Chapter Twenty

Mateo pulls back his arm with the grace of a baseball pitcher and launches a small, flat stone into the river. It skips two, three, four times before it eventually sinks into the water.

The early morning rays drift through the overhead aperture, bathing our skin in a hazy glow. The others are still sleeping. On the other side of the embers, Rae lies on her back with her bag over her feet, while Sylvie emits light, even snores. Bodin faces me, his body relaxed but his hand gripping the flashlight, as though ready to spring into battle at the first signal.

I watch Mateo, my knees pulled into my chest. The pile of stones next to him dwindles, and when he gets down to five, maybe six, rocks, I take a deep breath and approach.

“I never thanked you for helping me with the water,” I say, as I lay down my backpack and plop down next to him. “You didn’t have to, and I—I appreciate it.”

“It was no problem, Alaia,” he says solemnly.

He holds up one of the rocks between his thumb and index finger. I take it and launch it across the river, just like he did.

Except, it plunks, heavy and awkwardly, straight into the water, just like I did yesterday afternoon.

“You’re a natural,” Mateo observes, laughter in his voice.

“I offer lessons,” I say. “But you’ll have to book quickly. My schedule fills up fast, since I’m very popular.”

“I bet you are.” His humor fades away, his eyes turning serious once more. “That’s something I’ve never been.”

“What, popular?” I pick up another stone and launch it across the water. This time, it bounces once before sinking to the bottom. “Me neither. But I never really wanted to be, you know? Then, people are watching you all the time. Idolizing you or tearing you apart. I’d much rather slink along the shadows, unnoticed.”

“But you’re so pretty.” I start to protest, but he rushes on. “Whether or not you know it, people do notice you. Me, on the other hand?” He shakes his head self-deprecatingly. “I’ve never been under the illusion that I look like Bodin. Lola’s the only girl who’s ever showed any interest in me, you know.”

“Well, it was their loss,” I say fiercely. “Anyone would be lucky to have you as their boyfriend.”

He smiles sadly. “I appreciate the vote of confidence. But I do wonder, if circumstances weren’t what they are, would Lola even be willing to talk to me, much less kiss me?”

“Yes.” If I say it emphatically enough, will he believe me? “You have to give her some credit. Lola’s a smart girl, and she no doubt sees how good you are. How kind. How caring.”

“I hope so,” he says.

The silence swells, so for a moment there’s nothing else in the cave, no danger lurking in the darkness, no evil scientist controlling our lives. Just the two of us by the river, our pile of rocks sunken to the muddy bottom.

Someone clears their throat.

I startle, leaping away from Mateo, even though we’ve done nothing that I would hide.

The others are awake. Sylvie and Rae rub the sleep out of their eyes, while Bodin is putting materials in his backpack.

“We should get going.” Bodin addresses the group of us, his eyes dark and unreadable. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

…

The natural light disappears as we descend into the cave’s depths. The river ends abruptly in a pool of water, so we pick a tunnel and move into it, farther and farther from the natural skylight. I swallow hard. The sunlight is like an old friend, and saying goodbye to it once again feels neither safe nor comforting. We have the flashlight, sure. But the beam throws odd shapes onto the cave walls, highlighting a patch of slippery moss here and a protruding stalagmite there. It reminds me of all the dangers that we cannot see: the monsters and booby traps hidden by the darkness.

My sneakered feet slide across the ground, the loose pebbles rolling against one another in a staccato rhythm. Behind me, Sylvie is depositing leaves at regular intervals. The air smells and tastes stale, and I inhale dust with each breath.

The heavy atmosphere isn’t helped by the fact that Bodin appears to be ignoring me. He hasn’t said a word to me since he saw me with Mateo this morning.

I want to make things right between us. I want to recreate the trust that enveloped us last night by the fire. But how do I explain to him that Mateo and I have nothing but a warm friendship…when Bodin hasn’t really asked? It’s all I can do to place one foot in front of the other.

“Hey, you,” Rae calls out. We’ve changed our hiking formation today, and I’m second in line, behind Bodin and in front of Mateo. Sylvie and Rae bring up the rear.

At first, I think Rae’s talking to me, but then Mateo yelps, and I realize that she’s poked him in the shoulder. “You’re breathing too loudly. I can’t hear a darn thing.”

“What’s there to hear?” Mateo asks.

“I don’t know,” Rae says grumpily. “Maybe the slithering of a monster like Krasue? She’s got the head of a young female attached to a bunch of exposed entrails—”

“Entrails?” Sylvie’s voice pitches higher. “You mean like stomach and intestines?”

“Exactly,” Rae says. “As folklore has it, she’s always hungry and her snack of choice is blood and raw flesh.”

“Yummy,” Bodin comments.

“If Krasue is lurking around these tunnels, we’re goners, anyway,” Mateo says reasonably.

“Not if I push you down and run in the opposite direction.” Rae smirks.

“Now, now,” Sylvie says. “Not much of a morning person, are you?”

“Caffeine withdrawal is a real, documented condition,” Rae agrees.

I let out a small giggle—better that than a yelp of terror. But as I do, a clawing pain reverberates through the empty walls inside me.

Hunger. It’s been twenty-four hours since we last ate, and I am ravenous, especially with the energy I exerted yesterday. But as badly as I’m suffering, Mama must be even worse off, without her pills and cancer eating away at her health. So, I grit my teeth and try to ignore the pangs in my stomach.

