by Lynne Matson
Rives paused as heads nodded.
“Paulo, James, and Kenji will go northeast, sweeping the interior. Steer clear of the mudflats. Molly, Davey, and Dominic will go due north, sweeping the coast and northwest corner. Lana, Zane, Garrett, and Thad will go south, taking the coast and southeast corner. Skye, Hafthor, Calvin, and I will head straight to the mountain, covering the southwestern interior as we go. Everyone has a quadrant, don’t mess around. Just sweep for people. We don’t want to leave anyone behind.” His jaw muscles tensed. “Hafthor will carry the fuse. The rest of us will carry torches, extra twine, and food. Our goal is to meet up at the platform by noon in three days’ time. Our team will get there first, lay the fuse line, and start lining Calvin’s route with torches to help him see. I know he’ll have his own, but the more light the better. At midnight, we’ll all be in place, all torches lit. When the gate starts to rise, we all blow our whistles, and that will tell Calvin to light the fuse and run. He’ll have less than two hundred meters to cover in just over a minute, so he can make it to the gate in time, no problem.”
He looked at Calvin, who nodded.
“By the time the gate locks into place, Calvin should be a good third of the way to the platform. We’ll go through the gate one at a time. Skye has chosen to be last.” He didn’t look at me. Molly gave me a kind smile.
Rives cleared his throat. “All right, let’s pack and roll.”
Paulo came up as we were ready to set out. His dark eyes burned with emotion. “Skye, I don’t think you’re supposed to be last.” His soft tone was forceful. “I think it’s supposed to be me. To make up for my mistake last time.”
I hugged him. “Paulo, you’re sweet. But I know it’s supposed to be me.”
He shook his head. “I’ve heard the island, Skye. You were supposed to see, to guide us, to figure out the end. But you’re not supposed to die. You were supposed to solve the riddle, remember? I don’t think you did.”
Anger flared, giving my words bite.
“Yes, I did. This place is not safe. Look inside. Well, inside the island is gas. Deadly gas. So is lava, and we can connect them with fire. Riddle or no riddle, I know I’m supposed to be last.”
Paulo frowned. “It feels wrong. I need the chance, Skye.” He paused. “A second chance. Please.”
“It’s not about having a second chance, Paulo,” I said, frustrated. “It’s about making a final choice.”
“I know. And I’m willing to make that choice.”
“So am I.” I lifted my chin.
Paulo almost smiled. “You can argue with me in three days.” He took a step, then turned back, his eyes on mine. “It’s supposed to be me,” he said quietly. “Ask Molly.” With a sad smile, he walked away, his pace steady and, if I wasn’t mistaken, resigned.
Rives was watching us, arms crossed.
“What does that mean?” I asked, my eyes darting between him and Paulo. “Ask Molly?”
“Ask her yourself.” Rives pointed to Molly. She stood beside Davey, adjusting a glider pack on his back. It was the last functional glider. I hadn’t even realized Davey knew how to fly one.
“Molly!” I ran over, moving so quickly I surprised myself. “Paulo just told me that he’s supposed to be last. And he said to ask you. What’s changed? What have you seen?”
Molly looked torn. “Skye.” She spoke slowly, or maybe I’d just spoken ridiculously fast. “The thing is, my visions aren’t clear. The timing of them, how they all fit together. And they change. So I’m interpreting them, and who knows what I’m really seeing.”
“What do you see?” Rives’s voice came from behind me. “Why does Paulo think he should be last?”
“Because sometimes he is,” Molly replied. “And sometimes he isn’t. I don’t know.” She closed her eyes, as if willing all the images away. I knew exactly how she felt.
“It’s okay,” I said. I went to hug her, then stopped myself before I touched her; the visions she got from me were far worse than any others, and they got darker each time. “But if you see something you think I need to know, will you promise to tell me?”
She nodded.
I looked at Davey and Dominic. “Please take care of her, and take care of each other.”
