Nil on Fire Page 17

  “Hafthor?” Zane’s eyes widened. “Dude, you look like a full Thor.”

  Davey choked back a laugh as Hafthor raised his eyebrows.

  “Where is everyone else?” Paulo asked.

  “Molly’s on the beach,” Davey said, realizing one beat too late he’d answered about Molly’s whereabouts first. “Calvin too. Amara is sharpening a wooden spear by the supply hut.” He shrugged. “That’s it.”

  “Small group,” Thad commented.

  “It was a clean slate,” Rives said. Beside him, Skye’s face paled.

  Thad. Rives. Skye. Zane.

  Davey snapped his fingers as recognition hit. “You lot were already here! Your names are on those planks, the ones stretching for meters.” He cocked his head. “So where’ve you been?”

  “Home,” Rives said, his face unreadable. “And now we’re back.”

  “What?” Cold rushed across Davey’s skin, like the afternoon heat had been abruptly sucked from the air. “You went home? And now you’re back? Bloody hell. Why?”

  “Let’s go to the City and we’ll tell everyone at once.” Rives walked as he spoke; the rest of the group followed. “Davey, I know you want info,” Rives said, glancing behind me, then carefully screening the trees, “and you’ll get it. But first we need food, some water, and to sit for a second without wolves or lions or anything else trying to make a meal out of us, all right?” Now he looked straight at Davey.

  Davey nodded robotically.

  Back in the City, his gaze went immediately to the wooden wall of names, some that now had faces. Rives. Thad. Skye. At least now he knew what a check meant: It meant someone had left. Someone had survived.

  But why would anyone come back?

  *

  Darkness fell fast and thick, leaving Lana cold. A blanket of black wrapped the island tight, cloaking the trees in shadow and shrinking the world around her. Stars burst overhead, fiery ice in the sky, as clear and bright as she’d ever seen at home. A stone’s throw away, a semicircle of thatched houses ringed an open center, a crackling fire burning at its heart. The girl with wild, curly golden hair who had tried to stop her this morning sat by the fire next to another girl, one whose face tilted toward the first girl, listening. From her vantage point through the trees, Lana could make out the blue streak in the second girl’s dark hair; it caught the firelight like sapphire facets. The two talked animatedly, bodies as relaxed as their smiles, an easy camaraderie in the making. Longing welled inside Lana, and she stifled it immediately. She wasn’t here to mingle and make friends, especially with haoles.

  The wind shifted, and Lana’s mouth watered. Too nervous to eat before she left this morning, all she’d had today was fruit. Something wrapped in green leaves sat nestled over the coals; it smelled delicious, hinting of mango and meat. Her grandmother’s advice rang in her ears. Make your own way; seek your own path. Each choice bears witness to who you will become.

  Turning away was one of the toughest things Lana had ever done.

  She crept away, chilled and furious. She was hiding from a City built by her people, with huts left for her and others like her yet to come. The haoles were squatters, taking what was hers, just as the haole Carmen had hijacked her cave.

  An animal howled in the distance, an eerie sound with a snarling echo too close for Lana’s comfort. If only she were at the cave. That was the plan, and she was struggling to come up with another, a failing she placed squarely on the haoles’ heads. She knew the City had been taken over by the haoles, yet now she’d have to hide among them for one night, until she could make her way to the next place her grandmother had advised.

  Moving softly so as to alert no one of her presence, Lana crept forward, toward the most distant hut, the one farthest north. Slipping inside, Lana discovered an island bounty: clothes, twine, satchels, even sandals. And spears. Lots of spears. Clearly it was the cache where Paulo had gathered supplies.

  A stack of cloth caught her eye. Sheets, she thought. An unnecessary island luxury, but since she was here, she might as well borrow them. After all, it was just one night.

  As silent as the night, Lana removed the sheets from the shelf, spread one on the ground, and wrapped herself in the second. It was just enough to ward off the night chill.

  She would sleep here, for one night, and then move on.

  After all, this was just her beginning. She had nine months to go.

