Island of Legends Page 12

  Ms. Octavia followed Alex’s gaze. “Ah. I see.” She put a tentacle on Alex’s arm. “He’s feeling guilty, thinking he should have saved her. They were very close friends. You know,” she said, turning to look at Alex, “I just realized how alike you two are. No wonder you’ve finally clashed.”

  Alex turned toward Ms. Octavia and studied her for a moment. “You’ve lost your glasses,” he said finally.

  “Yes,” she said with a rueful smile. “They’re at the bottom of the sea now. Siggy will find me another pair from his costume box once we get home, I suppose.”

  Alex’s chest tightened. Tears sprang to his eyes. He remembered the last time Ms. Octavia had lost her glasses—on the day Artimé came back to life. Alex had picked them up for her, overjoyed at the sight of her yet still heartbroken because he had to tell her the news that Mr. Today was dead.

  Now, with Florence gone and Simber mad, he leaned forward, elbows on the railing, and buried his face in his hands. “I’m so sorry,” he choked out.

  Ms. Octavia patted Alex’s back. “There, there,” she said. “It’s just a pair of glasses! And I’ll tell you a secret—they were purely for vanity. I assure you I can see perfectly.”

  Alex sighed and breathed in and out. “I know,” he said. He kept his face covered. “Mr. Today told me.”

  “Oh, that Marcus, what a stinker! He wasn’t supposed to tell,” Ms. Octavia said with a laugh, but her eyes shone, and soon she was weeping openly. “And now Florence. Oh, dear Alex. You’ve been thoroughly wrung out in ways most of us will never understand.”

  Alex couldn’t speak. After a few minutes, as Captain Ahab guided the ship to the south side of Pirate Island, Alex squeezed the end of one of Ms. Octavia’s tentacles and patted the top of it. “Thank you,” he said.

  And then he sniffed, composed himself, and took his place at the bow of the ship to address the fractured team, for it was also his job to bring them all together once more.

  The Bird’s-Eye View

  It was back to business, and the first team was off to Pirate Island. Alex shoved his feelings aside, more determined than ever not to let anything get in the way of this mission. He could not mess up again.

  “Do you see anyone?” he whispered a short while later.

  “Not on the upper level,” Sky said. She leaned over the skylight of the reverse aquarium—the glassed-in, undersea island habitat that was built around a volcano. She scooped water and sand out of the shallow window well to get a clearer look. Crow pushed in beside her, and Carina, who had seen Copper briefly on their last visit and knew what she looked like, crouched on the other side of the glass. Next to her was a large coil of rope, just in case they had a chance to make a fast rescue.

  Simber crouched on the rocks nearby. He ignored the others and stared to the west, sampling the air now and then.

  It was a long day with little activity on the upper level. Just the occasional man or woman in dark trousers and bright-colored or white flouncy shirts. Some of the shirts were adorned with gold bars or symbols, and others were plain. Some of the men and women sported tattoos and scars, making them look quite dangerous.

  Now and then they saw women in elegant dresses, complete with petticoats and feathered hats that would make Mr. Appleblossom sigh in delight. But there was no sign of Copper in her dingy brown slave clothing.

  At nightfall, Simber carried Crow to the ship so he could sleep, but Sky refused to go, so Carina and Alex stayed with her. Their muscles ached from crouching all day.

  It was actually easier to see into the reverse aquarium in the dark. And now they could lean over the skylight without fear of casting a shadow and being discovered. The place was lit up, though Alex wasn’t exactly sure how. He could see vertical tubes here and there that contained bubbling, glowing lava, but he wasn’t sure if they were casting much light or if their primary purpose was for warmth. The constant, slow movement of the globs of lava was quite relaxing and pleasant to watch. Almost too relaxing. Alex felt himself dozing off once or twice but immediately forced himself to stay alert—he couldn’t afford any more mistakes. He studied the layout.

  The top level, a good distance below them, was simply a suspended, wood-planked walkway around the perimeter of the glass leading to a single set of large doors. It wasn’t well traveled at all. That’s where they’d seen Sky and Crow’s mother the last time, when she’d told them through Warbleran hand signals that she was a slave. They’d watched her get taken away by a man with gold bars on his shirt.

