Eden (25 page)

Chapter 25: Last Chance

There is a problem of dreamless days.  And a problem of
dreaming the wrong things.  Happy things.

The only appearance an orange makes is cupped gently in
Jonas' fingers, rolling off his palm.  Behind it is his smile.  After that a
river.  And a green world, and laughter, drifting like dandelion seeds, soft,
and slow, and rising again each time it begins to fall.

Oscar sits on a log in a forest, fiddling with his
slingshot.  I watch him from behind—his mop of brown hair and scrawny-kitten
arms.  I can't see his face, and I'm afraid I'll never see his face, and it
hurts—it really hurts—but somehow I'm OK.

I'm walking and looking for something.  It's not a maze. 
It's a path.  There's someone with me.  A friend.  I don't know who she is, but
she says, "You're almost there," and I believe her.

And every time, with the waking disappointment of being
pulled from important dreams, there's the comfort of arms, of being too close
in the too-hot night and not caring.  Jonas sleepily fans my shirt against my
back sending icy chills up my spine and across my sweaty skin.

"It's not fair you get to sleep without your
shirt," I mumble against his chest.

"Mm," he murmurs, his voice thick with sleepiness
and a touch of amusement.  "You don't
have
to sleep with
yours."

"Ha!" I'm suddenly wide awake.  I roll onto my
other side and close my eyes, but I'm so aware of him laying against my back. 
I try to sleep, but I lay there for hours listening to the sound of his deep,
slow breaths.

In the morning, he's gone.  And as the days roll forward,
there are too many nights when he's gone, too.  I sit in bed listening to a
murmur of voices from downstairs.  But now, I don't feel left out.  I've seen
his focus, his determination.  I've seen everything weighing on him, and how
much these ideas mean to him.  Only... I'm not sure I can be part of it.  Sitting
here in the dark, my heart is heavy.  I don't want to disappoint him.

And he's given me space.  I can see him think of it
sometimes, but then he puts it away.  He wants to ask me, but he doesn't.  The
most is this—a sigh and a hand on my ankle.  He doesn't have to speak the
words.  I can see him thinking them. 
We should do it soon.
  And I see
fear in his eyes, too, before he hides it.  So then I'm dwelling on my earlier
words, though at the time they were only a jab at Celine.  What would it feel
like to have a knife slicing through my brain?

Then there's panic.  It's not the knife.  Oscar.  I don't
have time to have my head cut open.  I need to go.  Why haven't I gone yet? 
Where
is Lily's stupid book?  Why am I not dreaming anything useful?  Maybe it's all
a trick to keep me here until it's too late.

Apollon is scarce for a stretch of days.  He invites me to
come with him to visit Coder, but I won't go.

"What are you doing?"

He shrugs.  "Some tests."  He turns his strange
device over and over in his hand, considering it.

"Have you found out anything so far?"

"I've found out that Coder is a nut."

"I could have told you that."

He gives me a wry smile as he leaves.  I take a walk through
Wynwood on my own.  Curious glances seem to follow me wherever I go.  Part of
me wants to engage them—to be the active, charismatic ruler that Jonas is
turning out to be, but then part of me just wants to be alone.  It's the latter
that wins out.

I withdraw to my apartment, with the feelings of solitude
and restlessness warring inside me, consuming me.  I need to do something, but
there's nothing to do.  I'm sitting in the dim glow of the shade-drawn
afternoon, orange clenched in my fist.  And that's it.  I can't wait anymore. 
I can't.

"Last chance, Lily," I say, and I lay down on my
side, orange pressed against my lips, and I close my eyes.

***

I burst through the flap of Apollon's tent, startling Jack,
who knocks the aether lantern over.  Blue light scatters like an exploding star
across the tan canvas walls until Apollon catches the lantern up and rights it.

He scowls at me as he sets his book aside.  "Nice,
Eden.  We could have all been toast."

"It's the island," I say, panting with
excitement.  "I dreamed it."

Apollon squints at me, and sits down on the crate.  "What
did you dream?"