  *

  The island let her sleep. It kept the other humans away from her temporary resting place, through whispers and suggestions and cold pressure when needed, all read as their own. The female, Lana, had isolated herself well, wielding her own pride to push others away, and the island was more than happy to strengthen her self-imposed walls.

  Isolation and pride always worked in the island’s favor. The arrogant humans never understood until it was too late, their pride blinding them to the truth and keeping them in the dark.

  Which was precisely where the island liked them best.

  CHAPTER

  34

  SKYE

  93 DAYS UNTIL THE AUTUMNAL EQUINOX, BEFORE DAWN

  The ocean rumbled in the distance—the real thing, not my store-bought sleep machine. I’d woken more rested than I’d felt in weeks. For the first night in months, I’d gone eight hours without waking, my sleep dreamless and deep.

  Nothing about Nil made sense.

  Search.

  The events of yesterday replayed in swift succession. Not unlike my first day here last December, yesterday was a strange déjà vu, only yesterday was a replay of my own experiences, not my uncle’s. At times I’d felt like I’d never left.

  Until we got to the City. Full of new faces, suddenly it seemed as though I’d been gone for longer than three months. Clustered around the firepit, Molly, Davey, Hafthor, Calvin, Kenji, and Amara had listened as we introduced ourselves and shared our history. Calvin had fidgeted while Hafthor sat with unnerving stillness; Davey’s eyes had been calculating, Molly’s more introspective. Kenji seemed remarkably calm. Amara sat alone.

  Rives in his strong, quiet way had been the moderator, fielding questions, offering honest answers and reassuring everyone in the process. Zane had turned in early after nearly falling asleep sitting up. One by one, people had peeled away from the fire and the conversation, to sleep or to murmur among themselves. Out of all the newcomers, I’d spent the most time with Molly, perhaps because she had the most questions. One careful query at a time, Molly had asked about my uncle’s journal and my time here. She’d been fascinated by the Search system, the sheer volume of people who had come and gone, and the mysterious nature of the island itself.

  “Boggling,” she’d said, twisting the blue streak in her hair. “It seems like this place is all about searching, isn’t it? For other people, for food. For the ugly beasties to watch out for. For a safe place to step or sleep or leave your bathers to dry, or for something you can’t see. Something inside yourself to ensure your survival, for something you never needed before, maybe something you didn’t even know you possessed. And now we’re to search for a way to end the mayhem, too?” Her eyes had been keen. “I’m all for a challenge,” she’d said slowly. “But I do wish we knew what to look for.”

  Me too, I’d thought. Me too.

  I ached for something concrete, for something to guide me. Last time, the equinox gate had been my clue, my starting point, and I’d had my uncle’s journal as a handbook. This time, I had nothing, just a burning desire to end this place once and for all.

  Search.

  The word echoed in the breeze; it thrummed in my blood. I gently moved Rives’s hand from my hip to the bed, careful not to wake him, but I didn’t dawdle.

  If there was one thing I’d learned over the past few months, it was that Nil didn’t like to be ignored.

  I walked outside, breathing deeply. Cool air filled my lungs, crisp and clean. The firepit was cold, no torches in sight, lit or otherwise. I remembered that we’d used all the torches w
e had on our last day here, the last time we were here.

  The ripples continue, I thought. We were living the Nil we thought we left behind, a Nil not built for the future.

  To the north and east, greenish predawn light filtered through the leaves, casting shadows for the rising sun to burn away. One shadow moved.

  Then it moved again.

  Cloaked in the night’s lingering gloom, a girl crept from the Shack and slipped into the dark sliver between two trees. She turned north, her thick hair swinging around her shoulders, then glanced back furtively and our eyes caught.

  Lana.

  She spun back around and strode away, her quick steps just shy of a run.

  Does she really think she can lose me? I thought incredulously as I matched her pace. I’d spent three months on this island; so far she’d spent one day. She may be an islander but when it came to Nil, so was I.

  Search, I thought.

  Now I searched for one girl, one who might know something about this place I didn’t. Something she knew based on her past.

