The Secret of Sinbad's Cave

  Chapter 5

  Abraham Te Kaitiaki

  Nat sat reading Sinbad the Sailor for the tenth time that day. The book was full of notes from the previous owners. She wished she could conjure them to ask about everything that had happened. Instead, she had to squint to decipher their scribbles. Some of the words she knew – Taupo, jewels, dhow. She’d had to look that one up to be sure, but she’d been right; a dhow was an Arabian ship. Then there were other words she’d never heard of. In bold letters up the side of one page someone had written ‘Al-Idrisi.’ What – or who – was that? Nat soaked it all in. She was determined to get to the bottom of each mystery.

  Two chapters had a blue ribbon set between the pages, marking Sinbad’s second and sixth journeys. In the second voyage, Sinbad was abandoned on an island occupied by giant birds known as roc. He became stranded in a valley full of diamonds and inhabited by serpents. Merchants harvested the diamonds by throwing hunks of meat into the valley. The roc picked up the meat, covered in diamonds, and dropped it in their nests. The merchants would drive the birds away to collect the gems. Sinbad managed to get picked up by a roc and then escaped the nest, eventually returning home to Baghdad with his fortune secured.

  What interested Nat most was the word ‘Moa’ written in the margins of the page about the serpents. She thought about that for a moment. To a frightened traveller who saw part of the unfamiliar bird, the head might have looked like a snake. It was fascinating.

  Sinbad had a history of getting shipwrecked, and on his sixth voyage it happened again, leaving him stranded on an island. He travelled on a raft through a cave laden with jewels, and emerged on the other side into a different land with people who helped him return home.

  ‘Hey Splatters!’ Jack’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. ‘Are you ready?’

  Nat put the book down. She grabbed her coat and ran downstairs.

  ‘Dad’s taking Kathleen to grab stuff for the roof,’ he said. ‘Now’s our chance.’

  ‘Did you tell him where we’re going?’

  Jack grinned. ‘Yeah – he said old man Te Kaitiaki was a witch and not to make him mad or we’d come back with a tail.’

  ‘He really said that?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Nat!’

  Nat spun around. Kathleen was running towards them but her long summer in leg casts had turned her run into an odd shuffle.

  Nat grinned at her. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘I need to talk in private,’ said Kathleen. She looked at Jack, who shrugged and wandered away.
‘I’ve been thinking about your horse and my pony,’ whispered Kathleen. ‘We can’t sell them. When we move into town they have to come too.’

  ‘I know,’ said Nat. ‘I was hoping this treasure could save them.’

  ‘Me too!’ said Kathleen.

  ‘Then we have to make a pony pact,’ said Nat. ‘Give me your hand.’ They shook solemnly. ‘Do you promise to do everything you can to keep Sundance?’

  ‘I do,’ said Kathleen. ‘Do you promise to do everything to keep Plato?’

  ‘I do,’ said Nat.

  ‘Don’t tell anyone,’ said Kathleen. ‘They’ll try to stop us.’

  ‘You got that right,’ said Nat. ‘We’ve got two weeks – that’s it.’

  Mike and Kathleen rolled out of the driveway, and Nat waved. She was amazed at how relaxed their Dad had been about the roof situation. He’d been fascinated by the room they’d discovered. He hadn’t been able to fit his shoulders through, so he’d examined everything from the edge of the hole. But when they’d shown him the letter and the feather, he’d clammed up.

  ‘He knows something,’ said Jack as they biked up the driveway. ‘Did you see his face change?’

  ‘Yep,’ said Nat, pedalling hard to keep up with her brother’s longer legs. ‘Give him some time. We’ll get the story.’

  Jack and Nat flew down the hill so fast Nat’s ears were burning with wind chill by the time they sped over the one-lane bridge and up the next road. The Te Kaitiakis lived on the edge of a massive bush block that rolled over the hills behind the house. Their driveway was dark and narrow, flanked by native trees. Nat had never been inside. At the letterbox she paused.

  ‘Scared huh?’ said Jack, screeching to a halt beside her.

  ‘Catching my breath,’ said Nat.

  ‘How old were you when Erica Te Kaitiaki’s hair turned white overnight?’

  ‘Maybe seven,’ said Nat, keeping her voice as even as she could.

  ‘What about when Sammy brought that magic rock to school?’

