Nil Unlocked (38 page)

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Authors: Lynne Matson

BOOK: Nil Unlocked
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“Right.” The meadow’s grasses swayed in the breeze. It looked peaceful, which meant nothing.

“Skye?” I asked. She hadn’t moved.

“I’m worried about the tiger.” She turned to me. “What if the cats protect the gate? What if they’re drawn to it, and they protect it? I know it sounds weird, but no weirder than anything else here. And my uncle’s journal? The mysterious island angel girl told him to stay away from the meadow.”

“Stay away because of cats, or because it’s near the stationary gate?” I frowned.

“I don’t know. I’ve asked myself the same thing. But the cats. They’re a problem.”

“True. But right now the gate’s closed. So they have nothing to protect, right?”

“Right.” She nodded. But she didn’t move.

“It’s your call, Skye,” I said quietly. “We can go on and look for the place where you landed, or wait for Paulo and Maaka to give up the coordinates. We have time either way.”

Forty-nine days
, my mind whispered.

Tick-tock. My Nil clock.

I waited for Skye to make the call.

 

CHAPTER

55

RIVES

DAY 316, DAWN

“Let’s do it,” she said abruptly.

She starting walking, tacking south toward the mountain.

I followed, hefting Jason’s gear and mine, then signaled to Nikolai to follow.

At Mount Nil’s base, etched into a black rock boulder the size of a Smartcar, the Countdown carving faced the mountain—like the carving at the Arches.
All
the labyrinths faced the mountain, I realized, all the arrows pointed here.

Another Nil piece locked into place.

Skye and Nikolai were looking at me. Looking
to
me, to lead.

“About thirty meters up is a cave,” I said crisply. “A safe house to spend the night if we can’t make it to South Beach by dark. We should follow the grassline, using the trees as defense for as long as we can.”

“I remember rock steps,” Skye said. “Or what felt like rock steps. Let’s look for something like that.”

Staying above the meadow’s grassline, we hiked around the mountain, staying on this side. The backside facing the southern coast oozed lava; it dripped off a hard black shelf into the sea, like molten steel, hissing as it hit the water. On this side, Mount Nil’s slope was more forgiving, which on Nil meant it was still a grueling haul, just not instantly lethal. We chose each step with care, hiking without speaking.

“There!” Skye cried.

Midway up the mountain, rough black steps gouged the mountain’s side like scars, curving away. The primitive steps led to a black rock platform, a smooth swath about half the size of a football goal but just as deep. It butted against a sheer wall that rose into the clouds.

Skye made it to the platform first and crouched near the center. A carving splayed across the ground, cut into the black rock, the gouged lines filled with pure white sand.

“This symbol,” Skye said, kneeling. “The sun, with the eye at its center, and the twelve rays. It was on the ground on the Death Twin island, too, the twin they call Spirit Island. I remember now.” She looked up at me, her eyes light. “And it’s the same sun that’s tattooed on Paulo’s arm.”

And carved in the Cove tunnel
, I thought.
Marking a skeleton’s tomb.

“We did it,” Skye whispered. “The heart of the island. This is where the gate will show. I know it.”

I nodded. It seemed so obvious now. The eye etched in the sun’s center stared back at me. Watching, like the mountain.

Like Nil.

Nikolai bent down. He traced the eye, running his fingers through the sand, mesmerized.

“You know what?” I studied the eye. “We’ve never come up here, because there’s no room to run. But the irony is, if you’re here when the gate comes, you don’t have to run.”

“So now we just need the time of the gate. Noon or midnight. I guess be prepared for both.” Skye looked thoughtful.

“I’m hoping noon,” I said.
Because otherwise I’m toast.

“It would be easier,” she agreed.

If easier means still alive, then yeah.

Saying nothing, I stood beside Skye, studying the carving.

Staring.

The eye didn’t blink. The rays didn’t waver.

Inside the eye, a crescent moon appeared, like I’d stared at a hidden picture long enough for the real image to appear.

I blinked, and the crescent moon vanished.

Nikolai and Skye hadn’t moved.

I was reminded of my first visit to the Looking Glass cavern, when I’d lost time listening to the water falling, waiting for clarity.

How long had the three of us been staring at the rock?

The sun was fire in the sky, falling fast.

