Nil Unlocked (34 page)

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.

Thanks, Rives
, she’d said.
I’m sure honored. But I’m good right here.

I’d never had someone say no to Search. Ready to roll, I didn’t ask anyone else. Then we’d taken off, a silent trio, heading out into a quiet island.

No rookie sightings, no sign of raiders. No sign of Michael and crew or Maaka.

No predators. Few animals, all harmless. Two inbounds, but no riders. No outbound gates at all until the final days.

I felt like we were chasing ghosts.

Since Pari’s escape, I’d set a straight course back toward the City. Sweaty, filthy, and despite a dip in the sea, I still felt death on my hands. At the last minute, I’d veered toward the Cove, knowing fresh water was what I needed.

You need Skye
, the falls whispered.

I submerged myself in the icy water, grateful that someone had left sandsoap by the Cove’s edge. I scrubbed my hands until they burned, then I swam under the falls to chill. I needed some mental space in a quiet place.

On the ledge, I breathed. My eyes drifted toward the carving. Beside the diamond, next to the vertical arrow, the letters
N-I-L
ran vertically, freshly etched into the rock.

Been busy, haven’t you, Maaka
, I thought. Heat flooded my veins. While I’d been cremating a friend and hiking all over the damn island hoping for gate lightning to strike for Raj, Maaka had been hosting an island art class for one. Carving Nil rock without a care in the world.

Without a care on this island.

Damn you
, I thought.

Through the falls, bits of blue sky broke through until soon it was all I could see. The peace I needed wasn’t here.

I left the falls without looking back. The Cove itself was still empty. Eerily silent. I had the freak fear that I was coming back to a ghost town, on a ghost island.

Maybe
I
was a ghost.

Get out of my head, Nil.

Nil was not a great place to chill alone. Maybe because it wasn’t a great place to chill, period.

The final meters to the City were unsettlingly quiet. I lengthened my stride, breathing shallowly. Dex’s distant voice finally broke the silence, but it was the flash of wild blond hair through the trees that made me relax.

By the Shack, Dex was helping Skye pack up a glider. Jason already had his slung across his back. Serious faces, intense moment. No one speaking.

“Going airborne?” I called.

Skye looked up. Relief poured across her face like sweet rain. The glider slid from her hands. “Rives,” she breathed.

Dex’s head snapped up. “About bloody time.”

“Man, you had us worried.” Jason slid off his glider pack, his shoulders sagging with a relief as great as Skye’s. “We were about to sweep for you.”

Skye strode forward, meeting me halfway, and threw her arms around me. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said.

I rested my cheek against her head as I crushed her to my chest. “Me too.”