Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
My heart pounds in my ears as I stand, completely frozen, staring in the direction of his voice. Dane is coming this way, and this could be my chance to escape.
But is this the right time?
Different scenarios race through my mind, and I have a split second to decide. I could make a run for it, trudging my way through the marsh as fast as the mud will let me, and hope the girls don’t follow. I could call out to him, which would draw him straight to me and, in turn, straight to them.
Or, I could do nothing.
Something doesn’t sit well in my stomach at the thought of leading Dane straight to Sig, Stassia, and Auralie.
If I got away from them right now, I doubt Dane would believe that I was alone.
If I was, then I would have gone straight back to camp, not wandered around in the mud.
He and Storm or Mara would likely search the area, and it would be a slim chance if they weren’t spotted.
If I call out to him, they definitely would be found, and I don’t know what manner of questioning Dane is willing to do back at camp. I feared for what Weston would do to me as his prisoner, but would Dane be the same to them?
The choice is paralyzing, but I’m running out of time.
The girls have been kind to me, and without ever having genuine friends to compare them to, I can’t discern if they are part of Weston’s trickery.
My problem is with him, and I don’t necessarily want to condemn them to the same fate I just had to endure, or worse.
I could play this game a little longer. Doing nothing would help solidify their trust, and make it easier to leave when the time is right, when I can bring Fin.
If I don’t use the first chance I have to go back to Dane, it could help prove that I am on their side.
They would never expect when the moment comes that I’m not anymore.
I’m still frozen, weighing the decision in my mind when the chance gets taken from me, as Sig clamps her hand over my mouth and drags me into the mud.
Her body covers mine, pushing me down into the muck. She stays silent, holding me firmly, so we stay as still as possible.
I decide then to go with the third choice.
I do nothing.
Weeks ago I would have fought, struggled, tried to roll her off me.
I’d done it enough with Brynne that I knew I could hold my own with Sig, especially now after feeling stronger again and more like myself.
But I don’t fight her. Instead, I wait, peering through the reeds and leaves hiding us, watching to see if we will be discovered.
I hope this is the right decision.
Dane comes into view, and he isn’t alone.
I place the second voice as soon as I see Storm walking beside him.
They carry no torch to light their way, only illuminated by the glare of the moon off of them.
Their voices carry as they get closer, and I strain to hear what they are saying over Sig’s breathing in my ear.
“We have to get her back. We can’t have him turn her against us!” Dane roars.
“Do you really think he can? She’s pretty taken with you. I don’t think she will listen,” Storm says.
“I can’t risk it. We have to find her.”
They take a few steps in silence, and I can see the tension in Dane’s shoulders from where we lay in the reeds.
“Maybe he’ll use her as a bargaining chip,” Storm says, and my breath catches in my throat.
A bargaining chip.
Is that why Weston has been so protective? So he can keep me safe and use me to get what he wants from Dane? He’s told me repeatedly he won’t hurt me, or touch me, that he wants to trust me. Yet he followed me, he captured me, and he imprisoned me.
To use me to bargain for a way home.
“He can try, but he won’t get anything from me.”
My chest swells and warmth washes over my body.
He’s looking for me. He hasn’t given up on me. The Voyagers never seemed to have hope of rescuing previous members who fell victim to the Castaways, but Dane hasn’t given up hope for me. He wants me back, and I hope he knows that I’m trying, too.
“And if he dares to show his face on my island, he won’t make it out alive,” he growls as he rounds the corner, disappearing down the path.
My breath hitches slightly and the warmth I just felt from the realization he is searching for me runs cold. The hatred in Dane’s tone brings me back to the other night, trying to steal my dagger from Weston, contemplating if I could kill someone in cold blood.
Could Dane?
He’d never shown me that side of him before, but now, hearing his words, his voice, I can’t help but picture it.
There was a moment when Sig dragged me down that I thought I made the wrong choice, but now I don’t think I did.
