by Lisa McMann
After walking for a few minutes, they came to a circular cavern with hallways branching off in multiple directions. The purple and green lines split up.
Samheed peered down the green hallways to see if there was any sign of Lani, but there was no long black hair to be seen anywhere. The man pointed to the hallway that he wanted Samheed to take, and they walked down it to a large room filled with cots in neat rows. The man brought him to an empty cot that had a book lying on top of it, titled Handbook for Vagabonds. Samheed sat down on the bed. He picked up the book and looked at the man.
The man nodded, and then he turned and left.
Samheed opened the book and read the first page.
Welcome, wanderer, and congratulations. By setting foot on our shores, you have become the sole property of Warbler Island and Queen Eagala. As you have likely discovered in your travels, there is no way to leave the sea that surrounds Warbler and the other six islands contained within.
We wish to inform you that Warbler has a growing fleet of ships. Escapees will be hunted and killed. Your orange eyes will forevermore be proof that you are the branded property of Warbler.
Your golden thorns are for your protection and the protection of Warbler. As travelers land on our shores, they are removed of the burden of speech in favor of a simple, quiet life of quality without distraction. Indeed, a spell of silence has been cast over the entire island, quieting all incidental sounds except for human voices, allowing Warblerians to work in the most optimal conditions. As a possibly unwilling newcomer, you will learn to appreciate that we’ve removed the temptation to speak ill of Warbler or its leader to anyone passing by our shores. It was a necessary move to keep Warbler strong and loyal after the recent revolt.
Samheed’s mouth hung open. This place is nuts, he thought. He looked back at the opening paragraph, which contained a line that was news to him. “As you have likely discovered in your travels, there is no way to leave the sea that surrounds Warbler and the other six islands contained within.”
Sam had never thought about traveling beyond the seven islands. Until recently he’d never even thought that there could be more than one island, and that was Quill. But now, thanks to Artimé and Mr. Today, he knew how to think, how to use his imagination. Obviously, based on this book, someone must have tried going beyond the other islands. But what did it mean, “there’s no way to leave” ? How would anyone know there was another place to go to? And if there was no way to leave, did that also mean there was no way to enter? And if so . . . how did everyone get here in the first place? It was extremely puzzling.
Plus, there was magic here—a spell of silence, which explained why nothing made a sound except Queen Eagala’s voice. Samheed had thought he’d lost his hearing. But he’d always equated magic with good places. This was no good place, that was for sure.
He turned the page.
Warbler uses a simple system of sign language created by Queen Eagala. You will be taught a small vocabulary of signs that pertain to your personal needs and the work to which you are assigned. You will find a loose piece of paper inside this booklet instructing you about your job, hours, requirements, and behavior expectations.
Samheed turned the page and a slip of paper fluttered to the floor. He picked it up and read:
SHIPBUILDER
Report immediately to shipbuilding. Hours are sunup to sundown with one break at midday. You are not allowed to touch any tools until you have been assessed.
Sunup to sundown? How was anybody to know when the sun was up or down, here in this warren of caves? Samheed sighed. He looked at the bottom of the note, where there was a makeshift map guiding him to the shipbuilding area.
After a cursory glance around his new living quarters, Samheed stood up. He tugged at the thin chain that connected his thorn necklace to the wire above. It was locked, stuck fast. Finally he started walking, carrying the note with the map, weaving his way through tunnels. Straining his eyes for a glimpse of Lani and hoping she was okay.
When he neared the end of the directions, he squinted. Afternoon sunlight poured in through a hole above his head. He hadn’t seen sunlight in weeks. As he stood there at the base of the stone-carved ladder, basking in the warmth of the sun, taking a moment to enjoy it before starting his new job, a bright ball of fire whizzed past his ear and flew up through the hole, leaving a faint trail of light skating down the passageway behind it.
A Still, Small Voice
When Alex woke up late the next morning, he almost couldn’t remember where he was. He lay in the soft bed surrounded by pillows and blankets feeling refreshed for the first time in a long time.
“Alex,” Clive called from the other room. “Aaaalex!”