“We will do that.” Dominic smiled. “And you.” His voice softened. “You take care of yourself, Skye. This place, do not give it the power. I will see you in three days.”
“Three days,” I promised.
I turned back to find Rives staring at me, a crushing desperation darkening his eyes before disappearing altogether.
“Will you please let Paulo win?” His expression was blank. “Let him go last?”
He crossed his arms, fists tight, intensity barely restrained, his entire bearing making it clear this was a final plea. Rives was asking for so much more; he was asking me to change my mind.
If he could read my thoughts, he’d hear the truth.
We can’t risk it.
Last time Paulo failed.
It has to be me.
“No,” I said sharply. Last time Paulo lost time; I couldn’t risk it happening again. I had no choice.
How could Rives not see that?
Rives turned away, but not before I caught the ache on his face or the pain dulling his eyes.
I sighed. It was going to be a long three days.
CHAPTER
71
RIVES
AUTUMNAL EQUINOX, ALMOST NOON
Skye walked slowly.
Like glacially slow. Like her feet had turned to lead, or maybe she was trying to drag out the trip; I honestly couldn’t figure out if her snail’s pace was intentional or not. Neither made sense.
After all, she was the one who’d chosen today to die.
“Skye,” I said for the twentieth time this morning, “we have to move faster. We’re not even in sight of the meadow yet.”
“I know. I’m trying.” Her voice sounded weak.
“I can carry you,” Hafthor volunteered.
Skye shook her head. “You’ve got the fuse. I’m fine.” For a few minutes, her pace picked up, then lagged again, her expression a spaced-out look. I didn’t know if Skye was losing time, but we sure as hell were.
We’d never make the platform by noon. Even midnight wasn’t a given, not at this rate.
“That’s it.” I handed my unlit torches to Hafthor and scooped her up. “We’re never going to make it to your farewell party if we don’t pick up the pace, which means I’m picking you up.” My breath came in spurts.
“Put me down,” she snapped.
“When we get there,” I replied. “But it’s nice to see a little spark is still left in there.”
She fumed, which made me feel better. And somehow, infinitely worse. Because this was my Skye, and she’d chosen death. Death by Nil, for Nil, and without me.
I saved my breath for walking. With me carrying her, we made better time. I blocked everything else out of my head except for the ground, the girl in my arms, and the now.
Step. Move left. Watch the hole. Watch ahead.
At least I had Hafthor and Calvin watching our backs.
Look around.
Pay attention.
The south lava field stretched before us, black and empty, save for one lone moose. He didn’t know it, but his clock was ticking too. At the field’s end, Mount Nil rose into wispy clouds, still farther away than I’d like. I wanted to already be there, setting the fuse, laying the line, arguing with Skye.
Changing her mind.
Deep down, I still believed she’d change her mind.
Liar, the breeze whispered. You know her. And you know you’ve lost her.
Out of my head, I snarled.
I forced myself to focus.
Look around.
Pay attention.
Blue sky stretched overhead, clear and stunning. Greenery dotted the horizon like life, like hope. It was an island paradise, a beautiful lie.
Skye, in my arms, was a dead g
irl walking in every way that mattered.
“Do you hear that?” Calvin asked, looking around. “A voice?”
I shook my head.
“Never mind. It’s nothing.” He rubbed his head with one hand. “Damn. This place creeps me out sometimes. I can’t wait to leave. I’m driving myself crazy.”
There were no people in sight, not now, not yesterday. No new people this trip at all, as expected. And disturbingly, as we closed in on the meadow, there was no sign of the other teams. Most should have beaten us, given our poor pace.
But the meadow wasn’t empty.
Near the far trees, a rhino stood guard. A zebra flicked its tail in the swath of new growth.
Where were the people?
I had the crazy thought that we’d missed the equinox gate—that I’d screwed up, miscalculated the date. That somehow Nil had stolen time—an entire day.
My sixth sense flared, full-blown worry erupting.
Had we missed the gate?
