Nil on Fire Page 27

  Come.

  I was being called.

  With a deep breath, I swam into the hole, feeling my way with my hands and pulling myself along. I surfaced into a small cavern, in the midst of a pool the size of a hot tub. Light leaked from an opening on the far side. Molly popped up beside me and tapped me on the shoulder.

  “You’re mental, you know that?” She grinned.

  I laughed. “Not a bit.”

  Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the dim light.

  “Isn’t that the same carving that’s in that other cave?” Molly said. “The Looking Glass one?” She pointed to the wall, where a single carving watched us: a large eye, five feet across at least, etched inside a diamond. No other carvings were in sight. This cave was significantly smaller than the one housing the Looking Glass pool on the other side of the island, but still had one striking similarity: a passageway, curving inland, curving back, toward the mountain—just past the carving of the eye. It was the source of the light.

  “I’m going in,” I told Molly, climbing out of the water and peeking into the passageway. At its end, light beckoned.

  Molly followed.

  “For the record, this might be a bad idea,” she said.

  “For the record, so noted.” I couldn’t stop smiling. It didn’t feel like a bad idea; it felt like the most perfect idea in the world, the natural thing to do. The right thing to do.

  I felt the rightness of this moment in the very essence of me.

  We made it through the passageway quickly. Now we stood inside another cavern, one with a pool of water bigger than the last; it matched the size and shape of the pool in the Looking Glass Cavern exactly. It too had a skylight, just like the Looking Glass Cavern, but no water poured into the cavern from the hole, only light.

  This cavern radiated light.

  “This is it,” I whispered reverently.

  The water’s surface shimmered like mercury glass, infused with light, not unlike the iridescence of a gate—but richer. Deeper. Like it could birth a gate, like it held life.

  Color rippled beneath the water’s surface, shifting into silver and then disappearing altogether. The water turned clear and pure, then another hint of color would sparkle. Silver flashed. Colors and light and metal swirled and vanished; the water glittered like a diamond.

  I was utterly bewitched.

  “What is this place?” Molly asked. She was looking at the walls surrounding the pool. They were pristine, not a carving in sight. If human hands had touched them, they’d left no sign.

  “I don’t know.” I crouched, mesmerized by the liquid light. I had the urge to touch the pool, like I’d wanted to stroke the captivating onyx of the incoming gate near Black Bay. The water rippled inches from my hand, like a diamond pulse.

  Skye. Whispers in my head crooned like warm silk, begging, wanting.

  Look.

  See.

  I held my hand over the water. In response, the water’s surface brightened, the colors beneath rippling and twinkling and shifting faster. More flashes of silver, more light.

  Yessss, it seemed to say. Touch.

  “Skye, I don’t think you should touch it.” Molly’s voice was worried.

  “It’s okay.” Molly didn’t understand, not like I did. I had to touch it. I had to see.

  I gently touched the water with one finger. It felt more thick than wet. Before I could blink, my entire hand was sucked beneath the surface.

  My mind exploded into a fireball of color and light and sound.

  Me, crouched by the pool, aching to see; Molly, reaching for me, her eyes wide in fear. Rives, spinning around, his face draining of color.

  More.

  Thad, watching Rives stumble, dread squeezing Thad’s lungs; Paulo, shouting for me, the sea stealing his words. Hafthor, leaving the water, certainty in his steps; Davey, searching for Molly, fear in his heart. Lana, facing the mountain, shock on her face; Carmen, glaring at the meadow, hate in her heart. A boy named Dai, curled on the sand, sick with fever.

  More.

  Charley, begging Rika, Uncle Scott’s journal in her hands. My dad, closing his eyes, lifting up prayers.

  More.

  Davey, staring at Molly, aching for her. Charley, touching Thad’s scar, aching for him. Rives, smiling at me, aching for us.

  Zane, surfing beside Lana, riding sheer hope.

  Jillian, clinging to Rives, tears in her eyes.

  A boy with hair like fire, bleeding on the sand.