Not only has my action, or inaction, given them something to trust, but I have learned important information about Weston’s motives. It may have shown me a side to Dane I didn’t know was there, but that isn’t a priority right now. I’ll deal with that if I need to.
Weston’s mind games won’t have any hold on me now that I know he’s trying to use me, and that is why he’s keeping me safe. It isn’t out of concern for me, or for my well being. What makes me so special? What else would make him follow me around the island, pull me from the water, and keep me alive?
He needs me to get to Dane.
But Dane won’t let him.
Unlike Weston, I actually trust Dane. I trust him to do what is best for me, and I need to get back to him.
Sig lifts her hand from my mouth and rolls off me, falling onto her back and letting out a loud sigh.
“You didn’t scream,” she says. She stares up at the sky, waiting to hear my explanation.
I shake my head. “No. I didn’t.”
“Why?” She turns her head, and her eyes meet mine. It reminds me of the night back on the beach, when she was searching me for weapons. Her eyes held her apology then, even though her face was covered. Now they are filled with curiosity and doubt, and maybe a little hope.
My lips turn up in a small smirk, even though my insides tumble with uncertainty. “Maybe I do like you three after all.”
A smile lights up her face and she chuckles softly. “See, I knew getting away from him would get your head on straight.” Pushing up from the mud, she sits and looks over her shoulders for Stassia and Auralie.
I push up and rock back to my knees just as I feel something shift under me. My head swivels around as I stare down at the mud surrounding me and watch as it starts moving.
Not moving, sinking.
Oh shit.
“Sig,” I say, trying and failing to hide the panic in my voice. I throw out my arms for balance as the unstable ground threatens to knock me over.
“Fuck! Stass!” Sig hisses out to the darkness, her voice low enough that Dane and Storm wouldn’t have heard.
I try to get onto my feet, yanking my limbs from the sticky muck, but the more I move, the faster I sink.
“Stass! Auralie!” Sig hisses again, the urgency rising in her voice as she slowly starts sinking, her legs disappearing underneath her.
I hear a splash nearby, followed by Stassia whisper yelling, “Oh fuck. Hang on!”
My chest sinks below the surface, and the deeper I go, the harder it is to move. The thickness surrounds me, pressing in and sucking me down. Sig is up to her waist as she tries to lean closer to me. She reaches out for my hands and grips my wrists, squeezing so tight I’m sure I’ll have bruises.
“Do not fucking let go,” she growls.
I nod quickly, the jarring motion only making me sink faster.
If I had been out here, alone, or got caught in this mess when I was searching the island with the Voyagers, I wouldn’t have survived. Now, we have a chance, all because of Weston’s order never to search alone.
I squeeze Sig’s arms back, as tight as she is holding me, and look into her face. The fear I feel is reflected at me, and I squeeze even tighter, hoping she can sense how thankful I am she is here.
Something hits the ground near us, and Sig releases one of my arms.
“Don’t let go!” I squeal. The muck rises up my neck, dripping into my clothes. It’s going so fast now I lean my head back, trying to keep my face above the surface as long as I can. I suck in rapid breaths, but the pressure around my chest is constricting, and I can barely breathe.
“Sig!” My voice is a squeak, the air trapped in my chest as I flail the arm she released around, searching for her other hand.
“Lennox, listen. I’m going to scoop you out. You have to trust me, alright?”
I don’t answer. I can’t. I’ve run out of time. All I can do is gasp in one last breath and trust she has a plan.
Sig releases my other arm and my hands fly free above the surface, fingers grasping the empty air. I slam my eyes and mouth shut as the mud engulfs me, and I can’t stop the panic.
My breath is running out and I can’t feel Sig as my shoulders sink lower, my hands now the only part of me still free above the surface. I try to calm my mind, but I can’t. There’s no air. There’s no Sig. Did she abandon me, even after telling me to trust her? Did she sink just as fast as me?
