morning smoko for Hoki, Mitch and Francis, and took it up to the cliff face. She was late with it, so when Francis saw her coming he breathed an audible sigh of relief. “You’ve arrived just in time, Auntie! If I was in town I’d have had two KFCs by now.”

“Please, Francis,” Hoki shuddered, “don’t mention fried chicken in Manu Valley.” She unpacked the food, and Francis was soon hoeing into the sausages, corned beef and tomato sandwiches, salad, cordial and, to wash it all down, plenty of tea. Hoki and Mitch, a few metres away, maintained shotgun duty, pulling the trigger every now and then. The seabirds wheeled away, enraged.

Bella gave Hoki a drink of cordial. “Thank you, Sister,” Hoki said. “It’s hot, standing out here in the sun. Did you get more ammunition?”

“Yes,” Bella answered. “I also went to see Cora in hospital. There’s something I have to tell you —”

“Oh no. Has she? Is she —”

“Nothing like that,” Bella answered. “She’s okay. But I’ve discovered something.”

“Why do I always want to duck for cover when you say that?” Hoki asked.

Bella ignored Hoki’s scepticism. “A few visits ago,” she went on, “I noticed from Cora’s medical chart that her middle name was Agnes.”

Hoki frowned, trying to make the connection. Sometimes Bella could be so difficult to follow.

“Her full name is Cora Agnes Wipani and she was born in Christchurch in 1960,” Bella continued impatiently. “Oh come on, Sister, I know you’re slow but not that slow. Our eldest sister Agnes, she was in Christchurch at the same time —”

“So?”Hoki asked.

“Agnes was pregnant from her boyfriend Darren. Remember?”

She watched Hoki’s face. What do you know, a light went on in her brain as Sister dear made the connection.

“But we were told that the baby died,” Hoki gasped. Sometimes she doubted Bella’s cognitive faculties, but this time she didn’t need Polyfilla to fill in the gaps.

“I know, but the coincidence of Cora being born in 1960, and having the same middle name as our sister — it’s not a common one, you know. It nagged at me, and I couldn’t let it go. Today, when I was at the hospital, I saw some roses that had been delivered to Cora. They had been sent from Christchurch by somebody called Florence Wipani, Cora’s godmother. So I telephoned her.”

Hoki’s eyes were as wide as saucers.

“When I talked to Florence, I knew immediately who she was. She’s done very well for herself, has our Flo. Married three times and now sits in a palatial two-storey house in Sumner. She always had a lisp —”

Hoki gasped in recognition.

“And she tried to lie her way out —”

“I’m thorry, you have the wrong perthon and the wrong telephone number,” Florence Wipani said. “Good day to you.”

“Don’t you dare hang up on me, Flo,” Bella warned. “I want some answers and I want to know them now.”

She decided to bluff. She was always good at cards, pretending she had an ace when she didn’t. “Cora needs an emergency blood transfusion.”

“The doctorth haven’t told me that —”

“It’s only just arisen this minute,” Bella said. “Why else do you think they’ve given me your number?”

“They gave you thith number? They had expreth orderth not to.”

“Cora’s at death’s door.”

“Put Dr Goodwin on the telephone immediately. I want to hear thith from hith own lipth.”

“Oh my God, she’s going into cardiac arrest,” Bella said. “Tell me, quickly, Flo. Cora’s life depends on it. Would my blood type be okay for Cora?”

Would that bring Flo out into the sunlight? Come on Flo, show me what’s in your hand.

Florence Wipani began to sob. “Yeth.”

Hoki’s eyes were brimming with tears. She was thinking of her beautiful eldest sister. Sshhh, I don’t want to wake Mum and Dad up. Darren is waiting in the car. We’re running away together. Hoki had always been sentimental. Cried over the smallest thing.

“At first,” Bella continued, “Flo was very angry at being tricked —” You and your little thithter were alwayth nathty manipulating little girlth. — “but in the end she confessed everything. How Darren had left Agnes in the lurch when she was just about ready to have the baby. How, when the baby was born, Flo and her first husband adopted her. When Agnes died, they continued to keep the secret to themselves. Over the years it just seemed easier to do this. Cora has never known. Cora’s our niece, Sister. And Skylark is the one. She’s our mokopuna.”

Hoki gave a cry of pain. She had loved Agnes so much. Then she realised what she had done to Skylark.

“Look where I’ve sent our granddaughter,” Hoki moaned. “Through the portal and back into the past!”

Hoki was shivering. She clasped Bella, her eyes wide with horror. “What happens if she can’t get back?”

“Karanga mai, karanga mai, karanga mai …”

It was Te Arikinui Kotuku who first heard the strange, unearthly, beautiful sound coming down from the sky. She and Huia had been giggling at the antics of the males, who were still celebrating their great victory in the battle of the birds. Having drunk fermented berries and gorged themselves during the victory feast, the chieftains rolled, farted, burped, bumped, fell down, snored, and sang roistering ditties about their heroic acts of valour.

“It was our leader, Tui’s, role

To lead us into battle

He called out, ‘Forward all’

And off we flew, our score to settle!”

A glazed-looking Chieftain Koekoea was wandering about, with a wing around Chieftain Teraweke. Who was holding up whom was difficult to fathom.

“Teraweke, matey, you’re the man. My goose would have been cooked if you hadn’t taken that tern off my tail —”

Across the way, Kawau was declaring eternal friendship to Chieftain Kokako when, in the real light of day, they avoided each other like the plague. As usual, Kaka was holding forth with boasts about his fighting prowess. “Did you see me make mincemeat out of those mollymawks? I felled three with one blow, three in one go —”

Chieftain Pekapeka of bats had become so intoxicated that instead of hanging upside down he was hanging downside up. As for Tui, who should have known better, he was creating a scandal with his public and very amorous display towards a young and flirtatious bellbird who came — where else? — from Te Arawa.

“Come into the trees, e hine, and let me preen you.”

Another ditty started up. This time, Chieftain Grey Warbler led the roistering crowd:

“O, then it was Piwaka’s turn

He mooned the skuas with his bum

Their faces did with embarrassment burn

Piwaka had them on the run!”

Te Arikinui Kotuku and Huia watched it all with growing disdain. “You’d think,” Huia said, “that a certain timely intervention by certain female birds had not played a crucial part in the outcome.”

“Kia whakatane au i ahau?” Kotuku trilled. “Such is the way of man only to record the achievements of man. Man’s world, man’s history.” She tossed her gorgeous head in laughter — and that’s when she heard the outpouring of continuous liquid trills spilling through the air. “Huia, can you hear that? Girls?” she asked Te Arikinui Parera, Te Arikinui Korimako and Te Arikinui Karuwae. “Can you hear what I hear?”

The women bobbed their heads, mystified. Karuwae raised a wing at the sky. “There!” she pointed.

Coming out of the sun was a strange chieftainess, a small streaked brown bird with white tail feathers. The bird was still high in the heavens but her song was like crystal, every note threaded together in a strange bell-like karanga.

“Do you recognise her?” Korimako asked Parera.

“No. I’ve never seen such a bird before. However, that karanga is in Maori, though I must admit it’s delivered with an atrocious accent. There must be long-lost tribes beyond the Great Forest.”

“Not only that,” Kotuku said, “but for a chieftainess she looks such an ordinary bird! How can such a bird make such extraordinary music? She brings Heaven down to us. Who is she? Where does she come from?”

“She might be a spy sent by the manu moana,” Parera shivered.

Kotuku cocked her head, thinking this through. “Better to be safe than sorry,” she decided.

She stood up, lifted her throat and called to the assembly. “Kra-aak. Kra-aak. Hey, Tui, e moe ana te mata hi tuna, e ara ana te mata hi aua. When the eyes of those who fish for eels are sleeping, it is lucky for all that the eyes of those who catch mullet are open. Look, strangers are approaching.”

Taken aback, Chieftain Tui turned his gaze to the sky. He saw the two strangers. What bad luck that they had appeared right when he almost had that pretty bellbird in his feathery pocket. He heard the beautiful karanga.

“Karanga mai tatou e te manu whenua e …” Like Te Arikinui Kotuku, Tui had never heard such a karanga. It carolled away in a continuous cantilena of extraordinary simplicity and honesty. It existed beyond the ordinary compass of birdsong, even defying the normal rules of requiring breath. The song was sung with such sweetness that it pierced Tui’s heart with joy and he did not want it to stop.

Kotuku caught the flash of another bird in the sky. “The strange chieftainess does not come alone,” she said. “She has a warrior — and he, like her, is of an equally unknown appearance.” She turned to Chieftain Kahu. “Do you recognise the warrior, Kahu?”

“If he was as large as I am, I would say he was a hawk,” Kahu mused, “but he is only half my size and his wings are pointed.”

He scanned the sky for the rest of the travelling ope but, no, the two birds had come unaccompanied.

“They are either foolhardy or very brave,” Tui said, “or else the warrior must be of considerable prowess. We shall see.” He called out to Chieftain Popokotea of whiteheads and Chieftain Koekoea of long-tailed cuckoos. “Kia hiwa ra! Kia hiwa ra! Kia hiwa ra i tenei tuku! Kia hiwa ra i tera tuku! Be alert! Beware! Strangers are coming! Send out your sentries to challenge them.”

In a trice, the first warrior, a perky whitehead by the name of Hore, flew into the air. Typically inquisitive, territorially alert, Hore rushed up to the strange warrior and stilled just above his head.

“Swee swee swee chir chir! Advance no further unless you can justify your credentials!”

Hore turned and spiralled, winning admiring glances from the Runanga a Manu for his fancy wingwork. But what the runanga was really curious about was how the strange warrior would respond.

“I am Arnie, Chief of Falcons,” the warrior answered. “I come with my Lady Skylark to address the Parliament of Birds, here, in the Great Forest of Tane. Let us pass, little one.” Gently, but firmly, the strange warrior made a quick jab at the capering Hore and plucked some of his bum fluff.

With a slight yelp, his breast burning red with embarrassment, Hore turned away and retreated to the sacred tree with as much dignity as he could muster. Feathers ruffled, the chieftains set up a raucous cry of anger. To treat a sentry like that, when all around him the strange warrior was outnumbered, was foolhardy indeed. Who were the interlopers? Why had they come?

“Go,” Tui ordered the second challenger, Kawe, one of the best warriors of the long-tailed cuckoo clan.

Kawe had psyched himself up to the job. Hissing, wheezing and blowing he launched himself from the sacred tree and, as he came, called out to the strange chieftainess and her warrior. “Shweesht! State your business! Name your tribe! Why do you seek to korero with the Runanga a Manu —”

Kawe planed back and forth in front of the warrior. His baleful yellow eyes glared at Arnie in anger at the arrogant manner in which his mate, Hore, had been so summarily dispatched.

“I have already stated our names,” the strange warrior responded. “As to our tribe, my lady and I come from the future.”

The future? The Runanga a Manu tried to puzzle that one out. “Have you ever heard of that tribe?” Kotuku asked Chieftain Ruru of owls.

“Noooo,” Ruru intoned. “But I would think that it was a lo-ong way away from here.”

“State your business, state your business!” Kawe screeched again.

“Our business is the business of chiefs,” the strange warrior said, “to be discussed only with chiefs of the Runanga a Manu. Be on your way.” With that, the strange warrior made a deceptive pass then turned on his back and struck at Kawe’s rump. Before Kawe knew what had happened, he was falling, destabilised because he now lacked his tail feathers.

Again, the birds of the sacred tree set up an outraged commotion. “Did you see that? That was below the belt!” Scandalised, they flew among the branches, their feathers displayed in protest. “The stranger is asking for trouble,” Chieftain Kaka screeched. “Tui, dispatch a squad of warriors to teach the arrogant cock a lesson he thoroughly deserves.”

“Yes,” other birds called. “Teach the upstart a lesson! Rid him and his mistress from our territory!”

Chieftain Kahu intervened. “No,” he said to Tui. “The strange warrior is to be admired for his valour. His business, he says, is the business of chiefs? Then let the third challenge come from such a chief.”

Ignoring the gasps of astonishment, Kahu flew up to confront the strange warrior. His flight was so quick and strong that the newcomer, taken by surprise, backed away.

“That’s the way,” Chieftain Kawau yelled. “Show him who really rules the roost, Kahu!”

Kahu smiled at the strange warrior. He made a quick feint and jabbed at him with his long legs and their clawed extensions. The strange warrior did not retreat but, instead, deflected with his raking claw. Kahu felt the thrill of admiration.

“There are not many birds who would wish to engage me,” he said. “I am bigger than you, boy, and I could quarter you so fast you wouldn’t know until you hit the ground — all four pieces of you.”

The strange warrior bent his head in salute. “I acknowledge your mana, Chieftain Kahu of Harrier Hawks, for, although you do not know me, I am cousin to all hawks and eagles. I am Arnie of the falcon iwi, knight to the Lady Skylark, who comes from the future —”

“Knight? Future? Your language is strange, sir.”

“I am my lady’s protector and although you and I are close relatives, my job is to provide safe passage for her so that she may address your Parliament of Birds. Our time is limited and brooks no delay. If you value your life, let us pass, for although you are bigger than I am, I am known as the most aggressive bird of the forest. Nor do I ever retreat from battle.”

With that, the strange warrior opened his wings and gave a cry, such as had never been heard before. “Kik-kik-kik-kik! Kik-kik-kik-kik!’

He flew directly at Kahu and, this time, it was Kahu who backed away. Watching from the sacred tree, the Runanga a Manu was stunned into silence. Nobody before had initiated a duel with Kahu. Was not the harrier hawk, with his long-winged, long-tailed, high-soaring abilities, Lord of the Skies?

“Teach the stranger a lesson! Show him who’s boss, Kahu! Send him on his way with his tail feathers between his claws!” The runanga sent their loud voices up to Kahu as he duelled with the stranger. The two birds, chieftain and warrior, darted at one another, displaying their feathers, gesticulating and uttering harsh battle cries. Kahu’s admiration grew as he realised that the strange warrior had an impressive repertoire of military responses. He met every one of Kahu’s attacks with counter-attacks of his own. He swooped, stalled, circled and raked at Kahu and, often, more by luck than by technique, Kahu found himself dancing out of the way.

It was Te Arikinui Kotuku who began to turn the tide of opinion among the runanga. “Oh, strange warrior,” she called. “Who cannot but admire such foolhardiness! Fight well, fight bravely. Kia kaha! Kia manawanui!”

Very soon, chieftains were barracking for both Kahu and the strange warrior. They loved nothing more than to see a good fight. A good challenger. A good defender. Kahu would eventually win, they were certain, but there was nothing like acknowledging the bravery of a young warrior against a battle-hardened veteran.

At that very moment, Kahu slashed at the strange warrior’s left wing and drew blood.

“Arnie!” Skylark called. Terrified, she came rushing between him and Chieftain Kahu, and the harrier hawk backed away. Blood was streaking through Arnie’s wing feathers and dripping like rubies in the air. “Arnie, are you all right?”

Arnie nodded his head. “No matter what happens to me, Skylark, you must carry on and do your job.” He turned to Chieftain Kahu: “Come on then, you bastard, if you must kill me, make it quick.”

But Skylark flew in front of Chieftain Kahu. “No way,” she bristled. “If you want to get at Arnie, you have to get past me first, you fowl piece of flying feathers!”

Kahu watched, amused. He was enjoying what was happening. He turned and lazily circled down to the sacred tree. “What do you want me to do, boys?” he asked. “Do you want me to dispatch the strange warrior?”

“Finish them both,” Chieftain Koekoea called. “Look what they did to my warrior.”

Kahu nodded. He flew back to the strange warrior and the silly brown chieftainess who was trying to protect him. He prepared to give the coup de grâce — and made a quick jab. But Skylark flew at him again.

“Oh no you don’t,” she said.

Kahu laughed and went to peck at her jugular. But at the last moment he saw the flash of something around her neck. The binocular lenses of his eyes located what it was. A claw on a silver chain.

“Who gave you the sign of the hawk?” Kahu asked, his eyes wide with shock.

For a moment, Skylark didn’t know what he was talking about.

“Of course!” Arnie yelled. “You’re still wearing Auntie Hoki’s pendant.”

May this claw protect you in whatever you do, Hoki said. Should you ever be in danger, let all feel my fury.

Yes, Skylark thought. She looked straight at Kahu. “The sign was given to us by Auntie Hoki and she’ll be really cross if you harm one feather of Arnie’s head. She gives protection to the hawk clan. I ask, in her name, that you grant us yours.”

Bewildered, Kahu backed off. He flew down to Tui, waiting on the papepae of the sacred tree. “Sir, I honour you as my leader but I am bound by the code of all hawks to honour those who bear the sign of the hawk. Ask me anything, but do not ask me to kill the strangers, because I cannot.”

“Should I send up another warrior to carry out the death sentence?” Tui asked the Runanga a Manu. “What say you?”

“If you do,” Kahu said, “I am bound by my code to fight on behalf of the strangers — and to the death.”

Tui’s beak fell open with astonishment. He looked at Te Arikinui Kotuku.

“Oh, why do men always turn to women when they can’t figure anything out for themselves?” Kotuku sighed. She stood on her beautiful long legs, struck a pose, and then plucked a green twig from the sacred tree.

“Take this leaf up to the strange chieftainess and her warrior,” she said.

Immediately there was a clamour from the Runanga a Manu. Thunderous cheers followed Chieftain Kahu as he mounted the sky.

“Do you come in peace?” Kahu asked the strangers.

Skylark looked at Arnie and nodded. “Yes,” he said.

“Then accept the token of peace,” Kahu answered.

He let the green twig fall from his claws. Despite his wounded wing, Arnie spilled, zoomed down, rolled under and, putting on a show, used his hind claw to snatch the twig a few centimetres from the ground.

The Runanga a Manu burst into thunderous applause and began a haka powhiri, a dance of welcome. “Toia mai,” they called, “te manu! Ki te urunga, te manu!” They watched as the strange chieftainess and her warrior, led in by Kahu, flew down to the sacred tree and took the branch reserved for visitors.

“Who taught you how to do all that warrior stuff?”

Skylark fluttered down to the paepae and Arnie followed her.

“I was the leader of the kapa haka group at Tuapa College,” Arnie answered. “We won the South Island secondary school championships. I’ve even got a trophy at home for being best haka captain.”

“And what was all that ‘I am knight to the Lady Skylark’ business?” Skylark regurgitated a seed and spat it at him. “Yeecch!”

“I had a teacher who believed that the world of birds was a world of chivalry. He showed me the formal ways the birds conducted their relationships. The way they do battle is long, elaborate and characterised by a great deal of knightly interplay. Their codes of honour are similar to the Knights of the Round Table at the court of King Arthur. When they mate, it’s like watching a courtly dance.”

“Don’t get carried away now,” Skylark interrupted. “What’s your point?”

“When in birdland —” Arnie shrugged — “do as the birds do.”

He noticed that the Runanga a Manu was quietening, settling down. In every branch, every chieftain and arikinui with the gift of flight was waiting, expectant. Down on the ground, the wingless birds settled themselves in the grass.

“So how are you going to do this, Skylark?” Arnie asked.

Skylark’s heart was beating fast. She should have been prepared for this, but now that the time had come for her to do what she’d come to do, all she wanted was get the blazes out of there. But that wouldn’t do her mother any good. She’d have to make her mind up — and fast. Already, Chieftain Tui had taken the branch reserved for speechmaking.

“Ki a korua, nga manuhiri,” Tui began. “Welcome, our visitors from afar. You say you have come to deliver us a message? Korero, korero, korero.”

“Yes,” the assembly chorused. “Speak, speak, speak.”

Tui flew back to his branch. With discomfort, Arnie realised that all the chieftains and arikinui were looking at him to respond. Would Skylark understand why?

“Do you want me to do the talking for you?” he asked Skylark. “It would be better if I did.”

But protocol was the least of Skylark’s concerns. She was in the spotlight, and it was time to act. She took a deep breath and opened her wings. “Here goes nothing,” she said. She looked at Arnie. “I’ll just have to wing it.”

With that, Skylark flew down and took her place, alone, on the branch reserved for speechmaking.

“E nga reo, nga manu, nga rangatira, tena koutou katoa,” she began.

Immediately there was a storm, a commotion. “Oh no,” Arnie groaned. “Out of the frying pan and into the fire.”

“A woman standing to speak?” Chieftain Kea screamed, attacking the bark with his beak. “The stranger tramples on the kawa, the customary practices of the manu whenua.”

“Ae! Ae!” agreed Chieftain Kakapo. “Wring her neck! She tries to be a cock when she is only a hen!”

Skylark staggered under the weight of the tumult. Chieftain Kawau left his perch to attack her. “Our protocol is sacred! How dare you demean it.”

“Don’t shoot me, I’m just the messenger, “Skylark cried.

Seeing her so defenceless, Arnie flew down beside her, glaring, displaying his wings and strength, fighting Kawau off.

