DAY 299, AFTER NOON
Seeing Nat catch that gate had weirded Charley out. I knew her well enough now to distinguish an easy Charley silence from an anguished one, and this silence was anguished. I figured she’d stew until we were alone, then spill.
Charley led us through the red rocks. Hiking through the rubble was no picnic, and I couldn’t wait to hit the black.
Just shy of a massive crack, she stopped. “This is where I found Kevin’s clothes.”
She pulled out Natalie’s shell bracelet and held it tight. Then she dropped it into the deep crevice. The bracelet flashed white, then disappeared. “When I picked up Kevin’s clothes, his bracelet fell into that crack. It just seemed like the two bracelets should be together, you know?” She shrugged. “And now they are.”
The simple goodness of her gesture surprised me, and the rightness of it, too. I realized Charley understood Nil more than I realized, even the dark part.
Especially the dark part.
I slid my hand into hers. “Let’s go.”
When she didn’t move, I asked, “Charley?”
“Thad”—she spoke slowly, like she was thinking out loud—“you said the sister drawing of the Man in the Maze was near the rain forest. Was it carved in black rock?”
“Yeah.”
“And you landed by the base of that mountain?” She pointed to Mount Nil.
“Yeah.” I wondered where Charley was going with these questions.
“Did you see any carvings there?”
“No.”
She looked thoughtful. “But you weren’t looking for one either, right?”
“Right.”
“I want to head that way. Track the black lava field to the mountain and fill out my maps, checking out any large rock formations for carvings along the way. If we ration it, we have food for one more day, and plenty of water. What do y’all say?” Her face dared me to refuse. For his part, Jason looked curious. I think he was just happy to be included.
“Okay,” I agreed. “There’s a cave about ten meters above the mountain base, overlooking the meadow. It’s small but safe. We can crash there tonight. But unless we find food, we have to head back first thing tomorrow.” Watching Charley nod, my gut told me this impromptu trek was about more than just mapping and carvings. Something was eating at her. And maybe more than one thing.
We veered southeast until we intercepted the southern black flow, then turned inland, toward the mountain. The farther east we went, the greater the wildlife. Clumps of trees cropped up. One copse sheltered a nervous giraffe. A pair of wild dogs spooked a rabbit, which was disappointing since I would’ve liked to have caught it for dinner. On the upside, the dogs left us alone.
Every rock formation we passed was just rock. No carvings, noclues. If Charley was disappointed to find nothing but rock, she hid it well. But the black rock tour slowed us down, and as daylight faded, we were well short of the cave.
“Time to stop,” I said reluctantly. “We need firewood and a secure spot, because we won’t make the cave before dark.”
As Jason frowned, I eyed the last clump of black rock. Dropped by the volcano in a rough semicircle, the chest-high rock offered marginal protection from wind and wildlife. Not ideal, but better than nothing.
“There,” I said, pointing.
The mountain loomed over us as we camped for the night. We collected wood, made a fire, and shared a beggar’s dinner of dried fruit and nuts. Then we hunkered down as the stars popped out. Jason took first watch.
Charley and I sat by the fire, close to Jason but out of earshot.
“You’ve been quiet all day,” I said. “I know you’ll miss Natalie, but she made it, eh?”
“It’s not that.” Eyes on the fire, Charley toyed with her shell necklace. Keeping quiet, I didn’t press, and after a long moment, Charley continued. “For a second, I thought it was a triple,” she whispered in a constricted voice. “That a third gate would flash, after Natalie’s. And it would be yours. I’d never considered I might have to say good-bye to you right then. In minutes, not months.” She looked at me, her expression fierce. “I wasn’t ready, not yet. But I promise, the next time noon rolls around, I will be.”
In minutes, not months.
I stared at Charley as her words sank in. Months weren’t long enough. Minutes were a joke.
