“Lilac told us the creatures—the whispers—can make you see things that aren’t really there.” Flynn glances from me to the wisp, the gun lowering, though he keeps both hands firmly in place. “And that LaRoux Industries had brought them to Verona.”
My thoughts are spinning, trying to piece together fragments of memory, things I’d long dismissed as childish imagination. I take a step forward and the wisp leaps up, darting away, then pausing—then darting again. “It wants us to follow it,” I gasp. But before I can move again, the wisp is gone, its glow flickering once, then vanishing. “Maybe Lilac was right, maybe they’re trying to help.”
“Unless LaRoux knows we know. If Avon’s wisps have been Lilac’s whispers all along…this could be a trap.” Flynn slowly tucks his gun back into his waistband, and when he speaks again, his voice is shaky. “I’ve caught glimpses of the wisps, but I’ve never seen one so…My cousin Sean said he saw one once, that it tried to lead him away through the swamp, to the east.”
“To the east?” My skin prickles; to the east lies the spot where Flynn’s vanished facility stood. Commander Towers’s words ring in my ears. We find them out there sometimes. Soldiers taken by the Fury. Drowned or buried in quicksand or dead with guns in their hands and bullets in their brains. They go east, into no-man’s-land, if there’s no one nearby to kill when they snap. They’re looking for it. They’re looking for the place.
My eyes are still searching the horizon, afterimages taunting my sight. I keep thinking I see the wisp, only to blink and find darkness. “Flynn,” I say slowly. “You mentioned Lilac—she said not to trust what we see.”
“Right.”
“Well, if these whispers can make you see things that aren’t there, what’s to say they can’t keep you from seeing things that really are there?” I turn away from the black swamp. “Flynn, we walked around that island. We never walked across it. Something kept us to its perimeter, and we never noticed.”
“The facility was never moving.” Flynn’s eyes lift, fixing on mine. “It was there all along, being hidden by the whispers.” For the first time in what feels like centuries, I see a flicker of hope there. It’s like surfacing after a long dive and tasting oxygen again. “Forget the hideout—that’s where we need to go.”
Before I can reply, a distant shout makes us both jerk our heads up. We freeze, listening hard.
There are voices out there in the fog—too far away to be clear, but there’s an unmistakable note of urgency in them. Whoever’s out in the swamp, whether military or rebel, they’ve seen us. And they’ll be coming our way.
I hit the button to retract the gangway and follow Flynn down so we can jump off into the boat. The emergency lights cut off as the door closes, leaving us in utter blackness. Flynn grabs for the oars stashed along each side of the runabout. They won’t work as well as the rebels’ clever poles, but they’ll get us moving without the noise of an engine.
Flynn settles in to row, leaving me free to cover our retreat if necessary. I touch his shoulder to get his attention, since he can’t see my face. “The shuttle’s pointed north, and we’re about half an hour west of the island. Can you find it again in the dark?”
“I can navigate Avon with my eyes closed.” I can hear the smile in his voice. The same arrogance that used to drive me up the wall is now making my own lips twitch. We have a plan, a destination; we’ve got hope.
“Good. Maybe we can lose them in the fog. But if not…”
Flynn reaches up to squeeze my hand. “If not, we just have to hope we find our proof before our people find us.”
There are engines echoing through the swamp, and distant lights, and the splashing of poles and oars—in the dark, without any reference points, it feels like both armies have us surrounded. I let Flynn guide us, trusting his almost supernatural ability to navigate without stars, without compass, without anything except the bond he shares with Avon. His adjustments to our course are quick and sure.
We slip through the reeds in tense silence, waiting. Watching. I keep my hand on my gun, always. Now and then I think I see the wisp, a dim flicker of light out of the corner of my eye, always dancing out of reach, but I can never be sure. My mind is still surging, confused. Fragments of the little girl I was keep surfacing, pulling with them flashes of pain, of happiness, of despair, all the colors in my mind I’ve been ignoring since I was eight years old.
It’s well into the night when the boat finally crunches up against solid ground. Flynn jumps out, landing knee-deep in water, and steadies the boat as I climb after him. We operate in total darkness, not able to risk a flashlight, moving by feel and keeping track of each other by the sounds of our breathing. I hear Flynn turn away to face the center of the island.
“Flynn, wait.” I reach out and touch his shoulder. “LaRoux’s been able to force these creatures to do terrible things. They’re responsible for the Fury. They’re what took over Commander Towers’s mind right in front of me. They’re what sent me to your caves when McBride massacred those people.”