LATE MORNING
The island watched the one called Lana, for she was watching too.
* * *
Her back to a rock, Lana sat on the white sand at the beach’s edge, studying the black cliff that housed the Looking Glass Cavern. She’d seen Skye emerge from the ocean, the boy—the Leader—with her. At the water’s edge, he’d wrapped her in his arms as if he couldn’t bear to have any air between them. A surge of envy had flared inside her as they kissed, then Lana’s anger resurfaced, dousing her inexplicable surge of jealousy. She didn’t want to be kissed, not here, or be part of a twosome. She didn’t need anyone else, haole or otherwise.
She did, however, want Skye and her band of friends to stop following her.
It made her furious that Skye had seen her crying in the cavern. A few minutes before her meltdown, she’d been shocked to run into a boy in the passageway. She’d been feeling her way along the wall, trailing her fingertips along the cold rock, and then, without warning, she’d touched a human hand. She wasn’t a screamer, but she’d screamed then. She never even saw him, just heard his voice as he apologized, a deep voice vibrating with his own fright. She hadn’t spoken, just ran around him, all the way to the cavern. Standing in front of the pool, her heartbeat had finally slowed, her own fright wearing off. And anger had followed. Why had her simple journey turned so complicated, so crowded? Her anger had driven her to tears, and then abruptly she’d felt she wasn’t alone. And when she’d turned, there was Skye, an expression of pity and concern on her face before Skye ducked back into the shadows. It was unbearable.
So Lana had left.
She hadn’t waited for Skye to barge out and annoy her; she was done with haole meddling. The problem was, now Lana wasn’t sure where to go. In the span of two days, the haoles had driven her from her cave, the City, and then the Looking Glass Cavern, the three places she was to spend her first quarter on the island. Reflection before Sight, her grandmother had told her.
Lana sighed. Her grandmother had made everything sound so straightforward. But the reality was anything but. At least now she finally had the solitude she craved. She would embrace this moment for what it was.
White sand sprawled in both directions, crisp and calm, cooler than the hot sting of the charcoal sand to the south. In this quiet moment, the rising sun warmed her shoulders and the powerful waves crooned; they rolled into shore with whispers and promises of more to come.
Soft fur brushed her leg. Lana woke with a start, startled to find that she’d actually fallen asleep. A tabby kitten rubbed against her calf, mewing softly.
“Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing,” Lana said.
Smiling, she reached down and picked up the tabby, cradling the tiny body against her chest. The kitten purred, its body vibrating with happiness. The last wave retreated, leaving a stretch of silence in its wake, and the hair on the back of Lana’s neck abruptly prickled.
An odd huffing noise sounded behind her, followed by a low growl. Tabby in hand, she turned, slowly. For the second time in one day, she screamed.
A massive brown bear stood on its hind legs, stretching to a height taller than her. It clacked its jaws, a terrifying sound. Ears back, the bear dropped to all fours as Lana stumbled backward, fully aware that the small boulder she’d slept against offered little in the way of defense, prolonging her life by seconds at most.
I’m dead, she thought. It’s over.
What a pitiful end. She had no way to protect herself, nowhere to run. Time rushed backward and forward, a blur of memories and a well of regrets, the heartbeat of the kitten in her arms melding with the warm sand beneath her feet and hot sun overhead. Her world shrunk to the predator lurching toward her, its mouth open, teeth bared.
Her arms wrapped protectively around the kitten, Lana closed her eyes, willing the attack to end quickly.
The air in front of her thickened with heat and sound and the rush of hot breath. Liquid sprayed across her face, sticky and warm; something landed near her feet with a ground-shaking thud.
Her eyes flew open. The brown bear twitched at her feet, a dark body in a hollow of its own making. Crimson droplets stood out on the snow-white sand, ridiculously out of place. Paulo stood over the bear, bloody knife in hand, his torso and tattoos splattered with fresh blood.
“You killed it,” Lana said, dumbstruck.
“Yes, I know.” Paulo regarded her with a weary look, one she was accustomed to seeing only on elders. “And I wish I hadn’t had to.” Stepping back from the bear, he cleaned the blade on a nearby leaf as he spoke. “I’ve been tracking him for weeks. He’s been hanging around the City. He steals from the firepit occasionally, and he’s gotten bolder. I suspect he’s just hungry and out of sorts. Was, I mean.” Paulo glanced down at the silent bear with a pitying expression, then his head snapped up to look at her. Fire lit his eyes from within. “Let this be a wake-up call, Lana. My friends tried to warn you about this place. It’s not the island of old. Honestly, you’re lucky I was here, at this moment.” He cocked his head. “But perhaps it wasn’t luck. Perhaps it was meant to be. We’re fast-forwarding to your middle, Lana. Whatever your plan was, it’s shot. This bear is only part of it. You have to be smarter. You have to be alert at all times. There is no downtime, not here.” His look turned scrutinizing. “Unless you’re ready to die. Cowering before a bear isn’t wise. Looking large, fighting back—that at least gives you a chance. For a second there, I thought you gave up.”
Lana bit back her retort, hating the truth she heard in Paulo’s words.
“Two more things.” Paulo’s voice was disturbingly matter-of-fact. “First, you owe me. I actually don’t want anything from you, but there’s something we all need. So I ask this: regardless of what you choose to do in the coming weeks, if you’re still alive in three months, meet me at the equinox gate. There is no doubt in my mind that we will all see the end that day.”