“Skye. Nikolai.” Their heads snapped up, eyes unfocused.

“I know we just got here—” I stopped.
Did we?

“Anyway,” I continued, “no gate’s flashing tonight. And we need to check out that cave in daylight and set up camp before nightfall.”

Without discussion, we backtracked down the steps, then trekked up the mountain to the cave, fighting dwindling light.

The shallow cave was empty, save for a pile of wood and a bleached tusk knife. A lucky break.

When Skye went to touch the tusk, I blocked her. “Leave it. We’ll use the wood, but we’ll disturb as little as possible, okay?” I didn’t add that the skeleton in the tunnel had clutched a similar bone tusk, giving the tusk an aura of death.

She withdrew her hand.

I pulled out the thin groundcover and grimaced. I preferred sleeping on soft sand, not brutal rock, and on this rock, the groundcover did almost nothing. South Beach would’ve been safer, but we were bunking here. We needed the tri-wall protection, and we needed rest. It was a Nil necessity.

“I can’t believe Jason’s gone,” Skye murmured. She sat on her satchel, rubbing a small rock between her thumb and forefinger. It glinted shiny black.

“You and me both.” I watched her hands worry the rock.
My rock
, I realized. The one I’d kept from my first day on Nil. The one I’d tossed her in the lava field on the day Paulo fell. My chest tightened that she’d kept it.

Our eyes caught and she smiled.

Nikolai tapped my knee. I turned to find him holding out a large redfruit and a small bleached plank.

I raised the fruit in thanks, cut it with my knife, and shared.

Nikolai nodded as he took a slice. He raised it and grinned.
“Spasibo.”

The spooked deer was gone, replaced by a boy finding comfort in companionship and strength in survival.
Did Nil create his newfound strength, or just push it to the surface?

Another question. No answer.

We added nuts, a mango, and salted fish. Not a bad dinner, considering. Night fell fast and heavy outside the cave; darkness covered the entrance like a blackout shade. We stoked the fire for protection, far enough outside the mouth that we didn’t smoke ourselves out.

Any doubts that the hyenas were still here vanished within the hour. They cackled in the distance, an eerie echo. No noises were close. I took the distance as a positive sign. Maybe Nil would let us sleep. Or at least Skye and Nikolai.

With Skye so close, the thin groundcover was the least of my problems.

She curled beside me, tucked between me and the wall; Nikolai slept against the far side. He was already snoring. I faced away from Skye, but my every sense told me she was there.

“Can I tell you something?” she whispered as darkness fell. Shadows clung to her face, like Nil searching for a way in.

“Anything.” My voice was rough.

“I’m glad you didn’t take that gate today,” she whispered. “That you didn’t leave. I know it’s selfish, that I shouldn’t be glad at all. And I know you could be gone tomorrow. But I’m really, really glad you’re here.”

Here, on Nil?
I wanted to ask.
Or here, in my arms?

I was that man, standing on the edge of a cliff, windmilling my arms to keep from falling.

“Me too.”

A thick moment passed. I teetered, then stepped back.

“Good night, Skye.”

“Good night, Rives.”

 

CHAPTER

56

SKYE

DAY 41, DAWN

I woke beside Rives, close but not touching, and I almost laughed. It was a perfect representation of last night: good, bad, and completely awkward.

I’d spent half the night terrified something would come inside the cave and eat us for dinner. I knew we were decently safe, but it didn’t
feel
safe; it had felt dark and threatening and lethal campout creepy, maybe because the dreaded meadow sprawled below us, out of sight but still fresh in my mind, the same meadow I personally knew was home to a Bengal tiger and that Rives knew was home to a mini pride of lions. Maybe I was claustrophobic; the darkness had felt choking. I missed my hut by the sea with open sides.

The other reason I couldn’t sleep? The sleeping arrangements.

Sure, I was warm enough, tucked between the cave wall and Rives, but the rock ground dug into my bones with a vengeance, and comfort was out of the question. And worse than sleeping on a rock was sleeping beside Rives, our bodies so close I could touch him—and to be honest, at one point when I woke, I was completely embarrassed to find myself snuggling closer because he was so toasty warm—and yet there was a wall between us.

Something I couldn’t see, but I could feel. It was as real as the rock wall at my back.