“Kik-kik-kik-kik! Keep away. Kik-kik-kik-kik!”

“I’m sorry, Arnie,” Skylark called. “I should have remembered —”

“That’s okay,” he replied. “But I’m afraid our credit rating just went down and our card is out of funds.”

A dark shadow cast itself across Arnie’s right shoulder. He was busy defending Skylark from Kawau but even so he tried to do a backward-kick boxing move he had learnt at the gym. Too late — a huge white kotuku landed on the branch. Her beak flashed like a razor. But what was this?

“Kra-aak! Kra-aak!” Te Arikinui Kotuku screamed. “I give this child the cloak of aroha, the protection of my rank. She is waewae tapu. Her claws, while she is among us, are sacred. If any of you want to take issue with her, face me first and do so at your peril.”

Then another bird settled beside Skylark and Arnie. “Is Trouble your first name, boy?” Chieftain Kahu shouted.

He flapped for attention. “The child and her warrior are under my wing also. It was I who brought them in, and like Kotuku I give the child the dispensation to stand to speak.”

Neither Kotuku nor Kahu could stop the full fury of the Runanga a Manu. “The strange chieftainess must pay for her wilful transgression,” they cried. From all branches came whirring wings, fierce beaks, outstretched claws, all intent on punishing the interloper.

“No,” Kotuku repeated. “I tell you she is waewae tapu —”

Then it happened. Something shifted. Something changed. Skylark felt giddy, sick, as she was struck by the same overwhelming sense of physical assault she had experienced when the rainbow had turned to ashes. Her head was whirling with vertigo and she would have blacked out again, except that Arnie pulled her back from the brink of unconsciousness.

“Time has accelerated again, hasn’t it, Skylark?” he asked.

Skylark nodded, trying to recover.

“Yes, but this time it’s worse —”

She heard cries of alarm coming from the wingless chieftains at the base of the paepae. They were pointing at something moving up the cliff face toward the sacred tree. It was a strange creature such as none had ever seen before, neither real nor unreal, walking as if in a dream.

“What is this giant demon?” Tui asked. “Is it a pouakai come down to haunt us from the uppermost Heavens?”

“Where are its wings?” Kawau cried. “Where are its claws? Look, it has no face, no beak, no crest —”

Skylark cleared her head. She looked at the apparition and gave a gasp.

“Do you know what the demon is?” Te Arikinui Kotuku asked.

“Yes,” Skylark nodded. “It’s Mummy.”

Coming towards the tree was Cora. But something was wrong with her. She looked like a sleep walker. She was wearing the Madonna outfit she had worn for the production.

“Skylark, don’t you understand?” Arnie said. “It’s not really Cora. As Time speeds onwards it creates these strange after-images of what is happening until real Time asserts itself again. It’s a hologram of your mother.”

Arnie was right. Even as he spoke, Chieftain Ruru flew at Cora, beak open to tear her to pieces. There was no contact. Cora’s image wobbled like jelly as he flew straight through her. The Runanga a Manu set up a cry of awe. “What witchery is this?” screamed Chieftain Kawau at Skylark. “What tribe are you from! Who are you! Kill the female sorcerer and stop her witchcraft.”

“No,” Skylark pleaded. “What happened was not my mother’s fault. She didn’t know what she was doing —”

Helpless to stop events that had already occurred, Skylark watched as Cora sat down, lit a cigarette and put it to her mouth. To the manu whenua, the action looked like Cora had made fire from a fingernail. Cora threw the match at the sacred tree. It moved in slow motion through the air.

The sacred tree burst into flames.

“Save yourselves!” Tui yelled.

The flames spread quickly among the branches. There was pandemonium as the manu whenua tried to escape. In a trice the tree had become a flaming torch, sending sparks up into the sky. Not one bird had managed to take wing. But something extraordinary was happening. Tui was still alive, looking as if he was bathing in the flames. Te Arikinui Huia, instead of being burnt to a crisp, was turning and dipping, and her wings were going right through the flames.

“How can this be?” Chieftain Kahu asked Arnie.

“The flames aren’t real,” Arnie answered. “Like the creature, they are a hologram, a simulation. They’re like the burning bush that Moses found on Mount Ararat, burning but not really burning. Have no fear. The flames will soon pass.”

As he spoke, the flames vanished. Cora’s image wavered and then it too disappeared. A hubbub arose among the Parliament of the Birds.

“This is your chance, strange chieftainess,” Kotuku said. “Deliver your message quickly before the manu whenua regroup against you.”

Skylark stepped forward and cut through the din with her glorious karanga. Even as she was singing, she could feel the sickness overwhelm her as Time accelerated again.

“Watch the sky,” Skylark called.

There was a sudden boom and crack. A seam of the sky caught fire and the sky ripped open. Giant black creatures which looked like spiders began to crawl through. Only, they weren’t spiders. They took wing as seabirds, flying out of the burning belly, heading down towards the offshore islands.

“What unholy intervention is this?” Chieftain Tui asked.

The coming of the seabirds from the future looked like a video in fast forward mode. On and on the seabirds came, spilling out in their hundreds. The sky reverberated with their menacing cries of triumph.

“Is there no end to them?” Kotuku turned to Skylark for an answer. Already the seabirds had obscured the sun, casting premature night across the Great Forest. They were spreading out towards the horizon, smothering the light.

Then suddenly Time stopped. Reached the present. Through the ripped sky slid a sinuous figure. Skylark shivered with fear.

“Kawanatanga!”

The wind turned cold and sharp. In an attempt to sober up his chieftains, Tui ordered that they all bathe under the waterfall. The brisk water flowing from the snow-covered mountains certainly had the desired effect, shocking the chieftains into sobriety and to focusing on this new and ominous threat.

Tui called them to order. “I am reconvening a Council of War,” he declared. “Chieftain Ruru, we will again need your advisory skills. Chieftain Kawau, the new battle will no doubt be fought again over your inlet, so we will need you to do a ground plan. Chieftain Kuku, Chieftain Kaka, Chieftain Pitoitoi and Chieftain Koekoea, please step forward. You all commanded the front-line troops in the first battle; we will need your leadership skills for the second. And Chieftain Kahu, your long-range surveillance will be invaluable to us.”

“May I speak?” a young voice intervened. It was Piwakawaka II, son of the valiant Piwakawaka who had died in the first battle of the birds. “My clan wishes to be involved in the second fight that is to come and to take revenge for the death of our father.”

“Of course,” Tui said. “Is everybody agreed? Do I have your approval that the son of Piwakawaka should take his father’s place among us?”

“Ka tika,” the chieftains nodded. “Yes, agreed.”

“As usual, not a woman among them,” Te Arikinui Huia muttered as the chieftains huddled in conference.

Meantime, other members of the Runanga a Manu had gathered around Skylark and Arnie. They were intrigued by the strangers and wanted to know more about them. “Ko wai koe?” they asked. “No hea koe? What is your genealogy? Where are you from?”

“My species originates from Europe,” Skylark answered, “but was also found in Asia. We weren’t introduced to Aotearoa until the 1860s.”

The young female birds, and especially Kahurangi, Chieftain Kahu’s lithesome daughter, found Arnie particularly interesting. Indeed, Kahurangi was becoming quite hormonally distressed. Arnie’s body-building physique had made him a strong, tough-looking falcon with spectacular musculature. Not averse to attention, he was striking poses, isolating and flexing the various muscle groups, pumping them up until they popped and sizzled. The young females poked and prodded him.

“What kinds of food does he eat to get a body like that?” Te Arikinui Huia asked.

“Raw steak, eggs, vitamins and energy drinks,” Skylark said.

Huia was dumbfounded. “Some of those foods are unfamiliar to me, but he eats eggs?”

“You mustn’t worry,” Skylark said. “He only has them sunnyside up, so you’re perfectly safe.”

She could have made a more sarcastic comment but Chieftain Tui called everyone to attention. He flashed his mazarine cloak, lifted his head and, white collar bobbing, trilled:

“Whakarongo ake au ki te tangi a te manu nei, tui! Tui! Tuituia!”

There was a hush. The other councillors of war took their place beside Tui to underline the fact that what he was about to say had arisen out of group consultation. Their demeanour was serious. Tui cleared his throat.

“Oh save the dramatics,” Kotuku said, “and get on with it, Tui.”

“Friends, nobles, countrymen,” Tui began, “we face again the threat of war, and we thank our two strangers, the Chieftainess Skylark and her warrior prince Arnie, for their long journey to warn us of the coming of seabirds from the future. As we have all seen, these reinforcements are of such number as to tip the balance of any second battle in their favour.”

The parliament warbled, whistled and chirruped with concern. Chieftain Titi was particularly agitated and took the opportunity to get into a close conference with Chieftain Kaka.

Tui turned to Skylark. “We seek more information from you, Chieftainess, before we come to any decision as to how to respond to the current threat. We have already won the battle at Kawau’s inlet. Did not Karoro flee the field? With his departure, did not Karuhiruhi sound the retreat? Why is it that we must fight this battle again? There is no logic to it.”

Skylark breathed deeply. She knew what she would say would hurt Tui, but there was no alternative except to tell the truth.

“Sir, the Lord Tane has given the seabirds a second chance.”

“But what is the reason?” Tui asked, trying to comprehend. “The Lord Tane has always favoured us.”

“I mean no offence to you,” Skylark answered, “but following your victory you forgot to make appropriate sacrifice to him, the very Lord Tane, who gave you your win.”

Te Arikinui Kotuku gave a gasp. “Of course, that’s the matter that has been troubling me —”

Tui blanched. “Stronger chieftains than you have made such accusations about me and lost their lives for it. But your truth is straight and I acknowledge the fault.” His face grew grim.

“It is no one individual’s fault,” Skylark answered. “A chapter of accidents has brought this about. For instance, my mother, in the future, could be said to have been the one to have caused this too. After all, it was she who, by her careless act, set fire to the sacred tree and led to the sky ripping open.”

She turned to the councillors of war.

“Sirs, please forgive my mother.”

“Yes, yes,” the chieftains responded. And that was that. Agreed. Done.

“I can’t believe it was so simple,” Skylark said, astonished.

“They have more important things on their mind,” Te Arikinui Kotuku answered with gentle sarcasm. “Once talk of battle is engaged, the cock is unconscious of anything else.”

“But that means I can go home now,” Skylark said.

Not quite. The chieftain looked at Skylark and then at Arnie, unsure of how to proceed.

“Chieftainess,” Tui coughed, “may I have your leave to discuss with your warrior escort the military disposition of the new seabird reinforcements?”

“You may,” Skylark answered with as much dignity as she could muster.

“Thanks, Skylark,” Arnie said. “I know more about these matters than you do and —”

“Oh give it a rest,” Skylark hissed as she stamped on his feet.

Oblivious to her and Arnie’s needling, the relieved chieftains turned to Arnie for intelligence about the new arrivals. “Brave warrior,” Chief-tain Kahu asked, “what can you tell us about these new seabird reinforcements?”

Arnie stopped hopping around, and pondered his reply. He could have tempered his advice but he didn’t. “The birds from the future are like nothing any of you have ever seen before. They are stronger, more ferocious than Karuhiruhi and his iwi. They are bigger birds with sharper beaks —”

“You keep talking about this thing — the future,” Chieftain Kawau spat with irritation. “What place is that? Is it further away than China?”

“It is not a place,” Arnie explained, “but rather a Time that is still to come. It lies beyond more birdsong mornings than you have ever dreamed of. To get there you would have to fly over a thousand dawns, even more years, and you would still not reach it.”

“Beyond a thousand birdsong mornings?” Kawau said. “You speak of things beyond our comprehension.”

Chieftain Piwakawaka interrupted him. “And what is in the future that gives the new seabird reinforcements such a size advantage, sir?”

“Well, for one thing, the food is better and more plentiful,” Arnie said. “Man has created a rubbish tip of the earth.”

“Man? What is that? Who is that?” Chieftain Koekoea said. “All you say sounds very odd to us. None of it makes sense —”

“What does make sense,” Kahu chipped in, “is what warrior Arnie has pointed out: the size of these new seabirds. Surely that is the reality of what we are faced with. Already our landbirds are becoming nervous —”

“That was because in the past God was on our side,” Ruru hooted, striking a note of doom and gloom. “Now we are being punished.”

“Yes, it’s all my fault that the Lord Tane is angry with us,” Tui said. “I have been too arrogant.”

“And because of it,” Chieftain Popokotea added, “God has taken the side of the seabirds, and we are lost.”

The korero was spiralling downward. Arnie realised it had to be stopped. “No,” he said. “This is all defeatist talk. You are thinking about losing the battle before it has begun.”

The runanga murmured in fear and indecision. Growing hysterical, Kawau intervened again. “How do we know you are not infiltrators or agents for the enemy? Are you pretending to be on our side when, in truth, you are not?”

“What a ridiculous accusation, Kawau,” Kotuku scoffed. “Look at them! They are not spies. They are landbirds.”

At that moment, Chieftain Titi coughed for attention. Both he and Chieftain Kaka stepped forward. “We have already suggested a treaty once,” Titi said.

“Not that old idea,” Kotuku sighed.

“Might not a treaty work this time?”

Arnie’s look was ferocious. Titi and Kaka backed away, and Arnie softened a little. “Kind sirs, no. The new birds from the future are here with only one purpose in mind. To overturn the Great Division so that their descendants will rule the future and the world. They are determined on your absolute extinction.”

Immediately a loud hubbub arose. Absolute extinction? The overturning of the Great Division? No. No. With heavy heart Chieftain Tui pondered Arnie’s words. He took a brief moment to confer with the Council of War, then announced the verdict. “We have decided,” he said. “It shall be war, not because we want it but because we have to defend ourselves.”

A few scattered cheers punctuated the silence.

“Chieftainess Skylark,” Tui confirmed, “thank you for your message. You have given us our warning. Although the Lord Tane has deserted us, let us pray that he will forgive us and return to us the mantle of his protection. Let all birds of the forest rest tonight and prepare for the morrow.”

The meeting broke up. Arnie turned to Skylark.

“Well, we’ve done our job,” he said. “You’ve obtained forgiveness for Cora and we’ve delivered our message about the seabirds. I know you want to go home now.”

But Skylark knew that Arnie’s heart wasn’t in his words. He had a mournful hang-bird look on his face and he kept on kicking at the paepae and glancing back at Kahu and the other chieftains as they planned the following war. Man oh man, how he wanted to be part of it. But he had promised Auntie Hoki he would look after Skylark and, like it or not, his job wouldn’t be over until he delivered her safely back to Tuapa.

Skylark did some quick thinking. Although she really wanted to get back to Cora as soon as, the problem was that Arnie had entered the equation. Without a doubt she would never have been able to make it this far without him, so didn’t she owe him one? Not only that, she also sensed in him some common ground.

There are solitary places in your heart, Arnie, she thought to herself, just as there are in mine. They have kept us both confined in the world of the ordinary. But does that mean we can’t dream? Does that mean we can’t find some extraordinary challenge in our ordinary lives and prove to ourselves that we can meet them? I’ve had my chance to do something amazing, something that other people only dream of and —

Skylark made up her mind. It was Arnie’s turn now.

“You know, Arnie,” she began, “We’ve actually got three days left before we need to go back through the Time Portal —”

Arnie’s eyes grew wide, but he was wary of the thought behind her words. “Don’t do this to me,” he said. “Don’t hold out something to me that you can’t follow through on.”

“I’m serious, Arnie,” Skylark said. “There’s a very good reason why we should think of staying for a while.”

Arnie’s heart began to beat fast. This can’t be Skylark speaking, he thought to himself. This is the girl who always wants to be the boss, in control, the one who brooks no argument. What she says, goes.

“Think about it,” Skylark said. “You know more about Kawanatanga and his cohorts than anybody here. You’re the warrior from the future with the knowledge of advanced technology! And you have army experience too. Can’t you see? You’ve already become their leader. They trust you and they need all the help they can get. You can’t leave now and miss all the fun and —”

Arnie gave a cry of joy. Skylark was acknowledging him as a partner, not just the sidekick. She was telling him that she wasn’t the only one who mattered; he did too.

“Thank you, Skylark,” he said. “Nothing would make me happier than to stay around and help the manu whenua.” He grabbed her in his wings and waltzed around the branch with her.

“Puh-lease, Arnie, get off me, “Skylark laughed. “Don’t make a federal case out of it.” Arnie took off after Chieftain Kahu to tell him the news. Watching his excitement, Skylark congratulated herself for having reached right to the centre of his action-movie heart and making his day.

“Yes, Arnie,” she said, “this is your chance to become the hero you’ve always wanted to be. Go forward, follow in the footsteps of your namesake. Fight for truth and justice and save the world. You are indeed the knight who appears at the eleventh hour.”

And after all that, it was only logical that Chieftain Kahu would nominate Arnie to the Council of War as chief strategist.

“Chieftain Arnie is the only one among us who knows about these new seabirds from the future,” Kahu argued. “He knows how their minds work, their strengths and weaknesses. We can provide the troops, but he can devise the best strategy by which we can win the day.”

“I’m not so sure,” Chieftain Kawau answered. “We’ve always fought our own battles. We’ve never needed strangers to help us.”

“Pull your head in,” Chieftain Tui interrupted, irritated at Kawau’s continuing suspicions. “What Kahu proposes makes sense. Chieftain Arnie’s prior knowledge and experience of the new seabird reinforcements will give us the edge. And you, Kawau, should be be the first in line to thank Chieftain Arnie for his offer to stay because tomorrow, if we fail, your inlet will be the first to be pillaged.”

The vote was taken and Arnie was in.

“Let’s get operational,” he said, spitting on his wings and rubbing them together. “I want a squad to go out with me on a surveillance mission tonight. He titi rea ao ki kitea, he titi rere po e kore i kitea. The muttonbird which flies by day is seen, but the muttonbird that flies at night cannot be detected.”

“Tonight?” Tui asked. “But we never fly at night —”

Luckily, no muttonbirds were there to hear Tui, but, “Excuse us,” said an offended Chieftain Ruru of owls and Chieftain Pekapeka of bats.

“I will need your eyes and your sonar,” Arnie said. “Chieftain Kahu, will you also join us with your best warriors?”

“What is the purpose of the mission?” Kawau asked, as argumentative as ever.

“We must ascertain the size of the enemy force,” Arnie answered. “Once we know how big the threat is, the better we will be able to mount our defensive networks against it. We will leave under cover of dark, immediately after sunset birdsong.”

He left the council meeting and went to see Skylark, who was with Te Arikinui Kotuku. As soon as Skylark saw him approaching, she knew that Arnie was growing into his role.

“I’m taking the boys out on a reconnaissance mission tonight,” Arnie said. “Do you mind? I’ll be back soon.”

Skylark couldn’t resist kidding him. “Yeah yeah,” she answered, rolling her eyes. “I know this script. This is the scene where the hero says goodbye to the little lady before he gets on his starship and thunders off into space. A boy’s gotta do what a boy’s gotta do.”

Arnie gave her a wide grin. “I should have known you were on to me,” he said. “But I wouldn’t get too far ahead if I were you.” He flew back to talk to Chieftain Kahu, who was speaking to his daughter, Kahurangi.

“You’d better watch out, Skylark,” Kotuku said. Kahu was pushing his beautiful daughter, Kahurangi, forward. “You have competition.”

“Arnie and I are not together,” Skylark said.

“You’re not?” Kotuku teased. She watched Skylark’s face as Kahurangi placed a small lizard in front of Arnie.

“A small token of my esteem,” Kahurangi simpered, batting her eyelids for all they were worth. “Please accept it, strange heroic warrior from the iwi of the future.”

“Gee, thanks,” Arnie said as he swallowed it.

“Gross,” Skylark said.

Now, Kotuku wondered, was Skylark’s disgust to do with the lizard or with Kahurangi’s obvious advances?

“Time to rock and roll,” Arnie said.

All the long afternoon, formations of seabirds had been practising military manoeuvres over the offshore islands. The landbirds’ evening birdsong was muted. Now, darkness was falling and, under its cover, Chieftain Pekapeka and his best bat warriors left their underground caverns to rendezvous with Arnie at the neck of Manu Valley. One minute the branches around Arnie, Chieftain Tui, Chieftain Kahu and Chieftain Ruru were empty. Next minute, bat warriors were settling softly like sinister dreams.

“I hate it when they do that,” Ruru said, shivering. “Couldn’t they knock?”

“What is your command, Chieftain Arnie?” Pekapeka asked, his face twitching with anticipation.

“Your mission, should you decide to accept it,” Arnie said, “is to scout the area between here and the offshore islands. If the seabirds see you they won’t worry because, after all, are not bats creatures who fly in the night? On your report that the air is clear, I will begin our operation.”