“You’re asking me to leave early,” Lana said, her temper flaring. “To cut my journey short. To give up the chance for Sight. You ask too much.” The edge in her voice matched the blade of Paulo’s knife.
“Your life is worth less?” His voice was soft.
For the second time in minutes Lana held her tongue. She stared at Paulo, feeling her years of planning pop like a child’s balloon.
“What’s the second thing?” she demanded.
Paulo pointed at the sun. “Take note, Lana. This is what noon feels like on the island.” With a wry smile, he stepped away, only to slowly turn back. “I’m going to get reinforcements to see what parts of the bear we can use. Feel free to hang out with the carcass until I get back, but I’d be careful if I were you. Other creatures will smell the blood. We might not be the only predators interested.”
Lana felt her own blood drain from her cheeks.
“I’d guess bear hunting and cleaning wasn’t part of your island training. Mine either.” Paulo’s eyes were understanding. “Good luck on your own, Lana. You’ll need it.”
This time when he left, he didn’t look back.
* * *
The one called Paulo kept walking.
The one called Lana let him go.
The island watched them both, waiting. Slowly inhaling. And then it breathed deeply, as it could only at this hour.
Noon.
Noon brought a surge of strength; it flowed through the island from both sides of the seam. The flash of energy burned bright; the island captured a fraction to keep. No more than a trickle, the bit of electria spilled into the island’s reservoir, and so it would stay. In time, each bit conserved would be sufficient to give the island what it ached for: freedom.
The seam widened a fraction, and like a thread pulled taut, echoes of yesterday’s pain drew the island directly to one it remembered. One it knew well, the one called Charley. Her pain mixed with determination and will, a powerful blend of human emotion so strong the island couldn’t turn away, and for a timeless moment, it absorbed those feelings, plumbing their depths, noting their power. Yes, the island mused, perhaps the island could use her powerful connection with her mate to alter the fabric of the future.
Perhaps it could use her.
She already possessed the information she needed, if she chose to see.
The island waited to see if she would open her eyes.
* * *
“Dr. Bracken.” Charley spoke slowly, her words measured. “We have to do something. I don’t know what, but I can’t just sit here for three months, waiting.”
Skye’s dad sighed. The lines on his forehead seemed to have deepened overnight.
“I understand what you’re saying, Charley, I really do, but there’s a limit to what we can accomplish from here. Simply put, we’re here, and they’re there. The best thing we can do is to be ready for when they return.”
At least Skye’s dad didn’t say if they return.
Charley might have fully lost it then, because she knew Thad would return. Just like she knew that right at this moment, he was safe. She didn’t know how, or why, but she knew that at this moment, his heart beat steady and strong and he wasn’t in danger. Well, she amended to herself, other than the fact that he’s on Nil, which is an awfully dangerous place to be. But he wasn’t in imminent danger at this moment, of that Charley felt certain. Just like she felt certain she’d heard him moments ago.
Keep the faith, he’d told her.
And she would.
Thad, she thought with all her might, I’m not giving up. Not on you, or Rives or Skye. Stay safe. I love you.
Skye’s dad regarded her quietly. “Charley, we need to call your parents. Let them know what’s going on.”
“I’ve already called them,” she said briskly. And they have no clue what’s going on. “I’ve told them we’re traveling with Skye and Rives and you, and I gave them your cell phone number. But…” She paused. “They know nothing of Nil, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“I won’t lie, Charley.” The professor’s voice was stern.
“I’m not asking you to. I’m just asking you to offer as little information as possible. I’m not on Nil; I’m on an island in Micronesia with you, exactly where we told them we would be. We’re taking an extended summer vacation. It’s educational, even. An archaeological expedition.”
Skye’s dad crossed his arms. “How so?”
“Because we’re going to dig into Nil’s past. We’re going to talk to every islander we can find, we’re going to scour that stupid Death Twin and its mate, and we’re going to figure out how to help from our end. There must be a way. And if there is, we’re going to find it. We’re not going to waste one more minute.” Charley sat ramrod straight, her golden eyes blazing. She held up Skye’s uncle’s journal. “And I think I know exactly where to start. Or rather, with whom.” She stared at the professor with calculating eyes. “What do you know about a woman named Rika?”
As the professor’s eyes widened, Charley smiled in triumph.
Thad, she thought fiercely, stay safe. Stay strong. It’s not over yet.
* * *
By the Wall, Thad froze.
Behind him, the ocean’s roar crashed through the trees. Around him, the breeze whispered and giggled and generally screwed with his head. But somehow, in the midst of it all, he’d have sworn he’d just heard Charley.
In his head.
He was furious. Classic Nil, playing tricks. Playing games with his head. Hell, Nil was messing around in his head. First it had flashed Rives’s face on the body wedged in the rocks, now it was mimicking Charley. Thad clenched the knife in his hand so tightly his knuckles went white.
He closed his mind to everything but the here and now.
Charley’s home, Charley’s safe, he reminded himself. Nil loved playing head games, loved pulling the strings, only Nil rigged everything from the start, so Nil always won. But Thad knew that now, and it gave him an advantage.
So did the knowledge that he’d already won, once.
Nil says listen, the breeze crooned, its salty finger stroking his spine.
Not a chance. Thad’s half smile turned cold. I’m no longer playing.
* * *
Time marched on. The seam narrowed, the surge of noon gone. The island had done all it could. The one called Charley knew whom to seek, but the one called Thad refused to listen, an unfortunate choice.
If his mind stayed closed, he would help no one, especially himself.