Alex cringed. “What?” he shouted back.
“Nothing.”
Alex rolled his eyes and reluctantly climbed out of bed. He cleaned up and got ready for what would surely be another busy day, and then he went into his living area and stood in front of the blackboard. “What?” he said again.
Clive looked away. A tear pressed out from the surface of the blackboard and rolled down his cheek.
Alex’s eyes widened. “Oh no,” he said. “You heard the news?”
Clive gave a curt nod. “Yes. And may I say that when Mr. Today was alive, the blackboards were the first to know everything,” he said, his voice containing a hint of accusation.
“Clive . . . ,” Alex began. Clive wrenched his head in the other direction for dramatic effect. Alex kind of wanted to punch him, but he gathered up as much patience as he could muster. “Look, I’m really sorry. I had a lot of stuff to do yesterday, and I wanted to tell you the whole story so you could deliver it to the others. But it’s a really long story, and there was so much happening—rescuing Ms. Morning, getting the people out of the secret hallway—”
“There’s a secret hallway?” Clive cried out.
Alex sighed, but he couldn’t help saying, “I guess Mr. Today never told you that.”
“Stop! The pain! It’s still so fresh. . . . ”
Alex gritted his teeth and started loading up his spell components for the day. “Oh, come off it. I’ve really had enough drama for now. I know you’re sad, I know everybody’s sad, and I am too, but I’ve got to go help take the THORNS out of MEGHAN’S NECK now,” he said, punching the words out and slamming components into his pockets as anger built inside him, “because SHE CAN’T SPEAK. I bet nobody mentioned that to you, either. And then I have to figure out how to rescue Samheed and Lani, because they are PRISONERS at a NEARBY ISLAND. What’s that? You didn’t know about that, either? That’s because I’m so busy saving everything and everybody that I didn’t have TWO SECONDS to tell you before the next crisis happened. Okay?” Alex hadn’t felt so unforgiving in a long time.
Clive’s forehead wrinkled in alarm. “Gosh,” he muttered. And then he sank back into the blackboard and disappeared.
Alex’s mouth opened briefly, and then he closed it again and shook his head. “Whatever.” He refilled the pockets of his newly cleaned component vest, ordered a breakfast sandwich sent up from the kitchen, and set off with it. As he closed the door behind him, he paused, listening for Clive’s usual parting words, but this time there was nothing to hear. He bit his lip and looked down at the floor, and then shrugged and walked to the balcony, inhaling his sandwich in three bites.
Meghan stood waiting. People buzzed about as usual. It was almost freaky how normal things seemed again.
“Ready?” Alex asked. He licked his fingers and wiped them dry on his pants.
Meghan’s face was verging on light gray. She rolled her shoulders a few times and nodded. Together they descended and walked into the hospital ward. Florence and Octavia were already there, and so were Sean and a team of nurses.
Meghan grabbed her brother’s hand and sat down on the cot as Florence explained the procedure. Octavia and the nurses performed as much medicine magic as they could think of to help her through the pain to come. And then . .
.
And then.
Florence picked up an enormous sterilized wire cutter with long handles, and very carefully she clamped it down on a stretch of thorny necklace, not touching Meghan’s skin. She pressed the cutter handles together and there was a loud, swift click as the metal broke.
Everyone breathed. Florence pulled the cutter back and inspected her work. “Doing okay, Meghan?” she asked.
Meghan nodded.
Florence went to a second section and cut through that piece as well. She did a third and a fourth and a fifth, all the way around Meghan’s neck. And then she stepped back. Her part was done.
Meghan offered up a strained grin. Everyone knew that the hard part was still to come. The nurses surrounded Meghan to the point that Alex couldn’t see what they were doing, but perhaps, he thought, it was better that way. His stomach was feeling a bit queasy, and maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea after all to gulp down a big breakfast sandwich ten seconds before coming here.
The nurses murmured to Meghan and to each other, little bits of encouragement that gave Alex hints at what was happening as they applied a magical ointment and tried working the metal bits loose so they could tug them out of her skin. But the incisions had healed well, fusing together with the metal, and the thorns were stuck fast.
