Nil on Fire Page 10

  For a long moment, the two stood still, a clear face-off, a total déjà vu moment. I flashed back to a similar standoff on Nil. The only thing missing was the Man in the Maze as a backdrop.

  “You don’t get to decide,” Maaka said finally. “It’s not your choice. Or mine.”

  “Then whose is it?” Skye snapped.

  “No one you know. Go home, Skye. Good-bye, Rives.” Maaka started to walk away, and I stepped in front of him.

  “So that’s it? You’re done? You’re here, you said your piece to the elders, and you’re washing your hands of that island? To hell with anyone else who goes? Is that it?”

  Something like regret flashed through Maaka’s eyes. “It’s not that easy, Leader Rives.”

  “Nothing worth fighting for ever is,” I said. “And the end of Nil is worth fighting for.”

  He studied me, his gaze thoughtful. Like he was weighing words, deciding trust. “Her name is Lana,” he said finally. “The choice is hers. I gave her my recommendation that the journey is no longer worth the risk: I gave her my knowledge of the island as it is now, and I gave my word that I will not follow her tomorrow. I can do no more.”

  His word bound him, not me. Not us. It felt like a total Maaka cop-out.

  “You mean you won’t do more,” I said.

  He shrugged. “Good luck, Leader Rives. Speak from the heart.” He paused, his expression odd. “Remember what I told you.”

  “Always.” I looked sideways at him and almost laughed. “So I guess this was the middle after all, right, Maaka?”

  He turned away, toward the Death Twin. “The middle,” he repeated slowly. “The end. A new beginning. I don’t know anymore.” His tone reflected an inner confusion that almost made me feel sorry for him. Almost. “Only time will tell,” he said quietly. “It does not run backward.” He spun back to me, his dark eyes oddly fiery. “Remember what I told you.” He offered his hand, a first for us. “Lana is my cousin. She is strong. Like her.” He nodded at Skye. “I would prefer Lana not go. But her mind is set. Perhaps you can make the difference. Perhaps you will bring this cycle to an end.” His eyes flicked between me and Skye, and I wasn’t entirely sure which of us he was referring to.

  But it didn’t matter. Like Charley and Thad, Skye and I were a package deal.

  I shook Maaka’s hand, wondering if he’d ever man up like he should. “I’ll try.”

  He nodded. “That’s all you can do.”

  Maaka turned and walked away. I had the strangest sense that this was our true good-bye, that I’d never see him again.

  “What the hell did you just agree to?” Thad’s voice cut through my quiet revelation.

  “A trip to the Death Twin tomorrow,” Skye said. She sounded disturbingly cheery. “Who’s in?”

  CHAPTER

  24

  NIL

  BEFORE DAWN

  The island opened one eye.

  It would rest again, but for now, it would wake. It must wake, so when noon came, it could call the ones it needed. The one it needed. Until then, it would watch those already here. Like the one called Paulo, one who shared the island’s sense of anticipation, one who might even share the island’s true hope. He needed no guidance, which was fortunate since the island could spare no energy for it, not now; all the power the island had left would be spared for moments it must act, and for the final moment, when failure to act would equal failure.

  Time would tell.

  It always did.

  *

  The sun rose over Mount Nil, twinkling with promise. Honeyed light cascaded down the peak in rivulets of brilliant gold. On the far side, out of sight, the silent platform sat ready. As he stared at the mountain, Paulo pictured the black platform drenched in light, the swirls and lines on the ground filled with glittering white sand, waiting.

  It was time.

  With effort, he turned away from the mountain. By the firepit, a small group sat quietly, some staring off into space, others picking at their food. He’d set a dozen whole fish to roast before dawn; he’d retrieved the full water gourds from the Cove, too. He was preparing the only way he knew how. Hafthor stood, his back to the pit, gazing toward the sea and his little houses. Molly sat near Davey, pushing a piece of fish around on a wooden plank. Calvin crouched on his feet, poking the embers with a long stick, stoking the coals. Amara sat by the fire, near no one. As usual, she wasn’t eating, or talking. She was intently carving a wooden stake with cold precision.