With whistles and clicks, Pekapeka ordered his bat scouts to take wing. Soon, they were flapping silently into the air away from Manu Valley. Pekapeka began to scan the sky with his sonar. He had flown the area many times before and recognised the familiar contours of the valley which bounced back to his receptors: the forest below, the waterfall, the river, the lowland leading to the coast. Ahead should be the sea and the three offshore islands. Two were nesting places for the seabirds where they had established their rookeries and nurseries. The third was topped by Karuhiruhi’s fortress. Even as Pekapeka approached he could hear the seabirds at haka, feasting and carousing before the battle to come. “Ka mate, ka mate, ka ora ka ora …”

Pekapeka could also smell the smoke of many cooking fires. But where was the sea? It had disappeared, and instead a solid mass presented itself to his sonar. Something was wrong there too: the mass seemed to be moving.

Puzzled, Pekapeka issued an order to his scouts. “We must grid the area. How far out to the horizon does this new mass extend? Find where the sea begins again.”

Ten minutes later, whistling through the night, Pekapeka reported back to Arnie. “Chieftain Arnie, the seabirds are celebrating on their offshore islands.”

“Karuhiruhi must be overjoyed to see his descendant, Kawanatanga.” Arnie said.

“The seabirds are so confident of victory tomorrow,” Pekapeka continued, “that they have not posted sentries. The sky is clear. However, I must report that the sea seems to have receded from the land. Where the coastline once existed, there is no coastline, nor could we find the new coastline.”

“How can there be land where there was once sea? How can this happen within the space of a day?” Chieftain Ruru asked.

Arnie digested the news, puzzling over it. “All will be made clear when we are airborne,” he said. “Timata.”

He launched himself and gaining the air, waited for Kahu, Ruru of owls and their warrior scouts — a group eight in all — to join him. Kahu’s impetuous warriors were already climbing higher.

“Come back,” Arnie called. The moon had come out, a huge wan eye flooding the sky. “Your silhouettes will be seen against the moon. Stay close to the ground, follow the contours of the land and hide against the darkness where we will be invisible. Keep close ranks. Do not engage the enemy. Do not attack unless attacked. Let’s get in there, assess the situation, and get out. I want no fancy stuff from any of you, is that clear?”

“Not even one tiny aerial encounter?” a hawk warrior asked.

“Save that for tomorrow,” Arnie answered. “Chieftain Ruru, would you lead us? All birds respect the wisdom of the owl clan and know that you, above all others, are experts at low-level flying.”

“As you say,” Ruru answered.

Soundless, he dipped below foliage level, found a slipstream heading down through the Great Forest and planed into the centre of it. Arnie, Kahu and the hawk warriors followed him, cursing whenever they flew into overhanging branches.

“You boys would wake the dead,” Ruru sighed.

Ruru reached the neck of Manu Valley, where the lowland began. Arnie braked and used his binocular vision. “There before us is the reason why the sea has become solid.”

By moonlight, an extraordinary and chilling vista presented itself. For as far as the eye could see, seabirds smothered the sea — albatrosses, mollymawks, fulmars, petrels, prions, shearwaters, gannets, boobies, pelicans, shags, tropicbirds, frigate birds and skuas — a presentiment of ominous power.

“What is this unholy vision?” Ruru asked. “It looks like a Sea of White Feathers.”

“Aha,” Arnie said as he recognised Ruru’s imagery. “Auntie Hoki always wondered who was the original author of the Great Book of Birds. You must be the one, and your owl clan the ones to carry the stories of these times down through all the ages —”

“There must be thousands of seabirds,” Chieftain Kahu interrupted. “Do they all come from the future, Chieftain Arnie?”

“Yes, and these are but a small number of the seabirds that now ravage our world.”

“How can that be?”

“The world of the future has become a rubbish dump. The seabirds are the ones who have most benefited by this. They are the great scavengers of the Earth. Come on, follow me —”

“What do you intend to do?” Kahu asked.

“We must fly across that Sea of White Feathers and make an accurate count of the seabird numbers.”

“It will be suicidal,” Kahu said. “As soon as the seabirds see us, they will rise up and kill us.”

“There’s no way out of it,” Arnie answered. “Without good intelligence we cannot mount a defence to match. Trust me, Chieftain Kahu, I know what I’m doing. When I was in the Army I learnt a thing or two about camouflage. See the moon? As we fly across the sea, it will light our backs, but all the seabirds will see will be our shadows. Although our configuration does not match that of gulls, they will assume we are seabirds.”

Before Kahu could argue, Arnie turned to Ruru. “I will rely on you to do the count. Let’s go. Neke neke.” His strategy was to keep the surveillance team on the move. If they had the chance to think about what they were doing, they could take fright, make a false move and destroy their cover.

The surveillance team had good reason to be afraid. The seabirds were yelling, jostling, laughing with each other over the battle that would come with the dawn. Their voices rose up to Arnie and his team with chilling clarity:

“Just think, my brothers, tomorrow we shall rule the world.”

“We shall divide the spoils amongst us.”

“Kawanatanga has promised me and my recruits all the lands to the east.”

“For my support, he has told me I can divide the lands to the south amongst my iwi. We are looking forward to feasting on the flesh of the landbirds.”

The air was filled with hissing and boasting. Chieftain Kahu was aghast. Until that moment he had been unaware of the seabird’s real intent.

“The seabirds from the future are mercenaries,” Arnie said. “They are piratical. They are a military nation of great intelligence. It is not to be wondered at that their whole purpose in life is conquest. Thousands of years of living with man has given them an accumulation of greater cunning, greater hunting skills, greater practice in killing. To you they will seem to move faster than any bird should move. They will seem like terminators of supernatural strength. Keep in formation now. Neke neke.”

It took nerves of steel to fly back and forth over that unholy sea. Some of the young hawks under Chieftain Kahu’s wing were sweating and beginning to break under the pressure. One of them let out a squeal of suppressed fear, drawing the attention of an alert seagull.

“Who goes there?” he called.

“At ease, Corporal,” Arnie called back. “We’ve just been to the celebration at the fortress. Our general drank too much and is a little under the weather.”

Arnie was right. The seabirds suspected nothing. After all, who’d have thought that land-bound birds would have the audacity or courage to venture out over the sea? As they continued their journey, one aspect of the survey made Arnie curious. Between one of the offshore islands and the coast there was a small area of sea that was devoid of seagulls.

“What place is that?” he asked Chieftain Kahu.

“No birds ever go there,” Kahu said, wrinkling his face.

“Why not?”

“A foul-smelling substance rises to the surface,” Kahu explained. “It is black and viscous, and any bird that alights on it is immediately coated with it. Once trapped in the mire, none can escape. Even to inhale the substance can be poisonous: it can make you lose consciousness, fall into the sea and drown.”

Curious, Arnie flew over to the area to investigate. As soon as he smelt the toxic fumes, he knew what the substance was: oil, bubbling up from coastal vents. “Hey, hey, hey,” Arnie exclaimed. “The folks at Tuapa are not going to believe me when I get back and tell them about this! And Lucas’s garage is right in the middle of it.”

The survey was completed. Ruru confirmed the tally.

“Now give me the odds,” Arnie said.

“The seabirds outnumber us at four to one.”

“As high as that?” Kahu asked.

“It could be worse,” Arnie said. “But we’d better keep this information to ourselves. Let’s not worry our landbirds unduly. Chieftain Ruru, please return with the statistics to Chieftain Tui. We’ll have to try to figure ways to chip away at the seabirds and balance the odds more in our favour. In the meantime I’m going to take a look at Karuhiruhi’s island fortress.”

“I had a feeling you’d say that,” Kahu sighed.

“I have to deliver our foes a message,” Arnie answered.

“In that case, me and my boys better protect your butt!”

“Keep up if you can,” Arnie said. “Neke neke.”

He banked and, using the offshore winds to carry him, glided back across the silver sea towards the seabird islands. Very soon he was over the first of them. The mating season had just passed, and the guano-encrusted plateau was dotted with gulls’ nests and parent birds protecting their fluffy young. Further on, the second island appeared similar to the first, except that the seabird nurseries were in holes in the cliffs. Territorial roosting seagulls came out to shriek at Arnie and his squad as they wheeled past.

Ahead, on the third island, was Karuhiruhi’s pah. The jagged rim of an extinct volcano circled the island, providing an impenetrable wall of foam-smashed cliffs. In the moonlight it was like a bizarre crown of tall crags and eyries. Embedded within the crown was the pah, an astonishing creation of natural parapets, wingways and launching pads. Right in the middle was the marae atea — the courtyard — around which defensive channels had been dug. Military outworks added to the formidable defences. Hundreds of burrows tunnelled away from the courtyard, descending down to the soldiers’ barracks at the innermost core of the island.

With a hiss, Arnie landed on one of the outer parapets. He closed his wings and walked stealthily forward to take a look at what was happening below. When Kahu and his hawks joined him, they whistled with wonder at the awesome sight below. Karuhiruhi had invited all his seabird lieutenants to meet Kawanatanga, his heir from the future, and Kawanatanga’s captains. There were hundreds of them, all at attention, rank after rank.

A fly-pass parade was taking place. On the ramparts of the fortress, Karuhiruhi was standing with his consort Areta at his side. Next to her was Kawanatanga, who had been given the honour of taking the salute. Karuhiruhi was intoxicated with pride in his ferocious descendant.

“Look at the size of the bastard,” Chieftain Kahu said, noting that Kawanatanga was two times bigger than his ancestor.

It was clear that Kawanatanga had already established his powerful presence. The moonlight flashed off his carapace. His movements were mechanical, his head and arms coordinated as if by computer. His voice was huge, as if digitally manipulated.

“No doubt about it,” Arnie said to himself. “A series 4 model.”

A squadron of seabirds came spiralling down into the fortress. When they landed, Karuhiruhi called for attention.

“This is a happy day,” he shrilled. “On this day, the Lord Tane has answered my prayers and given all seabirds the chance to re-litigate the battle of the birds. Not only that, but the incredible has happened. The Lord Tane has sent my descendant, Kawanatanga, to help us and, with him, reinforcements from the future.”

Areta tilted her head in acknowledgement and gave Kawanatanga a seductive look. There was no doubting that Kawanatanga had a rampant quality that was lacking in her consort.

The seabird battalions roared and began to chant. “Ka-wana-tang-a! Ka-wana-tang-a!”

Kawanatanga elbowed his way to the front. Although he paid tribute to his ancestor, his words were double-edged, ironic. “Beloved ancestor, Karuhiruhi, I honour you and your consort and pledge to fight alongside you tomorrow. Together, the seabirds will fulfil their ultimate destiny. Tomorrow we will achieve the world’s domination.”

The seabird army erupted in acclamation, celebrating the occasion in a riotous haka. “Tenei nga manu moana hokowhitu a Tu,” they cried. “Upane, kaupane, whiti te ra!”

Arnie saw that a sacrificial feast had been prepared, and that Kawanatanga was preparing to eat a young female chick of his own kind. Flames danced in Kawanatanga’s eyeslits. Seabirds had always had a covetous nature, and once it was released its rampant force could easily turn emotions from sense to savagery.

“Bring forth the sacrifice!” Kawanatanga called. The chick screamed and struggled as she was brought to the altar. With a quick jab, Kawanatanga pierced her heart, pulled it out of its ribcage and began to eat it. Blood dripped from his lips.

That’s when Arnie launched himself from his hiding place. His appearance was so swift and dramatic that the seabird army was stunned into silence.

“Kik-kik-kik-kik,” Arnie screamed. “Kik-kik-kik-kik.” He looked like an avenging demon, a threatening adversary slicing the full-bellied moon.

“Who is that?” Areta asked Kawanatanga, leaning into him.

Kawanatanga recognised Arnie immediately.

“Another bird from the future,” he sneered. “But he is of no consequence to us.”

Arnie glared down. Contemptuously, he turned his bum to Kawanatanga and delivered his message.

A long white string of crap arced through the air, splattering Kawanatanga and the sacrificial victim, who still shuddered in her death throes.

With supreme insolence, Arnie retreated, his squad with him, spearing into the moon.

“Neke neke, neke neke —”

When his squad returned to Manu Valley, Arnie reported to Chieftain Tui and the Council of War. Tui received the intelligence with a grave demeanour.

“Let’s draw up a battle plan for tomorrow,” he said. “We will need to plan it to the last detail.”

It was well into the night before Arnie was able to slip away. He was pleased to see that Skylark had waited up for him. She and Te Arikinui Kotuku had been tending to small chicks in the nurseries, trying to soothe their nightmares of bogeybird, ghosts and demons.

“You’ve only got a couple of hours sleep,” Skylark said. “How will you be able to manage?”

“I’ll be okay,” Arnie said, “though I must say I wouldn’t mind an energy boost.”

Skylark could tell Arnie was very worried.

“What I really need is a few aces up my sleeve. Something that the seabirds will be unprepared for.”

“I can get you a couple,” Kotuku said. “Leave it to me.”

Arnie smiled, not taking too much serious notice of Kotuku’s offer.

“If only I could phone home,” he said.

“What would you ask Mother Ship for?”

Arnie shrugged his wings. Then he grinned, lifted his beak and screamed out as loudly as he could: “Mother Ship, are you there, Mother Ship? Heeelllllppp!”

Chapter Thirteen

From the kitchen window, Hoki could see the hawk clan, still keeping up a first line of defence against the seabirds as they ascended into Manu Valley. “Fight hard, my friends,” she prayed.

Hoki could also make out Bella and Mitch, at work on top of the cliff where the sky had ripped. Above them the seabirds whirled like demons. Now that Kawanatanga had gone through, they were in a hurry to join him. They divebombed the rip like birds on a suicidal mission. Some were killed or wounded by the gunshots, but many were getting through. It was now or never. The battle on the other side of the sky was imminent.

Hoki and Francis were on the next shift. Francis was still in the bathroom combing his long hair and doing whatever teenage boys do in front of a mirror. “Will you hurry up in there!” Hoki yelled. As if he would meet a girl up here, for goodness sake. She twirled her thumbs as she waited for him to come out and help her carry the morning tea up to Bella and Mitch. Despite her impatience, she and Bella were enjoying male company — it prevented them from pecking at each other — and she would miss Francis when all this was over.

Over? Hoki shivered at the thought of what “over” might mean. Either the landbirds would lose their second battle. Or they would win.

She was jolted out of her reverie by the sound of the telephone.

“Hello? Is this Bella or Hoki?” The voice on the other end was unfamiliar.

“Hoki speaking, and who are you?”

“You don’t know me, but my name is Lottie and I’m ringing from Nelson. I haven’t got much time because the cops are after me. I just managed to get out of the house in time. I’m on my way to hide out on the West Coast and I’m calling from a telephone box.”

No wonder she talked so fast.

“I’m Deedee’s granddaughter,” Lottie explained. “I’m the one who’s taken over the guardianship of the Great Forest of Tane in this region.”

“Is Deedee dead?” Hoki felt a rush of tears. “Why didn’t anybody tell us?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why you weren’t informed. But perhaps we can talk about that another time.”

She was interrupted by a noise in the background. “Hurry up, Lottie,” Quentin called. “There’s an all-points alert out for us on the police network. We gotta go.”

“I thought you should know,” Lottie continued, “that Arnie went with Skylark.”

“I thought he had,” Hoki said. “He wasn’t supposed to.”

“No? He had the claw, the beak and the feather. Ah well, it’s too late to bring him back. Anyhow, just as me and Quentin were leaving the house this morning, I heard Arnie’s voice. Don’t ask me how these things happen, but I think he was trying to get a message through to somebody. He was saying something that sounded like, ‘Mother Ship, are you there, Mother Ship?’”

Hoki gave a gasp of excitement. “What was the message?”

“It sounded like —” Lottie made a guttural cry, imitating a falcon. The sound was so piercing that Hoki had to hold the phone away from her, but she recognised it immediately. It was the call falcons made whenever they needed her.

“Did you get that?” Lottie asked

“Loud and clear,” Hoki answered.

She put the telephone down. Francis appeared, spruced up enough to go to a dance.

“Kua reri koe?” Hoki asked. “So you’re finally ready.” She loaded him down with the backpack of drink and sandwiches and accidentally on purpose, while she was helping his shoulder straps on, mussed his beautifully combed hair. Before he could do a moan about it, she also gave him the shotguns and ammunition.

“What are you carrying?” Francis asked.

“Nephew,” Hoki answered, pretended to be hurt. “I’m just a little old weak lady on crutches.”

Hoki pushed Francis out of the door and followed him up the cliff path to the plateau. Francis stood guard while Hoki laid out the kai. While they were eating, Hoki told Bella about Lottie’s call and her curious claim to have heard Arnie calling for help.

“She must have been dreaming,” Bella said. “Anyhow, there’s nothing we can do for them. They’re on their own. Whatever they’re facing, they’ll have to face by themselves.”

“Yes, I know,” Hoki answered. “I feel so helpless, so frustrated about it. There must be something we can do.”

Once smoko was over, Bella and Mitch went back down to the house for a break. Bella needed to check her traps, and Mitch thought he might go into Tuapa and see some of his mates on the wharf. Hoki and Francis began their watch on the ripped sky, firing intermittently at the seabirds, but Hoki brooded over Arnie’s message. As a young boy, no matter what trouble he was in, he had always relied on her to be there for him.

It was pure frustration that did it.

The day was hot. Hoki glared at the rip in the sky. “Oh, bother, bother, bum,” she said. She walked towards the rip, took a deep breath, balanced herself on one walking stick, gave a mighty heave and threw her shotgun up and into it. The shotgun cartwheeled through the air, went through, and there was a flash as it disappeared.

“What did you do that for!” Francis looked flabbergasted. “You could brain somebody doing that.”

“If seagulls can go through it,” Hoki answered, “so can other things.”

Francis shook his head and muttered, “Well, a shotgun’s no good without ammunition. Waste of a good shotgun.”

In a temper, Hoki grabbed some bandeleros of bullets and gave them to him. “Here,” she said. “Biff these through the rip. Don’t argue, just do it. And while we’re at it —” Before Francis could stop her, Hoki had taken his favourite penknife from his pocket. He had a box of matches there too.

“These are going as well.”

Hoki chucked the penknife and matches through the rip.

“Are you nuts?” Francis yelled. “That was my best penknife. I had to send away to America for it. Stupid woman —”

“Stupid, am I?” Hoki glared. “You’d better watch it or you’ll be next.”

Francis backed away. All Hoki could feel was just the slightest satisfaction that, at the very least, she had made an effort, crazy and futile though it might be, to answer Arnie’s call.

“I hope you like your presents, Arnie,” Hoki said.

The sun hurled itself into the sky like a fireball, drenching the sea the colour of blood. From the unholy Sea of White Feathers arose a loud screaming, cawing, hissing and squealing as the seabird squadrons greet-ed the dawn. Beaks open and wings flapping, they turned black eyes to the island fortress. Three figures appeared on the ramparts: Karuhiruhi, chieftain of seashags; Karoro, his co-conspirator and leader of the black-backed gulls; and Kawanatanga, the leader of the seabirds from the future. Immediately, the cry went up. “Kawanatanga! Karuhiruhi! Karoro! Kawanatanga!”

That’s when Kawanatanga made a big mistake. Presumptuously he stepped forward in front of his ancestor, Karuhiruhi, to receive the acclaim. “This is a fine day to go hunting,” he began, “but not for fish. Rather, it is the flocks of manu whenua that will fill our ovens tonight.”

A thunderous cheer arose from the sea. But just as Kawanatanga was about to resume he heard Karuhiruhi hissing angrily at him. “Step back, Kawanatanga, I command you to step back.” The old bird was quivering with rage, his eyes red and enormous with anger. “You are usurping my position. You may be chief in your world, but in this world I am the chief. It is I and Karoro who lead this army, not you.”

Kawanatanga tried to make light of it. “Our first argument, venerable ancestor?”

Karuhiruhi pushed past him and took the leadership back. “My descendant, Kawanatanga, has forgotten that the youngest born, even though an important person, must be subordinate to his elder.” Then he smiled forgivingly. “On one matter, however, he is right: tonight the ovens will be filled and the flesh that we taste will be birds of the land.”

The seabirds cheered louder than ever, and it was a balm to Karuhiruhi’s wounded vanity. He saw that Areta had come to the dais with his baby son in her arms. He picked up his son and lifted him high above his head. “My brothers, we fight again to overturn the Great Division,” Karuhiruhi continued. “We fight for the new generation, so that they will grow up enjoying the freedom we will surely win for them this day. This time we have the blessing of the Lord Tane, who has sent my descendant Kawanatanga to ensure our victory —”

Karuhiruhi returned his son to Areta. He motioned Kawanatanga forward. He had a magnanimous smile on his face, but his eyes were still angry.

“Bow down before me, mokopuna,” he whispered. “Do it now, so that all can see your allegiance to me. I command you to do it.”

Command? For a fleeting moment Kawanatanga felt murderous rage. How dare Karuhiruhi put him in this position of subservience. Then cold reason flooded his mind. It was imperative to show a united front. Success against the landbirds depended on it. Slowly, Kawanatanga sank to his knees, swallowing his pride as the acclamation mounted — not for him but for Karuhiruhi. Triumphant, Karuhiruhi patted Kawanatanga’s shoulders.

