Island of Fire

by Lisa McMann

  Across the Sea

  Simber turned his head, hearing the cry. “I’ll be rrright back,” he said, and soared over the ship, turning sharply toward the shore. Alex watched him, alarmed, trying to figure out who was standing at the shore. Was it Ms. Morning? What could have happened to bring her out of her bed?

  Simber landed on the sand and spoke a few words to the woman, and then she climbed on his back. Soon they were heading to the ship, and within seconds the woman was dangling from Simber’s neck and dropping to the deck. Alex watched, curious. The woman dusted off her clothes and looked around anxiously.

  “Carina!” Alex cried. He ran over to her and picked her up, twirling her around in a huge circle as the rest of the crew looked on, some with smiles, some with curiosity.

  “Alex,” she said with a wide grin, and then she grabbed his head and kissed him soundly on the cheek.

  He laughed, only a little embarrassed, and happier than he could possibly explain to see Carina Fathom—or rather, Carina Holiday, again. “You came back!” But his delight turned to concern. “Where’s your baby? Is everything okay?”

  “Little Seth is fine,” Carina assured him, smoothing her short locks of light brown hair. “I snuck home to Artimé during the night to see how you were all doing, and lo and behold, I found you back in business! Friends told me at breakfast that you were setting out on this adventure. They said they’d take care of Seth while I’m gone. I didn’t want to miss it. I felt so bad for leaving you like that.”

  “Don’t, please,” Alex said. He gripped her arms and smiled warmly. “You needed to go, and I’m so glad to see you again. You look . . . just . . . great. Doesn’t she, guys?” He turned and looked around, his eyes stopping at Sean, who was staring intensely at Carina. Alex dropped his gaze and smiled a little.

  “It’s good to see you,” Sean said.

  Carina’s face nearly split, she was grinning so hard. “Sean,” she said. She went to him and gave him a big hug. “I missed you.”

  Sean dipped his head, embarrassed. “It’s . . . yeah. I—Me too.”

  Meghan, who had been watching the reunion, cast a glance at Alex and almost laughed. Her brother had a crush on Carina Holiday! She’d had no idea.

  “Sean,” Meghan said. Carina gave a look of surprise at Meghan, who could speak again. “Why don’t you fill Carina in on everything that happened after she left? Alex and I have some planning to do.”

  “We do?” Alex looked at Meghan. “Oh. I mean, yes. We do.” He let Meghan drag him by the arm to a quiet spot on deck below Simber, who only had to flap his wings every now and then to keep up with the lazy speed of the ship. From the corner of his eye, Alex saw Sky standing off to the side with Crow and Henry, watching him. But just as he was about to call out to her, she tugged Crow’s shirt and headed down to a lower deck.

  “Oh,” Alex murmured.

  “What, oh?”

  “Never mind. What’s up?”

  Meghan tilted her head and flashed Alex a quizzical look. “What’s going on with you and her?”

  “Her who?”

  “Sky. Duh.”

  “Nothing.” He didn’t know why he felt guilty.

  “So you still like Lani?” Meghan’s sharp green eyes bored into Alex’s soul.

  “Of course,” Alex said.

  Meghan looked like she didn’t believe him. “You know, if she and Sam are alive, and if we are able to rescue them, it would be really bad timing to suddenly stop liking her.”

  “She’s my friend. I’m not going to stop liking her.”

  “You know what I mean.” Meghan narrowed her eyes.

  “So?”

  “So I’m telling you as your best friend that you shouldn’t do anything dumb. I mean, I really like Sky. She’s great. But it would be really dumb to, you know, like her right now. So maybe you should stop.”

  “I don’t like Sky,” Alex said, growing exasperated. “I still like Lani, okay? I’m not going to— Bah! Whatever, okay? I miss Lani. I miss her like crazy,” he said, and he meant it. “You have no idea how much I miss her and Sam, or how horrible it’s been for me knowing we couldn’t do anything to help them. I don’t even have time to like anybody, okay? Because this dumb job that got forced on me never, ever ends. There’s always some crisis, and there’s always some problem, and there’s always some—”

  “I’m sorry. Wow,” Meghan said. “Calm down.”

