Nil on Fire (9 page)

Rives didn't respond.

“We have to try,” I insisted. “We have to ask. We have to do all we can, on
this
side.”

He cursed under his breath. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because Nil is tired. Because the girl—
Nil
—asked for help. She asked me to
choose
,” I said quietly. “And it's not the first time.”

Confusion replaced worry on Rives's face. “What do you mean?”

“When you were on Nil, did you ever hear the island?”

We rarely talked about our time there. The best part we already knew, already shared. But this question needed an answer.

Watching his expression shift, I knew he'd say yes before he opened his mouth.

“It took me a while to realize I was hearing Nil,” Rives said. “But I was. Nil called me to the Cove; it's how I found the Looking Glass Cavern.” He lifted his gaze to the night sky. “The island is something I don't understand, because it's not of our world. But is it real? Is it alive? Hell, yeah. Absolutely.”

Now he looked at me.

“It scares the hell out of me, Skye. I don't know how to deal with this—this
thing
that's alive. This foreign thing that's somehow messing with you, here.” He kissed me passionately, almost out of control, then he pulled away, pulling himself together. As I watched, Leader Rives roared back. “Why the question about hearing Nil? We know you're hearing Nil now. At least we think you are.”

I couldn't tell if Rives was in denial or just not fully convinced.

Choose me
, the girl of my dreams begged. It
was
Nil, because Nil loved to make people choose—or at least, it loved to make
me
choose. My last moments on Nil swirled like ghosts, ones with murder in their hearts.

“Skye, talk to me,” Rives said. “I can't read you, other than the fact you're holding something back. If I don't know, I can't help. No more secrets.”

Tell him
, I told myself.

I took a deep breath. “You know that back on Nil, I felt the island's fatigue. But on our very last day, there was a moment when I didn't just feel Nil, I also heard it. It was the moment Nil made me choose.”

“Choose?” Rives frowned.

“Between Dex and Jillian.” I closed my eyes; I couldn't bear to look at Rives. “In the meadow, when you'd already gone to the platform. The hyenas came for us. I had one rock. One chance. The island forced me to choose who to save, Rives.” I was back in the meadow, making my choice, knowing I couldn't win. “I chose Jillian,” I whispered. “And Dex died.”

The ugly truth lay exposed. Now Rives knew what I'd done, why Dex's blood still coated my hands. I'd cried about my choice so many times that no more tears would fall, but something inside me had died that day with Dex.

“Skye.” Rives voice was gentle.

I opened my eyes to find Rives's expression achingly tender. “Don't own Dex's death,” he said. “Like with Nikolai, Nil had already decided Dex's fate. He'd lost so much blood. Dex might not have made the trip home even if you'd chosen him.” His eyes stayed on mine. “If you knew what you know now, would you make the same choice again?”

I didn't hesitate before I nodded.

“I thought so. You saved Jillian. That was huge, Skye. But don't you see?” His tone had grown urgent. “You didn't choose yourself, Skye. You were selfless.”

Live
, the island had said.

The tiger had spared me, then saved me. Or maybe that was the island—once on my first day, once on my last.

Did Nil spare me because the island rewarded my choice? Or because Nil knew it needed me later, as in
now
?

What am I missing?

I leaned into Rives's reassuring weight. His question had released something deep inside me, something small but powerful. I
would
make the same choice again, and knowing that moment would play out the same way gave me a cathartic release that my journal never could; a powerful knot unwound a little, enough to let me breathe without pain.

“I keep wondering what we missed.” I splayed my fingers across his heart. “What
I
missed. Why didn't we finish what we started?”

“We did all we could.”

“Did we?” My voice was thoughtful; my hand fell. Abruptly the darkness of my dreams shifted in meaning: it was a black flag, a warning too late; it was a death notice penned by my hand, written for people I'd never met.

Call it the butterfly effect
, my dad had warned me once.
A ripple in time or fate. Our choices define and shape our lives, and our choices impact others.

Me, choosing Jillian. Me, not choosing Dex.

Me, letting Paulo go last.

My choices, all impacting others, all with ripples reaching into today. Teens with names I'd never know, with faces I'd never see, all suffering on Nil—because of me. Because of
my
choice to end Nil and break the cycle of death. But I hadn't.

I'd just made things worse.

A terrible reality set in. I began to shake. “I think that by saving those on the island with us, we left it a living hell for those who came next. We didn't shut Nil down; we altered the island for the worse.” I pushed away from Rives, feeling a growing sense of horror. “It's like the greatest butterfly-effect fail ever. Thanks to us, the newcomers won't know about food or deadleaf bushes or Search or gates. They won't know how to escape. And for all we know, that meadow fire burned the groves. At a minimum, it drove the big animals out of the meadow, and they'll go where they can find food—like Nil City. And the worst part?” My voice grew choked. “The newcomers won't know about the year deadline—unless by some miracle Paulo tells them.”

“He will,” Rives said with confidence. “He'll set everyone on the right track. Have faith in him, Skye.”

“I did,” I said quietly.

But something had changed. Something had changed Paulo's
mind
, changed his choice—and maybe changed Paulo himself.

And I had no idea what this Paulo was doing now.

Choose me
, the girl had said. It
was
Nil. The island had forced me to choose once; now it was asking. It was giving me the chance—and the
choice
—to do what was right. To correct my mistake, and finish what I started.

Regardless of what Paulo was doing on the other side, I had to block that gate. I had to be on the Death Twin on the Summer Solstice. I had to stop Nil once and for all.

And I wasn't meant to go alone.

That revelation rushed through me like light.

