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.”
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.”