Nil on Fire (8 page)

“I won't let the island hurt you. But I'm scared, Skye. Of this darkness, this long-range Nil. Nil shouldn't be able to mess with us here, or want to. I don't know how to protect you from the invisible.”

“I don't think you have to.” Her cheeks flushed with hope. “I think I figured out what Nil wants.”

 

CHAPTER

18

NIL

AFTER NOON

The one called Skye had heard
.

Seen.

Perhaps even understood.

Hope flared within the island, rich and pure, a full-bodied human emotion the island recognized for what it was, an abrupt surge flowing from her and back again, powerful enough to summon a gate on that side of the seam. A gate that would seek another like her, if balance held true. But lately, the innate balance was off, the island's own essence precarious. So when the first gate deviated from course, taking another, the island accepted the shift without surprise. However, if the second gate's appearance was equally unexpected, so were the humans who arrived.

This pair was perplexing, not unlike the species as a whole.

One loathed the other and still, she had attempted to warn him of the gate. She was the stronger of the two, her own strength calling the second gate, calling her. He thought her charming, and charmed by him. His confidence was misplaced, as was his footing.

They were highly entertaining to watch.

*   *   *

“Bloody hell,” Davey grumbled. He'd just slipped on a loose rock. The cracked ground required a keen eye, which wasn't easy given that Molly Hargrave walked next to him completely naked, even though they'd made a pact in the first two minutes not to look at each other.

He'd broken the pact a minute later. Who wouldn't? Molly Hargrave. Naked. A man had only so much willpower.

But apparently Molly had enough for both of them. She hadn't peeked, not once. At least Davey knew he looked good. In fact, Emma had told him that last night. Wondering what Molly thought, he slipped again.

“Crap it all!” Davey groaned. This time his foot had lodged in a tight spot, making him stop walking altogether.

“Do you mind?” Molly said, exasperated. Her face was tilted away, her sun-kissed auburn hair spilling down to cover her chest. The blue streak on the left side gleamed brighter in the sun. “Look where you're going. Get your foot free and come
on
.”

“How do you know my foot's stuck?” Davey asked innocently. “Were you looking?”

She scowled, then blushed, enough red shooting across her cheeks that her freckles faded, which he knew because he
was
looking.

“No,” she retorted, a little too quickly. “But the sooner we get to the trees, the sooner we find help. And clothes.”

It was the most she'd said since they'd arrived.

By Davey's count, they had been trudging across rock as black as coal for half an hour. He still couldn't figure out what had happened. One minute he'd been ditching lunch to surf or possibly get high—or both; the next minute Molly was screaming at him to look out.

Look out for what?
he'd wondered.

And then he'd passed out. He'd woken up to find Molly Hargrave staring at him—and his bathers were gone. So were hers. They were naked as babes and just as shocked.

He hadn't decided yet whether it was a dream come true or a full-blown nightmare.

“You're an arse,” Molly said suddenly.

Nightmare
, Davey decided.

“I didn't steal your clothes,” he said matter-of-factly. “Or you, for that matter.” He winked, making her scowl deepen.

“I know,” she replied, making sure her hands covered her lower parts. “I'm talking about last night. I know you hooked up with Emma. I'm telling Lauren.” Lauren was Molly's best friend, and also Davey's sort-of girlfriend.

Was
, Davey thought.

And Molly had no idea what she'd seen.

“What will you tell her, exactly? And when?” Davey asked, his tone curiously cheerful. “And how? Because right now Lauren's not here, and I haven't a clue where
here
is.”
Or what the bloody hell we're doing here together
, he thought. But he didn't say it.

He jerked his foot free and winced.

“You're bleeding.” Molly's voice was quiet.

“You are nothing if not observant,” Davey said. A gash ran lengthwise down his ankle. Bright red blood dripped off his foot, disappearing greedily into the black rock.

“Arse,” she muttered.

He kept walking, keeping his eyes on the ground. “Molly, what were you yelling at me to watch out for? What did you see?” His voice was quiet.

“It doesn't matter now.”

Wrong answer
, Davey thought.

“I think,” he said, “that it matters very much. I think you saw something important. Something that explains
this
.”

“Nothing explains this,” she said slowly. “I'd followed you outside because I wanted to talk to you before I went to Lauren, and you were texting. You weren't even looking. The air rippled—I know it sounds strange—but it rippled, and then it moved. And then it hit you. You vanished, and a few seconds later, the weird air flashed again and hit me. End of story.”

Wrong again
, Davey thought.
I think it's just beginning.

He forced a smile. “Well,
this
story is feeling a bit awkward, don't you think? You, me, here.” He waved his hand. “Naked.”

“Awkward doesn't cover it,” Molly said. “More like horrible. No offense, but if someone had asked me to pick company for this nightmare, I wouldn't have picked you.”

“You know, whenever someone says ‘no offense,' usually whatever follows is offensive,” Davey said affably. “But I wouldn't have picked you either.”

Liar
, the island whispered.

Davey stiffened.

“Did you hear that?” he asked.

“What?” Molly stopped, looking around.

Lips tight, Davey said nothing. He scanned the area, inspecting the silent landscape sprawling around them.

“I'm not sure,” he said finally. “But something tells me we're not alone.”

“You're right,” Molly said. “There's a kangaroo over there.”

Davey squinted in the direction Molly pointed. Sure enough, a big red boomer regarded them with curiosity. “So we're in the outback, are we?” he mused, marveling at the size of the kangaroo staring back at him. “A far cry from Sydney. How the bloody hell did that happen?” He stared at the animal, and his pulse skipped a beat. Past the kangaroo, a striped cat stood rock still, a massive beast, its head pointed toward Molly and Davey and, naturally, the kangaroo.

