by Ally Condie
A smile broke through on Nico’s face.
“Yeah, man. Let’s do it.”
28
OPAL
“So that’s new,” Tyler muttered.
Mist curled up from Still Cove, wraithlike tendrils swirling over the cliffs above the cave, as though a ghostly, limber, writhing forest had grown overnight. Opal reached out to touch a wisp, but it slipped through her fingers.
“Not really.” Logan climbed off his four-wheeler. “There’s always fog near Still Cove.”
Emma shuddered. “Not like this.”
“I wonder if the Darkdeep affects it.” Opal gripped the dagger tightly, pressing its handle into her palm. She was anxious to reach the tunnel, but her nerves danced, electric with warning.
What’s waiting for us?
Massive footprints remained in the grass, but there were no new signs of figments.
“It’s quiet,” Tyler whispered.
“Too quiet,” everyone else said at once. They exchanged glances and chuckled uneasily. Emma turned in a slow 360, scanning the empty field. “They were everywhere last night, and now … nothing.”
Nothing.
The word seemed to echo. The smell of wet stone carried on the breeze.
“What if we’d never brought the quadcopter out here?” Emma wondered aloud.
Nico snorted. “I’d be wearing a radish suit right now.”
“I’d never have experienced the joy of unarmed robbery,” Tyler mused.
“I wouldn’t have gotten to see Godzilla,” Emma said dreamily.
Logan gaped at Emma. “Wait, what?”
Opal grinned. “You missed a few parts.” Opal realized she found it almost impossible to imagine life before the houseboat. Would they have to destroy the Darkdeep? Was that even possible? One step at a time.
“My parents are probably looking for me already,” Tyler said.
Logan sighed. “My dad’s going to notice the ATVs are gone.”
“Right.” Opal straightened her shoulders. “We should get going.”
But no one moved, not even Opal. A strange tension paralyzed her, as if her subconscious mind was rebelling against entering the fog. Then she heard a curious sound.
A slow, methodical clicking echoed up from the cove.
“Guys?” Nico’s voice shook. “You hear that?”
“Sounds like chopsticks,” Tyler hissed. “It’s coming from the path.”
“No.” Opal watched the mist roil. “Not the path. The cliff.”
The fog parted as a giant shape dragged itself over the edge of the bluff. Logan staggered backward in alarm. “What the heck is that?!”
It took Opal’s mind a beat to accept what she was seeing.
Black-brown body. Clacking mandibles. Dark, enormous eyes.
“Oh no,” Emma whispered, her face draining of color.
“A freaking cockroach!” Tyler shouted. “It’s the size of a school bus!”
The insect unfolded its spindly legs and scuttled up onto the field, testing the air with its antennae. Opal stared at its clicking, dripping jaws. She lifted the dagger, but her whole body quivered as she backed away. “Maybe … maybe we let this one disappear on its own.”
The cockroach swung a feeler at Logan. He ducked the oozing appendage and darted toward the ATVs. “Time to go!” he shouted.
“Nico, let’s bail!” Tyler wiped his slick forehead. “I’m not getting eaten by a bug, man. That’s just wrong.”
“No argument here,” Nico said. The three boys converged on the ATVs and took cover behind them. Opal edged their way, waving the dagger. It felt like threatening an elephant with a toothpick.
Emma hadn’t moved. “This is my fault,” she breathed. The cockroach swiveled its massive bulk, slapping a feeler in her direction. She dodged just in time, then ran for the others. The insect chittered in their direction.
“Is this one yours, Emma?” Nico whispered as they huddled behind the vehicles.
Emma nodded robotically. “Roach Motel. The one horror movie I could never finish.”
Opal swallowed, eyes glued to the monster. Its antennae were probing the air again. “Why couldn’t you finish?”
“Why?!” Tyler’s voice cracked. “It’s a giant cockroach! Plus the movie one had poisonous fangs.”
“I’m out of here.” Logan reached over and started his engine. “Who’s coming with me?”
The figment’s head snapped to them. With a grating, grinding hiss, it charged. Everyone scattered, Logan jumping out of the driver’s seat just before the roach smashed into the purring vehicle. The monster flipped the four-wheeler upside down and sunk in its jaws.
