Chapter 31

I land on a soft surface,still breathless from the shock of the fall. But I'm fine. Not even a bruise or a scratch.

There's nothing around me but darkness and the dank smell of a cave. And with my phone long gone, I have no artificial light source. I consider trying to make my palms glow, but that would be like sending up a smoke signal to Randy. I'm safe from him down here—for now—but there's no telling what hazards lie before me: a steep drop into a truly bottomless pit, cave creatures, or an endless labyrinth. I may never see the light of day again.

I've got no choice but to trust that the island is guiding me and readying me for an inevitable face-off with Randy—whether my mother prepared me for it or not.

I crawl along, feeling my way. Finally, my vision adjusts to the gloom, and I gasp. I've come to the lip of a precipice. Below me, a waterfall cascades into a shimmering lake ringed by a lush underground forest.

One step farther and I'd have plummeted to my death.

When I quiet my trembling, I spot the narrow ledge that wends its way along the sheer rock wall to the canyon floor. Picking my way down, terrified, I cling to the cliff wall until I reach the bottom, then gape in amazement. Diffused light falls across the springy moss that carpets the ground. Gnarled trees sprout from tangles of twisted roots, outrageously plumed birds cawing in their branches. Clouds float across the cavern's ceiling as if it has its own ecosystem.

I've landed in the middle of an underground rainforest.

Not knowing where else to go, I head toward the lake, my feet sinking into the spongy moss. The jungle thickens until I can't see the clearing behind me or the lake ahead. Above me, interlaced leaves form a canopy that blocks out most of the meager light. Ropy vines drape from tree to tree like leftover party decorations. Glow-in-the-dark mushrooms sprout from the moss, lighting my way. It's beautiful but eerie, especially since I have no idea how to get out of here.

Shakily, I edge my way forward. But my bare foot snags on a root, sending me skidding onto my stomach. My fall dislodges a swath of moss to reveal a smooth rock surface.

Fascinated by the crystalline blue streaks of mineral that vein the black slate like a circulatory system, I pull up more moss and unearth a bigger patch. But when my hands make contact with the rock, the powerful current throws me backward.

The energy stored in the bedrock pulses and throbs around me like heart muscle. Stunned, I take a few moments to catch my breath. It's a heavily warded repository of power, hidden in the belly of the island. Mishandled, this power can probably kill me.

But maybe it can also defend me.

And I'd bet Randy has no idea it's here.

Is he using me to find it?

I'm beginning to understand exactly why he needs the O'Donnells out of the way. With them weakened or dead, there's no one to maintain the wards that block him from full access to the island's hidden secrets.

A matrix shimmers into my mind, more detailed and vivid than anything I experienced in the Garden. I rub my eyes and my normal vision returns, now overlaid by the glowing grid. Swaying before me, rows of salttain plants stand like soldiers at attention.

For the briefest of moments, Tyler's voice is clear among the voices of the other phantoms. There will always be more if you ask. And you will need much more, Rose.

I want to ask him about the strange words his companions spoke, but I've got bigger problems right now. .

"Thank you," I say and close my eyes against the grief. This is the final fate of my once and forever best friend. Tyler's soul is in these plants—guiding me, directing me.

You aren't finished yet.

He's always with me now. Does Tyler know how I feel about Liam? If so, will he accept it?

If not for Randy, Tyler would be alive. Liam and his family would never have been cursed. My father wouldn't be caught in his tangled web. And the Garden would be safe.

I'm done running from Randy Lambert. Once I get out of here, I will find him and confront him.

To avenge Tyler's death.

To keep Liam alive.

To free my father from his clutches.

If defeating Randy is my true purpose, I need to let the island show me how.

My bare feet sink into the plush moss as I leave the salttain field behind. I follow the matrix to the edge of the underground lake, where the water is so clear, I can see down to the craggy bottom. The sloping banks of aqua crystal are carved with glyphs, and lily pads as large as rafts float on its surface.

