Island of Fire

by Lisa McMann

  Obediently, Crow put his fingers in his ears.

  Alex touched the metal thorns, careful to stay far away from her skin. “Ready?” he whispered.

  Sky blinked once, not daring to nod her head. She squeezed her hands into fists so tight that her knuckles looked like they might split.

  Alex closed his eyes and pictured the thorns disappearing, and then he whispered, “Dissipate.”

  When he opened his eyes, his fingertips were empty. In the space in front of him, Sky stood, still as a mouse.

  “It’s done.” A grin spread across Alex’s face. “Check the mirror,” he said, remembering that’s what covered the wall where the secret hallway stood.

  The girl put her fingers to her neck, and then ran to the mirror and stared. She traced the scars. A tear fell from the corner of her eye, and then she turned to Alex. “Alex,” she half mouthed, half whispered, nearly choking as her voice struggled to make sound once again. “Thank you.”

  It was the most beautiful sound Alex had ever heard.

  Lessons in Warblish

  Every day, whenever Lani could find a moment when no one was watching, she sent out the seek spell. And every day, when no one came to rescue them, she lost a little more hope.

  She was assigned to work in a fire cave, melting gold coins and making thorn necklaces. There were five or six other workers there around Lani’s age, and they showed her how to use a mold to form the long, thin, sharply pointed strings of gold. While the strings were still hot, the workers loosely weaved several of them together in a curved shape, making sure the pointed ends were at the proper angles to easily be inserted into someone’s neck. It was the most horrible job Lani could think of.

  The cave had a hole in the high ceiling, which let in some natural light. It also let out the smoke from the fire. It was beastly hot in there, and terribly sooty. The others talked now and then with gestures that Lani didn’t understand, but most of the time everyone plodded along, making gleaming golden thorns, lost in their own thoughts. It was beyond frustrating. Lani wanted to scream, to tear the thorns from her neck and yell and stomp her feet and just hear something again besides the rare voice of an unthorned supervisor. She wanted the young women she worked with to be as angry as she was. But they weren’t. They were complacent.

  Days passed. Lani went from the women’s bunkhouse to her job in the fire cave, and back to the bunkhouse. Her “leash” kept her tied to the complicated wire system above her head as she slept, bathed, and worked. Whenever she walked from one place to another, she strained her eyes, looking for any sign of Samheed, worried that he was still locked in the dark cave all alone. As much as she wanted to try to rip the wire off of her with her bare hands, she knew there was nowhere to escape to. And she wasn’t doing anything without Samheed. They were in this together, to the end.

  As she worked, an empty feeling made her chest ache, and tears burned her eyes. She couldn’t get the image out of her head—the man shoving Samheed to the ground, and Sam lying there, not moving, as the hulking beast dragged her away from him. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. What if, after all this, she’d never see him again? What if . . . what if he was dead? She couldn’t bear to think about it.

  At night, his name was on her lips as she tossed and turned on her cot. She clasped her hands together and held them to her cheek, eyes closed, pretending she was holding Samheed’s hand. Wishing with all her might that when she opened her eyes again, he would be there.

  But of course he never was.

  It was on her second week outside the dark cave, after a long day of hard work, that a woman summoned Lani and a blond-haired girl who was also tethered to the wire. Lani didn’t know the girl’s name, and no one knew Lani’s, either—there was really no reason to learn anyone’s name when you couldn’t speak. The woman led them out to the main hallway and to a small room with boulders for chairs. A few people sat there. As the girls entered, they were ushered to one side of the room. Lani looked around at the others and her heart jumped to her throat. There sat Samheed, also tethered to the ceiling wire on the purple line.

  His head was bowed. He hadn’t seen her.

  Lani stared at him, willing him to look up. After a moment, he did.

  His eyes were vacant at first, but when he saw Lani, they filled with recognition and longing. Lani swallowed hard and tried to smile, but only the corner of her mouth quivered. Her heart fluttered. She hadn’t really seen him since the day they’d been captured. They held one another’s gaze, telling stories with their eyes, until a voice startled them from their private, silent conversation.