Opal sprinted a short way, then stopped to catch her breath. The others joined her in a ragged knot.
“It’s too fast!” Tyler wailed. “We can’t outrun it, and the engine made it mad.” The figment had turned on the other ATV, flipping it on its back as well.
“I’m so sorry, guys.” Emma spoke in a thin, trembling voice. “When I was little I played baseball all the time. One day I went into the garage to get my glove. When I put my hand inside”—she shivered from head to toe—“three roaches crawled out. They ran up my arm and neck. Into my hair. One touched my mouth. Roach Motel was too much. Regular cockroaches are awful enough.”
Opal wrapped an arm around her, shooting a glance at Nico. What should we do?
Nico shook his head. “I told the Sasquatch I was sorry.”
“Forget that,” Tyler growled. “Emma doesn’t owe that thing an apology.”
The giant roach lost interest in the vehicles. It swiveled to face the group, feelers dancing in the air.
The cockroach clicked, rearing up. Something lifted from its back.
“I forgot to tell you,” Emma whispered in despair. “The movie monster can fly.”
The cockroach rose like a storm cloud, blocking out the sun.
Opal lifted the dagger. But before she could do anything, Emma snatched it away and charged toward the figment. “Emma, no!” Nico shouted.
“Stop!” Tyler screamed, as Emma ran directly beneath the hovering figment.
“Fight it, Emma!” Opal yelled in desperation.
The cockroach plummeted from the sky, mandibles clicking. Emma ducked under its jaws and slammed the dagger into its belly.
Opal heard a crunch, followed by a horrible squish. The roach collapsed with a rattling moan, its feelers swinging wildly. Emma scrambled out from between the insect’s massive, flailing legs, covered in yellow bug guts but still holding the dagger. “That was my baseball glove!” she yelled.
She pulled the knife back to strike again.
Before she could, the figment vanished with a popping sound.
Opal nearly collapsed in surprise. Emma dropped the dagger and closed her eyes. Everyone reached her at once, smothering her in their arms.
“Are you hurt?” Opal ran her hands over Emma, hunting for a bite, a wound, a break.
“It didn’t get me.” Emma’s whole body quaked. “That was close, though.”
“Why’d you attack?” Tyler squawked. “These things are dangerous now!”
Emma looked to where the figment had been. “In the movie, right before I quit watching, the roach flew up high and a million tiny roaches exploded from it.” She looked like she might puke. “I did not want that to happen.”
“Wait.” Logan held up a hand. “Did you kill the figment by stabbing it?”
“I don’t know.” Emma eyed the goo-covered dagger on the grass. “Maybe the knife has some kind of power. When it touched the figment, I felt something inside me let go. And we know it’s connected to the island.”
Logan frowned. “But Nico didn’t have it when he beat the Sasquatch.”
Nico held up his hands. “I’m not sure what I did. Or if I did anything at all.”
Tyler’s brow furrowed. “So how do we get rid of the figments?”
No one answered. A cold wind swept the clifftop, chilling Opal’s bon
es.
“This isn’t even close to fun anymore,” Tyler said. “That mega-roach was Emma’s biggest fear in the world. Why would the Darkdeep send that?” He frowned at the fog-shrouded path. “What else is waiting down there?”
Only the Darkdeep knows, Opal thought. Our worst fears come to life.
“Let’s go home,” she said. “Regroup. We don’t have to go down into Still Cove today.”
Fear lingered in Emma’s eyes, in the set of her mouth. But she picked up the dagger and wiped it clean on the grass. Everyone stared at the strange weapon in her hand. Was it the answer?
“No,” Emma said, gripping the knife firmly. “We do it now. Let’s end this while we still can.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned and strode for the trail.
29
NICO
Nico moved cautiously down the cliff-side path.
He couldn’t see far in the cloying fog, which covered them like a damp towel. What else is hiding in this?
The others piled up behind him. “Are we really going inside the tunnel?” Tyler asked. “Not knowing what’s down there?”