  A girl with hair like obsidian, collapsing on the rocks.

  Charley, falling into a gate, a scream on her lips.

  Thad, his torso dark with blood, a cheetah on his shoulders.

  A girl with strawberry-blond hair, setting a boy’s broken arm.

  A boy with dark hair, staring at his reflection.

  A boy with a shell necklace, sleeping forever.

  Images played and time blurred, running backward, forward, sometimes horizontally.

  And then everything stopped.

  It was the beginning.

  The choice, and the chosen. The island unfolded, the bloom of a new bud. The first gate rose, blossoming like a flower on the first day of spring.

  There was the prince, regal and brave, striding through the first gate, curiosity and hope in his heart, a snow-white cat following one heartbeat later. The gate closed; the interval chosen. There was the prince, standing tall, marveling at the island’s beauty and peace, his strength and respect for the earth flowing to the island and leaving a mark. There was the princess, waiting outside, head held high despite the fear in her heart, demonstrating a different kind of strength.

  A new time, a new gate. The prince and princess together again, revealing the unbreakable power of a pair.

  I saw it all and felt the same. One after another, the island’s memories became mine, trapped in my head for me to see and understand and feel. Every word spoken, every thought, every choice made. Every victory, every defeat.

  Every life.

  Every death.

  More, the island whispered.

  CHAPTER

  53

  RIVES

  41 DAYS UNTIL THE AUTUMNAL EQUINOX, NEAR TWILIGHT

  Pain ripped through me, cutting and visceral; it sliced so deep it stole my breath and I stumbled. Only the brutal pain wasn’t mine—it was Skye’s.

  Something terrible was happening.

  She never promised.

  “Skye!” I screamed.

  And then I ran.

  CHAPTER

  54

  NIL

  TWILIGHT

  The one called Skye hovered at the breaking point.

  For a whisper of time, the island hesitated, unsure how much she could handle. To shatter her mind would be excruciating and wasteful, yet without the cruelest memory of all, the rest would be worthless. She would not understand, she would not see.

  Either way, there would be a cost. The island understood that, and if she survived, she would come to understand that too.

  The island had no choice left.

  It would borrow from the humans, borrow the emotion they called hope. It would hope the one called Skye was as strong as the island believed her to be, that her mind would not break.

  For the first time, the island opened itself fully to a human: it let the one called Skye see.

  Everything.

  CHAPTER

  55

  SKYE

  41 DAYS UNTIL THE AUTUMNAL EQUINOX, TWILIGHT

  The protective boundaries of my mind shattered. Crystal walls imploded, fragile after all; shards rained down like ice, cold and cutting and slicing through every cell of me. Darkness poured in, unrestricted.

  Unrestrained.

  The pain was excruciating, as it would have been. Was. Is.

  And in that moment, I understood.

  I understood everything.

  Too much.

  CHAPTER

  56

  RIVES

  41 DAYS UN
TIL THE AUTUMNAL EQUINOX, AFTER TWILIGHT

  Skye!

  Nothing.

  No response, not even a whisper. I couldn’t hear her. Couldn’t feel her. My mind filled with worst-case scenarios, raging out of control. Only my legs worked properly. Pumping, scrambling, running, doing whatever it took to get back to her.

  I whipped around the cliff’s corner and nearly knocked Davey down.

  “Where are they?” I grabbed his shoulders. “Where’s Skye?”

  “I was coming to get you. Follow me.”

  He stepped off the ledge and switched to freestyle, kicking hard. I followed. Beneath the water, he pointed to an opening in the rocks, one similar to the oceanside exit of the Looking Glass Cavern.

  I hurtled through the underwater passage. When I surfaced into clear air, I heard my name.

  “Rives!” Molly’s shout was an echo. It bounced around, ricocheting off rock. “In here!”

  In here. In here. In here.

  “Rives!” she shouted again. Fear laced her shout, reminiscent of another shout before: Miya’s. A lifetime ago, lived by a different Rives.

