by Lynne Matson
Paulo’s eyes narrowed.
Abruptly I sensed I’d gone too far again.
“Not secrecy, pride,” Paulo spat. “Haole pride and power. That is what’s gotten everyone into trouble.” But his inflection on everyone matched his inflection on the word haole, like the word tasted bitter. “Go.”
Paulo said nothing as I left.
Paulo’s words ran through my head. The prince left his mark on the gate. The wild portals … steal life force.
A fully formed theory poured into my head like rain. A fully formed future, glittering and seductive and glorious as a shimmery outbound gate.
I broke into a run, heading for the beach, desperate to find Rives.
He stood near the water holding a board. Ahmad stood a few feet away. Kiera and Macy strolled just past Ahmad.
“Rives!” I flagged him over, slowing, willing him to come to me. I didn’t want more of an audience than Rives. He dropped his board and walked over, dripping wet, reminding me of that first day we’d met. Fully present, and intense.
“Paulo’s up,” I said when he drew close. “And listen to this.” I recounted Paulo’s story carefully, taking time to repeat it exactly as Paulo told me. Rives listened intently as he always did. When I finished, I said, “I have a thought. It’s really out there, so let me get to the end before you say anything, okay?”
Rives nodded.
I took a deep breath. “First, let me ask you something. Do you know how people die here? I mean,” I said quickly, inwardly wincing at the indirect reference to Talla, “if their time runs out? If they don’t escape before one year?”
Rives crossed his arms, a sign I’d learned meant he was thinking. Hard.
“I’ve never been with someone on their last day,” he said finally. “Most people usually go renegade as their clocks run out. Go off on their own, to have privacy or peace or whatever they want or need in their final days. But Natalie—she was Leader before Thad—told me once that people just die. Literally, they just stop living. That when the window between Nil and home shuts, something breaks. It’s like something’s cut.” He took a heavy breath. “She was with Uta on Uta’s last day. Problem was, Uta had miscounted. That afternoon, Uta collapsed while they were on Search. Just stopped breathing.” Rives glanced toward the Flower Field. “Natalie told me that Uta had landed on Nil in the afternoon too. It was like Nil calculated Uta’s time down to the minute.” Rives paused. “Why?”
“My uncle’s journal said the same thing. That Toby collapsed, out on the red rocks. He also said Toby grabbed his chest as he fell, but by the time my uncle reached him, Toby wasn’t breathing. My uncle wrote that it happened without warning, without noise. He wrote that it was like an invisible hand had pulled an invisible string, stopping Toby’s heart.” My voice was quiet. “I think Nil holds that string, but that somehow, we’re connected to the island. Keep this in mind, okay?”
“Okay.” Rives’s intense expression hadn’t changed. Like he just might buy into my crazy idea, too.
I took a deep breath. “Back to Paulo’s story. Do you remember what you told me about Nil truth number four?”
“Balance reigns,” Rives said.
“Exactly. So the prince’s gate imprinted on him, or linked with him in some way—and maybe the cat, too—so that the gate only recognizes teenagers and warm-blooded creatures, right?”
“Right.” Rives frowned slightly, not following.
“But the ocean. It only has cold-blooded creatures here, right? No dolphins, no marine mammals.” Rives was nodding. “So I’m thinking there’s a second gate—a companion gate, a gate underwater on both ends that only transfers cold-blooded things. That imprinted on cold-blooded things, like fish. It’s the balance to our gate, the counterweight.” I paused. “Make sense?”
“A yin and yang,” Rives murmured.
“Right. Just like we—all of us—are the counterweight to the island. I don’t know if I’m right, but it makes sense. And I keep thinking, what if a counterweight disappears? Gets upset? What happens to the island?”
Rives’s eyes widened.
“I think the gates are connected to the sun somehow, but the island is connected to us. Paulo mentioned a life force, like the island steals ours. I think that when people die, that somehow the island absorbs our energy, the same energy—like electricity—that powers our hearts.” I shivered. “I can’t stop thinking that maybe it uses our energy, like a symbiotic relationship. Maybe it’s the teens that give this place life. So I’m thinking, what happens if we get all the people off the island at once? The balance will tip too far, right? And Nil’s power will be dramatically lost. Maybe fatally lost.” I held Rives’s eyes, trying not to look as crazy as I felt.
“Maybe we can save everyone at once, and destroy Nil, too.” I paused. “Forever.”
CHAPTER
45
RIVES
DAY 291, MORNING
Skye was more than fire, more than ice.
Skye was an atomic weapon.
“Damn,” I said, fighting to process the killer thought of taking Nil down. “You don’t do anything halfway, do you?”
She waved it off. “It’s totally crazy. But we can try. So the way I see it, we’ve got to do three things. One, figure out when and where the next stationary gate will show up. Two, sweep the island for all the kids ahead of time to make sure no one is left behind, right? Number one will save us all, and number two will hopefully crush Nil.” She chewed her lip as she looked at the sea.
“What’s number three?”
“I’m not sure yet. But good things always come in threes, right? And I don’t want to miss anything.” She grinned.
“You won’t,” I said quietly.
