Nil Unlocked (26 page)

Jillian was still watching me.

“Jillian,” I said, “there
is
something I want to talk to you about, but give me a few days, okay?”

“No problem. Nil takes some adjustment.” Her smile was warm, making me glad I’d given what little I could.

“Thanks.” I watched Jillian smooth the wet pulp with her hands. “So Thad was Leader before Rives,” I mused, fitting pieces of this Nil together. “How long has Rives been the Leader?”

“Did I hear my name?” Rives walked up, a slight curve to his lips. But his smile ended there; his eyes flicked between us, worried.

“Were your ears burning?” Jillian asked playfully.

“Not my ears. My sixth sense,” Rives said.

Jillian rolled her eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.” She grinned at me. “And Skye, don’t flatter Rives. His head’s big enough.”

Rives clutched his chest. “I’m wounded, Jills. Really.”

“No, you’re not. And you know I love you. So what’s up?”

“Just thought I’d crash your party,” he said casually, his eyes drifting to me. His shoulders stayed tight. “Don’t let me keep you two from finishing your conversation.”

I studied him, fully aware he was pushing to know what we’d talked about.

“Skye was just telling me about Charley. I still can’t believe they met. It’s so surreal. But awesome.” Jillian smiled. “She made it home, and now we know we can, too.”

My eyes caught Rives’s. I gave a slight shake of my head to say
I didn’t tell.

He relaxed, which irritated me.

You don’t trust me?
I thought, pressing my lips together to keep from saying something I’d regret. I almost wished I had told Jillian—almost but not quite, because if I
had
told Jillian, then Rives’s trust in me would’ve been misplaced after all.

Which also irritated me, because I had no clue how long Rives expected me to bear its weight alone.

“Jillian, do you know where Dex is?” Rives asked, oblivious to my internal fuming. “I’ve got something I want you two to see. Skye too.”

“Dex is filling gourds at the Cove,” Jillian said. “Why?”

“Can you take a break?” he asked.

Jillian flicked her hand at the sheet of creamy pulp. “I may as well. This is as good as it’s going to get.” She sighed. “It’s not nearly as smooth as Heesham’s, but hey, whose is? At least Zane got it decently thin.”

No one said anything else. We headed to the Crystal Cove, the silence strained, at least between me and Rives.

It was a relief to get to the Cove. Sure enough, Jillian was right. Dex had just finished filling empty gourds with water from the falls. They floated in the Cove, tethered to a string.

“Excellent timing!” Dex called when he saw us. He tossed us a wave and a grin. “I could use a hand bringing these back.”

Jillian walked into the Cove, and when the water hit waist high, she eased into a smooth breaststroke, swimming toward Dex.

I grabbed Rives’s arm and stepped close, grateful for the roar of the falls. “We’ve got to tell them about the stationary gate,” I whispered, locking my eyes on his. “We can’t keep it a secret forever. It’s not right.”

“Not forever,” Rives said, his light eyes intense. “Just not yet.”

“When?” My voice was sharp.

“Patience, padawan. When the moment is right.” He grinned slightly. Infuriatingly. “Right now, a different secret waits.”

He strode into the Cove without looking back.

This discussion is not over
, I thought, annoyed.

I stepped into the Cove and sucked in a shocked breath. I’d expected the water to be warm, probably because crystal-clear water swirling in a private cove lined with glittering black rocks screamed paradise, and paradise should include a warm pool. But the Cove’s water was
freezing
. It would’ve been nice if Uncle Scott had mentioned the icy water temperature when he’d described the Cove.

I wondered what else his journal left out.

By the falls, Rives spoke in Dex’s ear. Dex nodded, looped the string of gourds to a hitch on the rock, and disappeared under the falls. Jillian followed. I stood there, feeling the arctic water bite my calves as I gathered the strength to go in.

Rives turned back to me, raised one eyebrow, and mouthed, “You coming?”

Without waiting, he dove under the falls too.

I sighed, rubbing my triceps.
Time to freeze.

A hesitant voice behind me said, “Skye?”

I turned around and found myself five feet from Paulo. He looked worse than I remembered. Thin, with shadows under his eyes and cheekbones, all signs of poor eating and even poorer sleeping.

“Paulo?” I walked out of the pool. Paulo backtracked in sync, keeping the distance between us the same. “Did you follow me?”

