The Deepest Blue(56)

As they crept deeper into the caves, the gray stone began to change. Mica in the rock sparkled as if it were sprayed with diamond dust. It reminded Mayara of dawn light on the sea. And then the gray changed to blue stone, translucent and glowing with a soft blue light of its own. Mayara held the lump of firemoss up to the blue stone. It reflected her face, blurred.

“Still no spirits,” Roe whispered. “Let’s keep going.”

Farther in, the blue tunnel widened into a cavern. White limestone stalactites and stalagmites transformed it into a marvel out of a children’s tale. Mayara felt as if they weren’t in the world anymore. They walked through it in wonder and silence.

On the other side, the cave narrowed and climbed. Soon, light began to flood the tunnel. Mayara tucked the firemoss into her sling. They peeked out and saw below them the cove where they’d first landed. It was still beautiful, lush, and deadly.

She felt Roe touch her arm—two taps.

Two spirits.

Backing up, they retreated, hurrying through the stalactite cave and back through the blue glasslike stone tunnel until they were safely back in their own tiny nook of a cave. They marked their map: they’d found a route from their cave to the cove.

“I feel like we should celebrate,” Roe said. “We explored and didn’t die! Yay!”

“More coconut milk?” Mayara offered.

It tasted extra sweet that night.

FLUSH FROM THE SUCCESS OF NOT DYING THE DAY BEFORE, THEY took a new path the next day and were met with a new wonder: huge pink and black crystals that speared the room, crisscrossing at all angles to create a labyrinth of translucent stone. In the light of firemoss that grew in the walls, the crystals seemed to glow with their own light.

“None of this makes sense—both limestones and crystals?” Roe whispered. “I’ve read geology books; I know how rock formations work. None of this should be here. It’s an island built out of a fossilized skeleton. What would make it like this?”

“Spirits,” Mayara answered. They must have shaped all this beneath the surface of the island, making it as whimsically beautiful as they wished, out of sight of the queen, the heirs, and the Silent Ones.

Like every tunnel in this underground labyrinth, it branched in multiple directions. They chose the left fork first, following it up to a part of the island they’d never seen: a beach thick with greenery that seemed to move as they watched.

Roe whispered, “Do you think they’re hunting someone?”

Yes. Us. And anyone else who’s left. She didn’t answer out loud. Instead she watched as the greenery converged on the shoreline. A wave rose out of the water, bearing a water spirit who held—

Oh, Great Mother, not another of us!

Beside her, Roe leaned forward, squinting.

Hand on her shoulder, Mayara drew her gently back into the tunnel as the spirits within the greenery gave a horrible, gleeful cry. “If it is . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to say what they saw was a body. Maybe it wasn’t. It could have been driftwood or a dead dolphin. “It might be no one. And if it isn’t, she’s beyond our help.” There were too many spirits, and the shore was too far from their cave. With less prey to hunt, the spirits were swarming each new find in far greater numbers.

“It might not be anyone,” Roe agreed. “A trick of the light.”

But the spirits shrieked again, and Mayara knew they were lying to themselves.

“If I order them to—” Roe began.

“No.” She caught Roe’s arm. “You’ll draw them to us.”

“I’ll send them far away, and then you can sneak down and—”

“It’s a terrible plan. If just one of them—”

“I can’t do nothing!”

Mayara shushed her. “Shh. We’re not doing nothing. We’re staying alive.”

“But whoever that is needs—” Roe cut herself off, and Mayara saw her eyes widen. She followed Roe’s gaze to the shore. Four air spirits had lifted the woman—it had to be a woman; she was too far away for Mayara to see her features—into the air. Each held an arm or a leg. “Mayara, they’re going to—”

They flew in four different directions, tearing the woman apart in midair.

Silently, Mayara and Roe backed into the tunnels. They didn’t speak again until they were in their own cave. Slumping against the wall, Roe said, “I won’t hesitate next time.”

“And I won’t stop you,” Mayara promised.

ON THE THIRD DAY OF EXPLORING, THEY FOLLOWED A TUNNEL THAT led to an underground lake, as round as a coin and as black as the night sky. As they skirted the edges of it, Mayara found herself eyeing it, wondering how deep it went and where it led. Did it connect to the sea? But she wasn’t looking for a new dive. She stayed out of the water and kept walking.

A tap on her arm.

She ducked behind one of the boulders. So did Roe.

There was a skittering sound up ahead. It snuffled, and she felt a medium-size earth spirit, not overly intelligent. She felt it was frustrated, though its thoughts weren’t clear enough to identify why. She listened as it lapped at the water and then retreated.

“Forward or back?” Roe whispered.

“Forward, slowly.” They could return the way they came if they had to. It didn’t sound as if the spirit was aware of them. It was lumbering away. Creeping, they followed it up and out of the caves.