  Molly’s shout faded. I scrambled out of the water and into the dank opening, following the echo and the light. When I burst into the widening space—another cavern, bigger, full of light—Molly lifted her tear-stained face to me. Skye lay in Molly’s arms, eyes closed, head and body still.

  I dropped to Skye’s side. Her skin burned hot, like she had a fever.

  Gently, I brushed Skye’s cheek with my thumb. “Skye?” I whispered, my chest tight.

  Nothing.

  I looked up at Molly. “What happened?”

  “Skye found this place, and I followed her. First the cavern with the eye, then this one. There was water. She touched it, and it sucked her entire arm in, up to her elbow. The water lit up like liquid sunlight, like it was happy. I felt it was happy, ecstatic even. But Skye’s face went white. I pulled her out as fast as I could. Rives…” She swallowed. “Skye only put her hand in the pool for a moment, I promise. Maybe five seconds at the most. But she hasn’t moved since.” Molly glanced around. “And the pool disappeared.”

  “Disappeared,” I repeated.

  Molly nodded. “It seeped into the ground, like it was never here.” She pointed across the cavern. The bottom was bone dry.

  No evidence left of Nil’s poison, just the victim.

  Skye.

  We were trapped inside Nil ground.

  I lifted Skye from Molly’s arms into mine. “I’m going to stay here with her until she wakes up.” If she wakes up, came the cruel whisper.

  Molly was still looking at me. I said, “She can’t swim out when she’s unconscious. Tell Thad, okay?”

  Molly nodded, and left.

  Skye didn’t move, other than breathing.

  Mine. Mine. Mine, whispered the breeze.

  No, I thought fiercely. She was in my arms, in my soul. But Skye belonged to no one: not me, and definitely not Nil. Her will and spirit were hers alone.

  Thad showed up, breathing hard. His eyes went directly to Skye. “How’s she doing?”

  “Not good. I think she might have a fever.”

  I felt so helpless. Didn’t know what the hell was wrong, didn’t know how to help.

  Thad sat down and leaned his back against the wall, getting comfortable, like he planned to stay awhile.

  “You don’t have to stay,” I told him.

  “I know.” He closed his eyes.

  A long minute passed.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Not necessary, brother,” Thad said. “We’re getting out of this together. All of us.”

  Inside the cavern, night fell. Time passed. Skye didn’t stir. The light faded completely and the noise in my head grew.

  Rivessssss …

  She’s mine, snarled the darkness. I’ve touched her. Felt her. Claimed her.

  No, I lashed out. Lashed back. She is not yours, and she never will be.

  Too late.

  The two words echoed in my head. Laughter followed, smug and satisfied; it bounced off cerebral walls, burying deep.

  Hour after hour, taunt after taunt.

  Skye didn’t wake.

  Dawn broke, shooting light into the cavern. Skye lay as still as death, her skin still hot. Thad looked like he’d pulled an all-nighter, like me. My mouth was dry. My head, bruised.

  “Thad, we have to get her out of here. Now.”

  “No argument there, brother. Just tell me how.”

  CHAPTER

  57

  NIL

  DAWN

  Toying with the male, Rives, had been exceptionally fun. He was so vulnerable, so emotive, his greatest weakness easily read and just as easily manipulated. The island had baited him until he stopped responding, forcing the island to look elsewhere for fun.

  Taunting the male, Thad, had been less rewarding. His link with his mate buffered his mind; there were few cracks, no fissures. No open window for fear to pass through.

  And the female, Skye, had refused to play at all. The link to her mate fractured, her mind had shut down, gone blank.

  Unsatisfying, the island thought. And unproductive.

  Perhaps that was why when the male, Hafthor, called to the trio through a sliver of rock, the island cared little if they heard or answered. The island had lost interest in entertainment; instead it sought power. It needed the latter to have the former.

  Power first, it decided.

  The island turned toward the male, Dai, hovering as he clung to life. The island quivered, anticipating the final slip, the one that would mark him as the island’s forever.