  “I am Whimbrel,” a woman said. “Your behavior has earned you all the right to learn how to speak in our island’s sign language.” She wore no thorn necklace, but scars marked her neck where one most certainly once had been. “The language is for communication only when necessary, not for idle chatter. Anyone caught using the language excessively will be sent to the dark cave.”

  The handful of tethered people in the room didn’t react. The threat of the dark cave seemed to be the punishment for everything. In their handbooks, in their instructions for their new jobs, in the dining hall. There was nothing much worse than the dark cave, it was true. But they’d all survived it, apparently.

  “In a few years, if you have proved yourself loyal and worthy, Queen Eagala will consider removing your neck device, as she has obviously done for me,” Whimbrel said, her voice brimming with pride. But then her face grew dark. “However, if you try to remove it yourself, you will suffer a terrible fate.”

  All pairs of eyes in the room opened wider. This was news.

  The woman hunched over and said in a low, sinister voice, “The birds of Warbler are spies for the queen. They can track you by your thorns. If anyone but the queen removes your necklace, swarms of Warbler birds will come after you, no matter where you are.” She bent farther toward the group and whispered, “And they will peck your eyes out.”

  Lani glanced at Samheed just as he glanced at her, and they both had to look away quickly to keep a straight face. It was the most ridiculous thing they’d ever heard in their lives—more ridiculous than anything the High Priest Justine had told them in Quill. Besides, it was obvious the queen gave them orange eyes so they could be identified and killed if they ever escaped. It seemed pretty silly that she’d send birds to peck them out after all that effort. What good would that do? But the sad part was, everyone else in the room seemed to believe it with all their heart—even the woman speaking.

  What kind of crazy place is this? Lani had asked herself over and over again. Fear, fear, and more fear. What is Warbler so afraid of that they had to silence everyone on it? Is every island this messed up?

  “And if any strangers find their way to our shores or into our caves, you must not address them. Immediately get help. Understood?”

  The small group, including Lani and Samheed, nodded.

  Whimbrel seemed satisfied that she had instilled a sufficient amount of fear into the hearts and minds of the newest members of Warbler. She went on to teach them a dozen or so hand signals. Words like “come,” “go,” “help,” “inside,” “outside,” “eat,” “sleep,” “work,” “danger,” “please,” and “thank you.”

  Lani almost laughed at the last two. At least the people of Warbler were polite. She shook her head and caught Samheed looking at her. She held his gaze for a moment, a feeling of warmth flooding her chest. What a relief it was to see him—actually see him. It felt like a part of her that had been missing was back again. She smiled and looked down, not wanting Whimbrel to suspect they knew each other.

  Once they’d learned the hand signals, Whimbrel said, “Now pair up and practice the symbols with a partner.”

  As the blond girl turned toward Lani, Lani pretended not to notice and instead stood up and stepped over to Samheed. He half grinned in covert delight and moved over on his boulder chair. Lani hopped on and perched cross-legged, facing him, close enough to touch.
Whimbrel didn’t seem to mind. She wasn’t exactly the housemother type.

  As Whimbrel called out each word, the language students took turns signing it to their partner. Soon the instructor told them to go ahead and work on their own. She sat down near the door, pulled a paper from her pocket, and began to study it.

  Lani’s eyes flew open. She shifted so that Samheed’s body mostly blocked her from Whimbrel’s sight, and then she reached for Samheed’s hand and took it in hers. It was almost as if their blood pulsated together through their fingertips. Lani’s body tingled and she took in a sharp breath. She looked up and saw Samheed swallow hard, his thorns wavering as he did so. And then he tapped gently into her hand in their own private language, “I miss you like crazy.”

  A Ray of Light

  Lani held her breath, willing herself not to cry, because that would surely draw the attention of Whimbrel. “I miss you too,” she tapped back. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” She studied him, his new golden-orange eyes piercing hers. His dark hair was longer than it had ever been, and the ends curled up a bit around his ears and at his neck.

