Nil on Fire (38 page)

“We have to stop it.” Paulo's voice was resolute.

Skye nodded again.

“But how?”

“The key was in the Dead City.” She cocked her head toward the woods, as if listening, then she looked directly at me. “We have to blow up the island.”

 

CHAPTER

60

NIL

MORNING

The one called Rives understood the island like no other.

He understood that the island was truly one with two faces, with dueling agendas fighting for supremacy. Without his mate voicing the words, deep within himself he already knew the end was written, and he knew the end.

He simply refused to see it.

Perhaps it was a human trait, or perhaps the flaw was personal to the one called Rives.

Perhaps he thought he could change it.

Perhaps he understood he couldn't. Either way, his mind was closed, an unfortunate development. If the one called Rives refused to see, perhaps the one called Lana could benefit from Skye's Sight, or at least learn from it.

The one called Lana certainly knew how to listen.

*   *   *

Lana eavesdropped from behind a cluster of trees. She pressed her homemade amplifier, crafted from a large taro leaf, to her ear.

She had beaten the group to the cliff housing the Pool of Sight, but had waited to enter; Lana hadn't really believed that Skye would find it. She hadn't believed the island would actually call Skye to the Pool, a girl so opinionated and intrusive, and she'd been shocked when the island had gifted Skye with Sight. More shocking still was the fact that Skye had
touched
the Pool. Skye shouldn't have been
able
to touch the Pool; Lana's grandmother had claimed the Pool
couldn't
be touched.

Stretch your hand over the water
, her grandmother had advised,
palm down
.
The water will respond if it approves, and you will feel the Sight rise like liquid air, invisible and warm; it will flow over you, over your mind. You won't touch the water. Indeed, you can't; the water won't allow it, but don't worry, child, touch isn't necessary. If it deems you worthy, the Pool will impart the Sight, which is knowledge of the future. A true gift, given to a chosen few.

Not me
, she thought dismally.
Not now.

When Lana had entered the cavern, the Pool was gone. Only a dry cave bed remained. Looking at the depression littered with pebbles and chunks of rock, Lana would have wondered if the sacred Pool had ever really existed, but a clear image had coursed through her head: Skye, kneeling beside the Pool, her arm immersed to her elbow.

Skye
had
touched the Pool, just as she'd told the others. Lana knew it to be true; she'd seen it in her mind as clearly as if she'd been there. And Skye had ruined it, just as she knew Skye's friends had ruined the skylight. The cavern ceiling was destroyed, the floor riddled with rocks and chunks of earth.

Would the
haoles
ever cease their destructive ways?

And why had Skye's Sight run in reverse?

Lana wrenched her thoughts back to the group. Skye had paused, tilting her head toward Lana's hiding spot as if she knew Lana was there. A long moment passed, during which Lana was certain Skye would call her out.

But she didn't.

Skye resumed speaking to Rives, as if Lana's presence was unsurprising, or unimportant.

“We have to blow up the island,” Skye said calmly.

Lana's mouth fell open in shock. She strode out from the shrubs like a wild beast. “Will you ever stop destroying things?” she exclaimed. She waved her hand. “First the bombs, then the cavern. Now you want to blow up the entire island? What is
wrong
with your people?”

“Back to your people and ours, are we?” Rives's voice was cold.

Skye's expression didn't change.

“Lana.” Skye spoke with calm certainty. “The island seeks its own death. Did you not just hear what I shared with the group? That the light side is
dying
, Lana? But the dark side isn't?”

“I heard you,” Lana admitted. “But I'm not convinced.”

Skye regarded her carefully, then nodded. “I understand.” Skye turned to Rives. “Give me a second, okay?” She squeezed his arm, then looked away, but not before Lana caught the acute flash of pain in Skye's eyes, so startling that Lana nearly felt it herself.

What was that?
she wondered. Lana was so taken aback that she stood rock still as Skye approached; she actually forgot to move.

“Can I talk to you a minute?” Skye asked softly. “Alone? Maybe at your hiding spot?” Skye's knowing smile was wry.

