Whitu sprinted over the short scrub of keikei fern, afternoon sunlight spearing through the branches. He dodged the juvenile yaka trees, keeping his spear hiked upright to avoid unnecessary snags.

  This will be my moment of triumph, he thought. Leading as he should always have, the elder of the three of his hunter brethren. Whitu had been foolish chasing the moa and so deserved his new position bringing up the left flank. Now, as hunt lead, he would be the one to face off against the Baby Eater first and perhaps deliver the killing blow. A new scent passed on the breeze, and he sniffed a moment, trying to gauge a direction of origin. He’d made it out of the stand of yaka and now charged past a narrow stream. Bubbling waters carved a path through the forest, and he traced it up to an outcrop of large limestone boulders, some twice his height. Changing direction, he headed up the bank towards them outcrop; I must be close to the ponds by now. If the Baby Eater set off the alarms… is that… what is that?

  The smell of decaying flesh intensified, then to his left, as if walking out of the rock itself, two eyes appeared, barely an arm’s length away. Whitu turned, slowing, and soon a face formed around the eyes. A torso, blended into rock now visible. And finally, the giant clubaxe falling from above him.

  A warm squall blew through the barren patch of forest into his face and through his blood-matted hair. Baby Eater stopped in the middle of the clearing to sniff as it passed. It blew westerly and held a promise of rain but no scent of prey. He bit the eagle’s head, chewed gristle and brain into a satisfying paste, and swallowed greedily. The bird had squawked too loudly when he stripped the feathers from it and had to crush it before it gave away his position. He wondered who might have been listening. The eagles had scared him at first, their talons tearing into his face, aimed for his eyes. I’ve never been attacked by an eagle before, he thought and wondered if they were trained. He’d heard three signals from up the valley before the attack and guessed these were the hunters the pale boy meant.

  He moved faster now, feeling surer about the path he needed to take, more convinced about the trap played out in front of him. His stomach churned and cramped, so he squatted quickly, before defecating a short burst of bloody shit. Memories of his previous meal, the richness of the flesh, warmed his insides. He smiled happily at the memory, tenderness in the meat to match the tender preparation. But he had been greedy with the catch and had eaten all of it in one meal. A boy of six summers but fleshy. Fattened by the village food, kumara and taro, and root vegetables, he had trouble recalling its names.

  He walked a couple of steps again before sniffing. People smell. Disappear. He heard the hunter before he saw him running from the direction of the pond. Soon he will arrive, and soon, I will fight.

  He felt sweat begin to slide down his body as the morning started to warm, and now waiting, he could sense it collect and drip from his nose. My mana will empty soon, and I will be visible again. But before his magical power extinguished entirely, the hunter appeared from around the bend, wearing a dog-skinned cape tied at the waist, and carrying a pathetic spear. Baby Eater noticed the only adornment his enemy wore was a shrunken head, tied to a harakeke shoulder belt, bobbing up and down as he ran. He exhaled and returned to the living world.

  The hunter lifted his spear in defense, but Baby Eater’s weapon was already swinging. He grinned, his victory assured, caving in the hunter’s head with a thunderous blow and splitting the skull in twain. Blood erupted from the gaping wound like a Takalo Foto spewing lava. He pulled his clubaxe away and screamed into the dead man’s face, taunting him with a battle cry. It felt good to kill a hunter. It splits like a melon. Blood, skull, brains, he noticed, not the meat I care for. Another battle cry scattered birds into the overcast sky, leaving the giant standing alone over the body. Blood and sweat tracked down the hard wooden blade’s edge, merging into a single drop. He licked off the blood and laughed and laughed.

  Iwa heard it first and stopped mid-stride. Waru, shorter and stockier than her, and bringing up the rear, stopped alongside. He wore a flax rain cloak and held an identical spear to Whitu, with his long, curled hair was tied up in a top-knot. They were about twenty feet apart now, the stream between them. Her brother watched the skies. She too looked up as a flock of kereru flew overhead, above the forest canopy, away from unseen danger.

  A sound... a burst of crazed, cackling laughter reverberated through the forest.

  Waru kneeled, then taking the nose flute tied around his neck, he indicated Iwa his intent. His big sister shook her head before she too kneeled. She was tall and wiry and wore a fur maro with tāniko borders. Both shoulders were covered by a pake covering, while her long black hair was adorned with two huia feathers. Both ears pierced with shark tooth pendants attached. Even in a hunt, she found time to look her best, he thought. She unhooked the tewhatewha axe from a sling behind her and nodded at him. He lowered the flute and picked up his spear again.

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  After a few minutes of waiting, they continued in silence. Each step measured to be as soundless as possible. Soon they make it to the glade as planned, where the alarms were set. It was empty of Baby Eater and of Whitu.