  They made a show of doing some of their signs in case anyone was looking. Samheed pointed to himself and then signed, “Work outside.” He pointed to her, a question burning in his eyes.

  “Inside,” Lani signed back. “Go?” She raised an eyebrow. “Danger?”

  Samheed pressed his lips into a line. He took her hand and tapped. “I make ships. Covered area so no one can see from water or sky.”

  Lani glanced over his shoulder and signed randomly, “Come, go, thank you, please.”

  She tapped. “I’m in fire cave making metal thorns.”

  He flashed her a look of pity and signed, “Work, sleep, eat.”

  She tapped again. “We have to get out of here.” And then she signed, “Go, come, outside.”

  He nodded and tapped, “Stealing wood to make raft. Slow going. When do we get leashes off?”

  Lani shrugged. She saw Whimbrel fold her paper and put it back into her pocket. Lani began signing, flashing a warning with her eyes to Samheed before wiping her face of all emotion once again.

  Whimbrel stood and began walking around the room, looking at each pair and watching them sign, correcting them if they were not quite accurate. She paused at Samheed’s side and watched as Lani signed beautifully, “Danger, please, help.”

  “Good,” Whimbrel said. She smiled primly at Lani and moved on. “Tomorrow we’ll learn another set.”

  Lani’s lips parted in surprise. “Tomorrow!” she tapped into Samheed’s hand.

  He grinned and his face flushed. “Best news of the year,” he tapped. And then he gave Lani’s hand a little squeeze, and she squeezed back.

  It felt right to have their fingers entwined again.

  Making Plans

  While Sean and Meghan rode Simber to Warbler Island to study the terrain, Alex and Florence spent their time gathering information from Sky and Crow. Crow was now free of his thornament as well, and both of the Silent children had a good deal of trouble getting their voices to work properly at first. After some practice and a little bit of magical help from Ms. Morning, Crow’s voice came back, though it still squeaked from time to time. He told Alex that he’d had his necklace on for only a few weeks before he and Sky escaped on the raft.

  Sky, on the other hand, had had her thornament attached for a few years. Even with magic, her voice came back much more slowly and remained husky from that point on, which she didn’t seem to mind. Alex thought she sounded quite nice indeed.

  After a while they gathered in the hospital ward to talk so that Claire and Gunnar could listen as well from their beds. Alex and Florence asked them everything they could think of about Warbler. Soon, with Sky’s hoarse directions, Alex was sketching a map of the underground tunnels and outlining the various workstations around the island, all hidden from the view of the shore and camouflaged with brush and trees.

  “Do you have any idea where Sam and Lani would be?” Alex asked as he studied his work.

  Sky leaned over the map, her hair falling forward. Absently she tucked it behind her ear and pointed to the center of the maze of caves and tunnels. “They’d be in the dark cave for quite a while,” she said, her voice a husky song. “That’s where they put you after they administer the thorns and the acid eye drops. I think it needs to be fairly dark for the eyes to heal.” She said it without a note of bitterness. Florence studied the girl with a curious look.

  “It’s hard to say how long you’re in there, though. It feels like a long time when you don’t know when something’s going to end,” Sky mused. “It’s pretty traumatic.” She glanced at Crow. “Isn’t it, buddy?”

  Crow nodded. He was almost as quiet as before he’d had his thorns removed. He tilted his head and reached across the map. “That’s where the boys sleep. You get chained to a wire for a while until they know you’re good.”

  From her bed, Claire wore a stony expression. She shook her head. “I’m so sorry,” she said in a quiet voice.

  Sky pointed to a large cave on the opposite side. “The girls are in this one.” She pointed to various caves in a clockwise pattern. “Here’s where they manufacture clothing—I worked there part of the time, and also in the shipyard. This is the dining and kitchen area, which is where Crow worked. Mining is done in this cave here and throughout the island—there’s an open mine hidden by rock overhangs in the center of Warbler, and there is also a waterfall with a freshwater river flowing through the middle of the island. This big cave at the south end,” she said, looking at Alex, “which is the opposite side from where Meghan said she and the others anchored the boat, is where the fire cave is—they make the thorns there by melting the gold. And over here,” she said, pointing to the east side of the island, “is shipbuilding.”

