Nil on Fire (33 page)

The darkness wanted her.

It wanted her
dead
.

Rivesssss …

Over the water, through the rain, I heard the papery hiss.

Be fearless …

I closed my eyes, working not to clench my fists. Working to breathe, which right now seemed like a monumental task. It's easy to be fearless when you have nothing to lose.

Me, I had everything.

I'd never been more scared in my life.

 

CHAPTER

48

NIL

MORNING

The one called Rives had weakened.

The island knew there was a strong possibility he would break. He believed he had nearly broken while he was here before, but he was wrong. If anything, he had fought a fracture
there
. But those cracks were minuscule compared to the fissure that was coming. The island hurt for him, for the pain to come. Pain the island itself must deliver.

The island regretted the pain to come, but it did not regret its choice.

It only regretted that there was no choice.

And so it would be.

The pain in his head forced the island to turn away, to turn elsewhere. It turned to one far less powerful, one who was still lost.

*   *   *

Lana huddled in the trees, watching Zane paddle out. Yearning rolled over her as powerful as the towering wave he'd just ridden. A giant blue beauty, Zane had carved it with admirable precision, his board one with the wave, never pressing, his stance relaxed and powerful, bliss on his face.

She wanted that. Not Zane, that was ridiculous. No, she wanted the freedom of the water, a place she knew like the back of her hand. She'd been island raised and island bred, and even though this wasn't
her
island, she knew the water, and it called to her. It called her
here
.

First she'd guiltily raided the storage hut for food, finding salted fish and mounds of guava; she'd been so hungry she'd forced herself to slow down so she didn't get sick. Then she'd huddled in the trees, watching.

“So
this
is your grand plan? Hiding in the bushes?”

Lana turned. A girl stood behind her, hips cocked, thick dark braid, angry eyes. Proud stance.
Carmen
, Lana remembered. The girl from
her
cave.

“Hello, Carmen.” Lana's voice was smooth, giving no hint of anything but control. “Enjoying your island vacation?”

“Here you are, in the shrubs. Watching
them
. And yet you haven't joined them. Why?” The girl's eyes blazed with a hunger Lana didn't like.

“Why should I tell you?” Lana's tone stayed controlled.

“Because I asked.”

Lana smiled, enjoying the flare of fire in Carmen's eyes. She smiled wider. “I have a different path. It might lead here”—she pointed toward the beach, where the heady waves rolled into shore—“or not.” She shrugged. “But I won't be bullied into a choice.” She stared at Carmen.

A long moment passed.

Then Carmen nodded. “So the escape gate. It comes in three months?”

“A little less now,” Lana said.
Did everyone know the island's secrets?
she thought.
Apparently yes.
Suddenly the weight of all the secrets exhausted her. What was the point? She'd been hiding out in caves on the north shore, half starving and totally miserable, until the latest group of people had driven her away, people led by Paulo on a mission that she hadn't bothered to care about. She was finally listening.

She'd reflected enough.

She looked at Carmen. “In less than three months' time, that gate will open. On the mountain, past the meadow, when the crescent moon is high. If you're there, it will take you home. Or…” She paused. “You can take a rogue gate, a wild one, anytime. They come at noon. Which,” Lana said with a wave of her hand, “is now.” The sun was high, the wind still blowing offshore. The waves ramped into perfect blue lines, begging her to ride them. On the far side of the island, gray dusted the sky, a hint of rain. But here, the sky was clear.

Like the water.

Like her path.

Screw it
, she thought. She stood. She leveled her eyes on Carmen. “Good luck, Carmen. I hope you find your way. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a wave to catch.”

Lana turned and didn't look back. Leaving her hiding spot and Carmen behind her, Lana strode to the storage hut, feeling lighter with each step, and picked the smallest surfboard propped against the hut's side. She ran her hands over the smooth wood, history rippling beneath her fingers. With a smile for no one but herself, she tucked the board tight to her hip. Carved by her ancestors' hands, this was one island tradition she would embrace with all she had.

She walked to the water, waded until the waves hit her thighs, and then slid onto the board, paddling with power, feeling more confident than she had in weeks. She pulled up beside Zane, who sat reading the horizon. He looked over and did a double take. “Lana?”

She cocked her head, her joy at being out on the water making her giddy. “Now would you like to see how to really ride a wave?”

*   *   *

The island watched the one called Carmen with concern. It had taken an unacceptable amount of the island's remaining strength to alter the path of Carmen's blade. Responding to a calculated dose of pressure, the knife had sailed wide, barely missing the one called Lana's back. Intent on the water, the one called Lana had not seen it, had not felt it; she had no inkling that her fate had nearly been altered by a hate-driven hand.

The one called Lana had walked on, unharmed.

The one called Carmen had shaken with fury.

The blade's error had stoked her anger, an unfortunate effect of the island's interference, but the one called Lana's choice to engage with others had already been seen, and she had a role to play. Her death was not written yet.

But alteration of the knife's trajectory had cost the island in many ways; it had sapped its reserves beyond acceptable levels. The island had no strength left to guide today's noon. So when a frightening beast with blood dripping from its jaws arrived through the gate and ambled toward the human City, the island simply watched. And hoped that the humans still had strength to run.

Days passed.

Time passed.

The island was accustomed to the passage of time; time gave and time took, because time always was. But now, time bled like an island wound. The one called Skye felt the loss as keenly as the island.

The island shared her agitation, and her mounting frustration. The one called Thad had given her the clues, yet she did not see. The monumental blindness of this species baffled the island; it hindered their ability to learn and grow and transform. Even once Sight was bestowed, understanding did not necessarily follow, as if the blindness continued by choice, a completely illogical course of action. But the island believed that if given the opportunity, she would understand; she would not turn a blind eye to the present, or the future.