It was thicker at some times than others, but it was always there, pushing me away. I wondered if it was Talla’s ghost or Nil’s pressures. I wondered if it would ever crack.

Like he’d sensed my thoughts, Rives rolled over and looked at me.

“How’d you sleep?” I whispered.

“Fantastic. I give the cave a solid four-star rating, taking off a star because the mattress was rock hard. You?”

“Awful.”

A smile curved his lips. “Same. Let’s grab Nikolai and roll.”

We folded the piece of cloth that was just enough to keep the sand off our skin and stuffed it in Rives’s bag. There wasn’t anything else to pack. Nikolai stood outside the cave entrance on the ledge, toying with the large curved tusk-that-looked-like-a-knife thing as he looked out over the meadow.

“Morning, Nikolai!” I called.

He turned, smiling. The light behind him flickered, like something had blotted out the sun. I caught a glimpse of gold as Nikolai disappeared with a scream.

A chill streaked down my spine like cold fire.

“Rives?” I whispered.

He was already on his feet, knife in hand, face hard. “Load your sling. I’m ninety-nine percent sure that was a cat.”

My sling was already in my hand; instinct had automatically kicked in. He strode forward as I fumbled for a rock in my bag. My hands shook, making an easy move hard.


Merde
.” Rives’s soft word echoed. He still held his knife out like a shield.

“What’s wrong?”

“He fell,” Rives said, his tone shocked. He walked back to me, his eyes pained. “If I asked you to stay here, would you? It’s safer here, but I need to see if Nikolai needs help.”

I shook my head. “I’m safer with you than in here alone.”

To my surprise, Rives nodded. “You’re right. We should stick together. Is your sling ready?”

I nodded.

“He’s really hurt,” Rives said quietly. “Just wanted to warn you, okay?”

We left the cave and my eyes found Nikolai immediately. He lay at the base of the mountain, unmoving.
Thirty meters,
Rives had said the distance was from base to cave.
How did Nikolai fall thirty meters?
Unbelievable, yet as we picked our footing carefully, I saw how one wrong step could make a person slip.

Dawn on this side of the island wasn’t peaceful.

It was horrible.

Strange sounds, weird silence. The grasses glinted like wet knives and our new friend lay deathly still below us. And the closer we drew, the worse it seemed. Nikolai lay facedown at the edge of the grassline, his arms and legs bent at weird angles, his head twisted to one side. His eyes were closed. I had the awful thought that if he vanished, a chalk outline would appear in his place. I started to shake.

“Hang in there, Skye,” Rives said.

Please move
, I thought frantically, my eyes on Nikolai.
Please be okay
.

I’d chosen to come. My choice. And Nikolai had followed, following
me
.

Rives pressed two fingers against Nikolai’s neck, and the instant Rives’s head dropped in defeat, I knew Nikolai was dead.

How can someone be so alive one minute and dead the next?

I shook my head. “He’s not dead. He can’t be. Maybe he’s just unconscious, like a concussion or something. Maybe he hit his head…” I trailed off when I noticed a red rock on Nikolai’s bare back.

Then I realized it wasn’t a rock; it was the bloody tip of the bone tusk. It protruded from his back, clean through.

I thought I might vomit. My hand flew to my mouth.

“The tusk,” I whispered, swallowing and shaking. “The one from the cave. He fell on it. Is that why he died? How can he be dead?”

Rives gently placed his hands on my cheeks, making my eyes meet his. “Look at me, Skye. It’s going to be okay. But we need to move, now.”

“Move? We can’t leave him! What if he’s not really dead?”

“He’s gone, Skye.” Rives’s face was pained. “He has no pulse.”

I kneeled, wanting to feel for a pulse myself, needing confirmation, but unwilling to touch him.
Coward!
my mind screamed.

Something warm touched my knee.

Blood.

Dark red, it pooled beneath Nikolai, his blood seeping into the ground, his life leaking out, into Nil. I stared at the blood. On the ground, on my knee. Nikolai’s blood flowed as he lay still. It was all so wrong.

Rives knelt beside me. “Skye. We need to go.”

I looked at Rives, seeing the blood, feeling it weighing me to the ground. “We can’t just leave him here! We need to bury him, or do something.”

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