The Deepest Blue Page 18

  They were still alone.

  “Maybe she escaped, survived the month, and became an heir,” Roe said hopefully. And then her expression twisted. “Or not.” She was staring beyond Mayara. Taking the wad of firemoss from Mayara, she walked up to a grayish crystal. She held up the glowing moss.

  Blurred from the crystal, a face peered out at them, frozen in a scream. Both of them took a step backward. Oh no. The woman, a stranger, had been encased in crystal. Mayara didn’t know how. . . .

  But she did know.

  Spirits.

  Of course spirits. They must have sped up the growth of the crystal, trapping the woman inside. She must have died as it solidified around her.

  Everywhere we go on this nightmare island, there’s more death.

  “Different second camp?” Roe asked, her voice shaking.

  Mayara could only nod.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It was time to forage again. They still hadn’t found a second camp that felt safe enough, which made Mayara nervous, and she was developing too much of a pattern with regard to where and when she harvested coconuts and other supplies, which made her even more nervous.

  After much discussion, they agreed to try foraging at the cove. Roe argued that none of the other trainees would have stayed by the deadly beach, so the spirits would have abandoned it too.

  It’s logical, Mayara thought. She just wasn’t sure that spirits were logical. But continuing to forage in the same place was too dangerous. That much she was sure of.

  “Do you think any of the others are still alive?” Roe asked.

  “I hope so.” At least she hadn’t heard any screams lately.

  Sad that a good day means not hearing anyone die.

  She couldn’t believe she was actually getting used to being here. Not that I want this to be my new home. Suddenly, she missed Kelo with an ache so strong that she forgot to breathe.

  “Mayara? Pay attention,” Roe said.

  “Sorry.” She yanked her mind back to the present. They were side by side at the lip of the cave, peering down at the cove. It looked just as idyllic as it had from the ship: flush with tropical fruit trees, brilliantly colored birds calling to one another, and flowers of every imaginable hue adorning the rocks. Beautiful white sand in a crescent was kissed by the clear turquoise water. It was so clear that even from here, Mayara could see the shimmer of schools of fish. “Can you tell if any spirits are watching the cove?”

  Roe was silent for a moment, her forehead crinkled in concentration. “There are spirits on the ridges, but they aren’t watching the cove.” She pointed toward the cliffs, and Mayara sent her thoughts in that direction. It was a strange sensation, trying to “see” with her mind. The best way she could think of it was like squinting to see something in the dark or straining to hear a distant sound. Or trying to touch a wispy bit of fluff floating in the breeze. She “felt” them, between the trees and out in the waters of the cove, but she couldn’t read their thoughts well enough to know whether they were paying attention to the cove. Roe was better at it.

  “Dart in, grab fallen fruit, and come back,” Roe ordered. “That’s it. Don’t waste time climbing any trees. And don’t go too far. I swear the spirits get more and more agitated every day.”

  She’d noticed that. The spirits had taken to traveling in swarms. She felt their agitation like a continuous itch in the back of her mind. “Yeah, I think they miss killing people. They’re happiest when they’re slaughtering.”

  “Try not to make them happy.”

  Mayara targeted a nearby tree with three fallen coconuts. That’s what they needed most urgently—more liquid. Getting to the streams was too tricky—they were both watched by water spirits. Yesterday one stream had been frozen by an ice spirit who guarded it zealously.

  Ready, Mayara bent her knees. “Bird call, three chirps, if a spirit comes for me.”

  “And you’ll do what exactly?”

  “Run. Really fast.”

  “There’s no cliff to dive off.”

  “Back here then. I’ll hide.”

  “And lead them straight to where we live? And straight to me? You know, you’re really bad at making plans. No offense meant.”

  Mayara tried not to grit her teeth. “Do you have a better idea?”

  “No. I’m just pointing out it’s a serious risk for a few coconuts.”

  “You want to starve?”

  “Hey, I’m not offering solutions. I’m just pointing out problems. It’s my role as lookout.” And then her tone shifted. “I just . . . If you die, I’m alone. I . . . can’t make it alone.”

