Nightfall (20 page)

Marin heard Kana yelling, but by that point she already knew that something was coming for her—pushing, shoving, and grunting through the darkness. And it wasn't alone. She raced up the stairs, only dimly aware that she was scraping her body against the jagged stone walls. Down below, she could hear the sounds of deadly struggle. A fight was taking place—grunts, running, bodies slamming to the ground—and then a loud, distinct groan. No question—it was somebody's last breath.
Was it the woman?
Marin almost stopped, almost turned around, but her desire to flee was overpowering. She climbed until she collided with her brother.

She nearly fell back, but Kana grabbed her by the arms and pulled her toward him. “Marin! What's going on?”

“They're coming!” she said breathlessly. “GO!”

Marin pushed past him and kept racing up the stairs, Kana close behind. Moments later, they found Line, who'd heard enough to understand that they had to get out, and fast. Marin grabbed his hand, and the three of them dashed across the
room. Marin slipped and fell, but sprang back to her feet, and they all continued down the main staircase.

Marin slowed her pace just enough to avoid another fall. There was a steady rumble of thunder in the distance, as if a whole series of storms was passing over, one after the other.

By the time they made it to the ground floor, they were out of breath, but they dared not stop to rest. Instead, they climbed to the crumbling arrow slit and pushed through. They crossed the bridge of stones, and soon they were back on the exposed seabed. Only there did they pause to catch their breath. Clouds had parted, and the moon was the color of undyed muslin.

“Are they behind us?” she gasped.

Kana shook his head.

Line shouldered the sack that contained their possessions. It was distressingly light.
The candles.
The two they had brought along were in the citadel. Now, the sack held several half-rotten apples, a box of wooden matches, some rope, and a flint. That was it.

Thunder sounded in the distance, directly above the island. It was very regular, sounding at ten-second intervals. The storm seemed to be sitting on the island. But above them, the sky was clear.

“What did you see down there?” asked Line, still panting. He was bent over, his hands pushing against his knees for support.

“I—I didn't see anything,” said Marin. “But I heard them—a lot of them.”

“How many?” pressed Line. He moved closer to her, assessing for injuries.

Marin shook her head. “I don't know . . . but there was a woman down there, too.”

Kana looked back at the citadel. “A woman? What did she look like?”

“Don't know,” said Marin. “It was too dark. But she said we should take the path by the stone arch.”

Kana frowned. “You had a conversation with her?”

“Not really,” said Marin. “But she said at the end of that path there'd be a cave with a sea vessel.” Marin took in Kana and Line's expressions and then threw her hands up in the air. “I don't know what else to tell you—the point is, that's the same path you were talking about, isn't it, Line?”

Line visualized the map. “I think so—but why does it matter? I thought we agreed we're not going back into the woods.”

Kana ground his foot into the damp sand and then placed a hand gently on his friend's shoulder. “We don't have a choice.”

Line stared at Kana in disbelief.
“Why?”

Kana gestured up toward the Dwarf Oak Islands. “When I was up there—on top—I got a good look around,” he said. “There are far too many canyons for us to be able to make it across the seabed. It's dangerous.”

Line shook his head vehemently. “More dangerous than going back in the woods? You're not serious, are you?”

“Either way, we can't stay here,” said Marin, cutting off the argument. “We have to get away from the citadel.”

Line grimaced.
She's right. We can't just stand around.
“Okay,” said Line. “But we're not done talking about this.”

They walked quickly across a slippery mix of sand, pebbles, seaweed, and mud, then paused to get their bearings. Marin
pointed toward a shallow stream of freshwater that wound across the old seabed, toward the citadel—just as the voice described. The reflection of the rising moon on the water made it look like a serpent.

It was hard scrambling over rocks to the stream, and at times, they had to crawl. Eventually, after what felt like hours, they reached the cliffs. Here, the stream continued inland, along the floor of a tight gully that cut into the cliffs.

Marin pointed up the gully and no one argued. It had been several hours since they left the citadel, and there was no sign that they were being followed. Once the fear faded, all their strength seemed to drain with it. Line, in particular, looked haggard. His face was flushed, his forehead covered with sweat, and his eyes burning.