“Skye!” Jillian’s voice rang out across the sand. “Paulo’s up, and he’s asking for you. He won’t talk to anyone else.”
“Crap,” she said. “I totally forgot I told him I’d bring him some food.” She looked at me, her face bright with hope. “Think on number three, okay? Be back in a bit.”
I watched her run up the sand, blown away by her ambition.
Could we do it?
Full Nil destruction was a possibility I’d never considered. I’d only thought of escape.
Waves crashed onto the shore without break. It was like the ocean was hell-bent on fighting Nil ground, day after day. Holding even, keeping the land in check.
A counterweight, Skye had said.
The sea never won. It always withdrew.
A spike of icy fear followed the thought. If we could destroy Nil, what was the cost? Because everything good on Nil came at a price.
One lives, one dies.
So Nil logic begged the question: If we killed Nil, would we survive?
CHAPTER
46
SKYE
DAY 16, DAWN
A hand brushed my cheek, startling me awake.
Rives.
“Hey,” he said. “Sorry to wake you. But I wanted to say good-bye.”
“Good-bye?” I blinked, struggling to focus. “Wait—where are you going?”
“Raj is leaving on Search again today. He asked me to go with him. I couldn’t say no. Pari’s coming, too. I think he wants to make sure Pari has company on the return trip.” His eyes darkened. “Raj has just under three weeks left. So,” he sighed, “I’ll be back in three weeks.”
Three weeks.
Three weeks without Rives. Three weeks to wait to find the stationary gate.
My resolve hardened.
If Rives could go on Search, so could I.
Like he’d read my mind, Rives gently tugged on one curl of my hair, giving me his full—and intense—attention.
“Promise me you won’t go off searching for that gate alone, Skye. Or at all.” His eyes held mine. The intensity of his gaze made me shiver. “Not because I don’t think you’re a badass fully capable of self-preservation, but Nil can take even the strongest.”
Are you worried about me?
I thought, searching his eyes, hoping for a hint of yes. Or are you thinking of Talla?
Rives’s eyes never left mine. “I need you here, with Paulo. He trusts you most.”
I need you here with Paulo. Not I need you.
I was a fool.
“Promise me, Skye.” Rives’s tone was as intense as his gaze.
“I promise.” My tone was reluctant. Rives was right, at least about Paulo needing a shadow. And I was the only one he’d talk to. I was boxed into the job; I may as well embrace it. “Really. I promise,” I said, this time with feeling.
Relief flooded Rives’s eyes. “Be safe, Skye. See you in three weeks.”
And then he vanished into the Nil dark.
Three weeks. Rives only had seventy-three days left. And by the time he got back, he’d be down to fifty-two.
Nil’s clock ticked louder than ever.
Paulo’s voice cut through the dark. “What does that mean, go on Search?”
I hadn’t realized Paulo was awake. I wondered how much he heard, and how he interpreted Rives’s words.
“It means they’re off Searching for wild gates. Raj only has a few weeks left before his year is up.”
Paulo was silent.
“Do you know what happens to people still here at the one-year mark?” I asked.
“They become one with the island,” Paulo said.
“If by ‘become one with the island,’ you mean they die, then you’re right.” I looked out into the night where Rives had vanished. “They never see their families again, they never have a chance to grow up and grow old. And sometimes they don’t get a full year. Sometimes they become one with the island earlier.”
Let him think on that, I thought as I climbed out of bed.
Rives’s team was already gone.
*
As the days passed, Paulo and I fell into an easy pattern. I’d bring him breakfast, then we’d go for a walk down the beach, with Paulo sweating as he pushed his crutches through the sand. We didn’t talk about the gate, or his history. For once, I didn’t push. I guess with Rives gone and my stationary gate quest on hold, the pressure lifted temporarily. Then Paulo would spend the rest of the day sitting by the water until it was time to go to bed. He ate reluctantly, as if every bite placed him further in my debt.
Paulo also refused to go into the City, other than in his hut, and he refused to talk to anyone but me. Not that we talked much at all. We walked in silence, ate in silence, slept in silence.
Until today.
We’d walked to the Crystal Cavern and I’d showed him my favorite place to rest. A small branch off the main cavern, eight feet long at most, it stopped at a wall with a jagged slit for a window and, of all things, a ledge like a seat. We had enough light to see each other, enough darkness to hide our words. Sometimes the dark gives us boldness to say things we never would in the light.
Resting in shadowed glitter, Paulo asked about my family, and so I told him. About my mom, about my dad, and about my uncle.
In turn, he told me about his family. His mom, originally from the mainland, and his dad, descended from island royalty. He told me about his brother, Keahi, who defied his father and refused to come to the island, dishonoring his family.
“Even his noble choice of the healing arts didn’t help,” Paulo told me. “My dad was furious, because it’s tradition. The oldest child, especially the oldest in my father’s line.” Paulo sighed. “So unlucky me. I got tapped to come.”
The spare, I thought.
“Why didn’t you say no? Like Keahi?”
“You don’t know my dad.” Paulo’s tone was wry. “Plus, Keahi was always the smartest. The strongest. The chosen one of the family, you know? Everyone expected great things from him.” He paused. “I thought this might be my chance.”