  “Yes, you can. Your leg is better. You have a place to live. You know where to find food and water. But I’m not going to die. I’m going to be quick. Three coconuts. That’s it. And if it works, then later we’ll try again for more. Okay?”

  Roe flashed a smile at her. “When did you become the optimist?”

  “My family prefers to say ‘reckless.’”

  “Your family underestimates you.”

  “Let’s hope the spirits do too,” Mayara said. “Ready? Now.” She darted out from the hole, scrambled down the hill, and scooped three fallen coconuts into her sling. She then turned to race back before—

  A voice croaked, “Mayara?”

  Mayara stopped. That didn’t sound like a spirit. And no spirit knew her name.

  “Who is it?”

  Silence.

  Then the voice again, cracked and thin. “Help me.”

  Mayara scanned the trees, and she saw a hint of movement. She pivoted, about to run, but Roe hadn’t chirped any warning and Mayara didn’t sense any spirits.

  Glancing up at the ridges, she crept forward. And saw Palia. She was lashed against one of the trees, in the same kind of snare that Mayara had seen before—the kind that had caught Roe when they’d first arrived. The older woman looked as if she’d aged decades more. She was caked with dirt, her hair half shorn off her head and matted with blood.

  Dropping the coconuts, Mayara ran to Palia’s side. Using her glass knife, she began sawing at the vines. “Are you hurt? Can you run? We’ll need to run.”

  “Can’t.” Her lips were so dry and broken that they’d split and bled.

  “What’s injured?”

  “Weak. Too weak.”

  Three bird chirps.

  Spirits are coming!

  Mayara sawed faster.

  “They come to kill me.” Palia closed her eyes. “I’d wondered when . . . they’d . . . come. So long. They didn’t see me. Didn’t know I was there. Or didn’t care. So many days. So thirsty. Do you have water? I would like water. Before I die.”

  “Getting you out of here. Hang on, Palia. Stay awake.”

  Another three chirps.

  Mayara cast her mind out—the spirits were coming down the ridge. She couldn’t tell if they’d seen her, but there were at least a dozen of them, tumbling closer. If they hadn’t seen her yet, they would soon.

  The vines snapped, and Palia slumped forward.

  “You need to try to walk,” Mayara said. “I can’t carry you.” She helped her stand, and they hobbled toward the tunnel. “Don’t use your power—that will draw them faster.”

  Palia stumbled, and Mayara caught her. Arms around her, she helped Palia walk-run. Her breath hissed through her teeth. Mayara didn’t look back. She couldn’t do anything to stop the spirits if they came. She’d have to hope. . . .

  The hole wasn’t far, but getting there felt like an eternity. She’d never felt so exposed. Why hadn’t they been caught yet? She sent her thoughts back toward the spirits—and felt them spinning away. Their thoughts were distant to the touch.

  Roe, she thought. What did you do?

  “Quickly!” Roe whispered. She popped out of the hole to help Palia into it. “We have to get away from here, before they come back.”

  “You shouldn’t have used power!” Mayara said. She thought they’d agreed on that! Run and hide. No power. Nothing to
draw the spirits, not until they were ready to face them or until the month was up.

  “They’d seen you. What was I supposed to do? Watch you die?” Roe helped Palia down into the hole. “Besides, I wasn’t the only one using power.”

  Who else is out there? Mayara wondered. It had to be another of them, but who had survived? And why were they risking themselves by using their power? There wasn’t time to discuss it. “We can’t use this exit again. And we’ll need to hide if they search.”

  They hurried as best they could through the tunnel. Holding firemoss, Roe led the way, while Mayara helped Palia stumble over the uneven ground. Safe in their cave, they shifted rocks to block the tunnel from any spirit that followed.

  The three of them hid motionless and in silence, trying to keep their thoughts as quiet as possible. They heard clicking and scratching from a distance, echoing through the caves. Eventually the sound and feel of the spirits’ search receded.

  Mayara dug into their supplies for angel seaweed, while Roe gave Palia coconut milk. She drank, and it dribbled down her chin.