  Lana lengthened the space between us and I let her, because a few minutes into our stroll, I knew precisely where she was headed. Sure enough, the trees thinned, then stopped altogether. A gorgeous, clear pool of water filled the space, set into an alcove of rock as dark as slate. A black rock cliff speckled with emerald green rose into the sky, a perfect backdrop for the water falling down its side with a familiar roar.

  At the Cove’s edge, Lana spun around and shot me a haughty glare.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked.

  “Going for a morning walk,” I said innocently. “What about you?”

  “You’re following me.” Her eyes narrowed.

  I sighed, already tired of the drama. “So what if I am. Does it matter?”

  “Of course it does!” she snapped. “I. Just. Want. Privacy.” Lana bit off the words.

  “Funny that you slept in the City, then,” I said sweetly.

  “My cave was taken.”

  “Your cave?” I raised my eyebrows.

  She waved her hand dismissively, like she’d already given away more than she wanted. “Why are you following me?” She held up her hands, showing open palms. “I didn’t take anything from you, I swear on my life.”

  “I didn’t think you did.”

  Lana crossed her arms, cocking her head at me. A long moment passed as Lana and I regarded each other without moving. The roar of the Cove’s waterfall seemed louder in the lull.

  “So.” She drawled out the word, infusing that one syllable with as much disdain as she possibly could. I’m busy, it said. I have more important things to do than stand here wasting time with you. “What do you want?”

  Lana’s tone mimicked Maaka’s detached annoyance perfectly, and it dispatched my last shard of patience. If anyone was wasting time, it was Lana. I wasn’t here to replay the Maaka-Rives dynamic; it wasn’t a cycle to be repeated. This entire Nil cycle wasn’t to be repeated; that was why I was here. The equinox clock was ticking and I had a mission, one that went far beyond the two of us.

  It took all my will not to snap.

  “Lana, you know what I want.” I forced myself to speak calmly. “I want this to stop, for your outdated island tradition to end. I want all the people here right now to get back home safely to the ones they love, and I want teens in both worlds to live without fear of Nil. I want to end this madness. The island must be stopped, Lana. Forever. That is what I want.”

  She stared at me, dark eyes calculating. “Bold,” she finally said. “And rather egotistical, don’t you think? Who gives you the right to decide that this place must end?”

  “The island,” I said unequivocally. “I told you once; I’ll tell you again. I feel its exhaustion, its desperation. And it called me back. I don’t understand what this place is, but I know it’s more than just rocks and dirt. So much more. It’s alive, Lana. Sentient. Knowing. It’s something—otherworldly, possibly beyond my limited human grasp. But I do know this: the island is tired, Lana. And it wants our help.”

  She stared at me, lips pursed.

  No response.

  “You asked me what I wanted, and I told you.” My tone stayed level. “Now I’ll tell you what I want from you. I want you to choose to help us. I want you to think of anything you know that the island fears or wants, or that your history tells you is an island weakness or strength. I want you to think of any special rituals or places or times of day that have meaning or any other super secret island scoop that we don’t know about. That we wouldn’t know about. I want you to comb your mind and your past, and then I want you to share anything that might be important with me. I know your tradition tells you not to speak with us, with haoles, but I promise that’s not so much a tradition as a prejudice.” My eyes never left hers, but my tone softened. “I’m sorry that Americans dropped the bombs and altered your tradition; believe me, I wish that never happened. Desperately, I do. But it did, and now the wild gates are here to stay, along with the predators and unprepared teens they bring. You don’t have to join the City, but know that you can. You also don’t have to make friends, but know that you don’t have to be alone, either. And of course you don’t have to help us, but I really, really want you to. Because when that equinox gate opens in three months’ time, we need all the help we can get, to make sure it never opens again.”

  There.

  All my cards were on the table, and my hand was pretty darn good. Still, Lana wore her poker face well.

  “You know what I want from you?” Lana quirked one brow.

  “What?”

  “Your name.”

  I was taken aback. Had I never introduced myself? Not on the platform? Not today?

  “Skye,” I said slowly. “My name is Skye.”