“Waiho ra kia tu takitahi ana nga whetu o te rangi. Let it be one star alone that stands above the others in the sky,” Karuhiruhi said.

Meanwhile, Arnie had been very busy. He had established the frontline of the manu whenua at the seaward end of Manu Valley. The command post, however, was at Chieftain Kawau’s lagoon, deep in the heart of the valley. There, he was trying to convince the Council of War that rather than wait for the war to begin they should go out and meet the advancing enemy.

“Our normal strategy,” Tui began, “has been to wait until our borders have been crossed before we retaliate. But I like the idea of a pre-emptive strike.”

“Ka tika,” Ruru hooted. “We have always maintained the defensive. Such a move, however, will take the battle onto the offensive.”

Chieftain Kuku of wood pigeons, who happened to overhear, and who never really had an opinion, added his voice to the considerations.

“He kuku ki te kainga,” Kotuku sighed, “he kaka ki te haere. A pigeon at home becomes a kaka abroad, loud in his opinions.”

“Thank you, my elders of the war council,” Arnie said. He turned and gave his instruction to Chieftain Kotare of kingfishers. “Take my command to the landbirds of the open skies, windhovers, harriers, eagles, hawks, swifts, ducks, godwits and curlews, that they are to advance to the front and await my order. All forest birds are to take up positions in a second line of defence to be activated only when the seabirds cross the border into Manu Valley. Make sure that the forest birds control their ardour. The windhovers must have a clear shot. The only way to win this battle is to maintain control and strategy. That’s how I was taught in the Army.”

“The Army?” Chieftain Kotare asked.

“Oh, it’s too difficult to explain,” Arnie answered.

“And where would you like us, oh Chieftain?” Skylark interrupted. She motioned to Te Arikinui Kotuku, Te Arikinui Huia and Te Arikinui Karuwai, all of whom were making their mock obeisances to the Council of War.

“We’re the third line defences, eh girls!” Kotuku said as she put on her battledress and armour.

“Um, thanks,” Arnie said, not knowing what else to say. Then he turned to Skylark. “Have a heart, eh? Don’t give me such a hard time. I’m trying to fight a war here, and —”

Suddenly Arnie saw something from the corner of his eye. He looked up, and his binocular vision caught a glimpse of a strange object.

“Oh my god,” he yelled. He grabbed Skylark and the three arikinui, and pulled them down to the ground.

Just in time. Hoki’s shotgun landed right in the spot where they had been standing.

“E hika!” Huia screamed “What’s that.”

“Keep down,” Arnie yelled. “There’s more incoming on the way.”

This time it was Karuwai who screamed as three more objects came sailing through the sky. For a moment afterwards there was silence. Skylark found herself beak to beak with Arnie and saw his brown and blue eyes staring into hers.

“You can let me up now,” she said to him, as Tui and Kahu came to their aid.

“Oh … sure …”

“We are definitely a crowd,” Kotuku said to the other three arikinui as they stood up. Skylark brushed herself down and stared at the objects that had almost brained her. Stuck in the marshy ground was a shotgun, rounds of ammunition, a pocketknife and a box of matches. As recognition dawned she began to hop about, giggling and jumping in the air.

“I just don’t believe it! Where did they come from?” she asked. She flipped onto her back, kicking her legs and chirruping with mirth.

As for Arnie, he was gobsmacked, totally speechless.

“You’ve had a special delivery,” Skylark giggled.

“Hoki must have heard me!” Arnie answered. He grabbed Skylark with joy.

“What’s all the fuss about?” Chieftain Kawau asked. The commotion had attracted the Council of War.

“We’ve just been sent a secret weapon,” Arnie said. “Those seabirds are in for the shock of their tiny feathered lives.”

Hoki’s gift had come just in time. As Arnie and Skylark were celebrating, a forward scout came whirring down to the ground.

“Sir, we were looking seaward when something strange occurred. A blanket made of white feathers has just lifted off the sea. What does it mean?”

“The manu moana are on their way,” Arnie said.

The seabird army lifted off. From the start Karuhiruhi and Kawanatanga became locked in a dangerous play for power. Much to Kawanatanga’s anger, Karuhiruhi ordered that he and his seabird reinforcements should bring up the rear.

“This is my fight, not yours,” Karuhiruhi said. “I will lead it with Karoro of black-backed gulls, Parara of prions and Taranui of terns.”

Karuhiruhi also wanted to teach his upstart descendant a lesson on who was the leader. It was a risky game, for Kawanatanga was clearly the stronger.

“That makes no sense, ancestor,” Kawanatanga said. “Already my seabirds, by virtue of their greater physical power, are overflying your own contingents.”

“Then keep them back, keep them back, I say,” Karuhiruhi thundered. “It is my prerogative to lead the army and for my lieutenants to avenge themselves for our defeat at the first battle of the birds.”

Kawanatanga gave a cynical laugh. “I will bide my time,” he said, under his breath. “From being your descendant, I have become your greatest opponent.”

Ah yes, uneasy lay the head that wore the crown.

Ignorant of Kawanatanga’s ambition, Karuhiruhi gave orders to Toroa. “Go ahead, my albatross friend, and be our eyes on the battle.” Then he turned to Karoro, Parara and Taranui. “Order all your gull battalions to the front.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Karoro answered. His clarion call was echoed by Taranui and Parara. “All black-backed gulls, all black-billed gulls, all red-billed gulls, come forward. Join us, our cousins, all black-fronted terns, Antarctic terns, white-fronted terns, sooty terns, white terns and all prions. We have been given the honour of leading the utu on the landbirds.”

Burning with suppressed fury, Kawanatanga wheeled away from Karuhiruhi and took up his position with his seabirds from the future.

“Have your day, old bird,” he said to himself. “Tomorrow it will be my turn.”

The arrival of Hoki’s special delivery caused a slight delay in Arnie’s departure to the front.

“Could you go on ahead to marshal the troops?” he asked Chieftain Tui and Chieftain Kahu. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

At the front, all the windhovers, the birds of the open sky, were waiting for the order to attack.

“Look!” Kahu said.

The seabird army was approaching, its frontline stretching from one side of the horizon to the other. The sight filled the manu whenua with dread.

“Their beaks are open,” said Tui, “as if they are already preying on shoals of fish!”

“We shall be overrun in the first attack!” said Chieftain Tere of swifts.

But Kahu gave them cause for hope. He noticed that as the seabirds approached, their frontline began to narrow down to a spearhead.

“They persist in their traditional strategy of a single, full-frontal attack on Manu Valley,” he pointed out.

“In that case,” Tui affirmed, “the balance of power may still be ours.”

He raised a wing for silence. His voice carried in the wind to the landbird army. “Let the seabirds know that we are not an opponent to be taken lightly.”

The landbirds set up a deafening clamour, a huge, formidable shrilling. The ruse had been Arnie’s suggestion, designed to confuse the seabird army into thinking there were more landbirds defending Manu Valley than expected. The rifleman iwi called zipt-zipt-zipt, a high-pitched challenge which jarred the air. The fernbird tribe called u-tick, u-tick. The paradise shelduck whanau set up a gutteral glink-glink, glink-glink. Overhead, the grey teal tribe had massed in a ferocious squad, adding to the din with their peculiar hoarse quack. Beside them, flanking to the left, the shoveler iwi made took-took noises.

The clamour also arose from the ground. The weka tribe called coo-eet, coo-eet. The marsh crake clan click-clicked. The kiwi whanau set up a shrill ear-splitting ki-wi, ki-wi. The bittern tribe began to boom, one of the most far-carrying of all bird sounds. They set up a competition with the kakapo clan. The kea whanau rattled, cackled, roared and yelled for all they were worth. Higher up the scale, the parakeet tribe screamed and screeched like banshees. The noise rose in a cacophony, a whirlwind wall of sound that went off the decibel range, a psychic fist punching into the approaching seabirds.

Back at the inlet, Arnie heard the distant roar. “The battle’s begun,” he said. He had set up the shotgun on a rocky promontory overlooking the lagoon and drafted Chieftain Ruru and his owl iwi to lift the shotgun into position. There, he stabilised it on a base of rocks, with the double barrels firmly pointing down Manu Valley.

Meanwhile, Skylark was supervising the females in weaving small cradles and ropes for the pulley and winch system by which the shotgun could be fired.

“I can’t stay any longer,” Arnie said.

“You can’t?” Skylark began to panic. Now that the battle was imminent she was really scared. She didn’t want him to go.

Words failed them both. How do you say goodbye when you’ve gone beyond words? There was only one thing left to do — and Arnie did it. He swept Skylark up in his wings and gave her a hug. It was quite a shock.

“Get the shotgun loaded, and if the seabirds make it past our defences, pull the trigger at my signal. Okay?”

“Okay,” Skylark said, trying to recover.

“By the way, did I tell you that I discovered oil when we went on our reconnaissance last night?”

“Oil?”

“Right there between the offshore islands and where Tuapa will be built. The stuff is just oozing out of the ground. Goodbye, Skylark!”

Without thinking, Arnie pecked her on the cheek and took to the sky.

“So you’re just friends, right?” Kotuku teased.

Arnie’s ruse worked. As the shrilling increased, Karuhiruhi quailed and called a halt on the advancing army.

Kawanatanga flew forward to investigate.

“The landbirds offer strong resistance,” Karuhiruhi said.

“No, my ancestor,” Kawanatanga answered. He saw Karuhiruhi was jittery, nervous. “Do not do as hens do and take flight at the slightest noise of opposition.”

“You were not here for the first battle,” Karuhiruhi hissed, offended at the inference that he was a woman. “You know nothing of the landbird forces.”

While they were arguing, Arnie reached the front. He took his place with Chieftain Tui, Chieftain Kawau and Chieftain Kahu and scoped the situation. “We have the advantage of the wind,” he noted. “It’s coming down Manu Valley. The seabirds will have to beat into it. Are our first line of windhovers in position?”

“Yes,” Tui nodded.

“Then lets get down and dirty,” Arnie said.

With that, Tui stood and called to the manu whenua. “Ka mahi te mea i tohia ki te wai o Tu tawake. All honour to those who have been baptised in the waters of the war god. Tukua mai kia eke ki te paepae! Let the seabirds come to the threshold if they dare! Toi te kupu, toi te mana, toi te whenua! Fight for our right to sing, for our right to hold the land, for our right to our own prestige!”

Ever the showman, Tui let his voice roll out to the horizon, echo following echo. Once that was done, he ordered the battle to begin.

“Go forth, Chieftain Whiorangi of the silver eye clan,” he said. “Do your job. Divert the enemy —”

At the command, Whiorangi flitted across that lonely sky, a small speck disappearing into the maw of the seagull army.

Karuhiruhi laughed when he saw him. “What are you doing so far from the forest and over the sea?”

“I come to give you warning,” Whiorangi chirruped. “You lost the first battle. You will lose the second. Retreat or face the consequences.”

“Ka mahi te ringaringa aroarohaki taua,” Tui called. “The wing which quivers in the face of the enemy is to be admired.”

Karuhiruhi roared with laughter. “Get out of our way, you little sliver of silver, before you become a toothpick for my beak.”

“Oh, is that so?” Whiorangi answered. He folded his wings and dropped like a stone. Only then did Karuhiruhi see that the fork-tailed swift clan, the fastest-flying and most aerial of birds, was plummeting from the highest sky. Led by Chieftain Teretere, the first squad went in, blurred lightning, with wings long and scimitar-shaped. Large and powerful, they whistled down the wind like arrows unleashed from a thousand crossbows.

Karuhiruhi could scarcely believe it. “They come to us, Kawanatanga. Who gives them such bravado?”

“It is the falcon from the future,” Kawanatanga realised. “I have misjudged him, but I will not do it again. Front ranks, prepare to engage.”

The order was given just in time, for when the swifts closed with the enemy, they used their speed to scythe through the seabirds. Those in their way were speared where they flew. Those who were alert deflected their attackers. The first blood of the battle went to the landbirds.

The second squad was unleashed. This time Karuhiruhi had his wits about himself. “Let them through,” he commanded. As the swifts arrowed closer, the front lines of gulls, prions and terns opened up. “Now close and kill,” Karuhiruhi screamed.

Trapped in a circle of snapping, ripping beaks, the swift squad succumbed.

“Never mind your losses!” Chieftain Teretere yelled from the middle of the melee. “Press on, press on.”

Kawanatanga turned to look in Arnie’s direction. “Come on, my little chickadee,” he called, “show me the stuff you’re made of.”

Arnie gave the signal for the second contingent of windhovers to go forward.

“Chieftain Kahu, it’s your turn,” he said.

Kahu nodded and with a single flap of his powerful wings took to the sky. His hawk squadron followed him, using the thermals to gain cruise altitude. Aware of the danger, Karuhiruhi ordered Karoro’s battalion to pursue the hawks and form a buffer between them and the seabird army. As the battalion did so, Karoro realised with alarm that he was being blinded by the light. He cursed that his gulls were so vulnerable. “Watch for hawks coming out of the sun,” he cried.

Too late. Kahu levelled and screamed his harsh hunting cry to his warriors. “At my command, pick your own targets and dive, dive, dive —”

One by one, the hawks banked, closed their wings, approached attack velocity and struck with hooked bill and powerful grasping talons. Flying with the sun at their backs, they swept a bloodied swathe through Karoro’s blinded seagull troops. Many were the gulls who went to meet their Maker that day.

The battle was not all one way, however. Kahu let out a cry of sorrow when he saw that two of his favorite nephews had been engaged, lost the fight and were falling headless to the earth. To his left flank, another of his lieutenants was wounded, and fighting wing to wing against four opponents.

Then Toroa and his albatross squad came whistling down from the upper Heavens — and the hawks were fighting for their lives.

Watching from the forest, Chieftain Tui turned to Arnie. “We are outnumbered. The odds are against us,” he said.

“Send in all our birds,” Kawau yelled. “Throw everything at them.”

“Yes,” Chieftain Kaka added. “Let’s do or die.”

“No,” Arnie answered. “If we lose our control we will die. Hold to the battle plan. Should the manu moana breach the windhover defences, our second line of bellbirds, parakeets and pigeons will be waiting. And if they breach that, we will have the rails, robins, fantails and saddlebacks at the third. At every seabird advance, they will find our troops. If we have to, we will field a running battle all the way back to the inlet.” He gave the signal to Chieftain Parera of ducks: “Time for you to make your diversionary move.”

“Come on, boys,” Parera quacked. “Let’s do our thing.”

Large and goose-like, the paradise shelducks took wing like bomber squadrons. Quickly they closed on the seabird front. All the way across, however, the shelducks were complaining:

“Why can’t we continue on our flight path and engage the enemy? Do we really have to pretend to be afraid and break to the right, boss?”

“We must follow Chieftain Arnie’s instructions,” Parera ordered. He kept his squadron in V-formation, maintaining their flight path for as long as he dared.

“They’re getting too close,” Arnie said to Tui.

“Now,” Parera called. In front of him was Tarara of terns.

The paradise shellduck clan stalled in the air and set up a clamour loud enough to wake the dead: “The enemy is too strong for us! They will overpower us! Head for the hills, boys, head for the hills —”

With that, Parera’s troops banked and fell away, flying towards the sacred mountains.

Elated, Tarara took the bait. “Come on, troops, they’re sitting ducks.”

“No, maintain your position,” Kawanatanga said.

But it was too late. To a bird, the terns followed Tarara’s impetuous lead. Further and further away from the seabird army they sped, gaining on the fleeing paradise shelducks. Over the flanks of the sacred mountains, around the corner they flew, across a large reed-filled lake. The shelducks descended lower, skimming the water and turned as if to make a last-ditch stand. Tarara led his terns in for the kill.

From among the reeds, the 100-strong mallard duck clan leapt up in a hail of white-feathered fury. Hissing and quacking, they grabbed the terns by throat, leg or wing and pulled them down into the water. A second contingent of ducks leapt into the fray, kicking up in single springs.

“Glink-glink,” they cried. “Come to your deaths, terns.”

“It’s a trap,” Tarara yelled. “Retreat!”

As he said the words, he felt himself being dragged down through the air. There was a splash. He tried to struggle, but it was no use. Held firmly underwater, he knew he was going to drown.

“It’s working,” Arnie said. The diversionary attacks by Chieftain Kahu and Chieftain Parera had softened the front-line attack of the manu moana. But not for long.

“Call my seashags to the front,” Karuhiruhi ordered.

Wheezing, whining, writhing, the seashags advanced like a horde of black striking snakes. With a sudden push they broke through the neck of Manu Valley.

“This is bad news,” Tui said. “Ka oti te kakati e te kawau waha nui. A shag which flies up a narrow valley cannot be turned back. Once its big throat has closed on a fish, its beak closes firm and the fish has no hope of escaping it. It will be the same with us.”

Arnie turned to Kawau. “Take a message to Chieftainess Skylark. Tell her that Manu Valley has been breached. We shall hold the seabirds off as long as possible and then make a controlled retreat. We shall make our stand at the lagoon. Tell her to be ready for my signal.”

Skylark turned her head, alarmed. Although the wind was blowing away from her, she could hear the clash of beak on beak and strike of claw against claw.

“We must hurry,” she said to Ruru.

Chieftain Ruru remained puzzled over the role of the shotgun. In following Skylark’s orders on how to install it, he had been basically working in the dark. No problem, he was used to that. Even so, he was still none the wiser about the function of the “cannon”, as Skylark called it now.

Would it work? Only one way to find out.

“Open the shotgun,” Skylark ordered.

With a sharp click, Ruru flicked the lever, and the double barrels were exposed.

“Load,” Skylark commanded.

Working in groups of four, owls placed two cartridges on the mats Kotuku and the other women had woven. Taking a corner each, they flapped their wings, ferried the cartridges up into the air and hovered over the shotgun. There, the beaks of other owls nudged the cartridges off the mats and into the two barrels of the gun.

“Close the shotgun,” Skylark said. Her voice came out as a small squeak. Her nerves were getting to her.

The owls put their backs under the barrel and raised it. Click.

“So what now, Chieftainess?” Ruru asked.

“We wait for the signal from Arnie,” Skylark said.

Hopping down from the shotgun, she checked the system of winches, pulleys and ropes which Arnie had arranged so that the shotgun could be fired. Six of Ruru’s strongest owl warriors were ready to take the rope in their beaks and pull.

But Skylark was bothered. She was sure that one item on her checklist was missing. What was it? It was something important.

Then Kawau came flying out of the sun. “The seabirds have breached Manu Valley,” he said.

With a cry Karuhiruhi urged the seabird army forward. “Charge! Take no prisoners!”

The ranks of landbird defenders buckled and broke apart.

“They’re through,”Arnie said “It will only be a matter of time before they overrun us.”

“We can hold them a while longer,” Tui answered. “Ara! Look —”

He pointed his wing at a birdfight between six seashags and three aggressive kaka; and the seashags were coming out much worse for wear. Arnie remembered Flash Harry and the kaka colony on Joe’s island.

“He kaka kai uta, he mango kai te moana,” said Tui as he watched one of the kaka warriors deliver the coup de grâce. “The kaka feeds just like the shark.”

Throughout the sky, the battle had broken up into individual and desperate birdfights: kea against albatross, shoveler against gannet, parakeet against petrel, bellbird against prion, cuckoo head to head with fulmar, crow with mollymawk. Darting in between were the valiant remnants of the swifts, joined by the smaller birds — rifleman, robin, silver-eye, thrush, tit, grey warbler, waxeye, wren, yellowhead — squeaking and chirruping, trying to divert attention so that their bigger cousins could make the fatal thrust, the lethal slice of claw or cut of beak.

Chieftain Kea and his stocky warriors were right in the thick of it. Arnie well understood why they had earned a fearsome reputation as sheep killers. This time their target was a flock of albatrosses who were braying across the sky in an attempt to shake their kea attackers off.

Elsewhere, Arnie saw Chieftain Kuruwhengi and his shoveler tribe entering the fray. Working in pairs, and in tandem, the shovelers used their speed and body weight to slam the seabirds to smithereens. Flying very fast with short, rapid wingbeats, they closed on their targets, banked, rocketed and bang: another gannet went to the Great Bird Heaven in the sky. Using similar tactics, Chieftain Kotare and the kingfisher clan joined the melee. Flying at considerable force, with a churring noise like a jet plane descending, they speared their opponents in skilful rapier thrusts of beak to beak.

But the seabirds were unstoppable. “How can you turn back the tide in full flood?” Tui asked Arnie in despair. “How can you stop a forest fire when it is raging through the trees? How can you stop the coming of the night? This is our twilight —”

Arnie sounded the retreat. He hoped that Skylark was ready.

“Fall back! Regroup at the inlet.”