  “Morning,” Paulo said. All five lifted their chins to look at him. He took in their faces, their anxiety and distress and ever-present panic running just below the surface of their expressions. Not for the first time, he marveled at the effortlessness with which he’d watched Rives lead the City before. At the time, Paulo had been so concerned with himself, with his journey. Now all these faces, all painted with their own brand of fear, looked at him for guidance. Looked to him.

  He wasn’t entirely sure that he was up to the task.

  Still, here he was.

  It also occurred to him that they didn’t look as afraid as they should.

  He cleared his throat and his head. “I’ll be back in a few days,” Paulo informed the group. “All the water gourds are full; I refilled them from the Cove this morning. The food stores are as full as they can be, but ration the dried food as best you can; it’s all we have. We have a new chicken, so at least we have eggs. Don’t waste them. Hafthor will fish each day at the traps. I would suggest that everyone work to keep the firepit going. A night watch with torches wouldn’t be a bad idea either.”

  Calvin’s eyes went wide as Molly’s narrowed.

  “Where are you going?” she asked. Her gaze was wary.

  “There is something I have to do. While I’m gone, look to Hafthor for any questions. He’s been here the longest besides me.”

  Arms crossed, Hafthor tipped his head in the barest of nods.

  “I should be back in a few days.” Possibly with a newcomer, he thought. The crescent moon had gleamed in warning, although he hadn’t needed it; he knew. Tomorrow was the Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year, and the most powerful gate of the year as well. To be called to the noon gate was an honor among his people, yet he fervently hoped no one answered. But something was happening today; he’d felt the island sucking in energy for the past few days, and last night he’d barely slept, so in tune with the silent vibration of the island at its core. The crescent moon had called; he would not risk being late.

  Five faces, ten eyes. All still trained on him, waiting.

  He relented.

  “I can’t tell you right now, but when I return, I’ll tell you where I went and why. You have my word.”

  Hafthor gave Paulo a satisfied nod; Davey looked annoyed, as usual. Molly’s expression stayed intense, and troubled. Amara had no expression at all. She returned to scraping the piece of wood with a jagged black rock, her movements slow and calculating. Paulo hadn’t admitted it to anyone, but he found Amara slightly frightening. Since she’d arrived, she’d focused her time on making weapons, not friends.

  Calvin threw his stick into the fire and stood. “All I want to know is what animals live here, all right? Like the ones that can kill us. Because I know I saw a jaguar out there. And Davey here says he saw a tiger, which is flat-out insane. And I want to know what else we can eat because I’m damn hungry and all I’ve had is fish and raw eggs for two weeks straight.”

  “Welcome to paradise,” Davey muttered.

  “I saw a rabbit this morning,” Paulo said evenly. “You can trap it. You also can cook eggs over the fire, or go south for coconuts, pineapple, and redfruit. As you know, guava is to the north. There are some crab traps set to the north as well; I haven’t checked those lately. But.” Paulo paused, making sure he had Calvin’s full attention. “Avoid the mudflats; they’re directly inland from the Cove. There are at least five hippos there by my last count and they’re highly dangerous. There are monkeys there too, which
can be more trouble than you’d expect.” He fought a wry smile. “And like I first said, I don’t know what other animals are here, besides us. But I know they’re hungry, just like we are. Don’t let the fire go out.”

  And with that, he left.

  It occurred to him he should be more encouraging, but lately, he’d felt that reality was the better course of action. He had three months left to stay alive, to keep the others alive, and then in exactly three months’ time, he’d have a second chance to try to correct his colossal failure.

  But first, he had to get to the platform.

  There was no time to waste.

  CHAPTER

  25

  SKYE

  SUMMER SOLSTICE, DAWN

  “They’re gone.” Rives stepped away from the trees, his hands empty.

  “Gone?” I pawed through the brush, desperately hoping our canoes would magically appear. They didn’t.

  “Stolen. Taken. Confiscated. Commandeered.” The corner of his mouth quirked slightly. “Gone.”

  “Got it.” I whirled away, fighting a scream of frustration.

