MID-MORNING
Paulo stood inside the Arches, facing the mountain. It towered over the island like a silent giant. He knew in the deepest part of his soul that he was not alone on the island, even if he was the only human. But surely by now there must be other people.
So why hadn’t he seen them?
Pawns, he thought abruptly. We’re part of a game, pieces to be played. Perhaps he was the only pawn in play, perhaps not. But it mattered little to him. He had no control over others, or the island. But he could control himself.
Or could he?
How long had he been staring at the mountain?
Frustrated, he ripped his gaze away, his thoughts drifting to that last day with Skye. To his failure. His eyes fell, and when they landed, he startled.
Etched into a small flat rock at the base of the smallest arch, Skye’s initials stared at him. S. B. Above the two letters hung the words Search and Look Inside.
He read and reread the words, searching for meaning. Had Skye left this message for him? Had she known he would stay?
What had she known that he didn’t?
He stared at her initials until his neck ached, then he turned away, the rising tide calling him down from the rocks. With ease, he worked his way down the jagged black cliff, not missing a foothold. At the bottom, he paused. The skin on his back prickled as an unseen hand dragged ice down his back.
Run, whispered the sea.
A shimmering gate vaulted into the sky. A wild gate, the kind that still filled Paulo with unease.
He ran. Up the black beach, away from the gate, cutting and swerving as he stayed ahead of the leading edge until the glittering wall collapsed. Finally, it winked out. Gone.
Paulo dropped his hands to his knees, his chest heaving, but his eyes stayed alert as he began counting.
One.
Two.
The air thickened.
I said run. The breaking waves rumbled like laughter. A second gate appeared meters from the demise of the first, shooting skyward, then rolling directly toward him.
No, Paulo thought with force; he was already sprinting. Not today. I’ll go on my own time, of my own free will.
I control me.
A black cat popped its small head out from the scrub brush, ears twitching. Without missing a step, Paulo cut right, grabbed the cat from the bushes, and spun around; he threw the cat directly into the shimmering gate. Rainbows of glittering light washed over the cat. Paulo staggered toward the sea, triumph warming his face as the cat vanished. Let the cat take this wild gate, he thought with pleasure, a ticket to an unknown place. My time has yet to come.
Paulo had business to finish, and the will to see it through.
The gate winked out; the sea breeze kicked up without break.
Noon was over.
Paulo rested his hands on his hips as he tilted his face toward the mountain. Nice try, he thought, a smile pulling at his lips. But I’m still here, still fighting. And I’m not done yet.
* * *
From his vantage point in the trees, Hafthor watched the dark-haired boy with interest. For the past few minutes, the boy had darted and dodged two separate walls of glistening air, walls identical to the one that had captured Hafthor back in Iceland. The boy’s speed and agility were remarkable. Equally remarkable was the expression on the boy’s face: determination, and peace. He had no intention of touching either of those walls, and he hadn’t.
He knows something about this place. Hafthor eyed the boy’s clean white cotton shorts and the tribal tattoo on his bare shoulder. Something important I don’t.
This person was one he needed to meet.
As the boy turned away, Hafthor stepped from the trees.
“Hallo,” he said, lifting his hand in greeting.
The boy swiveled back. He didn’t look the least bit surprised to see him, nor did he gape at Hafthor’s bedraggled palm-frond skirt. Instead, the boy smiled. A kind smile, one that inspired trust.
“I’m Paulo.” The boy walked up and offered his hand.
“Hafthor.”
They clasped hands briefly and let go.
“Tell me of those walls.” Hafthor pointed back to where the shimmering walls had vanished. “They brought us here, yes? But they are dangerous?”
“Yes, and no.” Paulo glanced at the mountain. “Let’s head to the City. I’ll fill you in on the gates and everything else I know. And we’ll get you something more comfortable to wear.” A wry smile twisted his mouth. “Welcome to Nil.”
* * *
The thrill of noon had passed, and the lack of conflict was utterly dull. As the pair turned north, the island turned away. It turned inward, toward the seam, the fissure between worlds, because this world needed more humans. It was time to search for another, one more like the female, Carmen. But until it found the right choice, the island would toy with the one that got away: the female, Skye.
She hadn’t broken yet, a pleasant surprise, for when she did, the pain would be exquisite. The fight itself was proving to be as much fun as the break would be. And the snap of her mind would come; she was so much like her predecessor from years before, a male, Scott. He had thought himself a match for the island.
He had been no match at all.
But this female was different. Special. She fought, hard, with an intensity that was admirable, but in the end, she would bend to the island too. And then she would break.
They all did.
Perhaps she wasn’t special after all, the island thought with disappointment. After all, she was only human.
Abruptly it tired of her.
It wanted to break her, now.