Skylark was anxious. The noise of battle was drawing closer and closer. All around her, the birds who had been assigned to protect the lagoon were growing nervous. “E kui, will the seabirds kill us? Will they take us as their slaves? What will they do to our children?” Te Arikinui Kotuku, Te Arikinui Huia, Te Arikinui Korimako, Te Arikinui Parera and Te Arikinui Karuwai walked among them, soothing their fears.

“Hush,” they said. “Trust in the Lord Tane.”

“There will still be time for a treaty,” Chieftain Titi interjected. “I told you all right from the start that to fight the seabirds was the wrong thing to do. Now we shall suffer for it.”

Kotuku turned a baleful yellow eye on him. “Kra-aak. Kra-aak,” she warned, waving her beak back and forth as if she was sharpening it. “Enough of your talk of a treaty, Titi. All of you, kia kaha, kia manawanui. Have strength. Be of brave heart.”

The landbirds settled down. The robins began to sing a beautiful waiata of comfort. As the strains drifted across the lake, others joined in. With hope and faith restored, the song grew fierce with passion. Seizing the moment, Te Arikinui Kotuku, eyes blazing and feet stamping, began a women’s haka. Her strength and conviction reminded Skylark of Hoki. Things of value must always be fought for. “Ka whawhai tonu atu, ake, ake ake! We shall fight on forever and ever!”

Skylark was so stirred, she didn’t notice that Te Arikinui Huia had come up to her side. “Tell me, Skylark, you who come from beyond a thousand birdsong mornings, do great things happen to the landbirds?”

A deep pang of sadness came over Skylark. How could she tell Huia that by the year 2003 AD at least fifty of more than 100 native birds species would have disappeared? That the huia clan itself would become extinct and that the only place you could see a huia was as a stuffed bird in a museum? How could she tell Huia that the noble moa, New Zealand eagle, laughing owl, Eyles’ harrier, bush wren, New Zealand crow, Chatham Island fernbird and New Zealand coot would also become extinct? That at the very last moment the black robin, stitchbird, saddleback, takahe and kakapo would be brought back from the brink to live their lives on protected sanctuary islands?

Skylark decided to answer the question like Hoki and take the long way round.

“Great things do happen for the landbirds,” she said. “For a time, you become the rulers of the Great Forest of Tane and your progeny is as numerous as there are stars in the sky.”

“For a time?” Te Arikinui Karuwai of robins asked.

“Yes,” Skylark nodded, “until the coming of the Lord Tane’s next great creation — man. He is born far beyond the horizon and his seed spreads far and wide across the world. It is one of these seeds — that sown at Raiatea in French Polynesia — which spawns the race who eventually come by many canoes down to these southern islands at the bottom of the world. It is a bird, the long-tailed cuckoo who, during regular migratory flights from east of Fiji, leads man here. With man the birds create a partnership.”

Skylark turned to Huia. “For instance you, Te Arikinui Huia, are elevated to high status by the First Man. They call you the bird of Whaitiri. Because of your beauty, they honour you as a bird of the gods.”

“My beauty?” Huia asked. “You flatterer you.”

“Not only that, but because you have twelve tail feathers you are revered as a sacred bird. Twelve is a sacred number and you are regarded as looking after the twelve appearances of the moon every year. Your feathers are therefore much desired because they give prestige and power to the owner. They are used as barter and passed from tribe to tribe. Land, women, greenstone could be exchanged for one such feather. However, with the arrival of the Second Man, all things change —”

That was the beginning of the end of the time of the birds. This second man cut down the native forest, logging it and farming the land. He sprayed chemicals across the trees and killed off native species — birds, mammals, flora as well as fauna. He brought with him his companions — mice, rats, wild cats, dogs, stoats, ferrets, weasels, hedgehogs, possums, deer, goats and the marauding honeybee, which competed with the birds for food. When that food diminished, man’s companions turned to the eggs, chicks or the adult birds of the Great Forest. Slowly but inevitably the bird species diminished. Picked off one by one by man himself. By gun. By car. Often for the fun of it.

Man, the toxic being.

“And will this thing, this man, look like the ghost that appeared to burn down the sacred tree?” Huia asked.

Skylark drew a human in the dirt.

“What? No wings?” Huia laughed. “Where are its beak and claws? How could the Lord Tane think of creating such an ugly creature!”

“You and your stories, Skylark,” Karuwai scoffed. “They are cautionary tales of the kind mother hens tell their chicks.”

Kotuku saw the sad look on Skylark’s face. She caught the intimations of mortality contained in her words. She turned to Huia and scolded her. “You ask such difficult questions, Huia. Like all things, the fortunes even of manu whenua wax and wane. We may rejoice today but what about tomorrow? All depends on the will of the Lord Tane.”

The mood was interrupted by Chieftain Ruru who, giving the alarm, pointed to the trees. Darkness was cutting a line across their tops. “The sun is going out,” he said.

“It is a solar eclipse,” Huia gasped.

“The Lord Tane himself comes to punish us,” Titi cried.

“No,” Skylark answered. “The seabirds are coming.” She turned to Ruru. “Quick, get your warriors to take up their positions.”

Before she could draw another breath, Skylark saw the forest shivering. It exploded as manu whenua in retreat came flying through the trees and across the lagoon.

“The seabird army is not far behind us,” they cried. Some were limping. Others were ferrying back the wounded and the dead. The air was whirring and chittering as the retreating landbird army landed and reinforced the defensive positions all around the lagoon.

Oh my God, Skylark thought. It’s all up to me now.

She went through her checklist again: Angle of trajectory, check. Shotgun’s loaded, check. Barrel closed, check. Owl warriors in place, ready to pull the trigger, check. Then she remembered:

“Chieftain Ruru,” she yelled, her eyes wide with fright, “we have to cock the shotgun, otherwise it won’t fire —”

“How do you do that? Oh me oh my, what a cock-up.”

Skylark knew the fault was hers, not Ruru’s. “No offence, Chieftain Ruru,” she said, “but it would be really nice to have birds around you who understood what you wanted.”

Quickly she flew up to the shotgun. “I need another rope up here,” she said. Immediately three stocky owl warriors lifted a rope to her. She took it in her beak, but nervousness was getting to her and she couldn’t lever it over the two cocking levers. “Sometimes it is so inconvenient not to have fingers and thumbs,” she wailed.

With a roar like a hurricane, the battle between the opposing armies smashed through the trees. The wind of a thousand beating wings began to stir the surface of the lake, lashing it into fury.

“Done,” Skylark said as she finally slipped the rope into place. “Now pull!”

At her command, the owl warriors heaved at the rope. “Hii haa! Hii haa!”

Skylark took a quick look across the lagoon. Was that the war council in retreat? Yes: Chieftains Kuku, Kaka, Kea and Piwakawaka. Oh, where was Arnie?

Then she saw him.

“Arnie!” she screamed.

He was fighting a rearguard action. His opponent was Kawanatanga — and Kawanatanga was winning.

“Quickly now,” Skylark urged the owl warriors. Her heart was pumping with fright.

“Hii haa! Hii! Haa!”

It seemed to take years before the cocking lever double-clicked into place.

“Now back to your positions!” Skylark yelled.

The owl warriors scrambled over each other to return to the ropes that would pull the trigger.

Meanwhile, Kawanatanga was closing on Arnie. “I was told in that other world we come from, that in this world I would meet my nemesis,” he laughed. “I never thought you would be such a weakling. Prepare to die —”

Kawanatanga slashed with his claws. At the last moment, Arnie spun out of the way, folded his wings and dropped to the lagoon. As he did so he yelled at Chieftain Kahu, Chieftain Kawau and Chieftain Tui. “Disengage with the enemy.” He wanted to leave Skylark with a clear shot at Kawanatanga, the black bastard.

“Now, Skylark. Now.”

Skylark heard Arnie’s sharp cry curling towards her. The owl warriors were waiting, ropes in beaks, arms pumped.

“On my order, fire from the first barrel … fire!”

With an almighty heave, the owls pulled at the ropes. The trigger moved. But nothing happened. Oh no. What was wrong?

“Skylark, fire!” Arnie called again.

“It’s the safety catch,” Skylark realised. “It’s still on.”

The seabird army began cruising across the lagoon like conquerors. They reached the halfway mark, coming closer. Dreams of victory flared in Karuhiruhi and Kawanatanga’s eyes. The Great Division was about to be overturned.

“Skylark, quickly, before it’s too late —”

Skylark’s mouth was dry. She needed a drink of water. She could hardly speak. “Te Arikinui Kotuku, there’s a tiny switch up there —”

Kotuku cocked her head, saw the switch on the shotgun. She put her strong bill against it. “You mean this little thing?”

Skylark nodded. Heard the tiny click as the safety catch was unlatched.

“Fire!” Skylark said.

The shotgun roared. The owls were thrown to the ground by the recoil. Arnie ducked. A shell whizzed over his head and exploded. Pellets scattered through the air.

“E hika ma,” Ruru said, picking himself up and dusting himself off. “He aha tera? What the hell was that?”

His shock was nothing to the pandemonium in the first ranks of the seabird army.

“Get back to the ropes!” Skylark yelled. The recoil had kicked the shotgun off its cradle of rocks. Already Ruru was on the case. He knew his owl warriors were bruised, but he ordered them to get under the barrel and to lever it back up.

“Don’t worry about us, Chieftainess Skylark,” Ruru said.

“Second barrel … fire!”

Another shell left the shotgun. The owl warriors were again kicked to the ground. No time to waste.

“Reload! Reload!” Skylark screamed.

This time, the shell exploded right in front of Karuhiruhi. Caught in a hail of pellets, the only thing that saved him was a quick-thinking corporal who flew to his protection. With horror, Karuhiruhi saw the corporal’s body disintegrate. He felt a wet lash across his face and realised it was a spurt of blood from the dying corporal.

Karuhiruhi completely lost it. “The Lord Tane has returned to the side of the landbirds!” he yelled. “Retreat! Retreat!”

In fear for his life, he turned and wheeled away from the lagoon. The bewildered seabird army watched. Then, one by one, they banked and followed him. After all, was he not their leader?

“Come back, come back, you fools!” Kawanatanga raged. “We must press on with the attack —”

But from all corners of the Great Forest of Tane, the manu whenua, led by Arnie, came flying.

“Kik-kik-kik-kik! Don’t even think about it.” Arnie said.

It all happened so quickly. One moment the sky had been filled with seabirds. The next they were turning, wheeling away, following Karuhiruhi out of Manu Valley. Only Kawanatanga and his squad of seashags remained.

Kawanatanga was insane with rage. He hissed and spat at Arnie. “Next time, boy,” he said, “it will be just between you — and me.” With contemptuous ease, he flicked a wing and was away, soaring on the wind, back to the sea and the offshore islands.

On his return to his island fortress, Karuhiruhi dismissed his troops and sought the sanctuary of the royal nursery where he would find the solace of Areta and his baby son. The mood on the flight back had been sombre. Karoro, Taranui and Parara had joined him from the corners of the sky, and when they reached their destination fights broke out between those lieutenants who were loyal to him and those who questioned the order to break off the fighting. “For the second time we have flown the field of battle,” Karoro shrilled. “Yet we were winning —” Turmoil was in the air, as great as that which Cleopatra, the Egyptian Queen, had faced when, leaving the sea battle of Actium to her consort, she gave victory to the navy of Octavian.

“Live to fight another day,” Areta soothed. But she was bothered by Karuhiruhi’s obvious tiredness and despondency. With foresight she realised the psychic diminution which had come upon him since Kawanatanga had turned up. Her husband’s star was in the descendancy, and Areta suspected Karuhiruhi knew it. Visibly aged by his conscience, his mana had been tested in battle, and for the second time he had not come up to the mark. Kawanatanga’s mana, on the other hand, was on the rise. Not only that, but Areta had seen the lustful way Kawanatanga looked upon her and had felt her own passions responding. Perhaps it was time to consider, she mused, the artful and political business of changing birds, of using her feminine wiles to ensure that in the changeover she still maintained her position.

So it was that when Kawanatanga whirled down the corridors seeking the place where his ancestor had taken refuge, Areta had already placed herself on the perimeter of the nursery.

“Do not include me in any revenge you are about to enact,” she said. She gave him a sideward glance, hinting that she was prepared to consider other offers.

“You fool,” Kawanatanga raged when he confronted Karuhiruhi. “Do you realise how humiliating your running away was?”

“Don’t touch me,” Karuhiruhi answered, grabbing his son as if he was a shield. “From my child’s loins will come the line from which you are descended.”

Kawanatanga sighed. “Put the child down,” he said. “Don’t cringe before me. How do you think it makes me feel to see you hiding behind your child? The weapon that was fired against you was a shotgun, nothing more, nothing to do with the Lord Tane. Nor will it be of any use to the landbirds again, now that we know they have it. Should they fire it again, we will keep out of its range —”

Karuhiruhi heard a noise in the corridor. Areta was there, and with her were Karoro, Taranui and Parara. He realised he was without allies or friends. “How was I to know?” he whimpered. “I am ignorant of the marvellous magic that comes from the future. When it happened, what was I to think?”

Karuhiruhi hugged his son closer. But Areta made her move. She came across the floor and soothed her husband. “Give me our son, Lord,” she said.

Nodding, Karuhiruhi delivered the child into her arms. When she had him, Areta slipped past Kawanatanga, accidentally caressing his loins as she did so and giving him the glad eye. “Make it quick,” she said enigmatically.

Karuhiruhi began to sob. Kawanatanga walked towards him and took him in his arms. He was surprised at how small Karuhiruhi was. Small, ineffectual, a harmless bag of bones. “What am I to do with you, my ancestor?” he said. “All my life I grew up hearing of your great deeds. None of it is true, is it? All of it is lies. Ah well, you did your best —”

He turned quickly and kissed Karuhiruhi on the forehead. “He aha ma te rora. What use is a coward to anyone? There can be only one leader here —”

With a quick movement Kawanatanga slashed at Karuhiruhi’s jugular, and pulled. Areta watched, horrified. Her son squirmed in her arms.

“You are weak, my ancestor,” Kawanatanga said. “I must take over from you, can’t you see that?” He listened to Karuhiruhi’s death rattle, his chest heaving. Then Kawanatanga stabbed at the old bird’s breast and ripped out his heart. The blood spurted out in fast jets. Kawanatanga arched his throat, flipped the heart out of its cavity and swallowed it whole. The blood spilled out of Kawanatanga’s mouth.

Kawanatanga called Karoro, Taranui and Parara forward. “Tell the army that my beloved ancestor Karuhiruhi is dead. His consort and I are taking an appropriate hour to mourn his death. After that we will resume the battle. This time there will be no retreat.” He smiled across at Areta. “Put the child to bed, my lady,” he said. “Attend to me, for you are mine now.”

It was Chieftain Ruru, who had maintained warrior scouts over the sea, who reported the developments at the late Karuhiruhi’s island fortress.

“Kawanatanga has taken over leadership of the seabirds,” he said.

Up to that moment, Chieftain Tui had been leading the landbirds in a celebration of victory, and this time he had made appropriate thanks to Lord Tane. He realised the import of Ruru’s words and, alarmed, flew to the highest branch of the paepae. He raised his wings for silence. “We have had grave news,” he reported. “Our intelligence tells us Kawanatanga has murdered his ancestor and taken his widow as wife. Our celebrations are premature. The war is not over yet.”

“You worry too much,” Chieftain Kawau said. “I haven’t even been touched in the fighting so far.”

“He koura koia, kia whero wawe?” Tui asked. “Are you a crayfish that you turn red so quickly? Do not assume that just because we won this morning the same will be the case this afternoon. We won the battle, but we have not won the war.”

Te Arikinui Kotuku agreed. “Are you always so smug, Kawau?” she asked.

Kawau took even greater offence, and very soon a squabble developed. The raised voices escalated.

“Do something,” Skylark said to Arnie.

Arnie quickly took the paepae. “It is a proper thing,” he said, “to debate the news of Kawanatanga’s plans, but let us not fight each other. We must retain our solidarity. If we don’t, we will lose focus on winning the war. On that count, I agree with Chieftain Tui. A first win does not mean a final victory. It’s not a done deal.”

“Ka tika, ka tika,” the landbirds agreed.

“Nor should anyone think,” Arnie continued, “that the next battle will be easier than the last. The next time we’ll be fighting the birds from the future and Kawanatanga himself. They have strengths and strategies you haven’t even dreamed of. They will stop at nothing to win. All must be prepared to fight to the death.”

Chieftain Tui took command again. “In that case, tend to your wounded,” he said to the manu whenua. “Get some rest. Eat. We have gained a breathing space, so let’s enjoy it while we can. It is as like a lull in a rainstorm.”

The celebrations broke up. Skylark watched as Arnie spoke with Tui, Kahu, Ruru and Kawau on preparations for facing Kawanatanga. There was much nodding and shaking of wings — and then Arnie’s head came up as if he was looking for somebody.

“I think you’re wanted,” Kotuku hinted.

“Me? What for?”

Kotuku gave a secretive smile. She saw Arnie’s gaze light on Skylark, the broad grin of relief and happiness that flooded his face, and his eager flight to join her. However, halfway across to her, the beautiful Kahurangi somehow blundered into Arnie’s flight path and fell, prettily, to the ground.

“The brazen hussy,” Kotuku said to herself as Kahurangi accepted Arnie’s wing, helping her up. However, Kotuku’s irritation turned to glee when Arnie, unaware of Kahurangi’s obvious wiles, simply said to her, “See ya.” Either the boy had common sense or was blind or incredibly dumb. Whatever, Kotuku was very happy to see him approach Skylark.

“I think I’ll leave you two alone,” she whispered.

“Let’s get out of here,” Arnie said as soon as he reached Skylark’s side. “I need a break. Do you want to go for a walk by the lake?”

“Are you sure? You can go with her —” Skylark indicated the scowling Kahurangi — “if you want to.”

“Who? No, it’s you I want to talk to. Come on.” Skylark shrugged her wings and followed. For a while, they picked their way around the mossy edge.

“I’m parched,” Arnie continued. “Feel like a drink?”

Together they hopped towards the water, put their beaks into it, and drank. Skylark went to take a second sip, and for a moment was confronted with her reflection. She had been expecting her own face — and Arnie’s — to stare back. She couldn’t help it. She burst into a peal of laughter.

“I know the feeling,” Arnie said. “How do you like me best? As a human or a falcon?”

“I’m not sure,” Skylark answered. “You’re just Arnie. It doesn’t matter what you look like. And you’re doing a great job here, oh chieftain.”

“You really think so? That’s a big compliment coming from you. It wasn’t so long ago that we couldn’t stand each other.” He stared at Skylark with his brown and blue eyes, and she felt her heart do a little flip.

“We’ve been through a lot, haven’t we!” Skylark said quickly. “It’s not every day that a boy gets the chance to change into a bird and save the world. I mean it, Arnie, I’m really proud of you.”

Arnie bobbed his head and kicked his claws together in an “aw shucks” way. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” he said. “If you hadn’t fired that shotgun, we’d all be slaves to the seabirds by now. I knew you would come through.”

“I almost didn’t.”

“That doesn’t matter. The fact that you did it is all that counts. And it saved the day. One second more and we would have been yesterday’s toast.”

“But the seabirds will be back,” Skylark shivered. “So it’s just as well we stayed, isn’t it. You’re the only one here who knows Kawanatanga and how to stop him.”

“Actually I’m clean out of ideas,” Arnie said. “That’s why I’ve come to see you. You’ve always been more resourceful than me. You have this habit of thinking laterally. Can you think of anything?”

Skylark grinned. “Well, you could phone for help again. Who knows what else Hoki might throw through the ripped sky.” Then she grew serious. “Whatever happens,” she said, “we’ve only got two more days to do it before we have to think of returning to Tuapa.”

Arnie nodded. He heard Chieftain Tui whistling for him. “I’d better get back. But hey,” he gulped, “you wouldn’t mind taking another walk like this when we get back home, would you?”

He had nothing to lose. She’d either say yes or no.

“Sure,” Skylark answered.

Arnie tried to be nonchalant. “Cool,” he said.

And Auntie Bella said he couldn’t get a girlfriend? Ha.

He flew back to the paepae. Chieftain Tui was in deep conversation with a deputation from Chieftain Kakapo of ground parrots, Chieftain Takahe and Chieftain Pukeko.

“We may not be windhovers or forest birds, but we are here to assert the mana of all ground birds,” said Kakapo, puffing up his chest. “Just because we have no wings it doesn’t mean that we are not fighters.”

“Ka tika, ka tika,” Takahe agreed. “How do you think we feel, sitting here on the ground while the fight is happening up there in the sky?”

“In other words,” said Pukeko, “and to cut to the chase, bring the seabirds to our level. If you birds with wings can get the seabirds down to the ground, leave them to us. We’ll finish them off, eh boys?”

