Page 36 of Once an Angel
Justin froze, his back rigid. As he came scrambling down the hill at twice the pace he'd climbed it, Emily tried to shove the rifle behind her skirt. It was a very poor fit indeed.
His eyes blazed as he reached around her and snatched the weapon. He leaned forward until his nose touched hers. "If you think I'd leave you alone with a loaded gun, you're loonier than they think you are."
He hurled the rifle into the hut and turned away, dismissing her with contemptuous swiftness.
"Justin?"
He stopped, his shoulders braced against the sound of her voice.
"You must hate me, don't you?"
He sighed. "I wish I could, Emily. It would make life so much simpler."
An odd glow touched her. As he ducked into the bush she felt a grin steal over her face. In all the confusion he hadn't forbade her to leave the hut. She gathered her skirt to muffle its rustle and slunk
up the hill after him.
* * *
Emily darted from tree to tree, running to keep Justin in sight. As she threw herself behind the trunk
of a kauri tree, her foot came down squarely on a twig. The crack resounded through the forest. The quivering silence warned her Justin had also stopped to listen. She shrank into herself, holding her
breath until his crashing path through the underbrush resumed. She poked her head out from behind
the tree, looked both ways, then ducked after him. This might be her only chance to discover how he spent the long hours of daylight.
The trees thinned, shrinking into thick clumps of broom fragrant with masses of delicate pink amaryllis. She dropped down, forced to scramble up the slope on hands and knees to avoid being seen.
The hillside ended abruptly in a sprawling fence of stakes, their points whittled to menacing sharpness.
"At least there aren't any shrunken heads on them," she whispered to herself.
Not yet anyway.
Less than comforted by the thought, she followed the curving line of the palisade, still shielded by
tangled growth. A yawning gate divided the stakes. Emily parted the fronds of a bush and watched
Justin disappear into its maw. Seeing no guards, she dared to follow.
Hugging the palisade, she slipped through the gate to find a small village drowsing in the midday sun. Across the courtyard Justin was entering a round hut thatched with wicker. As Emily picked her way
after him, a mangy dog lifted his head from his paws. Instead of barking, he greeted her with a pant
and a lazy wag of his tail. These natives must be a trusting lot, she thought. Just as her father had been.
She inched around the walls of the windowless hut. What reasons did Justin have for meeting with the Maori? Was he buying land with her father's gold? She had read of some diabolical white men turning
the natives against other whites so they could step into the carnage and steal their land. Her stomach tightened to a nervous knot. A trickle of sweat inched down her cheek.
Her groping fingers found a weak spot in the wicker. She tore it away, then knelt and pressed her eye
to the tiny hole.
Her gaze adjusted slowly to the cavernous gloom of the meeting house. Burning torches had been spiked into the dirt floor, casting an amber glow over the gathering. Skirted natives sat cross-legged throughout the hut. A handful of women wearing feathered cloaks were sprinkled among the men. She recognized
the stern chief and his white-haired companion. They all gave the center of the hut their rapt attention, their faces glowing with a common serenity. Even the fierce chief had allowed his expression to soften
