Nil Unlocked (27 page)

Twelve noon, twelve midnight. One number, with more than one meaning.

What else did the sequence 3-2-1-4 represent?

Maaka knew more than he was telling, that was for damn sure. Because Maaka coughed up his information one painful piece at a time, and sometimes what he didn’t say was the most important. Like the fact that somewhere on Nil a fixed gate waited to take him home.

To take us
all
home, if Skye was right.

I hoped she was right.

What else did she know that she wasn’t telling me?

I glanced at Skye. She was studying the wall, too, arms crossed but relaxed, head tilted slightly to the right. The only thing at odds with her chill demeanor was her hair. She’d lost the twine she’d tied around it earlier. Half-dry, wild curls flew in all directions and fell down her back, knotted and snarled after a few days on Nil. Somehow I sensed its wildness drove her crazy. Something she couldn’t control.

“All right then.” Jillian cleared her throat. I turned back to look at her, wondering why the hell I cared abut Skye’s hair.

The cavern,
I thought.
The belly of the beast
, Johan had said.
The belly of Nil.
And I stood right in it.

With a hard string of silent French expletives, I drove Nil out of my head.

“Why are we here again?” Jillian asked, her eyebrows raised.

“That’s the million-euro question, isn’t it?” Dex murmured, his eyes still glued to the wall.

“We’re here,” I said, “
in this cavern
, because I wanted to see if the three of you had seen any carvings like these anywhere on the island, or in Skye’s case, in her uncle’s journal. Johan feels this place is old and powerful. I agree. These carvings are clues. Maybe they can tell us something to help get us home.”

“Let me guess. Johan stayed for all of five minutes, freaked out, crossed himself, and vowed never to return.” Jillian snorted.

“Pretty much. Except for the vow part. He didn’t stay long enough to make a vow.”

“You know what I see?” Dex jerked a thumb toward the cavern wall. “An awful lot of bloody cats. Sure, you’ve got moons and stars, properly done, and a creepy sun with an eyeball at the center, but bloody hell—have you ever seen so many cats?” He pointed to the letters
N-I-L
running north. “I think we got the name wrong. It should be called Cat Island, or Leopard Land.”

“My uncle called it Giraffe Land,” Skye said. They were the first words she’d spoken in the cavern. She smiled at Dex. “It was the first animal he saw.”

“Better a giraffe than a leopard,” Dex said. He pointed at the base of the wall, where two mangoes sat, untouched. “What’s with the mangoes? Snacks for later?”

“Something like that,” I said. I’d left them for Maaka. A peace offering perhaps, but he never took them. Now I knew why: He’d owe me.

I wished he’d taken one.

I turned to Skye. “Did your uncle mention this place? Or any carvings? Anything that might be important to getting off Nil?”
Anything related to the stationary gate?
my eyes said.

A flash of frustration flicked across Skye’s face like she read my mind, then just as swiftly, her expression melted into Skye calm. She took a long moment to think. “No. He didn’t. He didn’t mention carvings at all.”

Disappointed, I nodded. My eyes never left Skye. Her expression told me she wasn’t lying, but she wasn’t telling the full truth, either. There was more to the journal than she was telling.

Sick of secrets, I turned to Dex and Jillian. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something important. But not here.”
Not in the belly of the beast.
I turned to Skye. “Can you swim?”

“Can I swim?” She looked surprised. “Sure. I’m no medal contender, but I’m not going to drown.”

Her words sliced like ice. Talla had been training for the Olympics when she landed on Nil. Damn this place.

I looked away, unwilling to meet anyone’s eyes. “Good.” My voice sounded flat. Businesslike. “We’re going to go out a different way. That way.” I pointed at the pool; the surface near me was as smooth as glass, letting the rocks show from below. The fastest way to leave was through the water Talla loved so much.

Got it, Nil. Irony not lost, and sure as hell not funny.

Skye was staring at the pool with an odd expression.

“Stick together,” I said crisply. “No straying off.” This last comment made Skye’s chin tilt up.

Good
, I thought, avoiding her eyes.
Keep your edge. And be a team player.
Nil was not the place to be a one-person show. The finale was usually death.

