JUNE 18, LATE MORNING
Me, hunting for Maaka.
Skye, trying to stop Nil.
Some things never change, I thought.
Nil was a freight train, roaring toward me, cloaked in darkness, and I couldn’t stop it. Only Nil wasn’t coming for me. Nil wanted the strongest survivor to play Nil’s game, the same survivor that stole all of Nil’s prizes but one. Sure, Paulo stayed—but Nil wanted Skye. No matter how many times she denied it, I knew Nil wanted Skye; I’d felt it in the darkness when Skye had let me in. Calculating Nil was up to something, and all I knew for certain was that it wasn’t good.
At least Thad and I were on the same page. Neither of us wanted to get anywhere near the Death Twins or the solstice gate. Our plan was to keep the four of us far, far away. Stall, if possible. Do what we could from the main island, and leave the rest up to the islanders. It was the only way to keep Skye out of harm’s way. Out of Nil’s clutches.
Too late, the cold whisper at the back of my head crooned.
I stiffened.
“What?” asked Skye. Her steel-flecked eyes saw too much.
“Just thinking that we’ve got three days until the solstice. We’re cutting it close.”
A truth and a lie. We were cutting it close.
“True.” She sounded worried. “We’ll make it. Right, Dad?”
“Yes, we’ll make it, Skye,” he answered. “But let’s focus on the islanders, on the main island first, shall we? I truly would prefer you stay away from that Death Twin.”
No shit. And I truly would prefer that Nil stay the hell out of my head.
She frowned at me, then squirmed toward the backseat. “Thad, I’ve got something for you to see. My uncle’s journal. I’m sure Rives told you about it, but it’s how I ended up on Nil in the first place. I want you to read it, and look at my uncle’s notes.”
His acceptance was reflexive, but his face had the look of someone handed something he didn’t ask for, didn’t want.
“Why?” Thad’s voice was flat. The journal sat unopened in his hand. “How will it help now?”
“I’m wondering if anything looks familiar to you, or stands out as important. Maybe something that will help us convince the elders to stop their crazy tradition?”
Thad glanced at the journal as if it were kryptonite. “Skye, I hear you. But I can’t help you. There’s nothing in here the elders don’t already know, I guarantee that. So, no thanks. I can’t go back to Nil. Not even through someone else’s head. Sorry.”
He moved to hand the journal back to Skye, but Charley deftly intercepted it.
“I’ll take a look,” she said.
Thad’s lips were tight, but he said nothing.
* * *
For the next few days, the journal never left Charley’s hands; she was as obsessed as Skye. The two of them constantly pored over the journal with silent whispers, animated hands. The freight-train-coming-that-was-Nil roared louder in my head.
“I seriously can’t believe we agreed to this.” Thad’s eyes stayed on Charley as the boat skipped across the open water. She was intently studying a page in the journal’s middle. “How the hell is this going to end well?”
“We’re going to go to the Isles of the Gods, talk to the elders and Maaka, everyone’s going to agree that Nil is now a bad, bad place, and no one needs to go to the Death Twin on the solstice or actually, ever, especially us. We’ll all be one happy family. End of story.”
Thad laughed out loud. “Right.”
“You don’t like my version?”
“I do, man. I do. It’s just—this is Nil we’re talking about. Nil’s a wild card, always, and she loves to throw in a twist.” He shook his head. “I have a bad feeling it’s not going to shake out like we think.”
I sighed. “Me either.”
The crappy fact was, Thad had hit the Nil nail square on the head. Island rules, island games. Building toward something only Nil knew.
One day, I told myself. Then it’s over.
I didn’t react when the cold laugh echoed through my skull.
One day, I repeated silently, my thoughts savage. And then it’s on.
* * *
“Four hours!” the professor yelled, over the sound of the choppy surf. “We’ll be there in four hours!”
Tick tock.
The constant clock.
Time passed with the waves. Skye’s uncle’s journal disappeared into Charley’s pack; our conversations vanished as well.
The rough sea bounced us around like popcorn.
Charley looked green, seriously seasick. Skye and Thad, on the other hand, looked remarkably chill. Skye’s expression was calm, her face determined and set; Thad’s expression was resolute, like a man previewing his funeral.
If I had to guess, my expression mirrored Thad’s.
The closer we got, the worse I felt. Only the queasy feeling in my gut had nothing to do with the boat ride and everything to do with Nil. My blind spot stretched like a black hole in my head.
Skye pointed ahead. “Look!” she shouted over the noise.
An emerald mountain gleamed in my line of sight. I’d forgotten how much the main island resembled Nil. It stretched wide, boasting a massive brilliant green peak. Two smaller islands lurked in the distance, each with a small patchy green peak and black cliffs. The Death Twins. Aptly named, I thought, and not for the first time. Twin spires of green, one harboring a platform, a portal to death opening in a few days’ time.
Nice.
I snapped a series of pictures of the Death Twins, then a few of the main island. The only person in sight was an older man on the long wooden dock. Through the telephoto lens, his dark-brown eyes were sharp. Wrinkles etched his face; crisp black ink swirled across his arms and chest. He seemed to be waiting for us.
