by Ally Condie
The cafe was full of people—tourists and locals alike. Many had ducked inside to dodge a sudden squall that was blowing through downtown. “Never seen anything like this weather,” a man at the counter said to his wife. They both shook their heads.
Servers were scribbling down Beastburger orders left and right. Bridger’s bearded cameraman was shaking off his windbreaker over by the restroom, smiling like a loon because he’d caught the lightning on film. “Exactly what we needed!” he told anyone who’d listen.
The door bells jangled. Opal spotted Nico and Emma entering and pumped her fist. “Yes. Come on, you guys.” All three shot to their feet. While Logan left cash on the table, Opal wormed through the crowd and snagged Emma by the arm. “You saw, right?”
“The outdoor laser show?” Emma nodded, heaving an anxious breath.
Nico snorted. “I’m pretty sure they saw it in Vancouver.”
“Where can we talk?” Opal said. “I … I’ve got more stuff to tell you all.”
“My house?” Tyler suggested. “My dad’s in Astoria, and my mom and Gabrielle should be at hot yoga by now. My sister drags her there every week.”
“Perfect. Let’s go.”
“Are you sure no one’s here?” Opal asked, sliding into a chair at Tyler’s kitchen table. A stinging rain had chased them the entire way to the Watson household, just north of downtown and one neighborhood over from where Nico lived with his father.
“Positive,” Tyler said, dumping cookies into a bowl. “We’ve got at least an hour. After yoga they always get gelato.”
Emma was busy rooting through Tyler’s fridge, pulling out dips and giving them the smell test. She settled on French Onion, grabbed a bag of chips from the pantry, and then dropped into a seat between Logan and Nico. “So what’s up?”
Nico was eyeing Opal strangely. Logan shoved a Double Stuf Oreo into his mouth.
Opal hitched closer to the table. “You all saw the storm, right?”
“Yes, Opal.” Four voices at once.
She ignored their exasperated tones. “And before that the algae bloom, and also the gas that escaped from the pond.”
“Plus glowing red hail and some wild skies,” Tyler said. “You gonna recap the whole week?”
“Did I miss something while out on location?” Emma said innocently, then flashed a grin. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”
“Oh, not much,” Opal replied. “We found a hidden Torchbearer office in the Custom House.”
“What?” Emma and Logan blurted in unison. Their eyes met. Looking baffled, Logan gestured for Emma to speak first.
“When?” she asked in shock. “How? What was inside?”
“An hour ago,” Opal answered patiently. “There’s a trick flagstone behind the main staircase—I’ll show you later, I promise. We found a room we think the Torchbearers used for meetings, but had to leave right away to avoid getting locked in the building. The good news is, we also found a letter that might help us finally understand some things. Show them, Ty.”
Tyler placed the beat-up envelope on the tabletop. They all stared at the lettering.
IF THE WORST SHOULD HAPPEN.
“Okay, I definitely should’ve come along.” Logan frowned at Opal and Tyler. “Thanks for telling me about this earlier, by the way.”
Tyler gave him a guilty shrug. “Sorry. We didn’t want to explain it all twice.”
“But we haven’t opened it.” Opal was staring at the envelope as if it might bite her. “We were waiting for everyone to be together.”
“And now we are.” Nico rubbed his chin. “Do you think the worst has happened?”
“There aren’t any Torchbearers left,” Emma said. “What could be worse than that?” Rabbit-quick, she grabbed the envelope and tore it open, removing a single sheet of paper from within. “I’ll read it out loud—” Emma paused, noticing the others’ stunned expressions. “What?”
“You ripped open the mystery envelope.” Tyler groaned and covered his face. “I thought you watched scary movies. That never ends well.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Please. Like we weren’t going to open it.” She lifted the page and waved it lightly. “Do you want me to read this or not? It looks like it was written on a typewriter.”
Logan leaned forward and cracked his knuckles. “Do it.”
Opal and Nico both nodded.
“Okay.” Emma cleared her throat. “To the brave soul who opened this letter: If you are reading these words, all Torchbearers are gone, and an unspeakable danger has been left unattended. The end of the world may result.” Emma stopped and licked her lips. “Maybe we shouldn’t have opened it after all.”
