Chapter 16

I crouch next to Evan,searching for something I can rig up to get him back to the boat. There's nothing around but rocks and beachgrass.

"I'm sorry about what you're going through," I tell him. "But there's no way I'm leaving you here."

"Drat," Evan says, with a bitter chuckle. "It was worth a try."

"Evan, what did you mean when you said the island's done this to you? Is this condition some kind of allergic reaction to the plant life here? I'm starting to theorize that there's a species emitting hallucinogenic toxins that make everyone on this island crazy."

What I omit from my theory is the pocketful of petals from a plant I summoned from the earth like a snake charmer. I've got no plausible explanation for that. Plus, I don't want to give him false hope.

Evan shakes his head and chuckles. "It's impossible to explain without telling you more than I'm permitted. But don't worry, it's not contagious."

I frown. "Seriously? That didn't even cross my mind. But what do you mean by permitted? What's going to happen—is that overstuffed sofa of a Coast Guard sergeant going to cuff you and cart you away for interrogation?"

He looks up at me, the smile gone. "I don't know, Rosalie. I'll tell you truthfully, I never expected you to find the salttain. No one's seen it for seven years. But Liam thought you might, for some reason. I wanted to tell him we tried. And, of course, on the off chance we did find some, I figured he'd have a use for it. I can't ever pay him back for all he's done for me."

I chew my lip, the memory of the sweet dewy fragrance of the blooms as they tipped their crowns towards me still fresh in my mind. I plunge my hand into my pocket, half-hoping to find it empty—but the petals brush my fingers, waxy and cool.

Could I have scooped up something else from the ground and imagined the whole episode? Please let that be the case. But yet—if these petals are real, should I keep their existence from Evan?

"You sound like you've given up," I say. "If you're right, and Liam's still alive, what do you think he'd say about that?"

He pulls in a long breath. "I don't care anymore, Rosalie. I'm sick of this pain. Of endless trips to specialists all over the world who've done nothing but make it worse. Liam thinks it's his responsibility to find me a miracle. But this condition, as you call it, has no cure. Soon, I won't be able to hold a paintbrush."

"In this day and age, I can't accept that there's no cure for a skin condition."

"Please," Evan says shakily. "I don't have the energy to debate with you. This is more than a skin condition." He shudders. "It—it's got roots."

I cringe inwardly and wonder if this is the flip side of the bounteous plant life that grows on this island. If dark and horrible things grow here, too.

"Evan," I say, forcing my voice to remain steady. "Is there some kind of dinghy or raft on the boat?"

His dark eyes are large and sad. I want to fold his thin body in my arms, but I'm afraid I'll break something.

"There's a small life raft," he says. "But can you pilot a boat?"

I shrug. "Maybe? Let's worry about getting you there."

Shifting his weight, Evan winces. "If I conk out and somehow you do find some of that plant, don't even think about using it on me. Liam has dug up every berry and root on this island and they only make the crud grow back faster."

Evan's skin is hot and feverish, as if his lesions are infected. After an hour of effort, with every motion an agony for him, I manage to get him into the raft, then paddle us to the boat. But he can't climb up. By now he's only semi-coherent, his eyes fluttering open and closed as he mutters under his breath for Liam.

Damn Liam.Now would be a good time for him to show himself. That is, if he's really alive like Evan believes. He should have at least warned me how sick Evan actually is.

I have no idea what excuses I'll make to Evan's mother about this disastrous trip. But I'll worry about that when we get back.

I contemplate ways to tow the raft back home, or even how to pull it up onto the deck. But as dawn steals over the horizon, a solution still escapes me. Carefully, I peel off Evan's second glove, the one covering the hand he hurt, and stifle a gasp. The skin around the lesions that cover his hand is swollen and red.

People once killed for the salttain. Maybe there really is a reason. That is, if the flowers in my pocket are the real deal.

I fish the petals from my pocket and examine them. Like ghost fingernails, the tiny white cups are iridescent in the dim dawn light. A warm buzz hums through my palm, a subtle softening of my reluctance to believe in the plant's healing powers.

Science isn't only observation, I remember Dad once telling me. It's also intuition. I'll never know unless I try. And with Evan passed out, he'll never know either.

Returning the delicate petals to my pocket, I wade to shore and return with two flat rocks. It feels wrong to destroy such fragile beauty, but I crush them into a sweet-smelling paste anyway.

As the sun climbs higher, I climb into the raft and study Evan's disfigured hand. The paste seems to cancel the unpleasant smell as I carefully apply it with a leaf in a thin layer over the angriest part of the infected skin on his hand and feet.

By now his mother will realize he's not home. Will she think he's tried to harm himself again? Will she call for Randy's Coast Guard goons to sweep the island? I shudder at the thought. After what I saw at the beach party, encountering Randy and his sons is the last thing I need.

In the daylight, the purplish-red skin that rims the grayish growths on the back of Evan's hand looks so much worse. His breaths are quick and shallow, and I begin to wonder how many pills he took earlier. And if I've actually been an accomplice to another one of his attempts to end his life.

This last fear spurs me to action. I'm going to have to get the boat started and tow the raft back to the marina. Right now, my focus is to keep this kid alive.

Reluctantly, I leave him in the raft and climb onto the boat. After a few failed attempts, the engine rumbles to life. I manage to steer us out to sea, hugging the shoreline, continually checking that the raft glides behind us, my heart in my throat. Somehow, I get the hang of navigating the small craft.

