The Deepest Blue(53)

Why, though?

And . . . can we somehow use that to our advantage?

She felt an air spirit within the island, in the middle of what should be rock. She tracked it as it swam out of the caves and through the reef toward the kelp forest to join in the search.

It had exited the caves only a few yards away from where she hid. I could swim there.

But then what? What if the tunnel never came up to the surface? What if it was completely flooded? Yet the spirit she’d felt had been an air spirit, she reminded herself. As far as she knew, they needed to breathe.

It was a risk. But staying here isn’t—it’s certain death. And I can’t go out there.

She made the decision. And committed to it. Exhaling fully, Mayara drew in air, preparing as she would for a deep dive, then propelled herself down.

Mayara swam smoothly, careful not to disturb the water, keeping her senses open and her mind clear. Blue surrounded her. She aimed for the darkest of blues: toward the base of the cliff, where she’d felt the air spirit emerge.

Ahead, there was a break in the rocks, laced with bits of seaweed that waved gently in the current. Mayara swam through it, flinching slightly when she brushed past the seaweed, remembering the last time she’d encountered kelp, but she pushed on, and she left the clear glow of sunlight behind her.

An eerie kind of deep blue wavered around her. Only a little light filtered into the cave. She didn’t feel any spirits nearby. A few fish darted around her, streaks of silver. A jellyfish that looked like an iridescent flower drifted by.

The peacefulness of a deep dive settled into her, and she felt calm as she swam through the tunnel. Ahead, she saw a hint of more light. She swam toward it and then emerged. And breathed.

She was in a cavern. Light streamed through a hole high above her. The cave walls glistened and sparkled blue and green. Swimming to the side, she pulled herself up onto a rock and panted. Near as she could tell, she was alone.

And not dead. That part’s important.

For several minutes, Mayara thought about nothing else. She just breathed.

And then her brain started to work again. Not only were there caves by the shore, but the entirety of Akena Island seemed to be laced with caves and tunnels. The spirits used them. With a thrill, she thought, So can we.

When she had rested enough, she began the climb up toward the light. The cave wall was nearly vertical, but it was rough enough to grip. She focused on not slipping. Reaching the hole, she hesitated, feeling for any spirits.

She felt a clump of them to the north. But none were here.

Climbing out, Mayara flopped onto the grass in the sunlight. Allowing herself only a few seconds to rest, she concentrated on slowing her breathing and her rapidly beating heart. She was exposed now and couldn’t afford to stay out in the open. As tired as she was, she had to move. Mayara forced herself to stand. She spared an extra second to smear a handful of suka berries on the entrance of the cavern, marking it so she could find it again, and then she picked her way over the rocks. She was just above where the mess had all started, near the coconut grove not far from her and Roe’s cave.

She didn’t sense any spirits in the grove now, at least as far as she could tell. They were all out at sea, searching for her. She made her way across the sand between the trees and picked up the fabric loop she’d used to climb. She also stored the fallen coconuts in her sash. She did not look up at the cliffs, tried not to imagine Nissala’s body pinned by the stone that the spirits had used to kill her.

Carefully, she crept down to the shore.

She felt prickles on her back and neck as she made her way across the rocks and then into the cave, but nothing attacked. And when she crawled deeper, Roe was waiting for her.

“Lots of spirits out there,” Roe whispered.

Mayara unloaded the coconuts and then collapsed against the wall of the cave. Feeling the stone against her back, she again thought of Nissala. “Maybe staying hidden for a while would be a good idea.”

MAYARA SHARED WHAT SHE’D LEARNED ABOUT THE CAVES AS SHE hacked a hole in one of the coconuts. Roe, though, didn’t seem at all surprised. “I think you’re right. While you were going for a refreshing swim—”

“Ha, very funny,” Mayara muttered, then shuddered. Nissala’s fate could so easily have been hers.

“—I did a little exploring. Our cave goes back. Far back.”

“How far?” Mayara peered into the darkness. She’d checked several yards in to make sure they weren’t sleeping with a nest of spirits, but when the cave had narrowed, she’d assumed it ended.

“I just said ‘far back’ in a deliberately vague way. No idea. I crawled as far as I could, but the dark was, well, very dark.”

“You shouldn’t have been crawling around alone and injured to begin with.”

“I told you: I hate feeling helpless. I don’t want to hide here for a month, waiting until it’s our turn to scream until we die. I won’t do it. If I can’t leave the cave, then I’ll go deeper in.”

“Fine.” She wished Roe didn’t have this need to be a hero. Just staying alive was heroic enough for Mayara. But there was no guarantee they’d be safe here—it did make sense to see if they could find an alternate exit to their hidey-hole, in case they needed one. “We’ll explore together. After you’ve healed more. I’ll try to find some firemoss—”