  “Slowly,” Roe said. “You’ll make yourself sick. Little sips.”

  Palia obeyed.

  Mayara inspected her wounds. Palia was covered in small cuts, one of which was swollen and red. Mayara applied the angel seaweed, squeezing it liberally on the infected cut. “She looks mostly dehydrated. And probably starved as well.” She thought of something. “Roe, what did you mean you weren’t the only one using power?”

  “It was weird—there was resistance, as if the spirits were listening to someone else. Remember how it felt when we were training and Sorka would command them? It was like that.”

  “Someone was trying to help us? Who?” Mayara knew it wasn’t herself, and Palia hadn’t been in any condition to concentrate on anything. Had she? “Did you do it, Palia?”

  No answer. Just a moan.

  Maybe it was one of the other trainees. Someone else was alive! And close enough to see they were in danger and to help them. We have to find whoever it is. . . . We can team up. So far, joining together with Roe had only helped her survive. Sorka had been wrong about that. They were stronger together. If they found this other person . . .

  “That was the odd thing,” Roe said. “I could hear the command. Well, I couldn’t hear the words directly, but I felt it through the thoughts of the spirits—their reaction to it. The other person wasn’t helping us.

  “She was directing the spirits to attack.”

  Mayara whipped her head around to stare at Roe. Her expression, as shadowed as it was in the cave, was serious. “Why would anyone do that?”

  “I don’t know. To send them away from herself maybe?”

  “But that doesn’t make sense. Using power draws attention. You’d be better off just hiding. Unless she’d already been spotted? But we would have felt that, right? Or heard the spirits hunting her?”

  Roe had no answer.

  THEY SAT SILENTLY THEN, TOO EXHAUSTED AND FRIGHTENED TO DO much else. Still, Mayara mused on what Roe had said, even as she continued to treat Palia, who had passed out. After a few hours, the older woman regained consciousness, asking for water. Holding a coconut for her, Mayara asked, “How long were you trapped?”

  “Two days.”

  “Two days and the spirits didn’t kill you?” Roe asked.

  That was very unlike them. Spirits weren’t known for understanding delayed gratification, especially the less intelligent ones.

  “I told you—it was like they didn’t know I was there,” Palia said. “And I didn’t do anything stupid to draw their attention.” She then winced, breathing heavily, and leaned back against the cave wall with her eyes squeezed shut.

  “Rest,” Roe ordered.

  Mayara continued to clean Palia’s wounds, bandaging them with kelp to hold on wads of angel seaweed. Every time Palia woke, Roe fed her more coconut milk.

  When she was well enough, she ate bits of mango that Mayara cut for her. She looks too thin, Mayara thought. She wondered how Palia had stayed alive, tied to a tree, for so long. The spirits should have at least come by to check their traps.

  Unless it wasn’t their trap.

  But who, or what, else would set traps on Akena?

  “What caught you?” Mayara asked, when Palia seemed lucid enough to talk again. “Did a spirit grow the vines, or was the trap already there, waiting for you?”

  “It was a snare,” Palia said. “A simple hunter’s snare. I wasn’t watching for anything left by a human. Just for spirits. I was going to gather fallen coconuts. I’d checked for spirits. All clear. The spirits abandoned the cove after the initial attack.”

  “You’re sure it was left by a human?” Roe asked. “That doesn’t make sense. Who would do that? And why?”

  Mayara thought of the other traps she’d seen and evaded, and the trap that had caught Roe their first day on the island. Those hadn’t seemed like something a spirit would do either, but she hadn’t spent much time thinking about it. “So someone left traps for people, and then someone guided spirits to chase us when I rescued you. Who would do that?”

  “How about someone who wants to be queen? To eliminate the competition?” Roe asked. “Remember there was another woman, other than me, who wanted to be an heir? Do you know if she survived?”

  Palia frowned. “No one would want to kill heirs. Without heirs, all of Belene is vulnerable.”

  Mayara shook her head. “She’s dead. Killed shortly after we arrived—I saw her. Besides, the first snare I found was too far from the cove. It had to have been set before we’d arrived. There’s no way that anyone could have gotten ahead of me and laid it.”