After several minutes of struggling with nothing giving way, the nurses stepped back. Meghan searched Alex’s face wildly, begging him with teary eyes to do something.
Alex swallowed hard. He felt so helpless. He had no idea what to do.
Sean tugged at his hair. “Isn’t there a spell or something? Anything?”
The loss of Mr. Today hit hard at that moment. There would be many times like this in the future, they all felt it.
But then, from across the room, came a weak whisper. “Alex.”
Alex rushed over to Ms. Morning’s side. “She’s awake!” he cried. His hands shook.
Claire closed her eyes again, and with great effort, she nodded. When he leaned down, she whispered in his ear, “Dissipate. Using the robe may help.” She drew a pained breath. “Careful. Dangerous. Be very . . . ,” she rasped, and paused to take another breath. “Precise. And concentrate on the thorns.”
Alex’s eyes widened. “Okay,” he whispered. He glanced up at the others, who were all looking on anxiously. “I’ll be right back.”
He ran out of the hospital ward and took the steps three at a time—he’d never been able to do that before, he noted, but there was no time to marvel at his own awesomeness. Across the balcony and down the secret hallway he went, turning sharply into Mr. Today’s office and grabbing one of the robes from the rack. He tore back through the hallway, shoving his arms into the robe, and clipped down the stairs into the hospital ward, coming to an abrupt stop in front of Meghan.
He caught his breath and fastened the robe properly, then flexed his fingers and looked his best friend in the eye. “Ms. Morning said this is a dangerous spell.” His eyes roamed the room, stopping at Ms. Octavia. “I suppose I should just be here alone with Meghan so no one hears me say it. . . . ”
Ms. Octavia held up three tentacles. “Say no more. Let’s go, everyone. Out.”
Florence, Octavia, and the nurses filed out. Sean looked concerned. He turned to Meghan. “Are you okay with him trying it?”
Meghan gazed into his eyes. After a moment she nodded.
Sean looked at Alex. “Don’t mess it up,” he warned.
Alex’s stomach twisted. “Right. Of course not. No pressure.”
As Sean reluctantly left the room, Alex grabbed Meghan’s hand. “Are you absolutely sure? I don’t know what could happen, but I promise I’ll be extremely careful.”
Meghan nodded firmly. She’d made up her mind.
“Okay, then. Hold very still.” Alex let go of her and made a fist with his left hand, trying to stop it from shaking, but Ms. Morning’s warning to be precise had seemed to set his body off in the opposite direction. He stretched his fingers out, blew on them, and took a deep breath. And then he carefully placed the tip of his thumb and forefinger on the end of a section of metal, making sure his fingers didn’t touch Meghan’s hair, neck, or any other part of her body. And then he closed his eyes and concentrated on the thorns, thought about what he wanted to do. He made one last check to be sure he wasn’t touching any part of Meghan, only the metal, and then whispered, “Dissipate.”
The section of metal faded away, and the skin deflated and puckered around the holes.
Alex stepped back and breathed. “Whoa,” he said, “it worked. A piece totally just disappeared. Unbelievable.”
Meghan bit her lip. She poked Alex in the arm and nodded impatiently, pointing to her neck.
“Okay, okay. Let’s do the next section.” Now that he knew what would happen, the thought of accidentally touching Meghan while saying the spell gave him a slight stroke. What if he accidentally made Meghan’s neck—or worse, Meghan’s whole self—disappear? No wonder nobody seemed to know about this spell.
“Hold still,” he said. He placed his fingers on the next section, focused, and repeated the spell. The section disappeared just like the other had, leaving a strange, intriguing pattern of scars around her neck. “It’s working,” he muttered. “Next one.” He did the third section, and then the fourth, and the fifth, all the way around, until he came to the last one, the piece right in front. It was the piece that kept her from being able to speak at all.
“Here we go,” he said. Nervous sweat dripped from his temples. He touched the metal piece, whispered the verbal component, and watched it slowly disappear. With an enormous sigh of relief, he stepped back and wiped his face with his sleeve. “I’m done,” he said softly.