No, I reasoned, we couldn’t all have lost a full day. Maybe one person, but not four. Not even when yesterday’s detour to see about another of Calvin’s voices chewed up time, a wild goose chase around the lava rock until I’d had the sense to call it off.
No, we still had time.
Around us, the clear air felt heavy. Expectant. Like the island was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen. The stillness crept under my skin; it felt like the moment before a gate flashed, the quiet just before noon. But today no outbounds would flash, not until midnight.
Unless I was one day off.
“Put me down,” Skye said suddenly. “Now!”
I set her down, gently. Her soles touched rock as the first tremor hit. For a cold instant, the ground and air blurred, like a dimension had slipped, like the mother of all gates was ready to rise. All four of us dropped to our knees as one. Beneath us, the ground groaned and shifted. A massive crack opened four meters away, an angry split, spilling black rock below, a creepy rockslide crooning our names. We scrambled back, me grabbing Skye and swinging her away from another crack snaking toward her. Hafthor slipped, windmilling as he fought to stay upright; four unlit torches went flying. Calvin reached for them, stumbling and slipping, clawing at rock as he made a mad grab for the torches. He missed by millimeters; they dropped into a fresh crack out of sight. Gone.
Meters away, the meadow was chaos, a carbonated bottle shaken too long.
A pair of lions sprinted toward the mountain, shining brilliant gold in the sunlight; they streaked past the rhino at the far edge. A whistle blew in the distance, a clear SOS that cut off abruptly. Wolves howled. A honey badger darted out of the low grasses and slid into the crack; the zebra galloped diagonally toward us then cut away, frantic. An elephant sounded behind us, a trumpet of fear.
The quake stopped as abruptly as it had begun.
“Let’s move.” Hafthor hauled Calvin to his feet. Blood trickled down one of Calvin’s arms, mixing with sweat. “I think that tremor was the beginning of something.” Hafthor glanced at the mountain briefly before pointing to the ground. “And we do not want to be stuck on this side of that divide today if it grows.”
Ten meters away, a massive crack blocked access to the meadow in both directions for a good thirty meters, at least.
Moving parallel to the crack, we headed north, hunting for an access point, all four walking. My eyes went from Skye to the fresh crack in the rock, to our perimeter and then around again. Still no sign of any of the other teams. The crack narrowed enough to cross, putting us at the far end of the meadow.
We leaped across near the decimated rain forest, close enough to make out the individual leaves on new trees and old ones that somehow survived the fire. From here, the mountain platform was a good hour away. And we still had to lay the fuse line, get the torches lit, and get everyone in place.
The Nil clock ticked faster in my head.
I gestured to Hafthor for my satchel, needing my fire bow. “We need a lit torch to keep the big cats away.”
“We don’t have one,” Hafthor said. “We lost them all.”
“Seriously?”
Hafthor nodded. Of course he was serious.
“Rives, has the mountain always smoked like that?” Calvin asked, pointing.
Steam hissed into the air near the peak. More steam than usual, but nothing alarming, not yet anyway.
“Yes and no,” I said, studying the mountain. “It looks a little hot.”
Like Skye, I thought. Her skin still ran hot, like she was on fire. When I’d carried her, I’d begun to sweat from her body heat as much as my exertion.
Right now her skin had faded to a deathly pale, the moons beneath her eyes a dull Nil black.
I passed over my water gourd; there wasn’t much left. “Drink. You need it.”
Skye shook her head.
“Don’t be a martyr,” I said. One second late, I realized what I’d said and how I’d said it. “Take the water.” My voice was gruff. “Please.”
As she lifted the gourd, a knife struck it dead center, knocking it from her hand.
I swept her behind me with one arm as Carmen strode out from behind a swath of deadleaf bushes, her dark eyes flush with island insanity. “You can’t do this!” she cried, pointing accusingly at Skye. “You don’t understand the beauty of this place. The power, and the future. It’s as old as time, as life itself,” she crooned. “You can’t understand it, not like I do.” Her silken tone caressed each word, as if she spoke of a lover. Another knife appeared in her hand as Skye pressed into my back. “And you can’t kill it, Skye. Can’t hurt it. I won’t let you.”