I take a seat on the floor in front of him, trying to calm
myself, but I'm shaking, filled with adrenaline and anticipation.  "There
was water all around me.  I was on these steps."  I close my eyes to see
the images once again.  Jonas' hand cupping the orange.  I reach out and take
it.  Then I'm alone on the steps, and there's water all around me, right up to
the bottom of the steps.  Surely the island isn't
really
like that, but
that's how it is in my dream.  And I know it.  I recognize it.  "It was
weird," I say, opening my eyes again.  "But it's the island.  We have
to go."

Apollon gives me a look and says flatly, "You mean
now."

"Of course I mean now." I lean forward with
eagerness.  "The sooner we find this book, the sooner we can leave."

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face.  "Have you
talked to Jonas about it?"

My hands fly to the sides of my face, pressing against a
sudden headache.  "No," I admit, feeling a pressure rising in my
chest.  "I will.  I... I'm just waiting for the right time."

"Do you want me to talk to him?"

I shake my head.  "I'll do it.  Soon.  I will." 
I'm climbing to my feet.  "Let's go."

"Eden..." Apollon says.  There is a reluctance in
his voice.

I turn back, frowning.

"How are we even going to get to this island?"

"Hunh."  I put my hands on my hips, thinking. 
"I don't know."

"Me either."

We consider each other.

"Fuck."  I pinch the bridge of my nose, closing my
eyes.  Water is not exactly my specialty.  After a moment I give Apollon a
hopeful smile.  "Build a raft?"

He shakes his head, laughing.  "OK, you know that this
is an
ocean
, not a river, right?"

Again, my hands go to my hair, this time pulling.  I drop
them and pace outside into the darkening night.  Surely there's a simple
answer.  People go to the island all the time, right?

Apollon steps out behind me.  "There have to be boats
somewhere."

"Do you know how to use a boat?"

He shrugs.  "It can't be that much different than a
raft, right?"

"Haven't you read any good ocean stories?"

"Do pirates count?"

We frown at each other.

I sigh, tapping my fingers on my hip.  "I'm going to
ask Celine."

"Really?"

"Do you think it's a bad idea?"

"Do you trust her?"

"Do
I
trust her? 
You're
the one who's
going to make babies with her!"

"Not even funny," he says, grabbing me by the arm
and marching me off into the night.  "If this goes badly, you can't blame
me for it.  It was your idea."

"Fine," I say, pulling my arm free.  "Just
let me do the talking."

"You usually do."

"What does
that
mean?"

"Nothing."  He tosses me a grin, his teeth
glinting in the moonlight.

***

Apollon knocks on Celine's door.  When she opens it, she
snags him by the shirt and pulls him into a passionate kiss.  As he
half-heartedly scrambles to free himself, I clear my throat. 

She breaks away and notices me standing behind him. 
"Oh," she says, offering a not-so-apologetic smile.  She waves us
through the door.

Her apartment is not large, but it's luxuriously done up
with pillows and rugs on the floor in all sorts of fine and exotic fabrics. 
She flops down, resting her elbow on a big, fluffy pillow.  "What's
up?"

We sit by her on the floor, and I can't help but run my
fingers over the colorful pattern on the rug.

"You got me that," she says.  "For my
birthday."

My fingers linger over the finely-woven threads. 
"Oh."

Apollon clears his throat.

I take a deep breath and consider Celine.  Lounging like a
cat, she considers me back.  "Do you really want to help me?" I ask.

One eyebrow goes up.

"Do you want me to find Lily's book?"

She tips her head sideways, considering.  "Yes,"
she says softly.  "I do."

I nod, my fingers still playing on the carpet.  "Can
you get me to that island?"

She sits up straighter now, blinking.  "The
island?"

"Yes, the island."

Her mouth opens, then closes.

"The next clue is on the island," I say, as if
saying it again will push her forward.  "I need a boat.  I'm ready to go. 
Now.  But we need a boat."

Suddenly snapping out of whatever it is, she waves her hand
in the air, smiling.  "We'll go tomorrow."

"I'd rather go tonight."

"Tomorrow," she says easily, and though her
dismissal is annoying, there's something in her smile that calms me. 
"We're going tomorrow, anyway."

"What?" Apollon and I say at the same time.

"It's Freefall."

My eyes scan over the carpet.  Yes, it has been about a
month since Apollon and I trekked into the No Man's to find the alligator. 
It’s party-time again.  But the island?  "Why?"  I ask.  "How? 
I thought we didn't go to the island."