Strips of daylight sift through the haze, illuminating a speck of land. An island nested inside another island, like a Russian doll. I dip my toe in, knowing that I must. The temperature is warm, so I dive in. The saltwater keeps me buoyant, even as I tire.

I drift to the shore of the tiny island, my raw nerves calmed. A half-sunken skiff is moored to a post.

I'm not the first traveler to come this way.

Can Randy find me here? Somehow, I don't think so.

I climb onto the shore and, in the middle distance, make out the silhouette of a ramshackle stone house choked in a thicket of bushes. On closer inspection, I find the branches heavy with large translucent berries. Quenchers. Famished, I take a chance that they're safe to eat.

Inside the ruined cottage, there's not much to see. It's just a single room in which every inch of stone is scrawled with glyphs—even the floor.

A shaft of light falls on a loose stone slab near my feet. In the hollow space under the floor, I find a wooden box etched with symbols and, wrapped in decaying velvet, yet another key, identical to the other keys in my collection.

Within the box is a slim volume, its leather cover engraved with the same circular symbol on my palms. The pages are filled with familiar handwriting.

But this is not a book about plants. Or fables.

It's Aunt Millie's personal diary, the firsthand account of a girl who was so curious about the snippets of conversation she'd overheard, important things she was certain were being kept from her, that she dropped out of her prestigious medical school and found her way to Salttain Island.

Holy crap. There are even occasional references to her sister—my mother, Alicia Bouchard Gatell.

Now, more than ever, I understand my mother's overprotectiveness. She saw her sister in me, and fearing the same outcome, did everything she could to squelch the inquisitive spirit we shared. I pull in a deep breath to stop my shaking.

There's no guarantee I won't meet the same fate as my aunt. Or worse.

The journal ends the day Millicent sets foot on Salttain.

Horror breaks over me. What if this was Aunt Millie's last refuge, the place she hid from Randy? But why hide this diary here? Did she hope I'd find it one day, and if so, what am I meant to learn from it?

Desperate to discover something—anything—that can help me stop Randy, I run my fingers over every inch of the fragile book. My nails catch on the edge of the back cover, and when I tug, it opens, revealing a compartment beneath. Tucked inside are what must be the missing pages from Legends of the Sea and Land.

My heart breaking for the bold girl my aunt once was, I unfold the crumbling paper to find a story about a girl who falls in love with a storm cloud. Every day she leaves offerings for the cloud, and every day the offering is gone—in its place, a single pearl. The girl makes a necklace of the pearls, hoping the cloud will take her away from her dreary life to someplace better.

One day it leaves her a stone instead of a pearl. On the stone is engraved a series of incomprehensible words.

Nizedha, Yunakti, Invati, Vimukti, Dyati, Hanti

The words Tyler and the phantoms repeated to me over and over in the Garden.

Fingering the yellowed pages, I read on, my heart pounding.

The next day the girl, wearing her pearl necklace and holding the stone in her lap, waits for the cloud to return. When the sky darkens, she speaks the words written on the stone. The cloud lowers, enveloping her, then lifts her away, leaving behind only the necklace. Her family mourns her, and from their tears sprouts a huge tree with leaves the shape and color of the storm cloud.

It's clear my aunt considered these words of the utmost importance…though, without a translation or explanation, I've still got no clue to their meaning or what to do with them.

But now, I have faith I will find out—and know when to use them.

I return Aunt Millie's diary to its hiding place and, after a snack of berries, swim back across the underground river. Once on shore, pass the rows of salttain, waving and undulating like sea anemones. I drop to my knees in reverence. Feeling silly, but also certain, I ask the salttain for its blessing and protection on my return home. One by one, the plants bend to me, each offering a single stalk. I snap off the stalks, tie them into a bundle, and sling it across my back.

Laden with salttain, I retrace my journey to the cliffside path as the vibrations guiding me forward strengthen. If I'm going to escape this underground wonderland, I have to trust them.

I'm lost in my musings when raspy breath heats the back of my neck. Cold steel presses against my throat.

"Funny running into you here, Rosalie," Wade says.