“No choice,” Opal said. “That’s where the floor carving is.”
Tyler grunted in displeasure.
They passed the lone owl’s nest like so many times before. But the bird was absent. Driven away by unnatural monsters? Nico hoped not.
The cave was blessedly empty. After a minute of careful surveillance—ears straining to detect any lurkers—Nico activated his phone light. Afraid to lose his nerve, he went straight for the tunnel. At the bottom of the switchbacks he led the group along the passage under the cove to the open chamber. Everyone let out a relieved breath, but this was as far as their plan extended.
“So …” Tyler brushed at his nose. “Now what?”
Nico shrugged. “Any ideas?”
“Search the room.” Opal held the dagger in her phone light. The hand-and-torch symbol gleamed on its odd hilt. “We’re looking for anything like this. Maybe there’s a hiding place.”
“Or a Darkdeep off-switch.” Logan began running his beam along the chamber walls. The others split up and did the same, but after five minutes they were back where they started.
“We’re missing something,” Tyler said. “Something obvious, I bet.”
“Unless it’s just a dumb carving,” Emma mumbled. “Maybe Hale was into chiseling.”
Nico took a knee on the floor. “The torch symbol brought us here, so maybe the carving itself matters. Can I get some more light?” The others clustered above him as Nico ran a hand along the weathered stone creases. His finger paused where the hand and torch met. He scratched at the dirt.
A black oval appeared.
“Oh, man!” Emma did a little dance step. “You found it, Nico!”
“I didn’t find anything yet.” But he wiggled his fingers at Opal excitedly. She handed him the dagger.
Nico slid the hilt into the oval-shaped gap. It fit perfectly, rotating with an easy click. Behind them, a section of wall dropped open. Sour air oozed from beyond.
“You gotta be kidding me.” Tyler gripped his head. “Another secret room?”
Nico flew to the doorway. Beyond was a dark chamber of roughly the same size. The air was stale and tinged with flavors of decay. The walls and floor glowed with strange, sea-green spots. Shining his light, Nico spotted a stack of unlit torches on the ground. An old Zippo lighter rested in a nook above them.
Logan glanced around in confusion. “What’s that glow?”
Nico lifted a torch from the pile. It was covered in a thick layer of mold and grime. He stripped off the foulness as best he could, then flipped open the lighter. The first few spins did nothing, but finally the wheel shot a spark.
Nico ignited the torch and passed it to Opal, then lifted another. Only the top few were salvageable—the rest had dissolved into mounds of slimy black mold. But Nico stuck with it and got three more blazing. Spotting brackets, Opal began setting the torches in the wall. They cast an eerie half-light over the room, creating a spectral feel.
Nico rose. He was desperately curious about who built this place. Who would construct a secret underground room? Someone who wanted to hide something. To protect something.
The room was circular, with grimy rectangles of sailcloth affixed to the wall: black-and-yellow checkerboard, a red diamond, a wide blue cross. Four wooden chests were positioned at the cardinal direction points. A heavy table occupied the center, set with half-melted candles. A pile of rotten papers sat in the middle.
“Those are signal flags.” Emma pointed to the faded canvas emblems on the wall. “Nautical ones. The kind used by old ships to communicate at sea.”
But yellow-green stains covered everything, coating large sections of the table and floor. Nico bent to examine one, then straightened quickly in disgust. “Slugs. Gross.” He looked around. “Oh man, they’re everywhere. That’s why the room is glowing.” Normally he’d be totally freaked out, but after a giant poisonous cockroach, regular slugs seemed manageable.
“Huh?” Logan said. “Because of slugs?”
“Bioluminescence,” Opal explained. “These slugs make their own light. They must’ve gotten in here since Roman Hale died.” She touched a finger to the slime. “Ugh. It’s like glue.”
Tyler waved at the rotten documents on the table. “Whatever this was … it’s ruined.”
Opal moved to one of the chests and pried at the lid. Its hinges groaned but eventually gave way. “Old books,” she reported with a frown. “But the slugs got in here, too.”