She shrugs.  "Not lately," she says.  "Not
when
they're
there.  But they're not going.  We heard it a few days
ago."

Apollon and I exchange glances.

"Why not?" he asks.

She makes a noise.  "Does it matter?  We get to go. 
And it will be safe tomorrow.  Much safer than if we went now.  And Freefall is
always best on Dodge Island.  Everyone's terribly excited.  You'll see."

Apollon and I share another look and sigh.

"OK," I say, climbing to my feet.  Part of me
wants to argue, but I know it's pointless.  One more day.  I can do that.

As I head for the door, Apollon starts to climb to his feet,
but Celine has him by the shirt again.  "Not you," she says. 
"I'm keeping you."

I glance over my shoulder to see Apollon's obliging grin,
and shut the door quietly behind me.

***

The day fades into afternoon, and there is a buzz, a feeling
of excitement over Wynwood.  Jonas smiles and nods and looks the part as
everyone rushes to finish the day's work before getting to the evening
celebration.  But he's tense.  Uneasy.  I don't know if anyone else sees it,
but it's plain to me.

"Are you worried about tonight?" I ask softly,
squeezing his arm as we stand at the edge of the terrace, watching a group of
people below hauling what looks like a crate of bottles.

He glances at me.  "No."

"Liar."

"I'm fine," he insists, and offers a warm smile
that could be very convincing.

I sigh and smile back.  "Good."

But when I get a moment with Jack and Apollon, I confide in
them.  "I think Jonas is worried about tonight.  I mean, I guess it's
going to be a little weird with the other tribes there.  But it's supposed to
be safe, right?"

Apollon and Jack exchange a glance.

"It can't be too bad."  I feel like I'm trying to
talk myself into it.  "The black star tribes aren't going."

Apollon frowns at me.  "They're going."

"What?"

"It's
Brickell
that's not going.  Idiot."

I blink and wipe a hand over my face.  That's right.  We're
not avoiding our enemies.  We're avoiding the ceasefire guys.  "When is
any of this going to make sense?" I mutter.  "Are they going to hunt
me down and kill me?"

Apollon pats me comfortingly on the shoulder.  "If that
was the case, Celine wouldn't let you get anywhere near the island.  Freefall
has a sort of code.  Remember?"

I nod, staring into space.  Miami does seem to be good at
following the rules during these things.  No one bothered me at the Return, and
all the tribes were there.  What was happening that day on the bridge was more
important to them, and it would stand to reason that Freefall is somewhat the
same.  Why would they bother me now?  But I have to believe that Apollon's
right.  That Celine wouldn't let me place myself in danger. I swallow my doubts
as we move through the evening.

Eventually, after darkness falls, Wynwood becomes part of a
massive migration toward the sea.  This time, it's no solemn procession, but a
bubbling, laughing, wild swing of a jog through Edgewater.  They're our closest
allies, and we're on good terms, so apparently they don't mind—at least not
tonight. 

There are small motorboats along the beach.  We load into
them and shove off into the water.  Our boat is packed with our inner circle. 
Me, Jonas, Apollon, Jack, Spec, Kobee, Celine, Moses, Harlan, and Dingle.  More
of the council is loaded into a boat directly behind ours.  Celine and I sit
toward the back, and she offers me a smile, grabbing my hand in the dark.  I
squeeze her fingers and smile back, trying to be half as excited as everyone
else, but something about this journey fills me with trepidation.  I'm still a
little worried about the black star tribes, but I'm also worried about the next
phase of this quest.  I feel like I'm leading up to something, and I'm afraid
of what it is.  I have too many questions, and I'm torn in too many
directions.  What if Lily's book changes things?  I can't abandon Oscar.  No. 
I won't.  No matter what happens, I need to go after him.

It's time to tell Jonas.  To convince him.  I glance toward
him, standing at the front of the boat with Spec.  Reservations are written all
over his face.  Spec's hand clasps his shoulder—a comforting gesture.  Yes, Spec
sees his anxiety, too.  Jonas' muscles are taut, his jaw clamped.  He glances
back at me, and quickly away when he sees I'm looking at him.  He sighs and
swallows and looks out over the water.