  “What if they killed her?” Sky asked eventually. It had taken her all day to say it out loud, even though Alex knew she’d been worried about that ever since they’d seen her.

  No one knew the answer. Instead they tried to memorize the layout of the open areas far below, where large, leafy plants, vegetables, fruit trees, and flowers grew. And there was grass, too, with benches all around. People bustled about the common area, some strolling as if they were enjoying the scenery, others stopping to pick up fruit that had fallen to the ground, still others looking like they were headed somewhere important.

  “It’s like they think they’re outside,” Carina mused. “I wonder how often they get out of this cage.”

  Alex shook his head. “I don’t know. I can’t imagine they get out very often, except to fish.”

  “Oh,” Carina said, pointing, “there goes somebody out the fishing hatch now. See—one glass door slides open to let them into the holding space. When that inside door closes, the outside door slides open and water pours in over them, but they can hold on to a bar so they don’t get swept away. And they’ve got masks of some sort to help them breathe.”

  “Shh,” Alex warned. He turned and looked expectantly at the shore nearest them. “He’s right below the ground over there.”

  “I don’t think he can hear us if he’s underwater,” Sky said.

  Alex felt the blood rise to his cheeks. “I know. I meant in case he swims up to the surface or something.”

  Sky elbowed him to let him know she was only teasing. She didn’t like the tension between them. But Alex just gave an absentminded smile and stayed focused on the scene below.

  “There’s that playground where we saw all the children,” he said. That glass room was dark now.

  The rocks below them shuddered, making everyone tense up. The person who had gone out the fishing hatch came back inside and quickly took off his gear as other people sprang into action inside the island. “I think that’s our cue. We should go,” Alex said. “Now.”

  Nobody questioned him.

  “Captain, head out to sea immediately! We’ll catch up,” Alex called, knowing his voice would carry nicely over the water at night.

  Within seconds, Ahab, who was standing ready, had the ship pulling away from the volcano. The ground shook again, and Alex, Sky, and Carina hopped onto Simber’s back. He took off into the air, and as they passed over the skylight, Alex could see people below scurrying to the walls, where seats dropped down. The people sat down and strapped in, helping children first, then themselves.

  “So that’s how they don’t get hurt with all the plunging and resurfacing,” Alex said, pointing. “They feel the warning shivers just like we did, and they strap in for safety.”

  Simber started heading for the ship. “Wait a second, please,” Alex said, a bit stiffly. It was uncomfortable speaking to Simber, as it still felt like they were fighting, but Alex couldn’t dwell on that now. “How do you feel about hovering over the volcano while it sinks? Maybe we can see what happens?”

  “Yes!” Carina said. “What do you think, Simber? Is it safe?”

  Sky looked on with interest. Everybody wanted to know more about the workings of the strange island.

  “As long as no firrre shoots out when it descends, we should be safe and hidden frrrom view.”

  “And,” Alex said, “we’ll be able to see down into the hole because it’s all lit up. At least until the water covers it. Plus, we’ve never though
t to fly over the top to see where that fire comes from.” He grew more excited. “I don’t think it spews any fire at all when it goes down, does it, guys?”

  Carina and Sky shook their heads. “I don’t think so,” Sky said. “Only when it comes back up, almost as if the heat inside builds up with the pressure of the water over it, and”—she paused, thinking—“maybe that’s what raises the island. The fire under the surface builds up until it lifts the volcano. It explodes and stays above the surface until it cools sufficiently, and then it goes back down again, where the process starts over.”

  Alex, forgetting himself for a moment, gave her an admiring glance. “Wow,” he said, a little breathless. Even if she turned out to be wrong, she sounded really smart.

  “That’s a good theory,” Carina said.

  “Thank you,” Sky said. “Let’s watch.”

  Simber flew up above the top of the volcano. From here, everyone could see the rectangle of light coming from the skylight where they had been stationed, and because it was dark out, they could see a few other skylights as well hidden around the volcano.