He ignored my question. “Have you seen Maaka?” he asked.

“Maaka?” I asked, my eyes hard on Paulo’s. “The boy who wanted you to ‘deal with me’?” I made air quotes around the last few words.

Paulo swallowed hard.

“No.” I softened my tone, unwilling to make him feel worse than he already looked. “I haven’t seen Maaka. Why?”

“I think he’s avoiding me,” Paulo admitted.

“I doubt it. Maybe you just haven’t run into him.”

Paulo shook his head. “Maaka only shows himself when he wants to be seen. Which means he doesn’t want to be seen by me.”

I studied his posture, his fidgeting hands. The fact that he was
here.

“You can join the City, you know,” I said softly. “We’ve got plenty of food, and shelter. Decent beds. Even pillows.” I thought of Archie and winced.

Paulo shook his head. “I came to tell you something. There’s a leopard, a big one. It’s prowling around the huts over there.” He pointed toward the City. “This morning, it grabbed a boy in the flowers. I saw it.”

“So did I. I mean, I saw the boy, not the cat.”

Paulo didn’t look surprised, which said he’d seen
me
. “Now that the cat has a taste for human flesh,” he said, “you’re in more danger. It will keep killing. You need to be careful.”

“Thanks.” It took all I had not to shudder. Then I looked at Paulo, trying to reconcile this helpful Paulo with the one I’d first met. “Why are you telling me this?”

“You deserve to know.” He paused. “We’re even now.”

“Even?” I frowned.

He nodded. “You gave me fruit. On my first day here. Now we’re even.”

All I could think was
I never told him about the rhino.

“Thanks, Paulo, but the guava was a gift, freely given. No expectations.” I was parroting Macy’s words, and they felt right. So did telling Paulo about the rest of Nil, because my instincts told me he was less prepared than me, which was crazier than Nil itself. “You should know there’s a black rhino on the island. Rhinos have terrible eyesight, so if you get too close, climb a tree. And there are hippos by the mudflats, so steer clear of them; they can be really dangerous and they charge—”

Paulo was backing away now, hands in the air, eyes wide. “Stop!” he said, stumbling but not slowing. “No more!”

He broke into a run.

I followed. “Paulo, use your brain! Listen to me! The more you know, the safer you’ll be! And stay away from the meadow!”

At the mention of the meadow, he spun around, his eyes narrowing. “What do you know of the meadow?”

“I know a tiger lives there, and he’s scary. And apparently a pair of lions and a hyena. And possibly a giraffe.” I hadn’t seen one, but I hadn’t ruled it out, either. “They have a wicked kick,” I added.

He sighed; his flash of fight was gone. “I can’t give you what you want.”

“I’m not asking for anything,” I said.

“Yes, you are,” he said bluntly. “And you know it.”

“Maybe I am,” I admitted. I stepped closer. “How will you leave the island, Paulo, and when? Where’s the gate that will take you home? The gate that can take us all home? Don’t I deserve to know about that gate too?”

“Skye?” Rives’s strong voice boomed through the trees.

Paulo snapped back around and took off running.

“Crap,” I said, resting my hands on my hips. I didn’t bother to follow. I’d lost the moment. Rives had seen to that.

You pushed too hard,
my conscience scolded.

I circled around, ripping a leaf off a tree in frustration, and came face-to-face with the furious sea god from the ocean I’d met yesterday on the beach.

“Where’d you go?” Rives asked, his voice hard, his eyes unreadable. “We’re all waiting for you while you’re out here gathering leaves. Rude much?”

“Not really,” I snapped. “Sorry to keep you waiting, but I was talking to Paulo. About the stationary gate, which is a conversation Dex and Jillian would be on board with
if you would let me tell them about the darn gate.
And he was just about to answer when you came crashing through the trees like a bull in a china shop. And he ran off. So thank you.” I crossed my arms.

“I barely made a noise”—Rives’s light eyes sparked—“except for your name.”

“Well, since you couldn’t sense Paulo, your sixth sense sure could use some work. Same for your stealth.”

Rives fought a smile. “Sorry.” He looked in the direction that Paulo had fled. “What did he want?”

“To tell me about a leopard. It’s what killed Archie, and apparently it’s staked the City as its territory.”

“And why would he tell you this?”