  ‘That wasn’t a magic rock.’

  ‘Was too – it made him levitate!’

  ‘Stop winding me up.’

  ‘Or you’ll do what?’ taunted Jack.

  ‘I’ll tell everyone you’re scared of heights!’

  Jack’s jaw set in an angry line. ‘Hurry up,’ he said. ‘I’ll wait here.’

  Nat was suddenly genuinely scared. If Jack was spooked, maybe she should be too. She gripped her handlebars. Turning back now wasn’t an option – there were too many things left unresolved. She took off down the driveway flat-tack, leaving Jack in her dust trail. As she rode, two fat kereru swooped out of a miro tree and flew beside her, one either side. They cried out when the trees opened up, revealing a small wooden house, then they both executed a perfect loop-de-loop and flew off.

  A wizened man sitting on the porch smiled at her. ‘It is an auspicious day when a young lady arrives with a royal escort,’ he said.

  Nat clambered off her bike.

  ‘Come here child,’ he called. ‘It is customary for the chief to hongi the princess. ’

  ‘Um –’ said Nat, ‘I’m not a princess, sorry.’

  He smiled. ‘No? Well, that doesn’t really change anything.’

  Nat frowned. So far, Mr. Te Kaitiaki wasn’t at all what she expected. She rested her bike on the ground and walked towards the house. The old man on the porch looked as though he’d seen three hundred summers and had collected a wrinkle for each one. His skin was the colour of the totara stumps her Dad pulled out of the swamp – golden and shiny. Dark, lively eyes examined her as she approached. She grasped his hand and bent down to press his nose and forehead to her own. As their skin touched, there was a sudden spark, and a series of images flashed before Nat’s eyes, like a film, sped up, but out of order. She jumped back, and saw the old man was watching her carefully.

  ‘Natalia,’ he said, in a voice like whispery wind. ‘My uncle told me about you.’

  ‘I’m usually just called Nat,’ said Nat. ‘Unless I’m in trouble.’

  ‘And I,’ said the old man, ‘am Abraham Arapeta Hokianga Kahu Te Kaitiaki. But you can call me Abraham.’

  Nat decided to get straight to the point. She fished the letter out of her pocket and handed it over. Abraham read it and placed it on the table between them. He produced four small stones from his pocket and anchored each corner of the letter.

  ‘Let them be seen by the sunlight, these words that have been hidden away,’ he said. Then he looked her directly in the eye. Nat jumped involuntarily, as if his full gaze somehow electrified her.

  ‘You have a plan, I imagine?’ he said.

  ‘Find you,’ said Nat. ‘Find out more about Natalia. Have a look in the Glowworm Cave.’ She shrugged. ‘That’s all we’ve got so far.’

  Abraham chuckled. ‘You’re doing well. You only found the room this morning.’

  ‘How’d you know that?’

  ‘I know a few things,’ he said, and Nat watched his ears wiggle.

  ‘Who was Rewi?’ she asked.

  ‘The greatest protector that ever was,’ said Abraham.

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Nat.

  ‘His job was to look after this valley and make sure its secrets remained hidden until the right time,’ said Abraham.

  ‘And what happened to him?’

  ‘He was exiled before the century rolled over last time.’

  ‘Who exil
ed him?’ asked Nat.

  ‘That’s a story for another time,’ said Abraham. ‘It’s a winter story. Will you be here in winter?’ There was hope in the old man’s voice, and Nat began to really warm to him.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Nat. ‘Up until now, we’ve lived with Mum during the school term and in the holidays we stay with Dad. But the farm goes on the market next week.’

  Abraham raised his eyebrows. ‘Really?’ he said. ‘Something must be done about that.’

  ‘That’s what I think!’ said Nat. ‘So – if Rewi was a protector, does that mean there’s treasure?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Abraham. ‘The question was never whether it existed – but where it had been placed. Was there anything else with the letter?’

  ‘Two cave maps,’ said Nat, ‘a copy of Sinbad the Sailor – and this.’ She held out the feather, and the air around it seemed to shimmer.

  ‘Caves I know, Sinbad I have read – but this – this is a real treasure.’

  ‘What is it?’ asked Nat.

  ‘This is the feather of a great eagle. Today they call her after an explorer, Haast. To us, she was the Pouakai. After reading Sinbad, however, you may know her as a roc.’