  “Look!” Alex said, pointing them out. “Over there—that’s near where the sea creatures are.”

  Simber flew above a skylight on the opposite side of the island and dropped down a bit so they could get a better look, but soon the volcano rumbled once more and Simber pulled away. Still, the Artiméans could see, almost like looking through a porthole, an entire vat of sea beasts swimming around one another in very tight quarters.

  For once the small group was stunned silent. An entire quarter of the glass cage was taken up by a giant squid with wistful eyes the size of Artimé’s largest serving platters, and long, beefy tentacles splayed against the glass, as if there was a chance he might will himself through to the other side. If he sat upon the mansion in Artimé, his long tentacles might reach the ground.

  In another corner was a beautiful, long-necked sea monster with stout legs and flipperlike feet. As she moved, several humps along her back rose and fell in a rippling pattern.

  There were some smaller creatures too, swimming or floating about.

  Alex, Carina, Sky, and Simber all stared.

  Suddenly light flickered near the aquarium and the creatures inside all startled and moved away from one side of their prison. A familiar shape came into view just as the volcano shuddered harder, threatening to plunge beneath the sea.

  It was the giant eel, curled up like a bedspring outside the aquarium. With a touch of its electric tail to a switch on the glass, a door slid open. In one swift motion the eel unfurled, and a new creature torpedoed into the cage. The door slid closed and the eel shot out of sight, leaving the captured creatures to marvel over their new cellmate.

  Carina gasped. It was Florence.

  Her ebony body sank to the bottom of the glass cage, and she didn’t move.

  Alex shouted, Simber growled, and the volcano groaned. Shaking violently, the entire island and all its inhabitants and attachments plunged into the sea.

  A Most Peculiar Dinner

  Aaron Stowe waited impatiently for his guests to arrive. After his near epiphany the other night and his newfound powers in the jungle, Aaron was more eager than ever to have other people help him reorganize, reenergize, and rebuild Quill into something much more powerful than it had ever been before. He was anxious to take control of Artimé once and for all.

  He knew he had many of the Necessaries on his side—he’d seen to that by giving them food incentives from the Favored Farm. But Aaron could feel the Wanteds distancing themselves. They hadn’t gotten much extra attention when the Necessaries did—only a few Unwanteds to use as slaves, which they had to share. And they hadn’t had any personal interaction with the government in a while. It was time to bring them back into the fold and remind them how awful it was that Artimé existed. Once Aaron had them back to full devotion, he could slowly reel in the Quillitary once more. When he had everyone’s support, combined with the ferocious jungle animals, Aaron would be invincible. He’d take over Artimé, and maybe even the island where those ships had come from.

  He even dared picture himself living luxuriously in the mansion in Artimé, ruling over everything. . . . It felt wrong and good at the same time. How would he justify that to the others? It might take some convincing to get them to see that it wasn’t the mansion they took issue with—it was the people inside it.

  Eva Fathom cleared her throat. Aaron looked up to find her standing in the doorway to his office.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s nearly eight. Shall I summon Liam Healy for dinner?” Eva asked. Liam’s home in Quill had been taken over when he went to the Ancients Sector, so Eva had found a small room for him at the top of the palace tower. She’d chosen it for Liam because it had an interesting view overlooking all of Quill, including a close-up view of the barbed-wire ceiling, since the tower helped support it. The room held a few of Justine’s things: a dressing table and chair, a few moth-eaten black robes, and a bucket that had once contained a plant.

  Aaron shoved his chair back and went to the window to look down over the driveway. “Is anyone else here?”

  “No.”

  Aaron’s eyes strayed to the outer wall, where the window to the sea had been. He frowned at the cement blocks and tapped his fingers on the windowsill. “Let’s wait. I thought you said they’d be coming.”

  “No, I said there was a chance.”

  “How did you invite them? Were you polite?”

  “More polite than you would have been,” Eva said.