“I don’t know,” Tui said, unconvinced. “Are you ground chieftains suggesting that we bring the fight to our forest home? Where our nesting places are? Our wives and children? I don’t like the sound of it. No, it’s too dangerous.”

“The proposal has merit,” Arnie intervened. “The seabirds have the upper hand only when they have a clear sky to attack from or a target that is in the open air.”

“You like what the groundbirds are saying?” Tui answered.

“Somehow or other,” Arnie said, “we’ve got to beat the seabirds’ odds. This is a way of doing it. The sky is their battleground. The trees are ours. Down here we’ll have the greater advantage.” He was liking the idea more and more. “Let’s change the rules. Use the forest as a trap. Give our wingless brothers the chance to do their job. Adopt guerrilla tactics. Hey, now there’s an idea.”

“Guerilla tactics?” Kahu echoed, puzzled.

Arnie was jumping around with excitement. “They were perfected by a man called Te Kooti,” he answered. “As the seabirds advance to the inlet, we should get the windhovers and the forest birds to lure them into the forest. I know Kawanatanga and his followers. They won’t be able to resist. They’ll follow and, in our world, they will lose formation. They won’t be able to move in squads so easily. The ground birds will be able to pick them off one by one. It’s really the best chance we’ve got.”

The Council of War waited for Tui to make the decision.

“Okay, Chieftain Arnie,” he said. “You’ve been right so far. You may be right again. Let’s do it.”

And then it was time for war again.

Kawanatanga appeared on the ramparts with his new consort, Areta. “I will bring you the whole world,” he promised her, “and I will lay it at your feet.” He leapt into the air, and, as one, the seabird army lifted from the unholy Sea of Feathers. Slapping his breastbone, Kawanatanga, the new Supreme Commander, set up a ferocious haka.

“Ka eke i te wiwi, ka eke i te wawa,

Ka eke i te papara huia —

Breach the outer defences, capture the inner palisades,

storm the very centre of the manu whenua domain,

scrape the land clean of them —”

The words burst across the sky with ominous foreboding. To Skylark, Arnie and the manu whenua, the words sounded like thunder rolling from the east to the west across the sky. They were dissonant, filled with dread, skulls, rattling bones, portents of death and destruction. Some among the waiting warriors felt their bowels loosen, their courage desert them. Many would be killed this day. But what else could they do except continue to fight for their land, their hens and chicks, history and culture?

Chieftain Tui stepped forward. “Oh Lord Tane,” he prayed, “look down upon your subjects the landbirds in our hour of travail. Forgive us our past trespasses and, if it be Thy will, let Thy Great Division, which we fight to protect this day, stand forever and ever, Amine.”

From the Great Forest of Tane came the chorus, “Amine.”

There was a disturbance. Te Arikinui Kotuku craned her neck and peered across the sacred mountains. “Chieftain Arnie,” she said, excited. “I think the reinforcements I sent for have arrived.”

“They couldn’t have come at a better time,” Arnie answered. “Where are they?”

Kotuku pointed to the clouds, where a string of stately cranes was silhouetted like a kite in the shape of a Chinese dragon. As they came nearer, Arnie’s face fell. “Only ten of them?” he asked.

Kotuku chose not to hear Arnie’s disappointment. Instead, she called out to the incoming birds. “Welcome, cousins, come to ground and take your place amongst us.”

The cranes circled the paepae. They were gorgeous to look upon with giant filamentous kimono wings. They carried wooden staffs in their feet. When they landed, they prostrated themselves before the landbirds.

Kotuku introduced the cranes to the Great Council. “Sirs, as you are aware, my species is a rare one in this land. Indeed, I live at Okarito with my colony, only by your leave and the blessing of Lord Tane. But my clan is worldwide and loyal to each other. They have sent us my cousin, the Great White Egret, who lives in China. She has brought with her crack Chinese fighters adept in the martial arts.”

The Great White Egret gave a slight grave nod. “My name is Yu Shu Lien,” she said. Her voice was soft, lyrical and warm. “My fighters come from the Wudan mountains. We may not be many but we respect the ideals of honour and selfless duty. It is our obligation to support our cousin, Te Arikinui Kotuku of these southern islands.”

Kung fu cranes from China, Skylark thought. Great.

Arnie’s response, however, was extraordinary. He prostrated himself before the Great White Egret. “The honour is ours, Shu Lien,” he said. “E ai o harirau, hei rere mai. What wings you have with which to fly here! In your country, long after you are gone, monks from the Shaolin order will create a society of martial arts fighters based on your ideals.”

“What on earth are you talking about!” Skylark whispered. “Sometimes you just don’t make any sense at all.”

“I can’t help it if you don’t go to martial arts movies. Think Michelle Yeoh —”

The Great White Egret hid her face in modesty at Arnie’s praise. “The things you speak of are to do with hidden dragons, crouching tigers. Let us turn to the immediate present and your current dilemma. We unreservedly join you in your battle against ambition, avarice, theft, murder and the wish of the seabirds to become conquerors of the world.”

And the hour of battle was again upon them.

With a sudden uplifting of wings, the seabirds advanced like a weather front broiling up from the south.

“This time we will not retreat,” Kawanatanga cried.

Boom. The shotgun, which Arnie had ordered brought forward, sent its shells whistling through the seabirds.

Boom. Under the instruction of Chieftain Ruru, the second shell soared through the air and exploded its pellets.

The front lines of the seabirds faltered, but Kawanatanga urged his army forward. “Get through before the landbirds have the chance to re-load! Toroa, advance with your albatross squad and take out that shotgun.”

The seabirds pushed — and, as they had done that morning, entered again into the throat of Manu Valley.

“Manu tu, manu ora, manu moe, manu mate,” Arnie cried. “If you stand you live, if you lie down you die. Hold firm. Be steadfast.”

Again Chieftain Teretere led the swift clan. White undertail coverts dazzling, they rained across the sky as if fired from a thousand crossbows. On their tails came Chieftain Kahu and his hawk battalion, Chieftain Parera and the paradise shelduck iwi, and other windhovers of the open sky. Meanwhile, Chieftain Ruru was having his own desperate battle as the albatrosses descended on his owl warriors.

Boom.

A quick re-loading gave the owls some respite. The Great White Egret whispered to her kung fu warriors and approached Arnie. “Chieftain, may I lead my fighters into the fray? These are ideal fighting conditions for us.”

“The sky is yours,” Arnie answered.

Yu Shu Lien and her nine warriors advanced. They held their staffs in their claws. The Great White Egret bowed her head before Kawanatanga: “Enemy lord, turn back or face us.”

Kawanatanga gave an incredulous laugh. “What can ten do against a thousand?”

“Actually,” the Great White Egret answered humbly, “quite a lot.”

She gave a sharp order. “Hai. Hohooo.” Next moment, the kung fu warriors were jumping, flying, circling, tumbling, somersaulting in and out of the ranks of seabirds. Every time they made a move they slashed with their staffs, slicing three seabirds at one blow. They wove in and out, under and above, stabbing and jabbing giant holes in the approaching army. At the end of their first feint, they retreated and bowed.

“Wow,” Skylark whistled.

With a roar of anger, Kawanatanga urged his army forward. Next moment, the Great White Egret and her warriors were fighting for their lives. Together with the windhovers, they were pushed backwards, ever backwards, over Manu Valley. Watching, Arnie was trying to calculate the moment when the maximum number of enemy were engaged. In particular, he was waiting for the black seashags from the future, the greatest threat of all, to enter the envelope of air immediately above the Great Forest of Tane.

They were in the zone. “Yu Shu Lien, windhovers,” Arnie yelled, “dive, dive, dive —”

On the order, the windhovers folded their wings and dropped like stones toward the green canopy of the forest. Would the black seashags follow them? Would they take the bait?

The seashags swooped after their descending prey. The windhovers dropped through the forest and disappeared.

“Come on, you black devils,” Arnie whispered to himself. “Follow the windhovers through. Go through —”

It was Kawanatanga himself who sealed their fate. “Kill the cowards. Bring back to me their heads as trophies. Especially bring back that Chinese bitch!”

One by one, the black seashags banked, and in a trice the forest swallowed them. They founds themselves in a maze of sky-splitting trees and ferns, a glowing forest which took their breath away. Soon, all of this would be theirs. All this beauty. All this awesome taonga. All this virgin land. But where were their prey?

“They’ve gone to ground! They’re playing hide and seek! Where are you, my little lovelies.”

Lower and lower the seashags descended. They fluttered through the dense canopy, weaving this way and that among the dense branches. At last, they broke through into the space between canopy and ground where they were able to cruise, wings outspread, between the trunks of the trees.

But why was it so quiet? Why was it so silent? And such a humid, oppressive silence too. The seashags began to grow uneasy.

“Do you still pursue us?” the Great White Egret asked.

She was swaying on a slender branch. In a sudden movement, she swung her long bamboo staff, decapitating an attacking seashag. Next moment her kung fu warriors were flipping from branch to branch, knocking down the enemy birds.

This was the moment Chieftain Kaka had been waiting for.

“Pokokohua! Taurekareka!”

He sprang the ambush, and his tribe of parrots came out from the holes in the trees. They leapt in twos and threes onto the seashags, riding them like cowboys, forcing them to stall and fall to the ground.

The seashags hissed and bucked trying to dislodge their unwanted riders. No sooner were they grounded than Chieftain Koreke of quails and his tribe came running fast on twinkling legs. They rose with a whirr, aiming themselves like bullets at the downed seashags. Desperately the seashags snapped at their attackers.

The Great Forest was silent no longer. Everywhere, the ground birds were hastening to the attack — all the woodhens, pukeko and kiwi, as well as the pheasants, partridges, rails, coots, crakes, moorhens, pipits, and wagtails.

“It’s a trap! Get out while you can!” the seashags yelled.

But once the trap had closed, nothing could save them. The air at ground level was dead, still, without any underwing airflow to provide lift. Even if they managed to become airborne, their manoeuvrability was limited and there was not enough air space to achieve a fast getaway.

“Aue, my canoe is done for,” a seashag cried as he clipped a tree and fell to the ground again. All around him the smaller birds were waiting and whirring. Flashing their crimson or green feathers, red or yellow crowns, and orange fronts, they attacked like swarms of brightly coloured avian piranha.

“Ma iro kite,” the ground birds shrilled. “We will see the maggots when all of you lie on the ground after the battle.”

High in the sky, Kawanatanga finally understood what was happening. He saw his seashag battalions disappearing into the forest canopy and not returning.

“Why didn’t you warn me?” he asked Karoro. “The entire forest is a great Venus fly-trap. Re-group! Keep out of the forest! Return to your battle formations!”

Seething with anger, Kawanatanga waited for the restoration of his birds’ attack configuration. He counted himself lucky that he still had half his seashag battalion. “The victory can yet be mine,” he said.

“So what do we do now, Chieftain Arnie?” Kahu asked.

“We’re outnumbered but we’re just going to have to fight on with every beak and claw until it’s all over,” Arnie answered.

Te Arikinui Kotuku stepped forward. “Even ours?” she asked. “No use standing on ceremony. In war, gender doesn’t matter, right?”

“Right,” Arnie said.

“Here we go then, girls,” Kotuku called. She led Huia, Korimako, Parera and Karuwai into the air.

“E, i, kia whakatane au i ahau. Now we play the men —”

At the sight of so much desperation, Skylark began to lose heart. The onslaught was inexorable. Manu whenua were falling from the sky.

“Why is this happening?” she asked Arnie. “Why can’t we get everybody out of this mess?” She felt hot tears brimming in her eyes and huddled closer to him.

“You mustn’t give up, Skylark,” Arnie said.

“I’m not,” she replied. “After all I’m still not the kind of girl who goes ‘Save me, save me, I’m so helpless.’ It just pisses me off that here we are, back in a time before even humans were around, fighting a really crucial war for survival — and we’re losing!”

“Attagirl, Skylark,” Arnie answered. He loved having an excuse to comfort her so that he could cuddle her under his wing. “Our situation is not all that hopeless. After all, Kawanatanga is only a bird, for goodness sake and —”

Arnie took a sharp intake of breath.

“That’s it,” he said. “Where’s the penknife Hoki sent us?”

“Over there by the box of matches.”

“I want you to tie it to my raking claw with some flax. It will give me an extra extension.”

“What for!”

“It’s a trick I saw in a James Bond movie,” Arnie said. “The villainess had a shoe with a blade in the sole. It gave her a longer reach. Who knows? It might work.”

“Might work for what!” Skylark asked.

“Look, Skylark,” he said gently, “there’s only one way to win this battle.”

He shook his leg to make sure the penknife was tied on securely. “Ahakoa he iti te matakahi, ka pakaru i a au te totara. Although the wedge is small, by it the totara tree will be shattered.”

Before Skylark could stop him, Arnie had taken to the air.

“But where are you going!” she yelled.

“I have to take Kawanatanga out,” he called back.

“No, Arnie, wait —”

Skylark cried out after Arnie but he was already beyond hearing. She hated having shown her vulnerability. Now she had to prove herself all over again. Not only that, but she had also come up with a good idea — one just as good as Arnie’s and less dangerous.

“Typical, typical, typical,” she said to herself, stamping her feet. “It’s just typical of a man to assume all the decisions and hare off into the unknown, without even discussing it, as if he were the only one around to save the world. Why do men always think they know best? Why do they always think everything depends on them? And leaving me here, like some ditz, as if I’ve got nothing better to do than wait for him to get back. Well, think again, pal.”

Skylark looked around for the box of matches, picked it up between her claws and whizzed up through the embattled sky to talk to Te Arikinui Kotuku. The white heron was engaged in a particularly vicious bill-fight with an albatross. The albatross lunged; Kotuku deftly parried and delivered the rapier thrust. The albatross fell from the sky.

“Hello, Skylark dear,” Kotuku said. “Enjoying yourself? Is Arnie all right?”

“Arnie’s off doing this boy thing. He’s gone after Kawanatanga. He thinks that if he kills him the seabird attack will falter.”

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Kotuku said. “The battle goes against us. Let’s hope he can dispatch his job quickly.”

“Well, I’ve got a little mission of my own on the boil,” Skylark continued, trying not to let her temper get the best of her. “It’s just as good as Arnie’s. I need you to help me, together with one of your crack platoons.”

“Oh? Is it really necessary to withdraw some of my troops? Everyone’s needed at the front. Are you sure it’s not just a hen thing?”

Skylark glared at Kotuku. “What do you mean?”

“You’re not just doing this to show Arnie you know better?”

“No,” Skylark answered. “I’m really serious about this mission. Whose side are you on anyway?”

“Okay.” Kotuku nodded, not quite convinced. “But there are no sides in love, Skylark. You’re going to have to learn not to win all the time. If you can’t do that, try at least to pretend to lose.”

With that Kotuku yelled out to The Great White Egret, Te Arikinui Huia, Te Arikinui Karuwai and Te Arikinui Korimako. “Can you all keep the manu moana busy? Skylark and I have something to do, okay?”

“Go,” Huia answered, her eyes wide with anxiety. “But don’t be too long.”

Kotuku signalled eight of her fiercest troopers to follow her. “Kra-aak! Kra-aak! We are under Chieftainess Skylark’s command.” She turned to Skylark. “Where are we going?”

“To the offshore islands,” Skylark answered.

“Let me through, kik-kik-kik-kik —”

Arnie headed for Chieftain Kahu. All around him were astonishing displays of aeronautical prowess as landbirds clashed bills and struck claws in duels across the sky. Arnie himself had fended off a fulmar here, a southern giant petrel there, and had almost been gutted by a particularly dexterous frigate bird, which came up behind him, its long, angular tail opening and closing in a menacing scissor action. Luckily for Arnie a whirling pigeon and a prion intervened in battle between them, and the petrel sheared off, screaming with anger at being denied its kill.

Kahu just had to be right in the thick of it. His beak was covered in blood and when, from the corner of his right eye, he saw what he thought was another seabird closing on him, he whirled and struck with his left claw.

Arnie danced out of the way. “Easy, chief,” he said. “I’m on your side, remember?”

“Oops!” Kahu smiled, relieved. “So how goes it, my young warrior from the future?”

“The battle hangs in the balance,” Arnie said, “but I fear the worst. Although the odds have gone down, we are still outnumbered. Even if we win, the seabirds from the future are still coming through the ripped sky.”

“We will never be taken by the seabirds,” Kahu cried, “never. Even if they enslave our world, we will escape to the mountains and carry on reprisals. We will never submit to their rule.” Kahu cocked a curious eye at Arnie. “You’ve got something on your mind, Chieftain?”

“I’m going after Kawanatanga,” Arnie said. “But he’s surrounded by his own personal guards and they’ll kill me before I get within spitting distance of him. Could I borrow you and your hawks for a while? If they can keep the guards engaged, you and I will be able to get past them. If we do that, I want you to engage Kawanatanga, pretend you’re wounded, and decoy him away from the battle. Can you do that?”

“Consider it done.”

Kahu nodded and gave three piercing whistles. Immediately three of his sons came flying down with the wind. “Yes, Dad?”

“Follow after us,” Kahu said. “Leave Kawanatanga to me and Chieftain Arnie, but do what you like with his guards —”

Arnie turned and looped low, looking for Kawanatanga. Kahu and his boys moved in on either side of him. Arnie used his binocular vision, found Kawanatanga and zeroed in.

Further over on the far side of the battle, Arnie saw a slight movement. White feathers sparkled in the sun, drifting down Manu Valley, beating seaward.

In front was a small brown bird.

Was that Skylark?

“Are we being followed? Surely the seabirds are after us.”

Skylark was gliding the offshore winds, afraid to look back. If she did so she might see that Kawanatanga had noticed her and Te Arikinui Kotuku slipping away. He would guess what she intended to do and would send seashags, like avenging harpies, to stop her.

“No,” Kotuku answered. “We’ve got away undetected.”

Skylark followed the coastline, hoping to blend in with the landscape. Who knew what scouts Kawanatanga might have left on guard of the outer islands? Or maybe Kawanatanga felt so confident of victory that he had left the door wide open. Well, if he did, she intended to fly right through it.

“Are we not going straight to the islands?” Kotuku asked.

“No,” Skylark answered. “Not yet.”

The islands were like three jagged teeth jutting out of the glistening sea. Skylark recalled Arnie’s description of them. The closest island was the late Karuhiruhi’s pah, a jagged crown of tall crags and eyries fortified by military parapets and launching pads. The two outlying islands were nurseries, one low-lying with nests scattered over a high plateau, the other high with holes in cliffs for mollymawk chicks. Above and around them, Skylark could see female seabirds wheeling and circling in the bright sky. Now what had Arnie said?

By the way, Skylark, did I tell you there’s oil down there? The stuff is just oozing out of the ground.

Okay, so where was it?

Kotuku gave a slight grunt of distaste. She had guessed where their mission was heading. “Just follow your nose, Skylark dear,” she said. Already, the sharp acrid smell was permeating the air.

“Oh no,” one of young troopers said. “That place is evil. To fly over it is to lose consciousness and fall into the bubbling black mire beneath. Once you land in it, you are trapped there forever. Must we go there?”

“I want to create a diversion,” Skylark answered. “But to do it, I need some straw.”

“Straw?” Kotuku asked.

“The stuff you make your nests with.”

“Would abandoned ones do? There’s bound to be plenty of those on the beach.”

“Perfect,” Skylark said. She followed Kotuku down to the sand dunes. “Can you carry one in each claw?” she asked the troopers. “Okay? lets go.”

The mission took off again, heading for the place where the oil seeped and boiled above the ground. Skylark skirted the black sludge, but even from a safe distance the toxic fumes affected everyone as large bubbles of gas were expelled. Caught in one of them, Kotuku started coughing and vomiting.

Skylark saw a small outer pond where landing looked safe. She signalled the mission to go down. “Soak the nests in the oil,” she instructed. “Now, take them with you, fly a safe distance away and wait for me. I’ll be with you soon.”

“Why are you staying behind?” Kotuku asked.

“There’s something else I want to do before I join you,” Skylark said.

“Then I’ll stay with you,” Kotuku answered.

“No,” Skylark ordered. “I said go, and I mean go.”

Skylark’s head was reeling from the toxic fumes. “If I can set the oil alight,” she said to herself, “the smoke is sure to bring the seabirds back.” She tried to light a match. “But what if I catch fire myself, or don’t leave enough time to get away?” She tried again. Still no flame from the match. Worse, she felt herself being overcome by the fumes, becoming disoriented. She sank down on the sand, her head whirling. “I’ve got to do it,” she gasped. “I’ve —”

There was a whir of wings as Kotuku returned. “Why do you think you always need to do things by yourself?” she asked.

“Oh don’t get me started,” Skylark coughed. “Can you hold this box firmly for me?” She took a match in her beak and struck it against the box. Again the match failed to flare.

“Give it to me,” Kotuku said.

She took the match from Skylark’s beak and struck it against one of her claws.

Skylark was dumbfounded when it burst into flame.