“I want you to come with me, Rives.” I grabbed his arm, speaking fast. “To the Death Twin on the Summer Solstice. You convinced Maaka once, and you might have to do it again. Or convince someone else equally determined to keep this crazy tradition going.” I knew Rives would loathe the idea of getting anywhere near Nil. “I know it's asking a lot, after all you've been through. But I really want you to come with me. I don't want to do this alone.”

He smiled slowly, that melty Rives smile that made the rest of the world fall away, lighting his gorgeous green eyes from within. Only this time, his eyes burned a little too bright, as if there were too much emotion threatening to spill out the edges.

“Skye.” He shook his head slightly, his voice rough. “You didn't even need to ask.”

 

CHAPTER

20

RIVES

JUNE 10, NIGHT

Nil nightmare round two had begun.

Or maybe the first one never ended.

The sick thing was, the latest installment of the twisted Nil saga had caught me completely off guard. You'd think by now I'd be used to the unexpected, but where Nil was concerned, I was more than a slow learner. It was like I had a Nil blind spot. I tended not to see the twists coming.

Not a happy thought. Or a safe one.

Thad constantly cautioned,
Eyes wide open
.

Always
, I'd think.

But now? Now I worried that even with my eyes wide open, the blind spot was still there, keeping me from seeing the truth. Keeping me from seeing the danger. Putting all of us at risk. Putting
Skye
at risk. And that was the worst part. Skye was in danger, and I finally saw it, thanks to the roaring blackness in her head so large that my blind spot didn't matter. Her dad knew it too.

It was written all over his face as she outlined her latest plan to revisit the Death Twin on the Summer Solstice.

“Let me talk to your mother,” he said quietly. Then he looked at me. “Rives, a quick word?”

Skye crossed her arms. “Anything you can say to Rives you can say to me.”

“Not everything.” Her dad's expression didn't change. “We need a guys' moment. Father to boyfriend. We won't be long.”

Skye rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed.

Pulling me into his office, the professor put his hand on my shoulder with a grip so firm that movement wasn't an option. “Rives, I know Skye. And I know you do too. Which tells me that she's going to that Death Twin, with or without us.” His jaw ticked. “Clearly you agree with me, because you've already agreed to go.”

I nodded.

“So we'll go with her. Hopefully she's right, that blocking the gate—that changing an islander's
mind
—will end the vicious Nil cycle once and for all. But something tells me there's greater danger on that Death Twin than Skye appreciates, and you're the only one who can keep her safe. Promise me that you'll watch out for my daughter.”

“I promise,” I said.

Skye's dad studied me. “I hope you can keep that promise.” He sighed. He dropped his hand, then ran it through his hair. “And Rives?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Whatever you do”—his voice was dangerously quiet—“you keep her away from that gate. At all costs. You understand? Do not let her go back.”

Ice shot down my spine.

At all costs. Do not let her go back.

Merde.

Despite her denial, deep down Skye was considering a return trip to Nil. Her dad saw it, and now, so did I. Maybe Skye didn't see it yet; maybe she wouldn't admit it to herself. Hell, I'd barely considered the sick idea, because I hadn't wanted to. But why else would she want Thad to look at the journal?

And then it clicked.

To save Paulo.

That's why she wants to go back.

It was a miracle the Bracken house wasn't full of stray dogs and cats; Skye's urge to rescue things in distress had few limits.

She'd even rescued me.

But to go back to Nil? The idea shook me to the core.

“Rives?” The professor pinned me with his gaze. “Promise me. Do not let her go back.”

“You have my word,” I said.

As I walked out of his office, I fervently hoped I could keep that promise. All I knew for sure was that I'd die trying. I just hoped it didn't come to that. But where Nil was concerned, nothing was a given.

Skye sat in the living room, a look of satisfaction on her face, her phone in her hand. My gut said her plotting had reached epic proportions.

“Guess what?” She was beaming. “I just talked to Charley. Instead of meeting us in Seattle, she and Thad are going to meet us in Hawaii. They're going to the Death Twin with us.”

“You're joking.” I stared at her, shocked. “Thad would never agree to that. And they can't afford it anyway.”

“He did.” Skye smiled. “And they can. They only have to fly from Seattle, remember? And they're using money they saved for our summer trip. Charley and I have been talking, and she agrees with my idea. She thinks closure would be good for all of us.”

Closure.
I almost snorted.

“And Thad actually agreed to this. He jumped right in.” My statement dripped disbelief.

Skye had the grace to blush. “Well, at first he yelled something in the background that sounded like
Hell, no
, but then eventually he said he'd go. Well, specifically he said”—Skye made air quotes with her fingers—“
‘
There's no way in hell Charley's getting anywhere near Nil without me.' He said they were a package deal.”

I could relate on all counts.

“A road trip, then.” I studied her carefully. “But Skye, listen to me. This trip ends at the Death Twin. No farther. We are not going back to Nil.”

“You have my word,” she said solemnly.

But her mind was closed, like her expression.

She was up to something, and I didn't like it.

I had ten days to figure it out.

 

CHAPTER

21

NIL

MORNING

Paulo stared at Hafthor, wondering what in the world this kid was doing.
Scratch that
, Paulo thought. He had absolutely no idea what this
man
was doing.

Hafthor was a hulking beast of a person, crouched over a trio of small wooden houses crafted against a black boulder at the City's edge, his blond hair falling into his eyes while he worked. Stepping back, Hafthor regarded the middle house intently. Broken white shells defined the houses' open windows and doors, all facing the sea, all slightly misshapen, like the houses themselves. Both Hafthor and the tiny houses looked incredibly out of place, a man toying with a child's playthings in a place where there were no children and never would be.

“What are you
doing
?” Paulo flicked his eyes from Hafthor to the houses and back again.

“Finishing the roof,” Hafthor answered. He tenderly placed another bundle of coconut husks on top of the tiny wooden structure, a giant holding fragile matchsticks.