Meghan lifted her hand to her neck and touched it gingerly, all around, feeling the tiny holes and scar lines.
“Does it hurt?”
Meghan bit her lip, and then she parted them as if to speak. Alex leaned forward, straining, as Meghan took a breath and whispered in a cluttered, choked sort of way, “Only a little.”
For a Brief Moment
An enormous grin spread across Meghan’s face. “I can talk!” she half whispered, half croaked. “It feels so weird. . . . ” She trailed off. “I hope the squeaks go away,” she said, squeaking.
“Woo-hoo!” Alex shouted. He embraced her, and then they flung open the doors to the hall outside the hospital ward, where Sean and the others had been standing around anxiously.
“Hi-iii!” Meghan said, her voice continuing to screech and creak. She did a little impromptu dance in the foyer. “I can talk!”
The group rushed over to her, chattering excitedly, surrounding her, and Alex stepped aside to give them room. He went back into the hospital ward to thank Ms. Morning, but both she and Gunnar were sleeping.
He tiptoed out and began to search the mansion for Sky and Crow—they needed to see this. But he couldn’t find them anywhere. He hadn’t seen much of them since Artimé had returned, actually, though he’d heard that Crow and Henry did everything together.
Alex headed outside and was reminded of how lucky they were not to be sleeping on concrete in desertlike heat. Now that he had a second to breathe, he took in the sights and sounds of the brightly colored world. The peaceful lull of the bubbling fountain, creatures walking down pathways or sitting together in trees, talking or resting or entertaining one another, and the gentle scents of flowers and the musk of the jungle at the edge of the lawn. It almost felt like the first day he’d been here.
A moment later he spied Sky sitting on the edge of the fountain. Her face brightened at the sight of Alex, and he felt his stomach flip as he ran over to her. He sat down at her side.
“Hey! I feel like I haven’t seen you in days,” he said, laughing, and then his laugh softened into a crooked smile. “Isn’t it fun being clean again? Ha-ha. Um . . . ” He blushed. “I missed you. And I never got to thank you for . . . wow, for everything. Helping with the clue, and figuring out there was something wr
ong upstairs . . . ” He trailed off, realizing all the things she’d done for him the past few weeks.
Sky smiled and waved him off.
“No, I mean it,” he said in earnest. “You’ve been, like, the one person I could count on through this whole mess. You’re just really, really cool, and amazing, and smart, and levelheaded—”
Sky covered her face with her hands, embarrassed.
Alex stopped talking and waited for her to look at him again.
She spread her fingers and peeked between them.
“And clever,” Alex said.
She pinched the space closed again.
Alex grinned. “Okay,” he said. He punched her softly in the arm. “I’ll stop. I promise.”
She pulled her fingers away and raised an eyebrow.
“Promise,” Alex said again. He liked her orange eyes.
They smiled at one another as if they shared a secret, but when the girl blinked her long lashes and let her hand rest on the fountain between her knee and his, Alex was sure he didn’t know what that secret might be. His brain turned to scrambled eggs. He knew he had a goofy grin on his face, but he couldn’t help it. There was something almost magical about the girl. Her plump lips, her light brown skin, and those deep, golden sunset-colored eyes. Alex swallowed hard as he felt his body lean ever so slowly toward her, as if his shoulder was magnetized to hers. Sky, her eyes on his, didn’t lean away.
Just then a flaming ball of light streaked between their faces and stopped a few feet in front of Alex. As he reared back and turned to see what had happened, it exploded, leaving only a glowing pencil-drawn picture of Lani and a thin trail of light stretching across the sea, pointing out the direction from which it had come.
Alex stared at it, his face growing pale just as the picture faded away. He swung around to look at the trail of light streaking toward Warbler Island. And then he turned back to Sky. His lips parted as if to speak, but he didn’t have a clue what to say. Sky held his gaze solemnly for a moment, reached up and squeezed his arm, and then smiled, bringing her hands together in her lap.