“Now what do you want me to do?” Kotuku asked.

Skylark threw the match into the oil. There was a small plop as the surface of the oil ignited. A blue flame began to spread toward the main oilfield.

Quickly Kotuku and her troopers dragged Skylark away to safety. When she revived, the oilfield was ablaze.

“Oh, you naughty, naughty girl,” Kotuku said.

“Do it now, Kahu —”

“Okay,” Chieftain Kahu answered. Leaving Arnie at his high surveillance point, he led his three sons down to engage Kawanatanga and his personal guards. Kawanatanga laughed, contemptuous of Kahu’s vain attempts to lock on, claw against claw: “Is that the best you can do?”

Arnie’s heart was thudding fast. He was alarmed by the way Kawanatanga was slashing at Kahu. It would only be a matter of time before he inflicted a real blow — and it could be mortal. Before that could happen Kahu finally kicked in with the plan of action, clutched at his left wing, and twisted and fell away from Kawanatanga. Would he take the bait?

He did. With arrogant ease, Kawanatanga left the protective circle of his personal guards. Immediately, Arnie folded his wings and followed in free fall.

“Go go go,” Arnie cried under his breath to Kahu. Kawanatanga, more heavily built, was gaining on his prey. Ground zero was coming up at them. Kawanatanga was getting ready to strike. He made his move — and Arnie made his. He dived out of the sun, sounding his charge. “Kik-kik-kik-kik! Arnie’s small head was erect, his feathers tight and smooth against his body. His eyelids flickered fractionally. He was totally turned on by battle lust.

Kawanatanga was lucky. Startled, he saw the shadow settling above him, sheared off to the right and just managed to escape Arnie’s notched tooth. Arnie turned after him, passing Chieftain Kahu as he stabilised.

“Have fun,” Kahu said, as he beat his way back to the battle.

Only then did Kawanatanga realise the trap had sprung. But was he worried? No, he felt the thrill of destiny. “Ah, so I face my nemesis again,” he said to Arnie. “One on one?”

“You got it,” Arnie answered. “You’re from the future. So am I. There’s not enough room in this world for the two of us.”

“Then prepare to meet your Maker,” Kawanatanga said. He stretched out his neck and struck. Arnie’s raking claw came up, past the striking neck. With surprise, Kawanatanga caught the flash of sunlight and a glimpse of steel. He managed a quick avoiding flick. Even so, the tip of the penknife riffed through his skin. “That’s not fair,” Kawanatanga complained as he back-pedalled.

Airborne and intent on the kill, Arnie didn’t give a shit. “Use it or lose it, Kawanatanga,” he said. “Nothing’s fair in love and war. Time for you to go. Hasta la vista, baby.”

Kawanatanga dived for the sea. The gap between him and Arnie lengthened. Arnie expected him to level out but, instead, Kawanatanga crashed cleanly through the water — and Arnie had just enough strength to pull out of his dive.

“Damn, damn, damn,” Arnie swore. “I should have expected that.” Obviously, Kawanatanga was swimming underwater. He could be anywhere. If only Arnie could calculate the place where he would come up, he could be waiting for him. “Where are you, you seashag submarine?” Arnie called. Backwards and forwards he flew, trying to locate the wake caused by Kawanatanga’s propelling feet. He decided to break to his left.

Wrong choice. Far on the right, Kawanatanga re-surfaced. His powerful wings elevated his body out of the sea and, before Arnie could get a chance to head him off, Kawanatanga was flying towards an area honeycombed by coastal cliffs.

“Catch me if you can.”

Arnie gave a cry and wheeled after Kawanatanga. As he did so, he saw wisps of brown smoke on the horizon just above the offshore islands.

Something was on fire.

Skylark must have something to do with it.

“Come on, girls,” Skylark said. “Our job isn’t over yet.”

“So what’s next, Chieftainess?” Kotuku asked.

“It’s time for our mission to split up,” Skylark answered. “We’re going to attack the two nursery islands. You, Kotuku, take four of your troopers, set fire to the nests you’re carrying and drop them onto the first of the outer islands, the one where mollymawks raise their young in the cliffs. I’ll take the other troopers with me to the second island where the seabird mothers nest on the plateau. You must make the drops strategically.”

“Strategically?”

“Drop the nests wherever there is dry grass or straw, where they have the maximum opportunity to catch fire and spread. We want both islands to catch fire.”

“What about the nests you’re carrying?” Kotuku asked. “You’ve always got to leave the best for the last,” Skylark grinned. “They’re for the fortress island.”

Kotuku wheeled with her squad and, with the oil-soaked nests in their clawed feet, made for the first of the two nursery islands. Galvanised, Skylark led her own squad to the second island. As they approached, female gulls rose up in clouds. Territorial as ever, they had a lot to defend. The entire plateau was dotted with mothers and recently hatched chicks.

“Oh no, all those baby chicks,” Skylark said and, for a moment, her resolve wavered. “I don’t want to harm you, darlings. All I want is for your daddy seabirds to come flying back to rescue you.”

Then she found herself in a birdfight with seven attacking prions. She looked into their dark, furious eyes, and saw their beaks snapping at her. That changed her attitude. “It’s either you or us,” Skylark decided.

Battling desperately, Skylark and her troopers pushed through the attacking gulls. They were still over the ocean, but gradually they were able to make it to the edge of the plateau.

“Quick,” Skylark yelled at the troopers. She struck a match against her claws and set fire to the nests they were carrying. “Make the drop —”

The troopers closed their wings, descended through the gulls and aimed the nests at a patch of dry grass on the plateau. “Bombs away!” A puff, the grass caught fire and began to spread. The flames drove the seabird mothers into an absolute frenzy of anxiety.

Suddenly, there was a dull crack and a flash as a sheet of fire flickered in the sky above the other nursery island.

“How did Kotuku manage that?” Skylark asked herself. Then, “It’s the guano,” she gasped. “It’s a powder keg. The ammonia from the guano creates an inflammable gas. It fuels the fire, reaches flash point and everything goes up.” In panic she looked at the flames dancing beneath her. “We’ve got to get out of here,” Skylark cried. “The same thing’s going to happen to this island.” She took to the sky, urging her troopers to follow quickly after her. Higher and higher they soared.

Flash point.

The air cracked apart. A white sheet of fire leapt through it. The flames and heat sizzled and crackled around Skylark as she flipped and rolled out of danger.

“Well, Skylark dear,” Kotuku said when she rejoined the mission, “if the seabird army doesn’t hear that and see the flames and smoke, they would have to be deaf as well as blind.”

“And we haven’t finished yet,” Skylark said.

“What the heck —”

Arnie and Kawanatanga had been sky dancing and Arnie was blinded by two bright flashes cracking across the sky. “No!” Kawanatanga cried. Clouds of mother gulls were fluttering above two of the offshore islands. Their wailing rolled inland on the wind.

Arnie tilted his head and, when his sight returned, focused his gaze seaward. What was happening there? Sure enough, he saw a little brown bird and nine white-winged cranes skimming the crystal sea. So it was Skylark after all.

“Brilliant, Skylark,” he yelled. “Just awe-some!”

She had caused the seabird army’s drive to the inlet to falter. Attracted by the flames and smoke and the screams of seabird mothers, they began breaking off from the cut and thrust of the attack.

“Something else has happened,” Arnie realised. A loud chorus of horror and consternation came from the battlefield; it was followed by a tidal wave of air flowing inward from the ocean and up the Manu Valley, as if some huge hole had opened up which needed to be filled. More seabirds fled in terror back to the sea.

“I must return to my army,” Kawanatanga said to himself. “My fight with the falcon from the future will have to wait for another day.” He sensed an upward ascending wind and turned into it.

Arnie, however, was not about to let him go so easily. He flew into Kawanatanga’s path, blocking him. “Going somewhere?” he asked.

“The gods favour you today,” Kawanatanga sneered. “Let me pass.”

“Like hell I will,” Arnie answered. “My elemental mission is to defend to the death, to the last sinew and feather, the manu whenua. You’re going nowhere.”

“Then die,” Kawanatanga said.

He attacked, his eyes alert and feral. But his impatience to return to the battle acted to Arnie’s advantage. When he stretched for the kill, his wings dipped and he dropped below his foe. Parrying with finesse, Arnie lifted, mantled, and dropped on Kawanatanga’s back.

“Who’s going to their god?” Arnie cried. He thrust his legs down and forward, and the talons of his right leg bit, dug, flexed and hooked. Holding on with that leg, Arnie manoeuvred the penknife that Skylark had tied onto his left leg into a strike position.

“Mess with the best,” Arnie yelled, “die like the rest.”

Too late. Kawanatanga, in a reflex action, lunged forward. He tore away from Arnie’s talons — and as he did so, pulled the penknife out of its binding. Arnie watched helplessly as it spiralled toward the sea.

Kawanatanga could only see red. “I have the upper hand now.”

Arnie spilled air. His only hope was to put enough space between him and Kawanatanga and, in the interim, think of some strategy to change the balance of power. Alternating gliding with bursts of powered level flight, Arnie made a desperate bid for sea level.

“We’d better hurry,” Te Arikinui Kotuku said. They were fast approaching the late Karuhiruhi’s fortress island. Already the jagged crown was spearing into the sky, the ramparts rushing up like spears to meet them.

What was it that had happened on the battlefield? Skylark asked herself. She had felt a sudden lurch and kick in the dynamic of the world when the two outer nursery islands had reached flashpoint and dazzled the sky with blinding white light. She wracked her brains for an answer.

“Prepare to repel the royal guard,” Kotuku warned. Areta’s crack squad of prion marines had taken to the air and were planing across to meet them.

“Keep them busy, will you?” Skylark asked. “I have the two remaining nests. I can do this job on my own.”

“Okay,” Kotuku nodded. “But don’t take too long, will you?” With a cry she and the troopers engaged the prions.

Skylark dived for the ramparts. She was following a hunch of hers that somewhere there’d be a main shaft going right through the middle of the fortress.

“If I plant the burning nests there, I’ll be able to bring the castle down — and its Queen and new King with it.”

But where was the entrance? She heard a scream and saw one of her troopers fall from the sky. She was wasting time —

Then Skylark saw it. A grand hallway, just behind a tall balcony from which the late Karuhiruhi had saluted his military.

Skylark dropped, and before Areta’s bodyguards could stop her, she was in. Three doorways appeared before her. Unsure which one to take, she flew through the left doorway and found herself in the army barracks. Oops. She backed out and, this time, chose the doorway in the middle.

Behind the doorway was a stairwell. A jink, a swerve, another swerve — man, there were so many passageways. From one of them, however, came a lovely updraft of wind, sufficient to fuel a fire. Skylark followed the draft to its source: a large bedroom, palatial, drapings all over the place. Just the ticket. She settled. Put the nests down. Lit a match.

“How dare you enter my royal chambers!” Areta came flying through the room. Screaming with rage, she knocked the match from Skylark’s wing. Skylark feinted to the left, then returned as Areta surged past. Her breast feathers pulsing with exertion, she swung sideways and extended her left foot.

Years of royal living had robbed Areta of physical fitness or dexterity. “Oof,” she said as she tripped, lost balance, and went head over heels through the air. She hit a wall and fell to the ground, moaning. Her baby son began to wail from its cot.

“This is no time to be sentimental,” Skylark said to herself. She struck a second match. Threw it. Its flame caught on the drapings and in a second the whole room was on fire. “Time to get out of here.” She braced and leaned forward. Her tail approaching horizontal, she pushed off from the floor, heading for the exit.

Areta gave a demented wail. “My son!”

The fire spread to his crib. Quickly, Areta pulled him out and headed for the secret trapdoor. Below was a passageway leading down and out of the fortress at sea level. Using her last reserves of energy she opened the trap-door with her beak. Before she could take another step with her son, the flames whooshed past her and down the vent.

“You can’t get away from me. I have you now.”

Kawanatanga had completely forgotten about returning to lead his troops in the war. Taking out this falcon from the future had become his obsession, and he was determined to relish the chase, enjoying the certainty of the kill. He would play with Arnie as a cat does with a mouse. He wanted to feel the ultimate power. “I’m in control, now,” he called. “You live at my leave. You will die when I choose to kill you.”

His mocking laughter followed Arnie has he hydroplaned across the sea. But was Arnie worried? The longer you play with me, Arnie thought, the longer you’ll be kept away from the battle. Nor am I about to give in without a good fight.

Mustering his energy, Arnie dipped between the troughs of the waves, hoping that the pursuing Kawanatanga might make an ill-judged move, be caught by a curling wave and dunked.

No such luck.

Panting with exertion, his velocity decreasing, Arnie decided to make a break for the land. Maybe he could lose Kawanatanga along the shoreline, among the smoke drifting across the sea from the offshore islands. Yes, that was it.

“I’m so bored now,” Kawanatanga sighed. He locked onto Arnie and swooped.

Bird turned missile, his wings extended a fraction for the sake of steerage, Kawanatanga hooked and grappled Arnie’s left wing in his beak. Holding the wing, Kawanatanga lifted one of his feet and raked Arnie’s back, slicing it open. At close quarters, Kawanatanga was ruthless. He had the advantage of a longer bill reach. Another jab and he tore Arnie’s shoulder.

“Prepare to breathe your last, Arnie,” Kawanatanga said. “I will open you from head to tail. I will rip you apart from head to sternum so that your entrails will spill out and fall to the sea.”

In agonising pain, Arnie stabilised with his right wing. His mouth was dry. He was losing consciousness. The blood was running like a river from his wounds. Bobbing his head to clear it and to sharpen his wits, Arnie turned and prepared himself for Kawanatanga’s killing thrust. “Game’s over,” Kawanatanga said. “I’ve won.”

Screaming, Areta turned away from the vent. With that exit closed to her escape, there was only one way out — and that was to ascend the main stairway.

“Don’t worry, son,” Areta soothed her wailing child. “I’ll get you out of here and away from danger.”

Away from danger?

Alas, poor Areta. The fire which Skylark had made in the royal nursery had really taken hold. It was roaring down the vent, a huge fiery jet stream travelling through the volcanic composition of the island. Some of the flames flicked through other vents, other veins, other channels, other cracks in the subterranean foundations.

Areta reached the open air with her son. “Thank God, oh Queen, you’re safe,” a prion royal guard said.

At that very moment, a tongue of fire flicked and reached down and found an underground channel. There, in the channel, streamed a huge river of oil right at the very centre of the fortress island itself.

Areta heard a rumble, deep beneath her feet. “What is that?” she asked the royal guard.

Before he could answer, the island fortress exploded.

“No! Not Areta! Nor the son from whom I am descended —”

A huge ball of fire erupted into the air. It boiled higher and higher, burning a hole in the sky. The heat from the blast hit Kawanatanga, and with it came the smell of death.

“Chieftain Arnie! Defend yourself. We’re almost there —” From the corner of his eye Arnie saw Chieftain Kahu and Chieftain Tui coming to his rescue. But he knew they would be too late.

Kawanatanga was like a maddened machine, his eyes bloodshot with anger, his face glowing with insanity.

“You. You —”

He prepared to deliver the death blow.

He slashed with his claws at Arnie, but the thrust went right through without having any effect.

Kawanatanga’s eyes popped with puzzlement. “You should be dead.”

He slashed again. But he had no claws to slash with. They disintegrated before his eyes.

“What’s happening to me?” Kawanatanga screamed as his feet disappeared. Then his thighs. Now his wingtips. And his tail feathers.

Whimpering he grabbed for Arnie.

“Keep away from me,” Arnie yelled as he backed away in horror. Kahu and Tui fluttered down beside him. They caught him in their wings.

“Don’t be afraid,” Kahu said. “This same thing has been happening to many of the seabirds. When the offshore islands started to catch fire, they began to disappear before our very eyes —”

“Kua riro ki wiwi ki wawa,” Tui added, awe-struck. “A third of the seabird army has gone. They have fled into the unknown. Kawanatanga will soon join them.”

Kawanatanga cried out in fear. “I don’t want to die,” he sobbed. His body was wavering, blanking out, as if someone was erasing him. He was disappearing piece by piece. Finally, all that was left was his neck, beak and eyes.

“Please save me,” his beak said. “The Lord Tane will listen to you —”

At that moment Arnie felt a great surge of pity. “It was either you or me,” he said. “Goodbye, Kawanatanga.”

Kawanatanga was no longer there. Where he had been was an empty space of air.

Arnie crumpled, sobbing with relief. Of course! Skylark had decimated the rookeries. She had destroyed the descent lines for the seabirds from the future. Without their descent lines, those seabirds ceased to exist.

They, and their leader Kawanatanga, were gone forever.

“Skylark, you did it,” Arnie said.

“Yes, but you’re hurt,” Skylark answered, concerned. She had just arrived back at the lagoon.

“No, no. I’m fine,” Arnie protested. But when he put his wings around her, he winced in pain. His left wing was seeping blood.

“Take Chieftain Arnie down to the lagoon and bathe his wounds,” Kotuku said. “And don’t forget, Skylark, try not to win all the time.”

“Okay,” Skylark answered, slightly puzzled at Kotuku’s hint.

She supported him down to the water’s edge and, while he slipped in, prepared a poultice for him from the mud.

“Did you know what would happen?” Arnie asked as he sat in the lagoon having a birdbath.

“That the enemy would disappear? Of course I did.” But as soon as she said the words Skylark understood what Kotuku had been getting at. There are no sides in love, Skylark. If you can’t learn not to win all the time, try at least to pretend to lose. “But,” she added hastily, “you gave me the idea.”

“Did I?” Arnie sounded pleased. But before he could ask any more questions, Skylark had changed the subject.

“Okay,” she said, “you can come out of the water now.”

With a hop and a skip, Arnie flipped out of the lake. He gave a vigorous shake and the water sprayed off his feathers. Skylark began to preen him. From the corner of her eye she saw Kotuku watching and nodding with approval.

A blissful look came over Arnie’s face. His eyes rolled up and he gave a deep sigh of contentment. “I could get used to this,” he said.

Skylark blushed. Having never been in this position before, she didn’t know how to reply. Instead, she concentrated on the job at hand. “That will just have to do for now,” she said. “It’s a pity they don’t have bandages around here. But that’s the way it is in birdland.”

Chieftain Kahu came flying towards them and broke the spell. Skylark saw that all the manu whenua at the inlet had lifted and were flying in their hundreds back to the cliff face where the sacred tree was.

Kahu bowed low before Skylark and Arnie. “Tui has asked us all to the paepae for the victory celebration. It is my great honour to escort you there.” His voice fell to a whisper. “Confidentially, you have saved the day, Chieftain Arnie, and we wish to give you the greatest honour.”

“But it’s really Skylark who did it,” Arnie protested.

It was too late. Kahu had already launched himself into the air. As Skylark and Arnie followed him, Kotuku joined them.

“Do you mind, dear, all this fuss over Arnie?” she asked.

“No, of course I don’t,” Skylark answered. “I was never any good at being centre stage. Let Arnie take the credit that is due to him.”

“You’re learning fast. After all, we know who was the real hero of the battle, don’t we? I salute you, Chieftainess.”

Skylark heard a huge cheer as they approached the sacred tree. Waiting for them on the highest branch were Chieftain Tui, Chieftain Ruru and Chieftain Kawau. Every branch was filled with birds. To one side perched Te Arikinui Huia, Te Arikinui Karuwai and Te Arikinui Korimako. To another were Chieftain Piwakawaka, Chieftain Koekoea, Chieftain Parera and Chieftain Kaka. The Great White Egret and her crack troops from China were sitting on the branch reserved for respected visitors. Chieftain Pekapeka was in his usual place, hanging upside down. On the ground, the wingless birds — Chieftain Weka, Chieftain Kakapo, Chieftain Kiwi and Chieftain Titi among them — were still settling down.

Young women, led by the comely Kahurangi, were dancing and twirling their pois for all they were worth.

“Come down from the sky, noble hero,” Kahurangi sang. She was shimmying and bopping in a way that wasn’t quite traditional, and totally ignoring Skylark. “Come into our midst and receive your reward.”

Huh, thought Kotuku. She’s so obvious. Throwing herself at Arnie.

Young warrior birds, winged and wingless, leapt forward in an eye-bulging, muscle-popping haka.

“Ka mate, ka mate! Ka ora ka ora!

It was death, it was death! But now it is life!

It is life …”

Gesticulating, they called Arnie, Skylark, Kahu and Kotuku down to the paepae.

“Whakarongo ake au ki te tangi a te manu nei a te ma tui! Tui! Tuituia!” Chieftain Tui called everyone to attention.

A hush fell over the audience. It was spellbinding. Filled with anticipation. Sweet. Tender. Arnie gulped, looked at Skylark and held his wing out to her — and Skylark took it. “You’ll be okay,” she said. But her heart was thumping too.

Tui cleared his throat. “As the tide of the ocean recedes, so the tide has turned against the manu moana and takes them back to the sea where they belong. Let peace again prevail between us. Let the seabirds be happy where they are. Let them not try again to usurp the border.”