I capped my lens and stashed my camera in my pack, an idea forming as I watched the man on the dock. We moored smoothly. The wrinkled man tossed a rope to our captain and the two of them secured the boat easily, a practiced move. Our captain—a fellow by the name of Charles—tugged the knot once, then leaped onto the dock.
“Uncle!” Charles called, grinning. The men greeted each other affectionately.
Skye’s dad stepped off the boat and offered his hand to the older gentleman. “Rangi,” the professor said warmly. “Good to see you.”
Rangi clasped Skye’s dad’s hand, his smile knowing. “Interesting timing, Dr. Bracken.”
“Indeed. It is the longest day of the year tomorrow.” Skye’s dad nodded, his eyes intent on Rangi. “This place seemed the perfect place to celebrate it.”
“I think you’ll be disappointed, Dr. Bracken,” Rangi said softly. “We have nothing planned for tomorrow that would hold your interest.” His eyes flicked briefly to the four of us, his smile slipping a fraction. “I think you have come a long way for nothing.”
His eyes were back on the professor.
“Perhaps.” Skye’s dad smiled. “I consider myself a cautious optimist, Rangi. Perhaps it’s disappointment we’re looking for.”
The two danced around the solstice subject like players in a chess match. Silence crackled between them, grounded in a history I didn’t know. But judging from the set of Skye’s face, she did. Seconds passed, time lost. The Nil train roared loud enough to rattle me.
Enough, I thought.
I stepped forward and introduced myself. “Rangi, I’m Rives. Pleased to meet you, sir.”
Rangi shook my hand, his expression one of surprise as his eyes met mine, then flicked across my chest, taking in my coloring, my new tattoos. Understanding clouding his certainty. An islander, he’d realized. A twist he didn’t expect but couldn’t help but respect, a factor he didn’t know how to handle. So much like Maaka.
Dropping his hand, I nodded.
“Rangi, you know why we’re here. Let’s not pretend. Tomorrow is the Summer Solstice, which has more meaning here than any other place in this world.”
“Rives,” the professor warned. Don’t press, his tone said.
Too late, I thought.
Rangi’s barely hidden haughtiness reminded me of Maaka. Outsider, it screamed. This was Maaka in fifty years. My idea crystallized in silent certainty.
I smiled thinly. “Rangi, are you an island elder?”
Surprise flickered through his eyes. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I need to talk to an elder. And I think you’re one.”
He didn’t answer, so I forged onward. “I know we’ve been here for less than two minutes. But time is precious, both here and on another remote island, one in another world, an island some people call Nil. I know your people call it something else.”
Rangi didn’t respond. I waited until I knew he wouldn’t.
“Did Maaka talk with you after he returned?” I asked. “Did he tell you how that island has changed? That it’s not the place it once was?”
Rangi’s expression cooled.
“Council meetings are private matters, young Rives. If the elders met with Maaka, I would not be at liberty to tell you what was discussed. It does not concern you.”
“Wrong,” I said. “It absolutely concerns me. It concerns all of us standing here. It concerns all the people in both worlds, those here and there, and it especially concerns the unlucky kid tapped to go tomorrow.”
Rangi said nothing. He didn’t even flinch.
I hadn’t expected an elder cone of silence on this scale.
“So,” I spoke slowly, “the elders may or may not have spoken to Maaka after he returned. He may or may not have discussed how the island we call Nil has changed, and the elders may or may not have listened to him. And based on a meeting that may or may not have occurred, the elders may or may not have made a decision whether to allow anyone through tomorrow’s solstice portal. Does that sum up the situation?”
A glint of amusement lit Rangi’s dark eyes. “Perhaps.”
“Thanks for the help,” I said sarcastically, my cool slipping. “And I bet if I ask, you have no idea where Maaka is.”
Rangi shrugged. “Last time I saw him he was fishing on the island’s north shore. But I don’t know where he is now.”
Of course you don’t, I thought. At least Rangi had confirmed Maaka was here. I’d silently feared he’d fled to the mainland, so at least we still had a shot at finding him; it just wouldn’t be easy.
Nothing involving Nil ever was.
Skye’s fingers tugged mine.
“Isn’t that Maaka?” She pointed.
Down the black sand beach, a bare-chested boy sporting black tattoos across his left shoulder, chest, and arm stood talking animatedly with a girl. She wore a yellow floral dress, her dark hair long and flowing. For a moment, I thought it was Kiera. One long look confirmed it wasn’t Kiera, but the boy was definitely Maaka.
“Yup,” I said, not letting go of Skye’s hand. “It’s reunion time.”
We started jogging.
“Wait!” Rangi’s voice echoed over the water breaking against the dock. “Let me show you to your house!”
I didn’t turn. “Later,” I said. I didn’t care if he heard.
Thad and Charley kept pace behind us. I kept my eyes on Maaka; I didn’t want to risk losing him, not when he was so close. I knew how elusive he could be.