“And I won’t let you hurt Skye.” My voice was hard.
Carmen’s eyes slid to me, narrowing in annoyance. “Move,” she commanded. She flicked her knife at me. “This is not your fight.”
“Wrong,” I said. “It’s not your fight.”
“Carmen.” Skye’s tone was inordinately calm and soft. “It’s you who doesn’t understand this place—its history, and its pain. It’s hurting, and hurting others.” Skye’s gentle voice hardened. “When midnight comes, I will do what must be done.”
Carmen’s mouth curved. “As must I.” She raised her weapon, then cried out as the knife flew out of her grasp. It skipped twice across the black rock before falling into the crack, swallowed by the darkness below. She spun around. James stood behind her.
“You fool! You don’t know what you’ve done!” Carmen yelled, swinging at James. He grabbed her fist and held it tight.
“I do,” he said calmly. “You will hurt no one here.” He looked at me. “Rope?”
“Calvin’s got some.”
A few minutes later, Carmen’s hands were bound with some of the extra twine.
“Where’s Paulo?” Skye asked.
“With Kenji. I saw Carmen and followed her. I knew three would make too much noise so I asked them to stay behind.”
A triple danger alert sounded, turning quickly into an SOS call. Make that two. One from past the meadow, by the sea; the other to the south, a chorus of trouble.
Look around, pay attention.
Barks and growls echoed in the distance, a Nil nightmare in play.
“James, do you have a torch?” I asked.
“One.”
“Okay, that’ll have to do. Light it now. Calvin, I want you to head down to lay the fuse. Go east, avoid the meadow if you can. You may have to tack north slightly and descend near the ruins to get to the coast. Be careful as you feed it into the cave, giving yourself plenty of distance, all right? If you have any problems, blow your whistle two times, both long. That way I’ll know it’s you. I’ll try to get back as fast as I can. James, you stay with Carmen. Head for the platform. Hafthor, you stay with Skye. You two follow Calvin, see what’s going on. Stay by the coast, take the first path so you can steer clear of the lions until you all have torches. But don’t leave Skye.” That last bit was a command. Hafthor nodded.
And
then, repeating the past, I ran. Toward the mountain, away from Skye, angling slightly south, following a constant SOS whistle, refusing to look back. My mind had leaped ahead, toward Thad and his crew. I ran in the direction his team should be.
No, I thought, they should already be at the mountain. The SOS punctuated what I already knew.
Thad’s team was in serious trouble.
CHAPTER
72
SKYE
AUTUMNAL EQUINOX, LATE AFTERNOON
Rives vaulted back over the crack where it narrowed, then ran alongside it, heading back south, the way we’d come, heading toward the SOS whistle that blew from that direction.
I didn’t ask Rives which whistle he’d follow. I knew he’d go help Thad.
Plus, we were heading toward the coast, toward the other whistle, so I didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to figure out the plan. Now I just needed to figure out how to function amid my crushing fatigue, keep up with Hafthor, and watch out for Carmen. She glared at me, venom in her eyes.
She actually tried to kill me, I thought incredulously.
And she’ll try again, a tiny voice said.
“It’s not you.” I addressed Carmen quietly, keeping a safe distance from her. “Your hate. It’s the island, feeding you.” Feeding off you, I thought.
She laughed, cold and cruel. “As if you know me. You don’t.”
“And you don’t know me. But I know the island, and what it does to people. And it’s turning you into someone your own family wouldn’t recognize.”
“How dare you speak of my family?” she hissed. “Shut your filthy little mouth.”
Fine, I thought. But I stopped talking, less for Carmen’s sake than for mine.
I’d never been so tired. All I wanted to do was lie down and sleep.
Soon … the breeze crooned.
We hadn’t gone far when James barked a gentle command. “Trouble on our left. Listen carefully or we’ll all die.”