“Too late for that!” Tyler spat.
“So there was more than one Torchbearer at a time,” Opal said.
Emma face lit up. “Like us!”
“That explains the secret office in town,” Nico said. “It was their boardroom.”
“Can we get back to the ‘end of the world’ part?” Logan said tensely.
“Wait a second …” Tyler gasped loudly. “Guys! Hold up! We already handled the problem. This letter must be talking about the Darkdeep!”
Nico’s eyes widened. “Could be.” Logan nodded rapidly.
Opal threw up her hands. “How about Emma reads the rest of the message, and we’ll know?”
“Right.” Emma returned to the letter. “The seal on the Rift—that word is capitalized—must be maintained at all costs. Those worthy of the Torchbearer mantle will do what is necessary to prevent catastrophe.”
“You see?” Tyler said. “This Rift it mentions. That’s gotta be the Darkdeep, right?”
“No,” Opal said suddenly, a sick feeling forming in her gut as she recalled earlier words inscribed on slug-covered pages. “In the Index—after the list of Torchbearers—they call the Darkdeep by a different name. You read it too, Ty. Remember? That book called it The Deepness.” Opal swallowed. “The Rift must be something else.”
Tyler’s grin died. “Oh, crap. You’re right.”
Emma snapped her fingers impatiently and began again. “By reading this letter, the responsibility now falls to you. Seek the platform. Tend the seal. Secure the Traveler and maintain the balance! Do not rest until the portal is still. Good luck.” Emma looked up. “Do not fail is printed in capital letters across the bottom.” She flipped the page, but the other side was blank. “That’s it. That’s all there is.”
“What? You can’t be serious!” Logan slammed a fist on the table. “That doesn’t help at all! Man, we never catch a break.”
“Are there, like, instructions?” Opal asked hopefully. “Any hint about what we’re supposed to do?”
Emma shook her head. “Maybe there was another page that got lost.”
“What’s the Traveler?” Nico muttered. Everyone shrugged.
Tyler scrunched his shoulders. “Sounds bad, like everything else that ever happens to us.” Then he moaned in frustration. “This letter assumes we already know how to fix the problem, but we don’t even know what the Rift is. Or what the problem is.”
Nico reached for the wrinkled page. “If the Darkdeep isn’t the Rift, maybe it’s the portal the letter mentions? Does that make sense?”
“Maybe we didn’t really fix it,” Tyler said glumly. “The well might just look calm.”
Opal barely heard. Her heart was pounding. She remembered the seascape picture in the Torchbearers’ secret office. The feeling she’d experienced. Words in her mind that had echoed down to her bones.
Seek the platform, the letter said.
The oil platform in the painting?
Go there, a voice had instructed.
Was it Thing?
The platform. How were they supposed to find it? And when? Right now?
Sure. Steal a boat and head out into a raging electrical storm. Great idea, Opal.
She closed her eyes. If she tried to communicate, could Thing hear her thoughts? Would it answer?
Conc
entrating, Opal sent out a question. Platform? She waited several breathless heartbeats, but felt nothing in response. No voice in her head now, when she’d desperately welcome one.
She pictured Thing, floating in its jar.
What did it know? What could it see?
What was it?
“So let me get this straight,” Logan said, pulling her back to the conversation. He started ticking off fingers. “Sulfuric gas bubbled up through the pond somehow, then a huge algae bloom appeared outside Still Cove, and now there’s more algae by the beach, but it’s a different color. Meanwhile, the sky has gone bananas in like three different ways.” A second finger rose. “At the same time, Opal found a medal that made her think of Fort Bulloch, so we went there and found a plaque with a funky torch next to the name Charles Dixon. That led us to the graveyard and Dixon’s crypt. Inside, Opal found a compass, which fit onto the dock railing, which led to the Custom House, which had a secret Torchbearer office underneath it. That’s where we found this letter.”
A pause.
“Right,” Nico said.