It was time to take my own advice.

“Want to take the mangoes?” Dex asked.

I shook my head. “Leave them. Let’s go.” I dove into the pool, pausing underwater only long enough to make sure all three followed.

Twenty minutes later, the four of us lounged on the sand. On White Beach, just north of the City, the same beach where I’d met Skye.

Full circle,
I thought. Dex and Jillian would hear of the stationary gate on the same Nil ground I did. It felt
right.

“Dex, Jillian, there’s some stuff you need to know,” I said. “That everyone needs to know, but I’m starting with you two, because I trust your judgment and need your advice. Some news is Skye’s, some’s mine. But you need to hear it all.”

With Skye’s help, I detailed her arrival through the stationary gate and the conversation she’d overheard between Maaka and Paulo. Then I outlined all my interactions with Maaka, his silent admission to the gate’s existence, or at least a lack of denial, and finally, Skye’s recent run-in with Paulo.

“Do you have anything to add?” I asked Skye.

She shook her head.

“You sure?” I held her gaze, willing her to give up something.

Her cheeks flushed. I pushed away the visual that they’d flushed when I tipped up her chin, too.

“I’m sure,” she said.

“Fine.” I looked at Dex and Jillian, who were looking between Skye and me with curiosity.

“All right, then,” Dex said. “So we’ve got a gate that pops at midnight and stands there politely waiting for people and chickens and goats to join the party—”

“And cats,” Jillian offered helpfully, biting her lip to contain a smile.

“Right. And cats.” Dex shot her a murderous look, making Jillian laugh and forcing a grin from Dex as he turned back to me. “And we’ve got a pair of inked islanders who packed living snacks and are all secrety-secret about everything and who came here
on bloody purpose
, which is simply mad.”

He glanced at Skye sheepishly. “No offense, Skye.”

“None taken.” She smiled.

Jillian frowned at me. “When are you going to tell everyone, Rives? People deserve to know.”

“They do,” I said. “But right now the Search system is working, and thanks to Charley, it’s working better than ever. I think before we ditch it, we need more info about that gate. Like does this stationary gate come every night? Once a week? Once a month? On a full moon?”

I glanced at Skye. “Was it a full moon that night?”

She looked thoughtful. “I don’t think so.”

I took that as a no.

“But,” she continued, looking at Dex, “there were an awful lot of cats on that Death Twin island, the one that held the stationary gate. I saw at least three, and the island was small.”

“Back to the gate,” I said, annoyed we were discussing cats and not the gate that could potentially get us all off this rock, “is there a limit to how many people it can take? How long does it stay open? And where exactly does it appear?”

“I don’t have answers to any of these questions,” Skye said, “but I remember Paulo counting. He sent the goat through, counted to three, then sent the chicken, then after counting again, he went. So I don’t think there’s a limit, but two things can’t go through together. They have to wait.”

A limitation
, I thought. A twist on the one-gate, one-person rule that we took as a given.

“Anything else you remember?” I kept my tone neutral, even though part of me wanted to snap. Skye doled out info like Maaka: bit by painful bit.

She thought quietly. “Not really. Just that Paulo said he couldn’t leave yet—this was on the first day I’d met him—which makes me think that gates don’t come every night, or even every week. The way he said it made me think he has to wait for a gate, like us.”

Not like us
, I thought.
Not like us at all.

“What if the limit is four?” Jillian asked, frowning. “The limit of how many people that stationary gate can take? Like maybe that’s what the four represents?”

“You forgot the cat,” Dex said drolly. “Five came through Skye’s gate.”

“Oh my God, I did,” Jillian said. She punched Dex’s shoulder lightly. “How could I forget the cat?” She smiled, then squeezed his hand. A long squeeze, almost a hold.

Judging by the slight smile on Dex’s face, he didn’t mind.

I returned my head to the gate.

“So a big question is, how long does the gate stay open?” I glanced at Skye.

“The only ones who know are Paulo and Maaka,” Skye said quietly. Thoughtfully. “We need to know what they know.”

“Ya think?” I asked blandly. “If you recall, that was my plan from day one.”