“It looks like you have a fever,” Marin said to Line. She laid the back of her hand on his neck and was shocked to feel how much heat was rising from his skin. Sometimes, particularly tenacious infections needed massive doses of lekar.
Is that what Line needs?
She glanced at Kana and saw the worry on his face.

For his part, Line was oblivious to their concern. He was focused only on each breath and each step.

“I'm fine,” he said. “Let's just find some shelter.”

They formed a line and Kana took the lead as they entered the gully. The path was the stream itself, and they had to walk in it, against the current. Within seconds, they were soaked to the knee. The rain had created dozens of small waterfalls that poured down on both sides and drenched the path they were walking along so that the stream underfoot became bigger and
stronger. They were engulfed by mist and the sound of cascading water. The path narrowed.

“Tell me more about the voice,” whispered Line as they splashed forward.

Marin described her encounter in the basement of the citadel with as much detail as she could remember. When she was finished, Line shook his head. “That's strange,” he said as he continued to splash upstream.

“What's strange?”

“Just that, when I was down in the pit, I thought I saw someone. I was kind of out of it, but I could have sworn it was a woman.”

Kana's mouth opened slightly, revealing his surprise.
So all three of us have met her. I'm not crazy. She's real.

“This woman,” said Kana. “Tell me again what she said about the boat.”

Marin brushed droplets of frigid water from her face. “That it was in a cave,” she said with a sigh. “And she didn't call it a boat—she called it a
sea vessel
. If it's a sea vessel, it could cross open water. That's better than what we'd find at the fishing depot. Right?”

“I've been on the Coil dozens of times,” said Line. He slowed his pace to look at Marin, whom he could barely see through the darkness. “I've
never
seen any caves.”

“But you have seen the hut with the fishing boat,” replied Marin. She grabbed his hand, clasping his cold, clammy fingers. “And if she's wrong, we can still find it. The path will take us to the Coil—so we have both options. Right?”

“I guess,” replied Line. Then he stumbled again and, this time, fell to his knees.

Marin and Kana helped him up. Line's skin was clammy now, and his teeth chattered. Marin turned to Kana. “We've got to rest soon,” she said. “He's getting worse.”

The gully widened enough for them to avoid walking through the ice-cold stream. Thanks to their knee-high boots, their feet were relatively dry, but that wasn't enough to keep out the cold. The ground ahead was filled with pebbles and sand, and their walking became easier. After several minutes, the gully curved and they came upon a low-slung overhang of rock, which formed a shallow cave.

They crawled underneath the overhang and collapsed onto a floor of sand, which was remarkably dry. Marin sidled up to Line and placed her hand on his forehead. “You're burning up,” she said. “How do you feel?”

Line groaned and closed his eyes.

“Kana, I can't see a thing,” said Marin. “I need you to look at Line's arm.”

Kana maneuvered closer to Line. “I can see enough.”

“And?”

“It doesn't look good,” said Kana. He exhaled heavily.

“How bad?”

“The arm is totally swollen, it's covered with blisters, and there's a lot of yellow pus,” said Kana.

Marin was acutely aware of the sinking feeling in her stomach. “Do you think it's gangrene?”
If Line is that sick, how can we possibly get off the island?

“I don't know,” said Kana. “But we need to use all the lekar we have left. He should eat some, too. It'll help.” Very gingerly, Kana slathered the ointment on Line's wound. Line winced. “Sit up,” said Kana softly. “You've got to eat some.” After some coaxing, Line sat up and swallowed the last of the lekar—about a teaspoonful.

Line lay back down, then raised his head. “Both of you should know,” he said weakly. “If it comes time, I'll use the knife myself.”

It took Marin a few seconds to register what he meant. Then she sucked in a sharp breath. “You'll be fine. Eating the lekar is going to help.”

“Just saying . . . I'll do it myself,” Line repeated. He closed his eyes. Marin and Kana watched his face soften as he fell asleep.