  “Ships,” Alex said, tapping his lips and thinking. “Multiple ships?”

  “A fleet,” Crow said. “Queen Eagala wants them for the attack.”

  Alex turned to Crow. “What attack?”

  Sky interrupted. “Let me tell this part, okay, Crow?” She smoothed his hair off his forehead. He shook his head to mess it back up again, but he looked amiable enough and was silent.

  Sky hopped on a chair like she had seen Alex do when he addressed a group. She hunched over, arms reaching out in front of her as if she were imagining a new setting, and began what sounded like a story.

  “Many years ago, Eagala was born on Warbler Island to the current ruling family. When she was a child, she and her older brothers and sisters created the sign language that Warbler now uses. Some of them could do magic. Today, Warbler Island is charmed with a magical silence spell created by Eagala herself. The queen and her siblings kept their magic a secret for years. One day, when she was still a young girl, Eagala’s oldest brother and sister left to explore the six other islands in our world. But they never returned. Eagala never saw them again. When she grew up she went in search of them, but found hostility at the other islands, so she made a hasty retreat back to Warbler, only to find that her father, the king, had passed away in her absence, and she was the new ruler.”

  Alex and the others listened, spellbound, amazed at Sky’s natural ability as a storyteller, and her ability to speak so well after having been silenced for so long. He found himself admiring her even more.

  Sky continued. “Fearing that her siblings had been killed by hostile enemies, she worried for her people and commissioned the residents of Warbler to dig the tunnels and caves for their own protection, which they did willingly. Soon Warbler appeared to be completely uninhabited, and she added the silent spell over the land not only so that Warblerans could work with concentration, but so no passersby would ever suspect—there is no noise from axes or hammers to be heard anywhere, and everyone was commanded to speak softly when outside. Queen Eagala credits herself for keeping Warbler from attack. But she wanted to be prepared for war, so she began to build a fleet of ships and sailing canoes.” Sky l
ooked around. “There are over a hundred ships hidden in the trees in various stages of completion,” she said.

  “A hundred!” Alex said, eyes wide. And then he frowned. “How many people are there on Warbler, anyway? It can’t be more than a few hundred, can it?”

  Sky looked at him solemnly. “Thousands of people, all hidden underground. Most of them silenced, like us, from the age of ten, and the younger children all housed far below to keep their voices from being heard. It’s like an ant colony, everyone scurrying around in silence, doing their jobs, going from one place to the next.”

  Haluki spoke up. “Did the people also agree to wear the thorn necklaces?” He sounded incredulous.

  Sky shook her head. “No. The thorns are recent within the last several years. People began to revolt against being forced to hide and whisper all the time. When other sailors found their boats drawn to our shores because of the strong current circling our island, Warblerans started sneaking away and emerging from hiding to tell the visitors of the restrictions and try to escape with them.”

  “So Queen Eagala found a way to silence the people completely,” Alex said, wonder in his voice. “How horrible.”

  Sky lifted her chin high and didn’t falter.

  “What about the eyes?” Claire asked from her bed in a weak voice.

  “It’s our brand. Our mark that we belong to Warbler . . . in case we are ever discovered elsewhere,” she said. This time her words were tinged with bitterness. And then she looked down. “I guess the bird thing really was just to scare us, or they wouldn’t have bothered to make our eyes orange. But I think they’ll come after us eventually if they believe we survived our escape. And for that I am really sorry. If you don’t want us to stay here—”

  Claire pushed up on her elbow in alarm and Alex stood up to protest. “Of course you’ll stay here!” he said. “You—and Crow, too—helped fix Artimé. I don’t care what color your eyes are. You guys are Artiméans now.” Alex flushed. “If you want to be, I mean.” He sat back down, feeling like he’d probably just overreacted a bit in his haste to assure them they had to stay. But the thought of them leaving now . . . He caught Claire and Gunnar exchanging smiles and glances, which made him flush even hotter than before.