“Because he felt like he owed me. I gave him fruit on his Day One.”

Rives nodded slowly, like he understood. “Did he say anything else?”

“He said that he thinks Maaka is avoiding him. That Maaka only appears when he wants to be seen, and Paulo hasn’t seen him.” I paused. “I think Paulo followed me and is hanging out near the City. Which means, hopefully, I’ll have the chance to talk to him again.” I couldn’t bring myself to glare at Rives, because I had the sneaky suspicion I’d blown it with Paulo all by myself. I’d pressed and pushed, not my usual style at all.

Was this island changing me already, and not for the better?

Please give me another chance with Paulo. I’ll take it slow; I’ll be patient. Because it’s not about me—it’s about everyone.

I hoped whoever needed to hear me was listening. The thought that I’d blown my only chance with Paulo made me feel awful.

Rives gently tipped up my chin, his green eyes intense. “Skye?” A tingle ran down my jaw. Rives’s fingers were still Cove cold. “What else did he say?”

“Nothing,” I managed. Rives was so
close
, so overwhelming; he filled the space around me with his presence … and he was touching me, so softly I barely felt it—but I was wholly aware of it; his thumb brushed the same place I’d wiped the blood off earlier.

Paulo
, Rives was asking, but all my mind could whisper was
Rives
.

Rives dropped his hand as if he’d been burned, and I stepped back.

I let go of the torn leaf I’d been holding and brushed my hands on my skirt, getting back to business.

“Now,” I said calmly, retying the twine around my hair to give my shaking hands somewhere to go, “don’t you have a secret to show me?”

CHAPTER

37

RIVES

DAY 280, EARLY AFTERNOON

The four of us stood inside the Looking Glass cavern. I was the only one not staring at the carvings.

I stared at Skye.

I still felt the blistering touch of her skin on my fingers. I’d tipped up her chin to make her focus on me, to make her spill the secrets she was hiding.

I’d screwed up big-time.

Skye’s skin had felt electric. Powerful. Like Nil’s lava flowed through her veins, fiery and dangerous.

I wouldn’t touch her again. No more Nil scars for me.

I looked away, aware I was staring.

Nil’s playing games
, I realized.
Using people as pawns.
Maybe Skye hadn’t gotten the jump on Nil after all, maybe Skye was part of Nil’s plan.

Maybe Skye was tapped to mess with me.

How freaking conceited can you get, Rives?
I thought abruptly, totally disgusted with myself. Not to mention Skye had backed away from me like I was the last person she’d want to touch her. Jillian was right. My head was too big. I needed to take myself down a peg, or ten.

Ten.

“Rives?” Jillian’s voice. She was staring at me. I wondered how long she’d been watching.

“Yeah?”

“What are you thinking about?”

“Ten.” I cleared my throat. “The number ten. It’s the sum of the numbers”—I pointed to the numerical sequence 3-2-1-4 at the top of the wall—“here and on the Countdown carving.” Dex and Skye had turned toward me to listen.

“Some people consider ten the perfect number,” I continued. “People use ten as the standard of scoring in sports like surfing or gymnastics—because ten represents perfection. You never hear ‘she’s a perfect nine,’ right?” As Jillian rolled her eyes, I grinned. “Pythagoras—or maybe Plato, my Greek’s getting a little rusty here—believed the number ten was the most powerful and most sacred number, symbolizing the totality of the universe. And for the ancient Mayans, it represented the end of one cycle and the start of another. Birth and death.”

“That sounds like something Macy would say,” Jillian said.

“It was. At least the Mayan part.”

“Let’s hope Macy got the death part wrong, shall we?” Dex said. He stared at the carvings as he spoke. “But she was spot-on about one thing: We all arrive naked as a babe, popped out from a gate.” He shuddered. “Nasty visual, that.”

“Has she seen this place?” Jillian asked. “Macy?”

I nodded. “I brought her down here last week.”

“I bet she loved it,” Jillian said, glancing around the cavern.

“She did.” I remembered how Macy ran her hands over the carvings, smiling, talking, absorbing all the cavern had to offer, and closing her eyes in the light streaming in with the falls. She’d felt the peace of this place, like me.

I studied the number sequence on the wall, the same sequence found on the Countdown carving, the same sequence Maaka had explained this morning. Picturing the Countdown carving, I thought of the number twelve at the top.