  Aaron strained to look down the drive toward the portcullis. “Someone’s coming, I think,” he said. He could feel a tiny shred of excitement building up, and he didn’t try to stop it. How long had it been since he’d had any company at all? Besides grumpy old Eva Fathom, of course. “Call Liam.”

  “Am I to join you for dinner?” Eva asked.

  Aaron turned around to look at her. He stared for a moment. “I suppose. I hadn’t thought about you.”

  Eva offered a thin smile. “Of course you hadn’t.” Whatever sarcasm was in her voice went undetected. “Please accompany yourself to the dining room in five minutes.”

  Aaron nodded and turned back to the window. “Perhaps six minutes so I don’t appear too eager.”

  “Oh, just make it ten, then.” Eva whisked down the hallway, shaking her head.

  Liam and Eva arrived in the dining room just as former governor Strang was ushered in. He had cleaned up quite well—his hair was cut short, his mustache shaved, and his beard trimmed neatly. He wore fresh clothing, though his protruding belly threatened to burst the buttons on his jacket. He almost looked like a fine young man in his early twenties once more, rather than a middle-aged slob who had given up on life.

  “Good evening, Secretary,” Strang said nervously as Eva and Liam entered. He held his hand out to Liam. “Hello. I’m Septimus Strang.”

  “Of course, Governor,” Liam said. “Liam Healy, at your service.”

  Strang laughed uneasily. “Former. Ah, governor . . . that is.” He pulled a wrinkled hankie from his pocket and wiped his forehead.

  “As you wish. Well met, sir,” Liam said.

  “Certainly.” Strang looked at Eva with a pained expression. “Is it just us tonight, then?”

  “No, no. The high priest will be along presently. He’s had a very busy day and is running a bit behind. Help yourself.” Eva pointed to a table, where a tray with a pitcher of water and some glasses rested. “There may be one more guest as well. I’m not sure.”

  Strang hurried over to the table, poured a glass of water with a shaky hand, and gulped it down. He poured a second glass and held on to it.

  Liam looked around the room. The palace was a bit fancier than anything he’d seen in Quill before, but it was just as colorless and uninviting. After catching a glimpse of Artimé, everything here looked bland.

  A moment later Aaron entered the room wearing one of Justine’s bl
ack robes. He looked to Eva.

  Eva withheld the urge to laugh at how ridiculous he looked, and announced, “May I please present the High Priest Aaron? High Priest, I believe you are well acquainted with former Governor Strang and Liam Healy.”

  Aaron held a limp hand out to the others as Justine had done when he’d first dined with her.

  Strang hesitated, and then awkwardly bowed over Aaron’s hand without actually touching it. “May Quill prevail with all I have in me,” he said. He’d taught that very mantra to Aaron when the boy first went to university.

  Liam frowned but followed Strang’s lead. “May Quill prevail . . . ,” he said, and left it at that.

  There was a noise at the palace entry. Eva looked at Aaron and raised her eyebrow. Aaron lifted his chin and strained to hear. They didn’t have to wait long to discover that Gondoleery Rattrapp had arrived.

  The guard at the door tried to accompany her, but the eccentric old woman pushed ahead and burst into the room, wearing a bright orange cape over her drab Quill clothing. Her hair stood on end, and her face was as red and blistery as it had been the day before—perhaps even more so. There were several fresh burn marks on her forearms and fingers.

  “Hello,” she said. Aaron held his hand out so Gondoleery could give the proper greeting, but she breezed past and went over to the tray to pour herself some water. She dipped her burned fingers into the glass.

  Aaron gaped and put his limp hand down. He hadn’t seen Gondoleery since before the Restorers attacked Artimé. She’d changed quite a bit from their days of plotting outside the palace gate.

  “Good evening, Gondoleery,” Eva said. “What a shocking cape you’re wearing. Wherever did you find something so . . . colorful?”

  “I used orange and red peppers from the Favored Farm as a dye,” she said. “They stained my fingers, so I figured they would stain cloth as well.”

  Aaron frowned and glanced at Strang, who was appropriately frowning too. Aaron held his tongue, but he knew Justine would not approve of color like that in clothing. And neither would he.