Somewhere deep inside, I thought after finding the healing waters, the island would have no need to protect them from me anymore. I was wrong. Maybe this is the punishment for being unworthy. Who knew that I could drown without even being in water?
My thoughts grow hazy, and the worry starts to dissipate when I feel something. An arm, wrapping under mine and clasping around my back.
Sig.
She didn’t abandon me.
Pain erupts in my chest as she squeezes tighter than anything I’ve felt before, and suddenly I’m being pulled from both sides; a war between the Castaways and the mud. I move my arms and wrap them around her, holding tight right before my face breaks the surface.
My mouth fills with mud as I suck in a breath, and I splutter, spitting out the sludge, then heaving in air as the rest of my body is yanked from the marsh.
I fall on top of Sig as we’re dragged away from the sinking pit through the pools and reeds. We stop on solid ground and I roll off of Sig, throwing my arms out to my sides, chest heaving and unable to speak.
Stassia collapses to her knees just behind my head, and I look up to see Auralie doubled over, breathing deeply.
A rope lays at their feet, and I follow it, to find it tied under Sig’s arms. One of them must have had it on their belt.
I hadn’t realized they came prepared with anything more than weapons.
Thank the gods they were, because if they hadn’t been, Sig and I would be dead.
I swipe the mud from my face, tossing down large chunks of it onto the ground. My entire body is caked in a thick layer, and I look over to find Sig looks the same, though only from the neck down. She lies on her back, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and she stares at the night sky.
I look between each of them, and say the first thing that comes to my mind.
“Thank you, all of you.”
Just like when the bridge broke with Mara, none of them had to help me, but they did anyway.
Sig threw herself into the sinking mud to save me, when we both easily could have been pulled under if Stassia and Auralie hadn’t gotten to us in time.
They barely know me, and they don’t know I’m plotting against them, but they didn’t hesitate to be there when I needed them.
My chest swells, and my vision blurs with tears that I’m glad are hidden by the darkness and mud.
“Cap is going to fucking kill me,” Sig groans toward the sky.
Stassia walks over and reaches down to her, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. “No, he won’t. If we leave now, we’ll be back before he wakes up. He can’t kill you if he never finds out.”
“I won’t tell,” Auralie says as she rounds Stassia and reaches down to me. I take her hand and pull to stand.
All three of their heads swivel toward me, and I scoff.
“I barely want to talk to him. There’s no way I’ll tell him about this.”
A quiet chorus of laughter fills the space between us, and my chest warms.
This is what friendship feels like.
It’s different than with Brynne and Edmond, or even Fin.
These three saved my life when I’m basically still their enemy.
I know some part of it is because Weston would probably have Sig’s head if his bargaining chip is harmed, but in this moment, conspiring to hide something we endured together from Weston, it feels like more than that.
It feels real, and something deep inside me doesn’t want to lose it.
The laughter in Sig’s expression disappears as her brows draw in and her eyes grow serious again. “We need to get back now. Stay alert. We don’t know how many others are out there.”
We fall back into pairs and hurry through the marsh, back toward the portal.
My mind wars with itself after everything that happened tonight.
My feelings toward Weston and his motives haven’t changed.
Arguably, they are worse than before I set out on the shift tonight, now that I know he is using me.
I still want to get home to Dane, even though I didn’t take the opportunity tonight, and I can’t imagine how he feels looking for me every day.
But I also can’t deny that I’m starting to grow fond of some of the Castaways, who clearly care enough about me to put themselves at risk. How can I turn on them, simply because I have to turn on Weston?
Just before we reach the entrance to the portal, I stop short and quickly reach back to my waistband, feeling around for my dagger.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I feel the hilt, still secure and not sucked into the mud and lost to the island forever.
At least if I have to endure feeling uncertain about some things, I still have the familiarity and comfort of my dagger.
Please gods, don’t let Dawnlin take that away from me too.