CAPITOLO 21

«You okay?» he asks.I nod. «More or less.»I ignore the tension clinging to my muscles and rise to my feet. Beyond the glass, the water’s surface is clear, a deep blue that reflects a sky unblemished by clouds. A small rocky islet—little more than a jagged outcrop—lies ahead, wrapped in the silence of a sea that seems never to have known a storm. I glance at the coordinates on the screen. I’m still groggy, and perhaps that’s why the data flows unfiltered into my mind. Latitude and longitude place us somewhere off the coast of the Argentario.Through the porthole, the tiny island where we've docked is draped in Mediterranean scrub—a wild tangle of mastic, myrtle, and juniper clawing up the rocks like gnarled fingers. Here and there, pale tufts of heather and rockrose break the dense green. Windswept maritime pines twist into sculpted shapes, their roots clinging desperately to the barren earth.The hatch opens with a hiss. A warm, briny breeze curls inside, carrying away the submarine’s oppressive air. For a brief moment, I breathe deeply, letting the resinous scent of wild rosemary and sea lavender fill my lungs.It could be a refuge.It could seem like a peaceful corner of the world, far from everything.But it isn’t.The illusion of calm is just that—an illusion, a trap woven by the deceptive beauty of this place. Like life: one moment it cradles you, the next it betrays you.«Never trust the calm after a storm,» I murmur to myself.Behind me, Savannah snorts. «Getting poetic now, are we?»«I can say it better,» Hermes chuckles. «Ah, the quiet before the catastrophe. How I adore it.»I ignore them both and jump down, my soles hitting the damp stone. The sun refracts on the still waves, scattering tiny shards of light across the shallow water that laps at the shore. For a moment, I close my eyes and listen.The wind whispers through the branches. The sea brushes against the cliffs with unnatural gentleness.Too perfect. Too quiet.I hear the others disembark one by one. Emanuele lands beside me with his usual effortless grace. Yaku adjusts the spear on his back with an automatic motion, while Calipso drags herself out of the submarine, her face still marked by fatigue and wounds.«So?» Yaku asks, eyeing the islet with a critical gaze. «What now?»«We explore the island,» I decide. «We need to find a way to reach the mainland.»Emanuele pauses next to me, his gaze lost on the horizon. So much has changed between us since he was just another boy in my high school. But this—this feels different. Deeper. As if we now stand light-years apart.Yet I don’t want it to stay that way. I’ve accepted too many things passively in the past, beginning with my father’s death. That part of me is gone. If these past weeks have taught me anything, it’s that I need to take hold of my life—however messy it may be.«Will you come with me?» I ask.He smiles and nods. «I was afraid you wouldn’t ask.»

The air is warm and thick with the sea’s salt, as we make our way across the island. The terrain is uneven, scattered with jagged rocks and clumps of wild rosemary swaying in the breeze. The twisted pines cast long shadows on the dry earth, while dense clusters of myrtle and mastic force us to alter our path more than once.«I suppose I owe you some answers.» Emanuele’s voice is calm, but there’s a tension beneath it.I duck under a low branch. «You don’t owe me anything. I know now that you’ve lived many lives. That’s enough.»He places a hand on my arm. «Lilia, I know this isn’t easy. I’m not easy. But I swear, it’s over between Hermes and me.»«Not for him.» I glance at him, catching a flicker in his eyes—something he isn’t saying aloud.He sighs. «It’ll pass. He’s just marking his territory.»«I hope that’s all it is.»It feels ridiculous to be thinking about personal drama now, in the midst of all this. And yet, the idea of losing him frightens me. He’s been by my side since the beginning, and in his own way, he’s tried to protect me.«Lilia, I’m here with you. That won’t change.»He wraps his arms around me and I press my forehead to his chest. I can’t fully let go, but the comfort I feel is beyond words.«Thank you.»«Don’t thank me. You deserve to be happy. I’ll do what I can to make that happen.»His words hang between us, suspended in time. There’s something in his eyes I hadn’t noticed before—a fragile tenderness, almost fearful.His fingers brush my cheek, light as a butterfly’s wing. Then he leans down, slowly, as though asking for permission. His lips meet mine in a kiss—gentle, a little sorrowful, like a goodbye he doesn’t want to say.I close my eyes. I can’t tell if I’m trembling from emotion or fear of losing him. There’s too much unsaid, too many shadows chasing us. But in that breathless moment, I feel safe.When we part, his eyes glisten, but the smile he gives me is the same as always. Disarming. Real.«We’ll get through this, Lilia.»I nod, though I’m not entirely sure. The sharper my mind grows, the more the memories claw at me. The world feels like a machine I can’t control. Nothing is what it seems, and my screwed-up life has now turned utterly surreal.Still, Emanuele is right. We have to move forward as if we believe we’ll make it. Otherwise, we’re already lost.