  CHAPTER

  58

  SKYE

  40 DAYS UNTIL THE AUTUMNAL EQUINOX, DAWN

  Everything felt raw: my head, my limbs, my heart. Every cell in my body ached.

  It took a monumental effort to open my eyes. Around me, ghosts moved and swirled, their stories now mine, etched on my brain for life. Rives stared at me, as real as the ghosts, as if I’d conjured him up too.

  “Skye.” His eyes burned too bright. “Are you hurt?”

  Hurt, I thought. Such an insignificant word. Hurt couldn’t begin to describe what had happened to me; hurt barely brushed the surface. My brain had been turned inside out and set on fire; my body, too.

  “I’m so tired.” My voice sounded different. Thin, and distant.

  Hollow.

  The light in the cavern dimmed.

  “Hello?” Hafthor’s voice rang down from above.

  “Down here!” Rives called.

  Hafthor’s face filled the skylight, completely blocking the light. “I found this opening. I think I can enlarge it, and you can lift Skye up through the hole to me. Stand back.”

  Rives shielded me with his body, the warmth of his chest pressing close. Blistering fear and want seared through me with his touch.

  Too much.

  I closed my eyes. Around us, pebbles fell like rain; I felt the shower of dirt and rock as Hafthor pounded away at the rock above. Stop, I wanted to say. This place was sacred, a place that should not be disturbed. And yet, it also felt right. The radiance I’d felt before was gone; something had shifted.

  It hurt to be awake.

  *

  I woke hours later in Hafthor’s arms. We were moving through the grayed lava field, under a scorching Nil sky. The light stung my eyes, making me shut them as quickly as I’d opened them.

  Around me, everyone was talking about me.

  She’s burning up.

  Is she in a coma?

  What did the water do to her?

  It wasn’t water; it was something else.

  Eyes closed, I let it all sink in. Now wasn’t the time to wake or talk. I couldn’t begin to discuss what happened until I’d sorted through it myself. I retreated, into myself; I sifted through one memory at a time, knowing it was too much to absorb at once. It was still too much. Minutes and moments played and shifted, bits of the past see
king traction in the present.

  Time passed, my mind a mess, my mental walls in shambles, unable to be rebuilt. It didn’t matter; the barriers were no longer necessary. There was no need to keep out what had already poured in.

  I retreated deeper, away from the past, away from the present. Away from me. I found a place deep inside me, untouched by Nil. No color, no sound, just pure white walls. Impenetrable.

  Mine.

  In that quiet moment, in my private room of clean white walls empty of all but me, I breathed. I rested. And then everything clicked.

  The past and present merged into one; the depth and breadth of clarity was stunning. This moment, this now, was yesterday’s future.

  And I needed to see tomorrow.

  Flinging open the door, I stepped outside my private room. The whiteness fell away; memories roared back. Around me broken pieces tumbled together, the past reforming into a portrait of the future. The lines vanished; the pieces became one.

  One future. Two paths.

  I saw the path less taken.

  In that clear moment, I knew exactly what to do, what had to be done.

  CHAPTER

  59

  RIVES

  40 DAYS UNTIL THE AUTUMNAL EQUINOX, LATE AFTERNOON

  Hafthor carried Skye the entire way back.

  I protested, but Hafthor refused to relent. “I am to do this,” he’d said in a calm but unshakable tone. “The island told me. It is what she needs.”

  More like what the island wants, I thought bitterly. Keeping us apart, creating distance between us.

  Nil was plotting and planning and using us all.

  My fists ached from clenching them. I shook them out, watching Skye’s head lie motionless against Hafthor’s chest. At least the guy was a beast, Iceland’s version of Captain America. I knew he wouldn’t drop her, I just wanted to be the one holding her.

  Our trip back was as uneventful as our trip out. I catalogued a horse, a buffalo, a lemur, and a giraffe. Skye would’ve caught the irony, but her eyes were shut tight.

  Back in the City, Hafthor put Skye in her bed. I sat with her, holding her hand. She looked smaller somehow, tucked under a sheet.