“Don’t forget we’ve got figments on the loose,” Tyler added. “Stupid gremlins running around Razor Point. And, oh by the way, the Beast is real, it tried to eat us for a late-night snack, and there’s a buffoon with cameras in town trying to upload it all to YouTube.”
“This is a mess.” Logan grimaced. “Real talk: I have no idea what we’re supposed to do about any of it.”
“Same,” Emma said miserably. Tyler nodded.
Even Nico looked defeated. “The Freakshow crew are taking a boat to Still Cove in the morning,” he said anxiously. “They’re determined to uncover the Beast’s magical lair.”
Logan popped from his seat. “We can’t let them. Think about what they might find!”
“That’s a problem for tomorrow.”
Opal had spoken quietly, but they all turned to look at her. “Tonight,” she continued, “we’re stealing Bridger’s rental and heading somewhere else.”
Tyler dropped his chin to his chest. “Do what now?”
“You heard me.” Opal locked eyes with each of the others in turn. “I know it sounds crazy, but Thing told me where we need to go. This letter confirmed it. Something terrible is happening, and as Torchbearers we have to step up.”
Silence. Then Nico leaned back and spread his hands. “I’m listening. Please explain.”
Opal paused. Would they believe her? I have to try. “There’s a painting in the Torchbearers’ office, with an oil platform hidden inside the seascape. When I noticed it, Thing spoke in my head as clear as day. It told me to go there.” She closed her eyes briefly, opened them. “So. Do you trust me or not?”
Emma popped to her feet, pulled her jacket down from its peg, and tugged on her ski hat. Then she spun to face the table, arms crossed.
The boys sat in stunned silence. Finally, Tyler’s shoulders sagged. “You want us to commit grand theft boat,” he said in a resigned voice. “With the sheriff already on our backs.”
“Opal,” Logan tried, his voice pleading. “Boating in the ocean at night is super dangerous. And that storm! No one’s crazy enough to go out in this weather.”
“It’s not as dangerous as the end of the world. You read the letter. Can’t you feel it? We’re running out of time!” Opal took a deep breath. “The Darkdeep is only a small part of this, I’m dead certain. There’s more we have to do.” Her eyes found Nico’s. “I need you to believe me.”
Nico was quiet a long moment. Then he spoke in a rough voice. “Okay, Opal. I’ll go with you.”
Opal nearly collapsed in relief. She turned and spoke quickly to Tyler and Logan. “You guys don’t have to come with us. Tyler, your dad’s the freaking harbormaster. He’ll skin you alive if you get caught stealing a boat from his pier. And Logan, you’re already in hot water with the sheriff. I don’t want you getting into more trouble. The three of us can handle this one.”
“No way.” Flushing slightly, Logan pulled his Torchbearer necklace out from under his shirt. “We stick together. Right, Ty?”
Tyler nodded, exhaling through his nose. “We watch the Darkdeep, and watch out for each other. Those weren’t just words. That was an oath. I’m in.”
Opal felt a rush of gratitude. “We can do this, guys. I can get us there.”
Nods. Some were hesitant, but they all backed her plan. They trusted her. That’s what mattered.
Everyone rose and pulled on their cold weather gear. Opal led the group out into the blustery night, trying to project confidence.
This is going to work.
Thing helped us before. It will again.
This was the right choice. The only choice a real Torchbearer could make.
The wind kicked up a notch, swinging her long black braid. Darkness swallowed them as they headed for the docks.
Please please please let that be true.
15
NICO
The boat to steal was obvious.
“I’m guessing … that one,” Emma whispered, stifling a giggle as she pointed.
Nico shook his head. “Does this guy do anything that isn’t over the top?”
Salt-crusted floodlights cast dim pools along the waterfront. Nico was examining an electric-blue eyesore parked in a slip off the main pier, in the tiny marina reserved for private vessels. A flagpole attached to the rear had a giant FREAKSHOW banner hanging from its apex.
“I can see Bridger posing in the bow like George Washington,” Tyler cracked, flipping up the collar of his windbreaker as an icy breeze swept the docks. “Telling Emma to film his good side.”