We resume our path, descending toward the cliffs. The sea stretches out below us, an endless breath of deep blue, stirred only by the gentlest breeze. From up here, the water seems pure, untouched—and yet, something gnaws at me. Too much silence. Too much perfection.«A cave?»I lean forward, trying to get a better look. The rock narrows into a steep gorge, plunging into the depths. A soft blue-green glow pulses from below, shifting with the rhythm of the waves.Emanuele crouches beside me. «We could go down.»I glance at him, uncertain. «What if it’s a terrible idea?»He gives me a faint smile. «It is. But it also seems like the only one we have.»

The descent is difficult. The limestone walls are slick, worn smooth by sea and air. Emanuele moves with the ease of someone in tune with every inch of his body, while I proceed cautiously, clinging to ledges. The sound of water grows louder, echoing through the stone.When we finally reach the bottom, the cave reveals itself.It’s vast. A cathedral of stone and light.The water, clear as liquid crystal, reflects the ceiling in shifting hues of blue and green, rippling like a living mirror. Stalactites hang above us like stone claws, dripping slowly into the darkness. Light filters in from the submerged entrance, casting shifting patterns across the walls—dancing shadows in constant motion.For a moment, we say nothing.Then Emanuele points toward the far end of the cavern.«There.»I follow his gaze—and freeze.There’s a boat. Abandoned. Not a fishing skiff, but a research vessel, outfitted with unfamiliar equipment and a radio hanging crooked, the plastic casing bleached by moisture.«What the hell…» I whisper.We approach cautiously. The water is so clear I can see the stones beneath the hull, a dark blot against the shimmering blue.Emanuele places a hand on the boat. It’s intact. No sign of damage. No clue as to what might have happened.«Where are they?» I ask, more to myself than to him.He scans the instruments, as if expecting the researchers to return any second. Then he lifts the radio.«Strange.» He turns it in his hands. «It’s on—but picking up no signal.»We exchange a glance. Tension coils between us like a warning.The cave’s air feels suddenly heavier. The silence more oppressive. My heart hammers in my chest as a cold thought slices through me.If the radio is still on… why is no one here?

The soft lapping of water against the hull is the only sound—at odds with the dread creeping into my mind.I turn toward Emanuele, now inspecting the deck, his fingers skimming over the damp controls. His face gives nothing away, but the stiffness in his shoulders tells me he feels it too.I step closer, eyes scanning the hull. Then I see it—just above the waterline.A red smear on the stone. My pulse stutters as I approach.I crouch, reaching out with tentative fingers.Blood.I jerk my hand back, breath catching in my throat. It’s not much—but it’s there. Dried into the rock. Dark drops the sea hasn’t washed away.«Emanuele.» My voice is barely a whisper.He joins me, eyes following mine. He crouches and brushes the stone with practiced care.«A few hours old, at most.» No comfort in his tone.We lock eyes.Something happened here. Something bad.I wrap my arms around myself, chilled despite the warm air. Where did the researchers go? Why would they abandon their boat—with everything intact?«Are they… dead?»«Probably. But we can’t be sure.»Emanuele stands and returns to the vessel. He moves some equipment, checks the radio panel, then glances back at me.«You should tell the others. In the meantime, I’ll check the seabed.»«It could be dangerous.» I lick my lips, uneasy.He gives me a lopsided smile. «What isn’t, at this point?»«That’s no reason to risk your life.»He tilts his head, teasing. «I can handle myself. Don’t underestimate me.»I’ve seen what he’s capable of. Maybe he’s always been holding back. Maybe I should start having a little more faith in him.«Fear hasn’t been my best guide so far,» I admit. «Do what you must. I’ll bring the others.»He nods. «I’ll be ready.»«You better be, or I’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth.» I shoot him a pointed look.«I love these threats. Until later, my lady.» He laughs, then dives into the water.His shape spreads like a shadow beneath the surface—then vanishes.I turn back, climbing the rocks faster than I did coming down. The sky above is impossibly blue. Too blue, as if trying to disguise the fact that something on this island is terribly wrong.