Pandemonium erupted. Birds tumbled and flipped in the air. A chorus of jubilation rose among the congregation. Tui lifted his wings to restore order. “Come forward, Chieftain Arnie, saviour from the future.”

But Arnie hung back and Skylark rolled her eyes and kicked him in the shins. “Ow! What did you do that for?”

“Go on! Everybody’s waiting! This is your moment. It was your destiny to do this. Everyone needs a hero. You are theirs.” She pushed him again, and there was nothing else he could do except grin stupidly, kneel before Tui and bowed his head.

“Chieftain Arnie,” Tui declaimed, “all the manu whenua thank you for your services. We wish to bestow upon you the highest honour any bird can receive. We dub thee, Sky Rider. Arise, Sir Arnie.”

The air rang with thunderous applause. Skylark felt a glow of pride, but couldn’t resist teasing him.

“What’s it like being Lord of the Wings?”

“I’m getting my own back,” Arnie replied. Before Skylark could stop him he turned to the audience. “I thank you all for this honour,” he said, “but I am only a garage mechanic from Tuapa. The honour you have bestowed on me really belongs to Skylark.”

Arnie knelt in front of her. “You are my lady,” he said. “I am simply your knight. You are the wind beneath my wings.”

A loud gasp arose from the manu whenua. A cock acknowledging a hen? During the formalities of the marae? Why, it was unheard of.

“Get up, Arnie,” Skylark hissed. “Oh please, Arnie, you’re embarrass-ing me.”

Arnie remained on his knees, and his gesture spurred Kotuku into action. After all, it had been Skylark who won the battle and been the cause of the manu whenua’s victory. Who knows? In her own world she was probably just an ordinary being, but look at her accomplishment in this world. Kotuku flew up to join Tui, Ruru and Kawau on the paepae. A yelp of protest came from Kawau.

“The Chieftainess from the future needs to be recognised, Tui,” Kotuku said. “Do it.”

Tui harrumphed, startled. He looked at Ruru who, remembering Skylark’s leadership at the inlet, nodded. “So many strange things have already occurred to change our world,” Ruru offered. “Another will not break the back of the camel.”

“Camel?” Tui shook his head. Sometimes Ruru could be so arcane and mysterious.

“Well?” Kotuku prompted.

“Don’t rush me,” Tui answered, his white collar bobbing. He looked down at Skylark. “Chieftainess, your love for your mother, and for us, has brought you on a journey that many of us would tremble at.”

And Skylark let go. All her life she had only counted on herself to get her through anything. She had never asked anything of anybody. She started to weep.

“Although you are just a small and ordinary bird, lacking in extraordinary powers —”

Kotuku stared hard at him with steely eyes. “What do you want to say a thing like that for?”

“—you have nevertheless proven courage beyond the call of duty. Who would have thought such a little bird could do so well? Ka mahi te tawa uho ki te riri. Well done, you whose courage is like the strong heart of the tawa tree.”

The manu whenua, swayed by Tui’s words, began to whistle their approval. Kotuku hadn’t finished with Tui yet. “Not so fast, Tui,” she said. “Down on your knobbly knees.”

“You’re asking too much, Kotuku —”

“Down I say!” Kotuku repeated, her beak slashing wickedly close to his manhood, “or else —”

Tui knelt on the paepae. There was a moment of suspense. Then Ruru went down on his knees too.

“I will not do it!” Kawau said. “I will not —” Ruru tripped his left foot and Kawau crumpled also.

One by one, all the manu whenua followed suit. Silence fell across the Great Forest of Tane.

“We will never forget you, Skylark,” Tui said, “nor you, Arnie, valiant champion.”

Swayed by the rightness of it all, the manu whenua finally erupted with throbbing cheers and shouted hurrahs. Some surrounded Skylark and Arnie, and many began to fly around the sacred tree. They made of it a whirling bright multi-coloured carousel of joy. Tui warbled with happiness. He saw that the wingless birds were bringing berries and fruits for the feast, and signed for the celebrations to begin. “Eat! Drink! Be merry —”

Right in the middle of it all, Arnie stood up and hugged Skylark in his wings, and was about to peck her — when something shifted, changed. Something came like an invisible fist and smashed all the flying birds to the ground. Everywhere birds were falling, and Skylark would have fallen too had Arnie not been there to hold her.

“It’s happening again,” Skylark said. “Time has begun moving forward.”

Acid rain began to fall, burning Skylark’s feathers. In alarm, the manu whenua sought deep shelter among the leaves of the sacred tree. Looking out Skylark saw the rugged mountains becoming dusted with hoar frost, glacial ice and snow. The surface split and crumbled, forming a corrugated patterns of hooks and chevrons like an ancient nightmare.

“It’s like a nuclear winter,” Arnie said.

The wind came up Manu Valley and in a trice all the birds of the forest were doubled, coughing and vomiting.

“What is causing this?” Tui asked.

Skylark searched the Heavens for an answer. She saw a huge ominous stain spreading from the rip in the sky.

“The poisonous gases of our world are affecting yours,” she said. “In our Time, our world is polluted. All the gases are pouring through the ripped sky.”

“Then it’s time for you to go back,” Kotuku said. “Although I will miss you, Skylark, your task is not over. Return to your own Time and tell the guardians of the future that they must close the ripped sky — not just against the pollution but anything else that might come through. Who knows? Another leader like Kawanatanga may arise, similarly obsessed with world domination. You did well to come here with your message and to help us. It is time for you to return now with mine.”

“Skylark and I should get moving,” Arnie nodded. “We’ve only got a day before the Time Portal closes.”

“Must you really go?” Kahu asked, looking for Kahurangi and motioning her to join him.

“I’m afraid so,” Arnie answered. “The sooner the better. The sun is sinking and the clouds are lowering.”

“What shall we do with the shotgun?” Skylark remembered.

“We’ll just have to leave it here.”

He was so cross with himself for forgetting the time, and now he was getting worried.

Skylark grinned. “That’ll set the cat among the pigeons. What on earth will a future archaeologist think when he comes across this artefact embedded in the Palaeolithic age of birds and dinosaurs.”

But Kahu was still persistent. He sidled up to Arnie and whispered to him. “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to stay behind with us? You are the son I never had. You could marry and bear me strong grandsons. Now, on that score —” he coughed — “I have a lovely daughter. You’ve seen the way she looks at you —”

Kotuku cut Kahu short. She took him aside. “You should know better!” She glanced at Skylark and Arnie. “Love doesn’t work that way.”

“Eh? What?” Kahu asked.

Sometimes, Kotuku sighed, Kahu could be as dumb as. “Kua eke ke taumou na tetahi, kauaka hai raweke,” she scolded him. “Do not interfere with those whose hearts are already reaching out to each other. You may be able to see into the corners of the sky, Kahu, but you are blind at seeing into the corners of the heart. Although they do not know it yet, Skylark and Arnie are as if already betrothed.”

In a last-ditch effort, Kahurangi threw herself into Arnie’s arms, and Skylark herself spoke out. After all, Kahurangi was really pretty and, well, she wasn’t Winona Ryder. “Arnie, if you want to stay, then stay. You’ve done your job, and I’m grateful. I’ll be able to make it back by myself.”

Arnie’s face blanched. He stared at Skylark as if she didn’t know anything.

“How can you say that to me, Skylark?” he asked. “Don’t turn your face away from me.”

“Don’t you want to keep on playing the hero?”

“Skylark,” Arnie answered, “where you go, I go.”

After that, it all happened so quickly. The Runanga a Manu set up a loud trilling farewell. Chieftain Ruru and his owl clan began a series of sad, lugubrious poroporoaki. Skylark found it difficult to leave them.

“We must go,” Arnie said. “Now, Skylark.”

“Goodbye,” Skylark cried. “Manu whenua, live forever —”

She lifted into the air, Arnie beside her, and they began their return journey to the Time Portal.

“Don’t look back,” Arnie said. Even so, long after they had left the twin mountains, Skylark could still hear the trilling birds.

Kotuku and Kahu escorted them as far as Cook Strait. The Great White Egret and her kung fu warriors also accompanied them, and then turned to the east for their flight back to China.

“It has been an honour,” Yu Shu Lien said. “I will take back with me to my side of the world the story of the extraordinary exploits that have taken place, here, at the end of the sky.” Then she led her warriors from that place, flying fast and in a pefect V-formation, falling like feathers into the setting sun.

“We must hurry,” Arnie said. He turned to embrace Chieftain Kahu. “I have travelled under the protection of the white hawk,” he said to Kahu, who couldn’t disguise the tears at the corners of his eyes. “When I return to the future, I promise that your descendants will travel under mine.”

“Farewell, Chieftainess,” Kotuku said to Skylark. “I will carry you in my heart forever.”

Skylark and Arnie flew up into the sky. The emotion was too much for Te Arikinui Kotuku. Her filamentous wings glittered in the sunlight as she sang a waiata of farewell:

“Haere ra e te hine, farewell, Skylark, farewell, farewell, oh farewell …”

Skylark and Arnie climbed towards the clouds. The sky was empty, oh so empty, and Skylark felt very alone. At least Arnie was there. No matter that she had offered him the chance to stay in this world, she was glad he was coming back to hers. But she was worried about him too. The blood was seeping through the poultice from his injured wing. All the way up, Skylark tried to find thermals, any little upward current that would make flying easier for him.

“As soon as we get home, I’m taking you straight to a doctor,” Skylark said.

“That won’t do my wing any good,” Arnie quipped. “I need a vet. Actually, speaking of home, it’s sure going to seem pretty quiet after all we’ve been through, isn’t it? No one will believe us of course, but the things we will have to tell our children —”

“What! Our children?”

“Oh.” Arnie blushed, trying to cover his tracks. “Well, after all, one of these days you’ll get married and, uh, I’ll probably get married, not to each other of course, and um —”

“I’m never getting married,” Skylark cut in. “I’ve been a witness to one bad marriage and I’m not about to repeat their mistake, thank you very much.” Having feelings for Arnie was one thing, but marriage? Whoa!

They reached the cloud ceiling and stilled, gaining their breath. “After you.” Arnie said.

“No, after you. From now on I want to see where your hands — I mean wings — are at all times.”

But when Arnie took the lead he began to tire. Skylark was alarmed to see that he was operating mainly on one wing. He was going so slowly she was soon overflying him.

“I’ll play leader,” she said in the end. It would be easier for Arnie to cruise in her slipstream.

The journey through the clouds was like going through candyfloss. Wisps of it kept breaking across Skylark like a dream. When she penetrated the upper atmosphere the sky was azure blue, beautiful, with tall cloud pillars like castles. But Arnie was lagging far behind and — oh no — the poultice had fallen off, and blood was streaming from his wing.

Desperate, Skylark searched the air and saw that a stratospheric windstream was pouring from the south, a river of cold wind which had come up from Antarctica. She sped back to Arnie and pointed it out to him. “There’s our train,” she yelled. Once Arnie was in it, all he’d have to do was open his wings and glide.

“Great.” Arnie nodded with relief. It wasn’t just his wounds that were worrying him. Although the sun was still in the sky, the heat was going off the air and the edges of the cloud cover below were turning crimson. Time too was ticking by. They’d make their rendezvous with the Time Portal only by the skin of their teeth. But where was it?

“There it is!” Skylark cried.

Hanging on the horizon was the Southern Cross. Right in the middle of it was a dark plughole, studded with gem stars. The stars were winking as if the Time Portal was already on a countdown to zero.

“We’d better hurry,” Arnie said. Although he was flying on his reserves, the sight of the Time Portal gave him renewed energy. However, rather than let Skylark take the lead again, he surged ahead, sensed what he thought felt like a short cut warming his underwings, and crossed into it. “Oh no,” he groaned. It was a cross-thermal, like a rip, and it began to pull him away from the stratospheric windstream.

Skylark flew quickly after him and recognised the danger. “What’s happening, Arnie?”

The air was shimmering. The atmosphere was heating up. “There’s a rogue thermal cooking,” he said. “We’re right in the middle of it. We have to get out of it quick, otherwise we’ll miss that ride home.”

It was too late. With a sudden whoosh, the air around them erupted into rising columns of heat. Arnie tried to stabilise himself but his left wing wasn’t up to it and he began to spin away in a giddying ascent.

“Arnie!” Skylark screamed. She soared after him, reached — and locked claws. “Hang on!”

Hydraulic elevator winds exploded all around them. There was nothing else for Skylark to do except maintain her own wing configuration for both herself and Arnie — wingtips upthrust for balance and steerage — and ride with him to the top floor. Sometimes she just couldn’t maintain her trim and they would tumble and twirl out of control, the winds trying to tear them apart. But despite the bone-jarring effort, Skylark held on to Arnie for dear life. She knew if she let go he’d be swept one way and she the other, and how would they find each other again?

Not only were they going higher, they were also ascending into a world of ever-increasing blackness. Soon they reached the realm that lay above the sky. A few seconds later they had gone beyond the stars. Suspended above an inky universe, they were swept into the belly of the Primal Night. The light blinked out completely.

When the elevator stopped, Skylark’s heart was thundering in her ears. Everything was so pitch black. She couldn’t even see Arnie. But she could hear him whimpering as he clung to her: “Skylark? Where’s the button that will make the elevator take us back? I don’t even want to know where we are —”

Arnie was going out of his mind with terror. He stared wide-eyed into that black universe and began to sob.

“What’s wrong, Arnie?”

“The darkness,” Arnie whispered. “Have I ever told you that I’ve always hated the dark? My foster parents used to throw me into a cupboard and lock the door and —”

“Sssh now,” Skylark soothed. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything harm you.”

But Arnie was rigid and sweating with fright.

“I can hear things moving around us,” he whimpered. “They’ve come to get us. Can’t you hear? Can’t you hear them?”

Indeed, Skylark could hear the sliding, the hissing, the scraping as things with scales slid closer and closer. Quickly, she fumbled among her feathers, found her prize, and struck it. The match flared, a glowing light of comfort. The darkness erupted with screams as creatures with thousands of blind eyes shrank away from the light. When they screamed, Skylark screamed too. But Arnie began to gibber with gladness.

“Skylark! You brought the matchbox!”

“No, but I’ve got six matches. They’re under my wings. So hold on tight, Arnie, because I’m getting us out of here — and quick.”

Holding the match in her beak, Skylark closed her wings and hoped that gravity worked here. How could you tell with all this blackness? As she descended, she pulled Arnie down with her. His imagination was still working overtime. When the match went out, he gave a moan of horror and clung to her like a drowning man.

“I dreaded being put into the cupboard,” he said. “I used to yell and cry but nobody came to get me out. And then spiders, snakes and scorpions came to crawl all over me —”

“Sssh,” Skylark soothed. All around her the whispering had started. The blindworms were talking to each other. What are these two birds doing here? This is not their domain. Are you hungry, my sisters? When was the last time we ate, my brothers? Oh, let us keep them here with us. Grab them while they are unaware. Do it now.

Skylark struck the second match.

“They’re all around us,” Arnie screamed.

“Coming through,” Skylark roared. Down and down she pulled him, slashing out at the thousands and thousands of blindworms with their opaque shining eyes. The second match winked out. The creatures made a rush at them, and again Arnie started to blubber.

With quivering hands, Skylark lit the third match. Arnie had grabbed her around the neck and his tight hold was strangling her. “Arnie! Arnie —”

“We’re never going to get out of here, never. We’ll be lost in the dark forever.”

They were still descending, but there were no lights anywhere below them. And the creatures in the darkness were bolder now, coming closer, sliding after them, crowding in, taking away the air.

“Get back! Get back.” Skylark yelled.

A few seconds later, she struck the fourth match. Then the fifth.

One of the blindworms came close, pursed its scabrous lips and blew it out.

Now’s our chance. Attack, my brothers. Ambush them, my sisters. Cover them, weigh them down, go into all their openings and eat them from the inside. Quick.

“One more match to go,” Skylark said. She stopped herself from saying aloud the obvious next question: “And when it goes out, what then?” Instead she started to sing:

“Mud, mud, glorious mud, nothing quite like it for soothing the blood,

So follow me, follow, down to the hollow, and there let us wallow

In glorious mud.”

It was such a silly song and Arnie couldn’t understand. “How can you sing at a time like this?”

Then he saw stars below.

“We’ve made it, Skylark!” Arnie yelped. “We’ve made it!”

The blindworms gave a loud scream of anger. Grab them. Pull them back. Don’t let them get away. Shuddering, Skylark fought her way through them and plummeted down, dragging Arnie with her.

“I wouldn’t want to do that again,” she said. She looked around, taking her bearings.

They were back in the universe and way over on the horizon were five stars. The Southern Cross.

“It’s still there!” Arnie cried.

“And the Time Portal hasn’t closed yet!”

The lights were still winking on and off, on and off.

Before Skylark could stop him, Arnie went hurtling across the universe, dropping through the well of the night sky. All he wanted to do was be in the light.

“Wait for me!” Skylark laughed. Boys were all the same. Always in a hurry. She folded her wings and dived after him. Caught up in the thrill of the chase, she registered only dimly at first a shadow that cut across the Milky Way, looming out from behind Pluto. It looked like a dark island, spinning in space, coming closer and closer out of the luminous sea of the universe. As it approached, the whole universe began to vibrate. Warning bells began to clang in Skylark’s head. Something that Lottie had said to her, just before she pushed her out of the plane:

Whatever you do, do not let the winds of the Heavens take you up into the uppermost reaches of the sky. If they do, pray very hard. And, above all, don’t go anywhere near the volcanic island where the giant pouakai lives. Otherwise …

Skylark’s heart began to pump very hard. “Please God, please make the island just a nice, cute, desert island with a palm tree on it and no sign of anything that looks remotely like a volcano, please God —”

But the island wasn’t nice or cute, and there were no palm trees in sight. Instead, as it loomed closer it revolved and, as it rolled, a huge volcano loomed out of the dark side. Sometimes in life, luck runs out. As the volcano came closer, Skylark saw something looking over the rim. Two crimson eyes with cruel black facets, watching Arnie as he fluttered erratically by. The face was straight out of Aliens 1, 2 and 3 and Alien Resurrection. With a terrifying rush, the creature slithered and scrambled up to the rim to take a better look.

Skylark’s heart stopped. The pouakai. She back-pedalled like crazy, knowing that it had not seen her.

Standing on the crater’s edge, the giant ogre bird was a terrifying sight. In that world of birds it was the size of a jumbo jet. Its body was entirely covered with scales. Iridescent colours flashed off its metallic hide. Through its multi-faceted eyes it calibrated Arnie and locked on to him. Silently it opened its wings, became a tattooed pterodactyl, a terrifying flying alligator. It smelt Arnie’s blood and began to hunt.

Terrified as she was. Skylark moved in behind the pouakai. Her brain was racing. What could she do? She couldn’t stand by and watch Arnie being eaten, not when they were so close to home.

“Arnie, watch your back!”

But he was too far ahead and did not hear her warning cry. Nor did he know he was being hunted until the raptor was right onto him. He felt its breath, heard its clamouring hide. He turned, saw the pouakai and its cruel wide-open beak, and knew it was certain death.

Then Skylark came speeding from behind the pouakai.

“No, Skylark, don’t,” Arnie yelled. “Save yourself.”

All I have to do, Skylark thought, is lure the pouakai away. That will leave Arnie time to reach the portal. Then I can make a U-turn and join him just before it closes. Yes, that’s what I’ll do.

She zoomed in front of the pouakai, faced off, and stopped it in its tracks. “Touch him and you’re dead.”

The pouakai looked at Skylark, astonished.

Skylark darted at it again. “It’s me you want, you feathered orange predator creep!”

Arnie saw the danger. The pouakai had an extendable neck. “You’re too close,” he shouted.

Skylark tried to get away. The pouakai lunged. Missed. It lunged again, its beak opening wide. Missed again. But the third time the pouakai’s neck suddenly elongated. There was a sudden jab, a clamp —

Why, that didn’t hurt at all, Skylark thought.

The pouakai snatched Skylark in its jaws. Gave a short vicious shake.

“Goodbye, Arnie,” Skylark whispered.

“No!” Arnie cried. Helpless, he watched as the pouakai closed its wings, turned and carried Skylark back to its volcanic island. Next moment, like a bowling ball, the island rumbled past him and away, receding into deep space.

Weeping with shock, Arnie limped to the gateway. “Oh, Skylark, Skylark,” he cried.

Then he rallied a moment.

Maybe Skylark had managed to wrest herself free of the pouakai’s jaws. Maybe, even now, she was speeding across the sky towards him. “Come on, come on, you can do it,” he urged through the empty sky.

The lights stopped winking. The portal had run down to the end of its timing sequence.

Skylark wasn’t going to make it.

There was a click. The portal started to close. At the last moment, Arnie rolled and went through. “Hoki will know what to do,” he said to himself. “She’s just got to know what to do —”