Logan and Emma opened two more chests and found the same. Tyler popped the last one. “Whoa. Check this out.” He lifted a slime-covered dagger. “Just like from the warehouse, only no fancy key-hilt.” He rummaged around inside. “There’s a bunch of these bad boys in here.”
Emma grabbed one and raised it in triumph. “This is the answer, you guys! We can fight the figments!”
Tyler began passing daggers out. Logan tried to spin one in his hand, but it clattered to the floor. He swept it back up with a sheepish grin. “No more running, Holland. Imaginary creatures beware!”
“For sure.” But Nico wondered. He knew he should’ve been pumped—Emma had to be right—but something about magical weapons rang false to him. He hadn’t had a special figment-killing dagger when facing the Sasquatch. Maybe I just got lucky there.
Nico set down his knife and approached the table, taking care where he stepped. The same motto from Roman Hale’s stone cylinder was etched into its surface: ACCIPERE VICTUS. The mold seemed to be growing from a single large book. Nico could barely read the spine.
Index of Torchbearers: 1741–
“You guys, come over here.”
Opal looked up, must’ve seen something in his eyes. She hurried to join him. The others did the same. Nico pointed to the slimy, dilapidated book. “I think this was a list of people who watched over the Darkdeep in the past.”
Logan frowned. “Why do you say that?”
Nico pointed to the title. “This sounds like a roster.”
“Open it, Nico,” Tyler said. He made no move to touch the slug-strewn pages himself.
Nose wrinkling, Nico carefully flipped the moldy cover. Half of it fell apart in his fingers. What remained of the first page was a column of names and dates, the oldest entries smudged and fading. Some entries were in elegant script, others crudely scribbled and barely legible. The most recent looked like it had been written in blue ballpoint pen.
“Torchbearer 115.” Emma pointed to the bottom entry. “Roman Hale.”
“The last name in the book,” Opal said quietly. “And look at the signature above his. Clarisse Barquera. It looks way older than Roman’s. I think he was the only Torchbearer for a long time.”
Nico felt his heart squeeze. “The guy probably had an accident. Or maybe a heart attack. He fell into that ravine and died, and there wasn’t another Torchbearer to take his place.”
“No one was guarding the Darkdeep,” Tyler whispered. “Then we showed up.”
Opal nodded grimly. “That’s why the houseboat was empty, and why this room is such a mess. There hasn’t been a caretaker.”
Logan huffed a frustrated sigh. “This is important, but it doesn’t help us. We still don’t know how to stop the Darkdeep now that it’s gone crazy.”
“Not true.” Emma’s jaw firmed in a determined line. “We have daggers now. Figments can’t stand against us. We can regain control of the island.”
Nico met Opal’s eye, saw his uneasiness mirrored there. “You think that’s it?” he asked.
“I’m not sure.” She chewed her bottom lip. “Could be. You saw what happened when Emma used one.” Nico gave a hesitant nod. Could it be that easy?
“That book has more pages,” Logan prodded. “Maybe we should read them?”
Nico shook free of his troubled thoughts. He turned the page, most of it disintegrating in his hand, but he could read the next chapter title. A whistle escaped his lips.
“ ‘Nature of the Deep,’ ” Opal blurted. “Jackpot!”
Nico stared at the slug-smeared words. This book might contain all the answers they’d been searching for, but it was literally falling to pieces.
Tyler nodded at the phrase carved into the table. “Accept to Overcome. I wonder what that’s about.”
The others stared at him in shock. It took Tyler a moment to notice. “What? What’d I do? It’s Latin.”
Emma shoved him with both hands. “Get out. You know Latin?”
“My dad studied it in college,” Tyler said defensively. “He made me learn some. I’m not great at it or anything.” Nico tried to flip forward in the book, but the next few pages were stuck together. Part of the binding came free in his hands. “Stupid slime.”
“It’s completely ruined.” Opal covered her face.
Nico kept leafing the crumbling pages. “This says something about … reading the spirit. Look, here.” He tapped a series of faded lines. “The Deepness … it projects. Or maybe the word is infects. Which, of course, is totally different.” He squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. A slug edged onto his hand and he flung it away with a yelp.