  “I know.” Rives’s voice was soft. He looked around, already calculating, already one step ahead. “We need to secure another mode of transportation. Pronto.”

  “And this is why we should’ve left last night,” I retorted.

  He stopped his visual search. “Do you really want to waste time rehashing last night’s argument?”

  “No.” I glanced down the beach, desperately trying not to freak out.

  I’d wanted to camp out on Spirit Island—the Death Twin housing the stationary gate—last night, but Rives refused to navigate the waters toward the Death Twins in the dark. He’d put his foot down, literally. I swear, he’d actually stomped. So, picking my battles, I’d opted out of that one, but now I wished I’d fought for it.

  Black sand stretched in both directions, empty of people and all seaworthy transportation. In the distance, bathed in dawn’s golden light, the Death Twins beckoned, frustratingly out of reach. An ocean swim was out of the question. We needed a boat, now.

  The solstice clock was ticking.

  I spun around and came face-to-face with Charley.

  “We need to find a boat to borrow,” I told her.

  “Commandeer,” Rives added helpfully.

  “Whatever.” Thad’s dour mood sliced through the moment. “Let’s just find a boat that floats and get this thing done.”

  For an island out in the middle of nowhere, oddly enough, all the personal watercraft had mysteriously gone missing. It took us three hours to acquire a pitiful-looking dinghy, and, with my dad’s help, we finally managed to get it in the water.

  “Go,” my dad said gruffly. “But please be careful. I love you, Skye.”

  “Love you too, Dad. And don’t worry. The four of us will stick together. We’ll be back early afternoon.”

  He waved, and gave a pointed nod to Rives. “Good luck.”

  “Let’s hustle,” Thad said, paddling ferociously. “The sooner we have our gateside chat, the sooner we’re done. For all we know, the girl won’t show.”

  “That’s the best-case scenario,” Rives said.

  “Don’t tell me the worst,” Thad warned. “Don’t say it, don’t think it. Just—don’t.”

  No one said a word. We fell into a steady rhythm as the four of us stroked directly toward the Death Twin. I wondered if we all had our worst-case scenarios. I wasn’t sure what mine was, but I knew it involved failure.

  Come, the girl in my head—I still couldn’t bring myself to call her Talla—urged. Hurry.

  I fought a rising sense of panic.

  One hour, I thought. One hour to get to Spirit Island, one hour to convince Maaka’s cousin not to walk through that gate, one hour to break the gate. And as for that last one, I had absolutely no clue how to do it. I didn’t even know if destroying a gate was possible.

  “Time to bail,” Rives called.

  “Bail?” His words wrenched me out of my head. Dark water crashed against unforgiving rock with a vengeance, spitting whitewater froth between the two islands. We weren’t anywhere near close enough to swim. “Jump out? Are you crazy?”

  “Yes, I’m crazy. It’s why I’m doing this with you.” He handed me his paddle. “But I don’t mean jump out. I mean bail, literally.” He pointed at my feet, where cold water wrapped my ankles in liquid shackles. “We’re sinking. And we need to get through the channel between the islands in one piece.” The determined sea god Rives was back. “Thad and I’ll bail while you two paddle.”

  “Great,” I said.

  “Just super,” Thad agreed, scooping up a frothy handful and tossing it overboard.

  Rives and Thad were a silent bailing machine while Charley maneuvered us into the slough between the islands. Massive black walls sloped away from us, glistening with water, not unlike the walls of the Crystal Cove back on Nil. Just when I thought It’s taking too long, we popped out from the narrow passage, bursting into brighter light as the current slacked. The narrow beach where I landed after following Paulo so many months ago waited thirty feet away. There were no canoes in sight, no boats of any sort. And no people.

  “Looks like a ghost town,” Thad murmured.

  Rives said nothing, his face chiseled stone.

  Hurry, Skye! the girl begged without break; it was a deafening chorus of one.

  “Faster!” I cried, digging my paddle deep into the water.

  The dinghy jerked to an abrupt halt; wood splintered with a resounding crack near my feet as the boat ran aground on a rock. Water rushed in through the floorboard like a geyser, filling quickly. The four of us spilled into the breakwater. Half walking, half bodysurfing, we made for shore. The boat sank behind us without a trace.

