Page 15 of Fire Bird

When I wake, and the dark cave ceiling fills my field of vision, I suddenly and viciously hate it. I hate this place. This hole we’ve been stuck in for days.

I spring to my feet and, by the time I’m on the rocks outside, my shirt is off and I’m diving into the thick, vicious foam beneath the falls. Its furious weight swirls around me, moving my limbs is like trying to move blocks of concrete through a vat of treacle. But I don’t want this to be easy. I need the resistance before the release.

When I finally pull free from the swell, I swim to the center of the lake. I come up for air then dive to her darkest depths. Fragments of light make it past the surface and the reeds, to touch my face. Everything else is dark.

I picture Nova in the water. The way she felt when she was sandwiched between me and Sam, her skin soft and radiant. As I head back to the surface, still dreaming of her, it occurs to me that I’ve never felt so confused in my whole life.

Other peoples’ feelings often complicate my own thoughts, but usually I find a way through. I unpick their essence from my own and manage to see clearly. Now, however, I don’t know what I’m feeling. I’m completely unable to pull what I think and feel apart from what the others are feeling because I have no idea if I’m confident like Sam, terrified like Luther, or somewhere in between like Mack and Kole.

When Luther suggested forming a plan, it seemed sensible. I tried to be objective about it; he wasn’t suggesting Kole was wrong, or that Nova wouldn’t come back; he was just being smart. A backup plan is always a good idea. Right?

Except, it doesn’t feel like a backup plan. As the hours slip by, and she still doesn’t appear in front of us, our hope fades and our fears magnify. Even Sam’s.

Last night, I saw the first flicker of doubt in his eyes. I’m praying it will be gone when he wakes up this morning because, right now, he’s the glue holding us together. His firm belief that Kole was right, and that we will have Nova in our arms again, is giving us the strength to keep breathing.

When I emerge from the water, Sam is there. On the beach. He’s barefoot and standing in the shallow water, letting the cold bite his toes. He raises a hand to wave at me, but waits until I’m within earshot before saying, “Morning.”

“I had to get out of there.” I push my fingers through my hair to shake out some of the moisture, then perform the party trick that impressed Nova so much when we met. Sam watches as the water soaking my clothes and skin disappears. He’s curious but doesn’t ask how I do it.

“You’re not a fan of cave living anymore?” he asks, smiling.

I shake my head. “With Nova here, it was like a cool, sexy camping trip. Without her, it’s…” I search for the right description. “Oppressive.”

“Camping is sexy?” Sam asks, raising an eyebrow.

“It is when it’s mostly-naked, fooling-about-in-the-lake camping,” I reply.

Sam chuckles, then sits down on the sand.

I sit next to him and draw my knees up to my chest. “You okay with Luther’s idea?” I ask eventually because perhaps if I know how Sam feels about it, I’ll be able to decipher how I really feel.

He shrugs and flexes his toes. “I think it’s pointless,” he says. “But also, harmless.”

“Pointless but harmless?” I repeat.

With his index finger, Sam starts to draw circles in the sand. “Nova is coming back to defeat The Shadow King, so it seems pointless us concocting an elaborate plan to do it for her. But I can’t see the harm in it so…”

“So, you’re playing along?” I search his aura. Usually when someone is this steadfast in their opinion, deep down, they’re hiding something. I’ll find a whisper of uncertainty or a nugget of fear. In Sam, I see neither of those things. If his faith wavered last night, it has rebounded tenfold.

“I guess,” he says.

I pick at a loose thread on my jeans. Is Sam in complete denial? Or is he the only one of us who has the guts not to try and prepare himself for the worst?

“I had an idea,” he continues. “We couldn’t figure out how we were going to get into The Hollow, past Eve’s barrier.”

“Luther suggested hitting it with a million spells,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck.

“Last time you tried that, they just bounced back at you,” Sam says. “And then you were captured, and I was murdered.”

“So, you’re saying it didn’t turn out great last time?” My lips curl into a sarcastic smile.

Sam shakes his head. “You could say that.”

“Okay then, oh faithful one, what’s your idea?” I angle myself toward him and wait for an answer.

For several long seconds, Sam stares out at the lake. The trees on the other side seem so far away, and yet I know I could reach them in minutes if I swam out there. Finally, he says, “Kayla.”

“Kayla?” At first, I think I might have heard him wrong.