  Another warbling cackle rose into forest skies. As if in response the volcano Takali Foto rumbled from afar. Waru dropped to his knees again at the sound. He looked over to Iwa’s position, further ahead on the opposite flank. She had stopped to listen. Waru felt a wetness on his knee and when he passed his hand over to wipe it away he drew back blood. A lot of it spread across the grass. Blood has been spilled here, he worried, but that laugh is not my brother. His stomach twisted at the thought of Whitu in trouble. Iwa had turned to him, and he raised his hands to show the blood. She nodded before searching the area for more. After a moment, she stood and turned again to him, showing her hands smeared in blood. The trail led towards the pond further down the valley. This time when he raised his flute, she showed no objection. He made a rising call imitating an enraged poukai before both began a sprint towards the pond.

  Iwa and Waru met at the pond. He on the one side while she was on the opposite.

  “Empty.” Waru moved silently to Iwa’s side.

  “Search the area.”

  Knee-tall grass and giant flax hid nothing. The wood was silent. Iwa pointed towards a clearing in the forest, leading to a stand of mighty totara trees. They continued on past the pond further down the valley, towards it.

  “Up ahead. Look, it’s him!”

  “Baby Eater!”

  A giant, humanlike figure emerged from the shadows, wiping his blade across the totara’s trunk. His body was about the same width as the totara tree trunks. Baby Eater had strung up Whitu’s headless body to a branch, using harakeke rope. His flesh had been stripped of skin, gutted, and hung to bleed out. Alongside Whitu were the eagles’ remains.

  Iwa screamed and fell to the ground wailing. “Whitu! My brother! You killed my brother!”

  Baby Eater picked up Whitu’s kidney from the ground and chewed the top off. “Hellooooo! Oi! Come see your brother! While his spirit is still amongst us. He wants to kiss you goodbye!”

  Iwa burst into tears. “Whitu!”

  At the sight of his brother hung up like a piece of meat, Waru became enraged, the pain in his knee forgotten. He changed direction, stepping off his left foot, to charge directly at Baby Eater.

  Baby Eater moved behind Whitu’s lifeless body, to his left, behind the totara. From Waru’s vantage, he simply vanished, blended into the afternoon shadows as if another totara.

  Iwa called out from behind him. “Waru! Don’t rush him! Wait for me! Let’s flush him out!”

  Waru checked her position. She approached from the other side of the stand twenty paces away, where they could flank him. He slowed himself, waiting until she was closer. Iwa had shifted her axe from left to right hand before readying to strike.

  “Arggh!” Baby Eater erupted from behind the tree, charging towards her with a blood-soaked grin. The monster held his axe hilt with both hands, low with the top spike pointed towards her. “Your brother is calling out for you!”

  The Baby Eater threw something towards her. It looked like a fuzzy blanket with four long tails trailing in the air.

  “Seee! HERE HE IS!”

  She set to block the incoming attack but quickly recognised it as her brother’s skin when it struck her. Whitu’s face was stuck in a grotesque silent scream, eyeless and emptied. My gods! It’s Whitu’s skin. The Baby Eater has thrown it to distract me.

  Baby Eater smashed in the girl’s face with a low-rising, bone-shattering, axe blow.

  He turned to the remaining hunter. “Her head is smashed in. What a shame. That mouth would have made a good toilet.”

  He swiveled and readied for an attack from the last standing warrior, his blood lust raised. Here he comes feinting to the right trying to slice into my gut. Baby Eater wound up, turning on his feet, and extended his weapon arm out towards his attacker, releasing his mighty clubaxe. Blood and teeth erupted into the air. “Eat it.”

  “Arrhhggaaaa!” The clubaxe smashed into the boy, snapping his head back violently, releasing an involuntarily cry of pain.

  Baby Eater retreated again now but grabbed the girls axe left beside her cacass. He slinked back into the protection of the totara trees, barely stifling a high pitched giggle.

  From the shadow he watched the last one step forward. Both his siblings now slain and needing rethink his strategy. The boy felt around his mouth, spitting blood onto the ground, before picking up his clubaxe.

  “Take it boy. Try and wield it.”

  The remaining hunter struggled for a moment, trying to lift it with one hand. But after only a few steps, he drops it to the ground.

  “You die ow unt!” He shouts and curses while he goes to pick up his original weapon, a short spear like the other boy, and walks back towards him.

  Takali foto rumbled again, the ground shaking in a fit. A downpour of rain starts begins while thick clouds darkened out the sky. He approached without caution, intent on confronting him instead of flushing him out. Baby Eater remained hidden behind the biggest totara, stepping around to keep the tree between them.

  “You’ ave done weh to get this far alive Baby Eater!”

  “Come. Fight. Let’s finish this little one?” Baby Eater taunted.

  He followed Baby Eater and shuffled between the body hanging from the tree. SNAP! Baby Eater pulled tight the slack as the snare caught the boy. He circled around the trunk as the boy flipped violently upwards into the air, his left foot secured by a tight loop of flax rope.

  The boy slammed into the trunk, bracing himself with his hands. Baby Eater tied off the loose end, looping it over the first branch while the boy screamed in rage.