“I haven’t even told you about Phi Kong Koi,” Rae continues conversationally. “He’s a one-legged vampire that likes to haunt wooded areas. They say he enjoys sucking blood from intruders with his tubular mouth. That’s why you should always cover your extremities while you sleep.”

I stumble, remembering the backpack over Rae’s feet last night. My sneakers offer some protection—but not enough. “And you couldn’t have told us this earlier?”

“You didn’t ask,” she says smugly.

We continue walking—although that’s a generous way of describing it. More accurately, we push farther into a darkness so deep it is nearly solid, not knowing what dangers wait to devour us.

Clatter, clatter, clatter.

Clatter, clatter, clatter.

Clatter, clatter, clatter, crunch.

Wait a minute. What was that? Just my imagination gone awry, or a subtle change in our path?

Clatter, clatter, clatter, crunch.

There it is again. Bodin’s swinging the flashlight, so I squint at the ground when the beam points down. Ah. A dried and crumbly leaf, like the ones we gathered outside the cave. That’s what made the noise.

Except…Sylvie, who volunteered to scatter the leaves, is last in our hiking formation. Which means: any leaf that she has dropped to mark our trail should be behind me.

“Um, guys?” My wobbly voice echoes against the cave walls. “I hate to say this, but I think we might be walking in circles.”

Oof. I plow right into Bodin’s back.

“Seriously, dude?” Mateo says, annoyed. “Again?”

Ow. I rub my nose. Thankfully, it’s not bleeding once more.

“Are you okay?” Bodin asks, peering at me, which might be the first words he’s said to me this morning.

I nod wordlessly.

Sylvie grabs her flashlight back from Bodin and kneels down. “Alaia’s right. Look!” She holds up a yellow-veined leaf that’s crunchy along the edges. “This is exactly like the leaves that I’ve been dropping. We’ve been here before.”

“Some leader,” Rae mutters. “Next thing you know, Bodin will lead us right back out the cave the way that we came in.”

Not helping. “Maybe you could try calling out to an animal again,” I say to Sylvie. “One of your birds, maybe an owl. Something that can guide us out of this mess.”

Sylvie straightens, uselessly brushing the dirt from her mud-stained shorts. “It’s worth a try. Maybe my ability has decided to show up once more.” She hands her flashlight to Mateo and closes her eyes, her chest rising and falling.

Nothing happens.

“Maybe you have to really want it,” Rae says, “like when you wanted the key that was just out of reach.”

“Think about Elizabeth,” I suggest. “All of our loved ones back at camp, counting on us to make it through this cave. To get help.”

“AAARGHHH!” Mateo grabs Sylvie by the shoulders, and she leaps up, nearly smacking her head against the cave wall.

She glares at Mateo. “What. Was. That?”

He shrugs. “I was scaring you. To get you in the right frame of mind.”

“That’s not how I felt when I wanted the key!” Sylvie yelps. “I have to be desperate. Stressed. Adrenaline has to be pumping through my body, my mind has to be whirling with a thousand thoughts a minute—”

Mateo counts off each item on his fingers. “Sounds about right to me. And check it out: it worked.”

He tilts the flashlight to the cave ceiling.

There, flapping around in the beam, is a small, furry, black bat, zooming dizzily in a zigzag direction, as though to say, “Follow me.”

…

We follow the bat.

Bits of conversation drift up from the back of our group, but Bodin and I don’t talk. He does check over his shoulder every couple of minutes, though, to give me an encouraging nod or wink. The air between us has thawed somewhat, with the arrival of the bat, and with each gesture of acknowledgment, I float a little higher.

Which won’t do. I need to pay attention to my surroundings, so that I don’t trip and break my neck.

As we troop after our winged leader, anticipation builds. I’m certain that we’re approaching something in our journey. I just don’t know what it is.

The opaque blackness becomes more transparent, and shadows begin to fade. And then—up ahead. A ray of sunlight, shining through scattered pinpoint holes in the rocky ceiling. The pinholes turn into quarters and then plates and then spare tires. The blue sky shimmers down on us once more from another aperture in the cavern’s roof.

“We’ve got to be approaching the exit,” I say.

“Maybe,” Bodin says doubtfully, his eyes on our friendly neighborhood bat.

“The walls are shorter now,” Mateo says behind me. “They’ve got to be only about ten feet.”

“We’re rising!” I exclaim. “That has to be a good sign.”

“Alaia, please take two steps to your right,” Bodin commands.

“Why?”

“Because I’m about to stop walking, and considering that you’ve smashed into me twice now, I’d like to save your cute little nose.”

Cute? Did he just call me—or at least my nose—cute?

I halt my stride, and so does he, half-turning to me.

“Do you hear that?” he asks.

I listen—and there it is: the steady hum of a current.

“Another river?” Mateo asks, joining us.

Bodin nods curtly. “Hopefully, this one will actually lead us out of the cave.” He points a finger at me. “You, no running. We can’t have you falling over any more cliffs.”

I give him a salute. “Yes, sir!”

He actually smiles.

We inch forward carefully. A dozen feet later, still inside the cave, the rocky ground ends abruptly, and we come upon another cliff.

My pulse pounding in my ears, I peek over the edge. And then, my heart plummets right down into the abyss.

Below me lies a stream of liquid, all right. But instead of the murky water we encountered before, the brook here runs thick and red…