Marin rubbed her tired eyes. It was too much to comprehend. She turned to Kana. “How long will it take to work?”

“It should work right away, now that he's eaten it,” said Kana. “But I scraped the container clean. There's nothing left.”

“Will he need more?”

Kana looked away from his sister. He didn't want to give her false assurances, but he didn't want her panicking, either. “I don't know,” he said finally. “Every person reacts differently. It healed my wound quickly—that's why I had so much left.” He
touched the scar on his face. There was just enough light for Marin to see him doing it.

“Can we find more?” asked Marin. Her voice sounded very far away.

“Doubtful,” said Kana. “Line and I looked all the time, and we hardly found any. Let's just let him sleep for a few hours. That might be enough.”

Marin shivered. It was very cold. Her mind felt slow and numb. She tried to settle in, but she couldn't seem to get comfortable. Eventually, she crept over to her brother's side.

“I can't even see you,” she said, drawing closer.

“Careful,” said Kana suddenly, jerking his leg away from his sister.

“Ow!” cried Marin. “Something just scraped me.”

Kana froze. “Are you all right?” he asked, trying to keep his tone concerned but not alarmed. “What was it?”

“I don't know,” she said. “But it's gone now.” Marin leaned back against the wall of the cave and focused on her breathing.

“Are you sure you're fine?” Kana asked. He could hear her fidgeting in the darkness.

“I'm okay,” said Marin.

Judging by his breathing, Line was in a deep sleep. Kana was genuinely worried for him. The jealousy he'd felt seemed so stupid now. So trivial. Line was very sick.

“Kana?” said Marin.

“Yes?”

“You know, Kana—I didn't want to leave this island,” she said. “And now . . . now I'd give anything to be on the boats.”
She paused. “Until I was in the citadel—in that stairwell, in the total darkness—I didn't really get how hard it was for you, not being able to see.”

Kana dug his hands into the dry, cool sand. It felt soothing. “How could you?”

She lifted her head from the wall. “Were you dreading going to the desert?”

“A bit,” he admitted.

“Because you'd be blind again? It won't be as bad as Bliss's years of noontime sun.”

“I know,” said Kana. “But I guess it wasn't just about being blind. There's something about this island . . . It just feels right. And I can't imagine the Desert Lands feeling that way.”

Marin thought about this. “I get it,” she replied. For a moment, she recalled climbing the cliffs with Line, when they discovered the hag. It felt like ages ago. “Really, I do get it.”

No you don't,
thought Kana.
And when do I tell you?
Kana stared at his feet. He could feel the pressure of his talons against the inside of his boots. It was growing more painful. Perhaps, if the forest was dark enough, he'd be able to take the boots off without anyone noticing.

“I can't get comfortable,” said Marin. She was still fidgeting, wrapping her oilskin tightly around herself and then loosening it again. “My heart is just racing . . .”

“Marin?”

“Yes?”

“Do you remember when we were little—Dad would make me feed those sheep in the back pasture?”

“Yes,” said Marin. She hadn't thought about it in a long time.

“I hated feeding those sheep,” said Kana. “It was before I got my glasses, and I used to beg Father to—”

“Let me go with you,” finished Marin.

“That's right,” said Kana. “But he made me go by myself—to toughen me up, I guess.” He paused before continuing. “It was awful. I couldn't see anything and I was terrified of getting turned around and wandering into the woods by accident. I remember I hid under your bed once, and you found me. Remember that?”

“I do,” Marin replied softly.

“Do you remember what you told me?”

“Of course,” she said, recalling his trembling shoulders and the way he'd gripped her hand so tight.

“Marin, it's just like that now, only I'm the one who can see.
I'll
be the lookout—for you and for Line.”

Just then, Line groaned and shifted in his sleep.

Kana cursed under his breath.
It's inevitable. Line will need more lekar.

“Marin, do you still have the knife—the one from the mayor's house?”

Marin sat up straight so fast that she nicked her head on a rock that jutted out from the cave wall. “Yes. Kana—you're not going to . . .”

“No,” said Kana. “At least, not yet. Let him sleep.”