Opal glanced around like a secret agent before hopping into the boat. “This is one of Sammie’s Speeders.” She reached under the captain’s seat, smiled, and pulled out a pair of keys dangling from a purple rabbit’s foot. “I love small towns.”
“Man, if my dad ever finds out about this …” Shaking his head, Tyler leaped down beside Opal. “Taking a joyride on a speedboat docked in his harbor? Mercy.”
Emma climbed in after him and patted his shoulder. “We’ll get you a new passport and a slush fund.” She glanced up at a line of low, bulbous clouds marching in from the west, oddly lit from within by the full moon lurking somewhere above them. “At least it’s not raining right now.”
Tyler shuddered. “Maybe a fake beard, too.”
“Think anyone will notice the boat is missing?” Nico whispered, eyes roving the darkness as he and Logan untied the lines. They both jumped aboard, and the boat drifted away from the dock.
“No one should,” Emma said. “The Freakshow crew is done for the night, Ty’s dad is gone, and Sammie lives on the other side of town. We’ll be back before anyone has a clue.”
Tyler jabbed a finger at the others. “You know if we get caught, we’ll legit be arrested. This isn’t like toilet-papering somebody’s house. Stealing a boat is the same as stealing a car, and none of us have licenses, either.”
“Who needs one?” Logan shot back. “I’ve been driving my dad’s powerboats since I was eight years old.”
Nico felt the same—like most coastal towns, every kid in Timbers over the age of twelve knew how to pilot a boat—but he understood Tyler’s point. This was a crime. A serious one. “They’re gonna notice the missing gas,” he muttered. “But there’s nothing we can do about that.”
No one had taken the captain’s seat. Nico felt the keys hit him in the chest and caught them as they dropped. He looked up to see Opal’s wide smile. She nodded hopefully.
Nico snorted and sat behind the wheel. “Here goes nothing.” He inserted the key and pressed the starter. The motor coughed to life, making everyone cringe. Tyler gave him a pained look as he flipped on the running lights, and Nico shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, no way to avoid it. We don’t want to hit the rocks.”
They slid away from the marina and into Timbers’ tiny harbor. Within minutes the speedboat cleared the breakwater and they were out in open ocean. �
�Okay,” Nico said, throttling up to gain speed. “You’re sure about the location, Opal?”
Opal was eyeing the sonar, monitoring for hidden sandbars. “According to the satellite map, the platform is just over four miles due west of town, where the ocean shallows up along an underwater ridge.”
Tyler gave Opal a speculative look. “Due west, huh?”
“Yeah, why?”
“When we set the compass into the railing, it lined up exactly with old Timbers buildings in three directions, plus the torch engraving and the Custom House. But due west aimed at nothing but ocean.” He shrugged. “That’s the way we’re headed now. Maybe this oil rig is landmark number five.”
Nico’s eyes widened. “You could be right! Maybe the Torchbearers were keying on it.”
Opal grinned fiercely. “Let’s find out.”
“What do we know about this place?” Logan shouted over the rising wind.
Opal answered him. “According to Wiki, prospectors built the platform in the late 1920s. It’s called Broken Shoals. One day after a bad storm, oil just started gushing up from this fractured little island, and the water surrounding it was shallow enough to run a pipe all the way to shore. Even though it seems way out at sea, the ocean’s no more than six feet deep in that area. We’ll need to be careful with the boat as we get closer.”
Nico nodded. “I do not want to run aground.” He shivered. “I can’t even imagine making that distress call.”
“This was one of the first offshore rigs in history,” Tyler chimed in, staring at his own phone as the speedboat sliced through choppy surf. “Drilling only lasted ten years though, and nobody made an effort to preserve the site. Some company bought it decades ago but never did anything with it.”
The lights of town disappeared behind them. Overhead, the thick cloud wall broke, the moon shimmering in a thin, misty veil that diffused its light and glazed the sea with an otherworldly feel. Rain spattered down in haphazard bursts, but didn’t evolve into a full-blown downpour. The sky rippled with an odd purple-black glow that was visible even in the darkness.