  We staggered onto the beach, panting and soaking wet. The weakest swimmer, I was dead last.

  Ahead, the tree line beckoned. Beyond it, the foliage thickened, too dense to peer through.

  Skye!

  “We need to hurry,” I said, moving toward the trees without stopping.

  “Skye.” Rives touched my arm, his jaw working as he fought to stay in control. “Stay close to me. Please?”

  “You stay with me.” I pulled his hand reassuringly. “C’mon.”

  Thad fell into step beside me. “Skye, tell me you’ve got the words ready.”

  I started to smile, to adopt a fake-it-till-you-make-it sort of confidence, then I switched to brutal honesty and my ghost of a smile vanished. “Thad, I have to do this. I hear Nil every day; I hear the island right now. Like a shout in my head. It’s screaming for me to come. Like Charley said, it’s closure. The island wants us here, to stop the gate from taking another.”

  Thad didn’t look convinced.

  “You don’t have to come.” Impatience gave my words unintended bite. “You can stay right here, Thad. On this beach. No judgment from me.” I started jogging toward the trees. I didn’t wait to see if Thad followed; I could barely think with the noise in my head.

  Come, she begged.

  CHOOSE ME.

  Her words filled all the space in my head, pleas bathed in blood and hope and life and emotion as I jogged along; an invisible thread tugged me down the path I could have walked blindfolded. The leafy canopy shrank as we neared the center of the small island. Rives hadn’t left my side. Thad and Charley kept pace on our heels.

  “Someone’s already there,” I said.

  “Who?” Rives asked. “Lana?”

  Was it Lana? I didn’t answer, because I didn’t know. I just felt.

  “I think it’s a girl,” I murmured. “But I’m not sure who.” And I felt the presence of a boy, which made no sense at all.

  Apparently I still hovered on the edge of crazy.

  Abruptly the trees ended; a black rock clearing sprawled before us like a small stage, one with a single player. A crisp memory rushed back, the past mixing with the present. Paulo, kneeling on the black rock, tracing lines on the ground in t
he dark. Only this time it was a girl kneeling in the light. Her long brown hair fell around her shoulders; she wore a ring of white flowers around her head. More white blossoms were strewn around the platform. Sand as white as sugar filled the rings and lines cut into the ground. The juxtaposition of white on black was stunning, highlighted by the pure light filtering down through the trees.

  I stepped onto the black rock, my bare toes brushing the outermost circle filled with white sand. Instantly, the invisible voice fell silent; the mental barrage stopped. I was blissfully alone in my head.

  I could think.

  “Lana.” I spoke softly.

  Her head snapped up, her mouth open in surprise. It was the girl I’d seen yesterday with Maaka. Her gaze swept across us and fell on Rives. Her eyes narrowed as she pointed at him. “This is my time, my gate, not yours. Wait your turn like the rest of us.” I realized she thought Rives was an islander, like her.

  He looked taken aback.

  “Lana, it’s not what you think.” Rives raised his hands. “No one is here to take your gate or your turn. But you don’t want to go. I promise you don’t want to go to that island. We’ve all been there and it’s not the place you think it is.”

  “He’s right,” I said. “The island has changed, Lana. And not for the better.”

  “Sure, there’s fish and shrimp and gorgeous black sand beaches where you can meditate to find your inner chi or personal path or whatever,” Rives said blandly. “But there’s a dark side, and it’s not pretty. Ask any one of us. All four of us went there, and we’re here to convince you that it’s a bad idea. I promise you, Lana, you don’t want to go.”

  A small goat bleated from the edge of the clearing, followed by the snap of a branch. Zane trotted out from the trees, his bleached-blond hair falling into his eyes. Seeing us, he stopped and broke into a wide grin. “Whoa. What is this, old home week?”

  “Zane!” I ran over and hugged him. I hadn’t seen him since our group Nil reunion six weeks ago, and his sudden appearance here made no sense. He squeezed me back, then slapped Rives on the back.