Davey desperately hoped the tiger was eyeing the kangaroo.

“I have no idea,” Molly said. “But maybe that guy knows.” She pointed to a slight rock rise where a thickly muscled boy stood. He wore a cream-colored loincloth that looked a bit small on the boy's large frame—privately Davey thought it looked slightly ridiculous, like he was playing dress-up in too-tight clothes—but the skull tattoo on his arm was a nice touch. On the other hand, the massive
A
tattoo on the boy's forearm made no sense at all. The boy held up some cloths, and Davey realized they were
clothes
.

And his rock was in the opposite direction from the tiger.

“By all means,” Davey said, already moving, “let's go say hello.”

*   *   *

A trio
, the island mused, watching the intriguing pair approach the one called Calvin. Three brought balance, and strength of its own making, a different sort of balance than a traditional pair.
A positive development,
the island decided.

Leaving them be, the island turned away.

Turned north, toward the one called Dominic, a different islander than the others. He had attracted the island through the water, but it could not take him then, nor would it have chosen to, not with the spear in his hand and bloodlust in his heart. But the next day he had attracted the island again, and in that quiet moment, the island had seen his true measure.

He would serve the island and others well.

For now, the one called Dominic stood alone, surveying the deep water, the white froth pooling around his feet. As he had done before, he stepped confidently into the sea and dove, with a full breath and no fear.

The island did not need him, yet.

But there was one the island needed
now
, the one who had opened her mind at last. Beyond the seam, the one called Skye had finally braved the darkness for the truth, and with the help of her mate, she'd seen.

The island's plea had been heard. A decision would follow. Until she chose, the island could do no more.

Withdrawing, it was the island's turn to listen, on both sides of the seam.

 

CHAPTER

19

SKYE

JUNE 10, NIGHT

“I know what Nil wants.” Rives's tone was sharp. “It wants you.”

“You're right and you're wrong,” I said. “Nil
does
want me, and it doesn't. I think that the island wants me to
do
something, and I think I just figured out what it is. You know how the gate on the Death Twin opens on schedule, right? Every June and December, on the solstice?” I spoke quickly; my latest epiphany was so
clear
. “Well, the Summer Solstice is a few weeks away. I think that Nil wants to make sure no one goes through from this end. It's the only thing that makes sense.”

“Nothing about this makes sense,” Rives grumbled. He fell silent as he considered my idea.

I fought the urge to keep talking, giving Rives the minute he needed to catch up with me.

“You may have a point.” He forced the words out, like the admission cost him. “But, if Nil is so hell-bent on stopping the influx of kids, why keep Paulo? And what about the random gates? Who knows how many more kids are on Nil now. What does stopping one person do?”

One person.

One person can change a world
, I thought, stifling the suffocating void bubbling up inside me.
And not always for the better.

“What does stopping one person do?” I repeated softly, hearing the ache in my own voice. “It's a start. And I'm pretty sure it's what Nil wants.”

Part of me—a huge part—still believed Nil was tired. Tired of living, tired of existing, tired of taking lives. When I'd been on Nil, I'd felt the island's fatigue with a certainty that left no room for question. I couldn't imagine that level of exhaustion had faded.

Which meant that while I'd helped save lots of people, I hadn't helped the island—not the way it wanted.

Why did Paulo stay behind?

What did I miss?

Rives stared at me, a slight frown marring his beautiful features. I'd drifted and he'd let me; it was his way of trying to see where I was going. Sitting up straight, I directed our conversation back on track.

“Nil wants me to block that gate,” I said firmly. “I know it.”

“Then let Maaka do it,” Rives said flatly. “He knows that the island has changed. He came around to our point of view, remember? So he'll be the one to keep anyone from going to Nil from this end. From the Death Twin. It's not your job.”

“Maybe it is.” My tone was gentle. “You knew Maaka better than I did. He chose to leave with us, which counts for something. But he didn't seem overly helpful, Rives, or understanding. I don't know that he'd say anything.”

Rives looked away. His thoughts followed his gaze, and for a long moment, he was far, far away.

“I think Maaka would do the right thing to help his people,” he said finally. “He was proud of his island heritage and traditions, but I think he finally understood that Nil had changed. And he strikes me as the sort of person that once his mind is made up, it's tough to change. So if I had to guess, I'd say Maaka would have told his elders about the way Nil had become twisted.”

“I don't want to guess,” I said. “And even if Maaka does tell the truth, what if the elders don't listen? What if the elders still support sending firstborns? Or even if they don't encourage it, what if they do nothing? What if someone decides to go to Nil anyway? We have to make sure.” Conviction strengthened my words, assuaging the ache thrumming through my veins. “We can't let anyone go through that gate. We have to stop that tradition, forever.”

Relief washed over me with the certainty of my words.

Help me
, she'd said.
Choose me.

That's what she wants
, I thought.
That's what the girl—
I couldn't bring myself to even think the name Talla—
the voice of the island, has been trying to tell me. Nil needs me to block the stationary gate in June and end the islanders' tradition.

But is that enough?
I wondered. Doubt dulled my relief.

“I want to talk to Charley and Thad,” I said suddenly. “Especially Thad. I want them to read my uncle's journal—the one that led me to Nil in the first place.”

“Why?” Rives regarded me intently. “I've read your uncle's journal, Skye. And you probably have it memorized by now. What do you think Thad and Charley will find that we haven't? And if something stands out, what would we do with it anyway?”

“I just can't help wondering if maybe there's something in that journal that will help convince the elders or the person next in line not to go,” I said. “Maybe something from the journal will click with Thad's experience. Maybe he met an islander, someone who can tell us something—something we don't even know to ask. Maybe we can even find a way to destroy that gate for good, or at least keep it from ever opening again.”