But first, she must open her eyes. If she could not open them on her own, the island would assist her.

Time would wait for no one, and the island could no longer wait for her.

She must look,
now
.

 

CHAPTER

49

SKYE

42 DAYS UNTIL THE AUTUMNAL EQUINOX, MORNING

Skye.
The girl who wasn't really a girl at all crooned in my ear
. Look for what you don't see.

I'm trying
, I wanted to snap. I was trying so hard I thought I might combust internally from the pressure building inside myself. I had no idea what befell the people lying still in the Dead City, and no clue how to save my friends and end Nil's deadly cycle. Frustration didn't cover how I felt right this minute.

At the water's edge, froth wrapped my ankles and tickled my toes, begging me to play; the sun kissed my shoulders, warm and soothing, an invitation to relax. But deep inside me, something shifted, something untouched by what was happening around me.

Look.

As if I looked through the eyes of a stranger, I took in the entire scene before my eyes. One click of a frame, then two.

Rives and Thad carried their boards up the beach, laughing and smiling over a joke I couldn't hear; closer to me, Lana squeezed water from her hair, her eyes closed, her expression content. To my right, Hafthor stood near Kenji, inspecting Kenji's last bokken creation with approval; Chuck sat alone, rocking slightly as he played with fire. On my left, Davey strolled along the beach, away from me, cane pole in hand. Molly was talking to Calvin; Amara was talking to no one. Carmen stared at the sun. Paulo stared at her.

Everyone moved slowly, unhurried, playing into the island feel. It could have been any day, any beach, anywhere.

But we weren't on just any beach, just any island—we were on Nil, and the entire scene was a mirage.

Something inside me snapped.

We had no time to waste, no time to play. We had six weeks left to figure this whole end-the-island thing out. I seethed with frustration; it welled inside me, building without end. I wanted to scream, to run around and shake everyone and yell,
Wake up! Wake
up
!

“Skye?”

“What?” I spun around and came face to face with Zane. His eyes widened, his grip on his surfboard tightened.

“Hey, sorry. I was just thinking.”

“It looked like you were surfing.” My words practically cut my own tongue with their edge. Part of me felt terrible for being so rude to Zane, but my frustration bubbled over. “Sorry for snapping,” I snapped again. Then I gave up. “What?”

He shook his head. “Listen, when we went to Quadrant Two on our magical mystery hunt, you said we were missing something, remember?”

“I remember.”
It's all I think about.

“I know what we're missing. Gates. Specifically, outbounds. When you went on your trip to the Dead City, did you see any?”

I thought back. Had I seen any on our trips to the ruins? I hadn't, but then again I hadn't been looking for one, either.

Davey's words echoed through my head.
You weren't looking for it, and you were specifically looking for something else. So you didn't see it.

“No,” I admitted, my tone slightly less acidic. “But I wasn't looking for any, either.” I'd already decided the wild ones weren't for me.

He nodded. “Well, I've been looking, and I haven't seen one. So.” He paused, his expression incredibly serious for Zane. “If Nil's not sending us gates, then we're all waiting for the golden equinox ticket, right? What if it's a no-show, Skye? What if the island's losing the ability to bring gates? Or, what if it's waiting to take us down as a group, like the Dead City? I'm starting to think you might be onto something.” Zane glanced at Mount Nil. “Hafthor says he feels tremors constantly, like the ground is restless. Says they're worse by the mountain, but he feels them here, too.”

“Really?”
Were there more steam vents than before?
I wondered.
Was magma building, like fire within, and here we were, trapped like the poor souls in Pompeii?
I studied the mountain. From here, the mountaintop hid in the clouds; the west slope gleamed bright green in the sun. A wash of red flashed near the clouds, then vanished. I squinted, blinking. My eyes were playing tricks. “I haven't felt any tremors,” I said, as if my declaration might make it true.

Zane waved off my words. “The point is, what if the volcano erupts or a quake happens and the island takes us all at once?”

“I don't know. But I don't think we can worry about the what-ifs. I think we have to worry about the now.” I wasn't sure if I was talking to Zane, or myself, or both. “And right now, we need to figure out what we're missing other than gates.”

On the beach, Lana was gone. Davey was nearly out of sight. Rives now walked toward me, eating a mango; Thad talked with Paulo. The water had nearly reached the high-tide mark, but not quite. Part of my brain processed the slight shift in people and places, taking note out of habit; the rest of my mind screamed,
None of it matters because you can see it
.

Wild splashing caught my attention. Dominic surfaced, breathing hard. He raised his empty spear and grinned.

“That was a big one, Skye. Too big for me.”

“A fish too big for you, Aquaman?” Zane grinned. “I don't believe it.”

Dominic laughed. “I telling you, mon, that fish was
huge
. Twenty feet at least, maybe more, the kind of fish that might eat me. The minute it popped out of the water light, I was gone. No need to wait for it to wake up.”

“Water light?” I frowned.

He nodded. “I see many here, in the water.” Seeing my blank expression, he continued. “The light holes. You know the ones, under the water, where the light appears and glows, and the sharks and the fish, they disappear into the light. I see many here. Sometimes, I see the light turn dark and spit out fish.” He grinned. “Yesterday I saw it deliver a stingray. Today, a tiger shark. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?”

“Amen, brother.” Zane nodded.

Dominic's casual revelation sunk in. “Gates in the water exist,” I said slowly. “You've seen them. And they bring cold-blooded things. And you're mostly seeing outbounds, the opposite of the land gates.”
Because they're linked
, I thought. I'd suspected underwater gates existed; now I knew.
The yin and the yang. The balance of it all.