“Actually, it was my Day Three,” Skye said in the same bland tone. “But in the meantime, I still think we should take a trip to hunt for that gate. To see what we find.”

“No,” I said. “It’s too big a risk. Not until we are sure the City’s safe for one, and for two, not until we know exactly where we’re going.”

“Fine,” Skye said, her cool slipping. “You’re the Leader.”

The
Leader. Not
our
Leader.

It wasn’t until we’d started walking back that it occurred to me that she hadn’t put her name on the Wall.

CHAPTER

38

SKYE

DAY 4, MID-AFTERNOON

Rives kept his distance from me as we walked. He didn’t look at me, didn’t speak.

I couldn’t tell if he was ignoring me or just couldn’t fit a word in around Dex and Jillian, who peppered me with questions about the stationary gate, Paulo, and my dad’s island vision quest. I wondered if Rives had adopted my new “listen first” plan, too.

But the growing gulf between Rives and me changed my plan. The thickness between us refused to be ignored.

Just before we rounded the bend to the Cove, I pulled Rives aside. His skin was no longer Cove-cold, but my fingers tingled where I grabbed his forearm. He stiffened, his eyes darting to my hand on his arm.

I snatched my fingers away.

“Are you upset with me?” I asked. “Did I say something?”

Rives exhaled slowly, his eyes finding mine. “You didn’t say anything, Skye. Not a thing.” He looked at me, in that intense way I was coming to identify with Rives—like there was no one else on the island. Just me and him. “But I wished you had,” he said quietly.

“What does that mean?” I frowned.

“I mean, this place is hard enough without us keeping secrets from each other. You came here knowing more about Nil than anyone, with an inside scoop no one else got. And still, you hold back. I’ll bet there was more to your convo with Paulo, just like I’ll bet there’s more to your uncle’s journal than you’re telling.”

I bristled. “You think I’m hiding secrets?
I’m
the one who found
you
.
I’m
the one who told you about Paulo and the stationary gate.
I’m
the one who told you about my uncle and Charley and my dad. And
I’m
the one who wanted to tell everyone about the stationary gate from the start. But no.” I poked a finger at Rives’s chest. “
You’re
the one who wanted to wait.
You’re
the one who’s been keeping quiet about all your chit-chats with Maaka. If someone’s hiding something, it’s
you
. Not me.”

I crossed my arms and stared at Rives.

A hint of a smile crossed his face, then a wall came slamming down. Invisible. Impenetrable.

“What you see is what you get,” Rives said flatly.

“If you say so,” I said. “But I say you’re the one holding back.” My eyes held his. “I just don’t know why.”

“Everything okay?” Jillian called.

“Fine.” Rives’s voice was clipped.

We walked in silence.

He stopped, turning toward me. “I owe you an apology.” His voice was stiff.

“For what?”

“This morning. When I asked you to stay back. Later I realized you had your sling prepped and ready. Like you could take care of yourself. I was being an ass. I’m sorry.”

Stuck behind his polite wall, Rives’s apology felt strained. Still, it was an apology nonetheless, although I still didn’t understand why he’d gotten so angry.

Then it hit me: worry.

An emotion as powerful as anger, and one that could manifest in the same way. People only worried when they felt a sense of responsibility—or when they felt things spiraling out of control.

Rives was watching me as I studied him, waiting for my response.

“Apology accepted,” I said, my eyes on his. I almost reached out to touch his check, to see if the island had turned him to stone when I wasn’t looking, or maybe I just wanted to brush off the invisible weight making him tense and say
it’s okay,
but I didn’t. The barrier between us was too thick; I couldn’t breach it. Instead, I added, “I was fine. But—being Leader doesn’t mean you have to protect everyone.”

“Doesn’t it?” he shot back, his wall slipping. Fury and frustration and hurt peeked through. “How would you know, Skye? You just got here.”

I wanted to shake him out of this weird funk and into himself. I’d known him all of two days, but Rives was clearly split between roles; Leader, friend, and who knew what else, giving so much of himself, little was left. One person can only take on so much before he breaks.

Is that how my uncle became fearless? To survive Nil and its burdens?