“Sure.”

The two walked away from the group, which started muttering immediately, their words blending into a background noise competing with the ocean.

“Lana.” Skye rubbed her temples. “I know you don't care for non-islanders in general, and me specifically. I get it. But listen. I saw…” She paused for a moment. “Everything. I know about your aunt, Lina.”

Lana jerked in surprise. Skye kept speaking as if nothing had happened.

“I know she ignored the island's call, and that she never received the gift of Sight. I know she'd fallen in love with a boy from Turkey, and that she didn't want to leave him to go to the Pool of Sight, that it was a long journey from where she was, and I know she was scared. I'm not judging, Lana, I'm just telling you what I know. But I also know that if she'd received the gift of Sight, she would have known that the rockslide at the north shore was coming, and two people would've been saved, one being the boy she loved. And I know that she would've known better than to take the wild gate that she did. It opened on the other end, in the middle of a major highway. I know that if she'd received the gift of Sight, she would have survived.” Her voice was a whisper. “But she didn't.” Skye closed her eyes, her voice a remote whisper. “The island doesn't like to be ignored.”

She opened her eyes again. “And the other night, the island called you, but you didn't come in time. You waited to see what we would do. And now you don't have the gift.” Skye's tone turned frustrated. “You were supposed to help me. I would see the past; you would see the future. The island only had energy left to bequeath Sight once more, in one episode.” She sighed, then lifted her tired gaze to Lana.

“Weeks ago, I told you that you didn't have to do this alone. But now, I do. I have to convince everyone the past is real, and can't be repeated. Time is running out. If you heard me talk, you know I didn't just see your aunt's history, I saw
all
the history. Of the island, of every single person who ever came through a gate, and I felt the suffering. Like it was my own.” She swallowed. “And that's just a taste of the island's potential to inflict pain and sorrow. If it creeps into our world, its power will grow exponentially and the damage will be catastrophic. We can't let that happen. We have to end it.” Skye's tone had grown so calm, so detached, Lana had the strange urge to shake her. “Make no mistake, Lana, this world as we know it”—Skye waved a lethargic hand around—“will end at the equinox, one way or the other. This chapter of Nil is over. Either we end it, or it ends us, and not just us, but our world as we know it back home. It's a living threat, Lana, but we have the ability to stop it. Right now. So I choose the former. Blow up the island and leave as one.” Skye's firm gaze held Lana rooted to the ground. “All I ask is that if you won't join us, please don't stand against us.”

Lana said nothing, still processing all that Skye had said.

“The choice is yours.” Now the shadow of a smile crossed Skye's face. “I told Paulo that once.” Her gaze stilled completely on Lana, her voice fading like her smile. “Lana, you don't have to like me, or talk to me. But I know you can talk to Paulo, or Zane. Talk to someone, even yourself. Know there is power in whatever choice you make.”

Skye started to walk away.

“Skye.” Lana spoke quietly.

Skye turned back.

“Why you?” Lana asked.

“Why
not
me?” Skye raised her eyebrows, amused. “But for the record, it could have been you. I guess I just got lucky. Or perhaps the island saw something in us we didn't see in ourselves.” She shrugged. “I guess we'll find out.” Sadness swirled in her eyes, so profound and moving that Lana's own breath hitched in her chest. “I'm sorry about your aunt.” Skye's whisper rippled with pain. “You look like her, you know.”

Skye turned away again; Lana stood rooted to the leaf-strewn ground.

Make your own way
, her grandmother had told her.
Do not repeat the past.

Perhaps, Lana considered, as Skye walked away, perhaps she'd misunderstood her grandmother's words entirely.

As Lana watched, Skye took her seat with the group around the firepit. Everyone's voices died at once. Rives stared at her as if she might break; Thad looked pensive. The morning light crept through the trees, painting some faces with golden light, casting others in shadow. All eyes were trained on Skye, including Lana's.

It was as if the entire world were holding its breath.