Before we were in voice range, the Kiera look-alike strode off. Maaka watched her go, arms crossed, back to us. As I strode up behind him, he turned, probably because I was panting; my stealth skills had slipped, either from disuse or desperation.
“Rives.” Maaka looked mildly surprised. “What brings you to my island?”
“The use of the possessive is a nice touch.” I nodded. “Good to see you too, Maaka.” I tipped my head toward the girl, who was getting farther away with each second. “I see you haven’t lost your way with the ladies.”
A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “What brings you here, Leader Rives?”
“You remember Skye.” She waved. “And this is Charley, and Thad. Every one of us has been to Nil and back. Like you.” I paused. “Or not like you, Maaka. If you recall, we flew standby while you went first class.”
“But we all arrived at the same place.” He shrugged.
I snorted. “That’s debatable, but it’s not a discussion for today. Today let’s talk about tomorrow, shall we? And please don’t tell me the end is already written, unless it’s written that no one goes through that gate tomorrow and the island’s time is up.”
Maaka looked intently at me. “Paulo did not leave with us. He chose to stay. Perhaps he saw something we missed.”
“I don’t think so.” Skye’s firm voice caused Maaka’s head to swivel back toward her. I had the distinct impression he’d forgotten she was there.
“You don’t think what?” Maaka’s condescending tone made my fists curl.
Skye smiled, a dangerous one that let me relax. “I don’t think he chose to stay, Maaka. I think something made him stay. And I think he saw what it was.”
“Do you?” Maaka said blandly. He crossed his arms, putting a wall of ink between him and us. A new tattoo on his right shoulder looked back at me: an eye in the center of a diamond.
“I do.” She straightened. “Maaka, you left with us. You know the island has changed. It’s not safe, for anyone. Please tell me you told the elders.”
He looked down his nose at her. “Why should I tell you? This is not your business.”
“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong.” Her tone stayed cool, calm water hiding a deadly rip current below. “It’s totally my business. I still hear Nil, Maaka. Every night. Every day. Nil called me here, and here I am.”
Maaka paled. “The island called you?”
“At least someone’s finally listening,” Thad said pleasantly.
“Yes.” Skye nodded. “It called me. Still calls me, as a matter of fact, to make sure no one goes through that gate tomorrow. It wants the tradition to end. The island is tired, Maaka.”
“But Paulo stayed.” Defiant Maaka resurfaced.
“Yes, we know.” Skye sighed, frustrated. “We have to trust him on that end. We can’t control what’s happening there. But we can control what’s happening here. And the tradition has to stop.”
For a long moment, the two stood still, a clear face-off, a total déjà vu moment. I flashed back to a similar standoff on Nil. The only thing missing was the Man in the Maze as a backdrop.
“You don’t get to decide,” Maaka said finally. “It’s not your choice. Or mine.”
“Then whose is it?” Skye snapped.
“No one you know. Go home, Skye. Good-bye, Rives.” Maaka started to walk away, and I stepped in front of him.
“So that’s it? You’re done? You’re here, you said your piece to the elders, and you’re washing your hands of that island? To hell with anyone else who goes? Is that it?”
Something like regret flashed through Maaka’s eyes. “It’s not that easy, Leader Rives.”
“Nothing worth fighting for ever is,” I said. “And the end of Nil is worth fighting for.”
He studied me, his gaze thoughtful. Like he was weighing words, deciding trust. “Her name is Lana,” he said finally. “The choice is hers. I gave her my recommendation that the journey is no longer worth the risk: I gave her my knowledge of the island as it is now, and I gave my word that I will not follow her tomorrow. I can do no more.”
His word bound him, not me. Not us. It felt like a total Maaka cop-out.
“You mean you won’t do more,” I said.
He shrugged. “Good luck, Leader Rives. Speak from the heart.” He paused, his expression odd. “Remember what I told you.”
“Always.” I looked sideways at him and almost laughed. “So I guess this was the middle after all, right, Maaka?”
He turned away, toward the Death Twin. “The middle,” he repeated slowly. “The end. A new beginning. I don’t know anymore.” His tone reflected an inner confusion that almost made me feel sorry for him. Almost. “Only time will tell,” he said quietly. “It does not run backward.” He spun back to me, his dark eyes oddly fiery. “Remember what I told you.” He offered his hand, a first for us. “Lana is my cousin. She is strong. Like her.” He nodded at Skye. “I would prefer Lana not go. But her mind is set. Perhaps you can make the difference. Perhaps you will bring this cycle to an end.” His eyes flicked between me and Skye, and I wasn’t entirely sure which of us he was referring to.
But it didn’t matter. Like Charley and Thad, Skye and I were a package deal.
I shook Maaka’s hand, wondering if he’d ever man up like he should. “I’ll try.”
He nodded. “That’s all you can do.”
Maaka turned and walked away. I had the strangest sense that this was our true good-bye, that I’d never see him again.
“What the hell did you just agree to?” Thad’s voice cut through my quiet revelation.
“A trip to the Death Twin tomorrow,” Skye said. She sounded disturbingly cheery. “Who’s in?”