  “The Silent Ones?” Palia suggested.

  “They’re bound by tradition not to interfere with the test,” Roe said. “And why would they want to kill us?”

  Mayara thought of the Silent Ones on the cliff as Kelo screamed. He’s not dead, she reminded herself. At least, I choose to believe he isn’t. “We don’t know what they want.” She had another thought. “What if . . . the Silent Ones might not be acting on their own,” Mayara said slowly, thinking it through. She knew that Roe’s family was kept as hostages so that the Families could control the queen. And she knew if Roe survived the island and became a fully trained heir, Lord Maarte couldn’t touch her. She’d be too powerful. And she’d be protected by the other heirs and all the spirits they could muster. She’d be free to tell the truth. In fact, that was her plan: tell her mother everything, free her grandparents, and expose the Families. “What if it’s you? What if Lord Maarte told the Silent Ones to fix the test so you wouldn’t survive?”

  He wouldn’t care about other collateral. So what if more heirs died? He hadn’t cared if a village’s worth of people died, so long as his power and his fortress were untouched. She could easily see him sacrificing all of them to ensure Roe died.

  Except that seemed like a rather complicated plan. If he wanted Roe dead, why not just kill her while she was in his fortress? And then Mayara understood.

  Because then he couldn’t blame the spirits.

  If Roe died on Akena Island, he was blameless. No one was surprised when an heir died during the test.

  The more she thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. He’d already refused to train her. This was just the next step.

  It was the Silent Ones, guided by Lord Maarte, with the goal of killing Roe.

  “Why would a lord want to kill Roe?” Palia asked.

  Roe was shaking her head. “He had easier ways to kill me. Poison. An ‘accident.’ Plus, remember the last test? All those spirit sisters died too. The test could have been rigged long before my power was discovered.”

  Mayara liked her own theory better. But she wanted to explore Roe’s—it passed the time, if nothing else. And it was helping distract Palia from her injuries. She was looking and sounding more alert than when they’d brought her inside. “You think the Silent Ones . . .”

  “Or just one of
them,” Roe said. “They can’t all be involved. That would mean the queen wants us dead, and that doesn’t make sense. The queen, more than anyone, knows how vital heirs are.”

  “A rogue?” Mayara couldn’t imagine any Silent One disobeying the queen. They chose their fate because it was safer than the island—why would they risk her wrath now? “But why? Lord Maarte at least has motivation.”

  “I don’t know,” Roe said. “Revenge for all they’re forced to give up? Jealousy over all the heirs are allowed to keep? If they survive. It’s not a fair or kind system for anyone.”

  The three of them fell silent, sunk into their own thoughts. Bad enough to face the spirits, but to have someone directing them? Someone with knowledge of who they were? Someone who thought like a human, who wasn’t just acting on instinct like the spirits? The island suddenly felt a whole lot more dangerous. And unfair, Mayara thought.

  We have more enemies than we knew.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The guard had been clear: Kelo wasn’t permitted to see the queen because it would add to her sorrow. So Kelo reasoned, Perhaps I’ll be allowed to see her if I ease it.

  Shutting himself in a dilapidated rented room, Kelo devoted his days to creating an art piece that would ease the queen’s sorrow. It had to be beautiful, the most beautiful piece he’d ever made, fit to capture the queen’s eyes, mind, and heart.

  He started with one of the abalone shells he’d brought, one that Mayara had harvested on her last dive. It was shaped like a bowl and larger than both his fists. Inside were swirls of shimmering green, blue, and purple, which he smoothed and cut into geometric stylized wave-patterns to catch the light, which came together to create a perfect map of the islands of Belene. For the outside, on the mottled, bumpy shell that most considered ugly, he shaved away the imperfections and carefully carved an image of Queen Asana with her arms spread wide—the effect, he hoped, was of the queen cradling all of Belene safely in her arms.

  It was the most detailed work he’d ever done, the most precise and the most unforgiving of mistakes. Once you chipped a bit of shell away, it was gone forever. He didn’t want a single error. It has to be perfect, he thought.