Getting Paulo to join my destroy-the-island campaign might be harder than I thought. It made Keahi’s choice mild by comparison on the dishonor scale.
“My chance to be the brave one,” Paulo murmured, “to follow in my father’s footsteps.”
“It’s funny,” I said, remembering Rives’s conversation with the mysterious Maaka about Nil being a spiritual journey. “The tradition is you coming here to experience peace and to take a personal journey, right?” He didn’t say yes, but he didn’t say no, either. “It’s not a very peaceful island, Paulo. Not anymore.”
I paused.
“When I first met you, you told me you couldn’t leave, not yet. And I think that’s another reason why you ran from the gate, right? To leave too soon isn’t honorable either, I’m guessing. So how long do you have to wait?”
Paulo shrugged. “One season, or three. One is acceptable, but three is brave. My father stayed three.”
“Why not two?”
Paulo shook his head. “One or three. Those are the choices.”
One or three. Not two.
An island thread wove his words into numbers: 3-2-1-4.
Quarters. Seasons. Dividing lines.
Choices.
A clue was there, I just couldn’t see it. Yet.
“Choices.” I smiled. “See? You still have some.” And so will we.
Paulo’s smile looked like a grimace. “Not many.”
“More than you think.” My voice was quiet. “Always more than you think.”
For now I left it at that. I was doing a better job with restraint. And I sensed Paulo was done confiding for now.
“Ready to head back?” I asked.
He nodded. We walked back at Paulo’s pace, not speaking, only this time, the silence was almost comfortable. The fiery resentment oozing off Paulo had faded to a dull resignation.
I left him at his hut with a full gourd of water. “I’m glad you’re getting stronger,” I said. “Enjoy your peace.”
Then I went to look for Rives again. I didn’t know when he’d be back, but it would be exactly three weeks tomorrow. Part of me worried terribly that he wouldn’t come back at all, that Nil had flashed a gate and swept him off the island so we couldn’t go through with our crazy master plan. It had nearly happened already.
In the east, black smoke rose in the distance, wispy and curling, and then it was gone. A signal fire? I wondered. Something had happened, something bad. My Nil sixth sense had finally kicked in.
It’s just Michael and Sy, camping out, I told myself. It’s nothing at all.
By the Flower Field, Dex stared off toward the east, shielding his eyes from the sun with one hand.
“Did you see that, Skye?” He pointed across the island. “Black smoke.”
“I saw it. Looks like someone’s having a campfire,” I said.
“More like a bonfire,” Dex said. He looked troubled.
“Dex,” I said, drawing his eyes. “Rives is almost late. What do we do if he doesn’t come back tomorrow?”
“We pull out the gliders and go look for him.” Dex’s face was grim. “And we pray to every god and island deity we can think of that he’s safe.”
Reaching into my satchel, I fished out the black lava rock he’d tossed me in the field and squeezed it tight. Please keep Rives safe. And please let him still be here. I whispered the last selfish thought. I knew I could find the stationary gate alone, but the truth was, I didn’t want to.
And if I was honest with myself, I wanted Rives.
I was in more trouble than I thought.
CHAPTER
47
RIVES
DAY 315, MID-MORNING
I itched to see the City.
I’d spent three painful weeks on a brutal Search, haunting the eastern side of the island in Quadrants Four and One, the only zones Raj wanted to hit and the only places we’d seen gates. Oddly enough, the gate sets had flashed out of order, a disturbing fact that could mean something or nothing, but I didn’t know which. During Charley’s time, we’d split the island into four quadrants based on the labyrinth carvings, and since the Man in the Maze sat outside the bottom right, we’d set that as Quadrant
One. Then, thanks to Charley, we’d realized that gates flashed in a clockwise motion, like a hurricane, hitting each quadrant in sequence. But the second set of gates flashed in Quadrant Four after Quadrant One, like they were backtracking on purpose. Or like Charley’s storm theory was falling apart.
Maybe the second gate set was a rogue, a freak aberration.
Then I pushed it out of my head. It was over.
Done.
And all that mattered about yesterday’s surprise double was that Pari had caught the second gate of the set yesterday. It almost made up for cremating Raj the day before.
No, it didn’t, I thought, cursing Nil’s scales. Not even close.
Even though I knew it could happen, I wasn’t prepared for it, could barely handle it; I’d had enough Nil funerals for three lifetimes. Even worse, I’d seen Raj collapse. No warning, no sound. He just dropped, like someone had flipped the master switch and stopped his heart.
Then it was just me and a shaken and crying and highly pissed-off Pari.
We’d cremated Raj on the beach on the northeast tip at Pari’s request, letting the waves take his ashes. Pari had also drawn a symbol for me to carve into the Wall by Raj’s name, like she knew she’d be gone. How the hell did she sense she’d leave?
But she had. I saw it in her expression when the gate washed over her and she’d waved good-bye. Pure relief, no surprise.
The whole Search had been weird from day one.
I’d asked Brittney to go. Newcomers usually embraced a Search trip like a life preserver, to confirm for themselves that escape was an option, and Brittney had adapted to Nil in record time. But Brittney had said no.