Something was unfolding right before her eyes. A shift was taking place, right here, right now. Just as Lana knew that she was to stride through that solstice gate last June into the island unknown, Lana understood that this moment was pivotal—that she would either embrace the shift, or stand on the sidelines forever.

Lana
, whispered the breeze.
Choose.

Without hesitation, she walked forward and sat in the only space available: next to Zane.

*   *   *

Davey watched Lana the loner stroll back into camp and plop down next to Zane as if she'd never left. Zane's eyes widened and Davey didn't miss the slight lift of his shoulders. The girl messed with Zane in every which way.

Zane cocked his head at her. “Do I know you? Because you kinda look like this girl I knew; her name's Lana? Dark hair, surfs like a champ? Likes to bail without saying good-bye?”

Lana rolled her eyes.

“And she has a serious attitude.” Zane grinned.

“This is lovely,” Davey said, breaking into the Zane-Lana dynamic. “Truly touching. But can we get back to the blow-up-the-island plan? And by plan, I mean idea that sounds epically dangerous and not exactly possible. Unless I missed something, there aren't any explosives stashed in the Shack.”

“We were
all
missing something,” Skye said quietly. “Something invisible, something volatile. The island told me to
look inside
. Well, inside the island is an odorless gas. You can't see it, or smell it. It killed the animals by that cave, and it killed the people in the Dead City while they slept. I saw it happen.” She twitched reflexively.

“Makes sense,” Thad mused. “‘Look for what you don't see.'”

Paulo was nodding. Rives stayed silent, arms crossed, eyes locked on Skye. Davey guessed that more was going on behind Rives's green eyes than his blank expression revealed. He sat too still, like a coiled spring. Ever since Skye had been lifted out of that pit, Rives reminded Davey of a caged tiger, pacing and waiting and always on edge.

“We couldn't see any evidence of an attack; it was like they died by magic,” Skye continued in the same aloof tone. “But it wasn't magic. There was a vent, and gas seeped into the Dead City; eventually an earthquake readjusted the rocks and sealed it from within. The gas pocket runs along the mountain, underground. So if we ignite the gas, the volcano might erupt. At a minimum, the mountain and the platform will be destroyed. We need to light it the night of the equinox gate.”

“And you want to be the one who does it.” Rives's words cut the air like a hot blade. His face had gone white. “Skye, you'll
die
.”

Skye shook her head. “No. I think we can detonate it remotely, if we can just figure out a fuse. I don't think anyone needs to stay back to light it. That's the worst-case scenario.”

Rives didn't look convinced.

“Hashtag fuse. Hashtag flammable. Hashtag remote burn. Hashtag string,” Chuck mumbled to himself. He rocked slightly as he talked.

“This idea is way intense,” Zane said.

“Hashtag agreed,” Davey mumbled.

“Stop it,” Molly hissed in Davey's ear. He almost dropped another
hashtag
just to get Molly to lean close again, but he didn't. Chuck wasn't a bad guy, just quirky.

“I think we can do it.” Skye's cool tone radiated confidence.

“Really?” Rives asked. “How?”

“Fat lighter,” Chuck said abruptly. “We need fat lighter. Dry out twine, rub it with pine sap. Make a sticky fuse. Light one end and
boom
.” He made a large hand motion.

Davey's jaw dropped slightly. Chuck sounded certain, actually convincing.

“Where's the hashtag?” Davey whispered in Molly's ear. Molly poked him. He grabbed her hand. Sparks flew between them. His eyes caught hers, full of heat; Molly dropped his hand like she'd been burned.

No one was looking at them.

“Are there pine trees here?” Thad asked Chuck.

“Yes,” Skye and Chuck said together.

Skye nodded. “It sounds like exactly what we need. The only other thing—or person, rather—we need is someone who is fast. Because after they light it, they're going to have to run to the gate. Any volunteers?”

“I guess that's me,” Calvin said.

“You don't have to do it, big Cal,” Davey said quickly, his head still reeling from Molly. “We can draw straws.”