  Lana nodded. “Well, Skye, I’d say it’s been nice to meet you, but…” She shrugged, her eyes turning cold. “It hasn’t. I don’t know you, or your friends, but all of you—and you especially—seem incredibly determined to tell me what to do, in the one place where, ironically, I’m supposed to choose for myself. You’ve spent time here already, more than me, obviously, and it seems you’ve figured out your path. Well, great for you. But your path doesn’t have to be mine. Your quest doesn’t have to be mine. I just got here, and you’re already telling me when to leave, and what to do.” She paused. “What I want is for you to leave. Me. Alone.”

  “If that’s what you want, I will.” I spoke quietly. “But I can’t guarantee that the island will do the same.”

  “I’ll find out, then, won’t I?” she asked.

  “I worry that you will.” I feared that Lana might not like the island’s attention. I glanced at the Cove, desperately wishing Lana would give up something before it was too late. “Maybe you’ll find what you’re looking for in the Looking Glass Cavern,” I said, trying to be amicable. “Brace yourself, Lana, the water’s icy.” I pointed at the Cove.

  She stared at me. “Point taken.” Then she laughed, more dry than amused. “You act as if you know everything. About this place, about what is right. No wonder you can’t find what you’re looking for.”

  I stepped forward, a rush of anger heating my face. “I never claimed to know everything, Lana. Don’t you see? I just told you I don’t know enough, it’s why I’m asking you for help!”

  She shook her head. “You keep letting yourself think that, Skye. I hope the island gifts me with the Sight.” Her look was scathing. “For I truly would love to know what the island has in store for you.”

  Without another word, Lana turned and walked into the pool. If the icy water stung, she didn’t show it; she walked until the water touched her waist, and then without a backward glance, she dove.

  This time I didn’t follow.

  I turned around and ran smack into Rives’s chest. “Stalker,” I said, looking up in surprise.

  “Coincidence,” he replied, his eyes twinkling.

  Despite myself, I smiled.

&n
bsp; “So things went well with Lana?” He crooked a knowing smile.

  “Oh, I got tons of information. She’s as forthcoming as Maaka.”

  “I figured.” His gaze drifted to the Cove behind me. “Not planning to follow her to the cavern?”

  “What’s the point? She still believes the old island dogma, that this place is one of enlightenment rather than danger. It was like talking to a wall.”

  “Sounds like you rammed up against it.”

  He raised one eyebrow, his message clear: You pushed, maybe too hard. And he was right. I’d been as confrontational with her as I’d been with Paulo once, with the same terrible results. But this time, I had no regrets. Paulo hadn’t been prepared for Nil; Lana had. She had secrets, I knew it. My worry was that maybe Lana didn’t know the answers we needed, maybe even that she didn’t know she had the answers.

  Maybe she doesn’t, whispered the falls.

  Doesn’t what? I wondered. Know that she knows or know at all?

  “I don’t know if you’re talking to yourself right now or someone else,” Rives said, his eyebrow arching higher. “If it’s the latter, I’m not sure I want to know.”

  I opened my mouth to retort when, from far away, far inside, a scream split the air, human and terrified, muffled behind the falls.

  Lana.

  I grabbed Rives’s hand. Together we dashed into the Cove, water splashing around our feet as we headed toward the waterfall. We jogged until we couldn’t, then we swam hard and fast, the cold water feeding my own personal adrenaline rush as Lana’s terrified scream echoed in my ears.

  Together we burst into the vast air pocket behind the falls, side by side, our lungs burning, coming face-to-face with a lanky boy crouched on the damp rock ledge. The moment we surfaced he stumbled back in surprise. He held a sharpened four-prong spear in his right hand that he bobbled as he fell.

  “You scared me, mon.” The boy grabbed his heart, his eyes flicking to Rives and then me. Breaking into an easy grin, the boy laughed to himself. “About like I scared that girl, back in the cave.” He jerked his head toward the passageway entrance. “Mon, I tell you, it is dark in that cave. Like night in the day.” The boy’s accent dripped off each word. Bahamian, if I wasn’t mistaken.