The boat cuts through the glistening waves, the sun's heat baking my forehead, my hair blowing free behind me. An occasional fish leaps from the water, but there's no sign of seals in the distance.

My mind wanders back to the carved symbols. I know they were identical to the marks I found near the garden. At least this time I have a picture on my phone Liam can't delete.

Something pale glides alongside the boat, visible beneath the water's surface, and my heart begins to pound. I attempt a closer look, but keeping us from sinking is my first priority. Distracted, I nearly jump out of my seat when the deck creaks behind me.

"Ahoy, matey," Evan says.

In the daylight, his complexion looks less waxen. Limping slightly, he smiles and cradles his gloved hand with the other one.

"How is it?"

"Better. For now," Evan says. "I asked you not to use that plant on me."

"I never said I had any."

"C'mon. I know you found it. I heard you shouting. And I also asked you to keep out of this," he says. "But in truth, you may have saved my life. I took—I took too many of those pain pills."

Rage heats my cheeks hotter than the mid-morning sun. "So, you used me to bring you out here? How could you do that?"

Evan cuts the engine and turns to me. Patches of pink color his pale face. "I don't know if you really understand what just happened out there. It was selfish of me to take you. Selfish of me to think that maybe Liam was right about you. And even worse because he was."

His words hit me like a slap. "How could finding an elusive miracle plant that helps you feel better be a bad thing? Please explain for the clueless Landsider."

Evan closes his eyes. "Because," he says, "there isn't enough salttain weed on this island to cure me, only to stall the inevitable." He pauses, then turns away. "And…because you're a caring person, you'll keep trying to get more. It was unfair of me to put you in that position."

"Evan," I say. "That's faulty logic. Let's, for argument's sake, say I can get more. How can you be so sure it won't help?"

"There wasn't enough of it to help my father, either. And then they murdered him for it."

Shock radiates through me. "So he suffered from this condition, too? Is it hereditary?" I'm about to pepper him with more questions when his phone buzzes. I frown, unsure why he and my father are the only people on this island with a signal.

"I'm sorry, Mother," he says. Across the water I spot a tiny land mass poking through the water's surface. A cluster of seals leap and bound over the waves, as if they're accompanying us.

"Yes, I realize it was poor judgment on my part," he says. "Yes, yes, I know the team from Boston is flying in today. It's just that the sun was so magnificent this morning and I felt the need to take the boat out."

I can't help but notice how smoothly Evan lies. Just like everyone else on Salttain Island. I guess I had him wrong.

"Jeez, Mother," he says. "Did it occur to you that locking me in a glass tomb is not conducive to good health? Maybe if I got my blood circulating more…okay. Yes. I'll be in shortly for breakfast. Yes. Love you, too."

He ends the call, still holding the phone with his injured hand. "We have a powerful booster," he says by way of explanation. "Password protected and monitored by a security firm, or I'd let you pirate the connection."

"Seems your mother is as paranoid as mine. It's fine." I'm about to press him on this when my attention is drawn to the ease with which he holds the phone. "Does your hand bother you at all?"

Evan pulls off the glove. The swelling and redness have diminished, and the lesions have shrunk. "Well, I'll be damned," he says. "No wonder people used to kill over this stuff."

I chew on a nail, my thoughts whirling. "So, we've actually located the miracle plant." I have no plans to tell him how it presented itself to me. "Now what?"

Evan's smile fades, his expression gone hard. "I told you. People really did kill for this stuff. Forget this ever happened."

"Liam wanted me to help you."

"Liam," Evan says, "should focus on helping himself and stop trying to assuage his guilt over me. And you should keep it quiet before the poachers get wind of this. I'm grateful for our adventure—and for the wild night out. But we need to get back. Mother's got this medical SWAT team swooping in to evaluate me. I try to humor her, but after going through the same thing with my dad before he vanished…she's got to know the outcome."

He shrugs. Sadness for him weighs me down. Sadness for Liam's continued absence. For the heaviness that shrouds this island like fog. For the still-aching pain of Tyler's loss. But despite all of it, I feel my own roots spreading in the sandy soil, anchoring me here.

We dock. I walk Evan home, but by the time we get there, his pace has slowed.

"This was too much for you," I say.

"It wasn't even enough." Evan leans over to place a respectful kiss on my cheek. He pulls away, grins, and, leaning on his stick, heads off in the direction of the mansion's back entrance.

I watch his form recede and muse, The plant really did show itself to me.

I've still got no rational way to explain its appearance, but it's reasonable to think there's more where that came from.

And that it will be enough to help him.

An unanswerable question slips into my head.

Did Tyler expect this to happen?

I walk out onto the beach, lower myself onto the sand, and check my phone for the image of the carved glyph, relieved to find it still in my photo gallery.

The sand is damp enough for me to trace the shape of the other symbols I saw and didn't photograph. Drawing their looping forms is soothing, somehow, and comforting.

Finally, I stand, stretch, and peer, yet again, out at the waves, still hoping against hope.

This island, I realize, is unraveling me—unspooling my beliefs. What will be left of my rational self when it's finished?

That's when I realize what I'm doing.

I'm waiting for Liam.

On this island where science has only the most tenuous grip on life, where more than one miracle has already occurred... Why not another?