  “No! You know what? Who am I kidding? Look at Mr. Today—he left his family to do this job, and he never seemed to have time to like his wife or anybody again, and I know why. It’s because this job is endless. So don’t even talk to me about who I should like or shouldn’t like, because I’ll never be able to have anything resembling . . . that. Ever.” Even as he said it, he began to realize the truth in his words. He made a quick move to his feet, nearly taking a blow to the head from the tip of Simber’s wing. He ducked and shuffled off to go belowdecks. “I’m not going to do anything to hurt Lani’s feelings,” he said over his shoulder. “But she’ll figure out eventually that I’m going to pretty much be a big loner for the rest of my life.”

  He stepped down, barely catching sight of a familiar piece of clothing disappearing around the corner in front of him. He hurried down the step and saw Sky running at full speed toward the bow. He watched for a moment, mouth open, and then he wrinkled up his face and cursed his stupidity under his breath, pounding his forehead against the cabin wall.

  A Small Problem

  An hour into the journey, Alex began meeting with each group to give them a copy of the map and go over the plan. They would arrive by late afternoon and enact the plan before dark—Sky had told them that would probably be the best time. Each group would be responsible for different parts of the plan, and each leader had the authority to call off a part of the plan that wasn’t working.

  They had brought plenty of food along, so everyone ate a hearty lunch as they went over their directions with their leader. Alex sat quietly alone in the spot he’d been sitting in before. Meghan came up to him, apologized, and left again after Alex apologized too. Simber flew overhead, quiet as ever, noticing everything, saying nothing, as was his modus operandi.

  It was midafternoon, after a zillion thoughts had flown through Alex’s head that kept him from concentrating, when Simber spoke.

  “Alex,” he said.

  Alex looked up. “Yes?”

  “Something’s off.”

  Whenever Simber said those words, it was never good.

  “What is it?” Alex said.

  “We’rrre strrraying off courrrse. Just a little. But enough to be a concerrrn.”

  Alex looked up at the sails. “Is it the wind?”

  Simber was quiet for a moment. “No.”

  “Is it the crazy captain?”

  “That would be my firrrst guess.”

  Alex got to his feet. “Thanks. I’ll go talk to him. Though I don’t know what good it’ll do. He doesn’t exactly know how to carry on a conversation.” He made his way to the ship’s wheel. As he grew close, he could hear the mutterings and outbursts of Captain Ahab.

  “Shred my beard and call me Ishmael!” the captain shouted. He leaned heavily on the wheel.

  “Excuse me, Captain,” Alex said. “It seems we’re off course.” He put a hand to his brow to shield the sun. “We need to go to that island over there.”

  “It’s haunted! Teeming with ghoulies.”

  Alex rolled his eyes. “No, it’s not. It’s an island whose people have captured our friends. We need to rescue them,” he said. He was beginning to get nervous. “Where are you taking us?”

  “Crack ye pea-size brain! Not the island, boy, the ship. The ship! She’s of a mind, and the rudder’s in her ghosty grasp.” Ahab grabbed Alex’s shirt with a wild look, and whispered, “ ’Tis the doings of the white whale!”

  Alex’s eyes grew wide in fright, though he wasn’t quite sure what he was frightened of. He tugged his shirt loose from the captai
n’s fist. “Are you saying you can’t get us to the island?”

  “Blast ye to the deadly triangle’s grip!” he cried. “Your words are truth. The proof lies in the wheel.” He leaned hard on the wheel, but the ship didn’t change course. “Haunted, sure as I’m alive. I hear the whispers like a heavy heart about to burst. But look,” he said in a softer, even scarier voice. “She’s tracking yonder, ever bitter, ever seeking. Revenge is in our grasp!”

  Alex stared, openmouthed, not sure what to do or say. Not even sure what was happening. The captain leaned on the wheel in the opposite direction, but the ship stayed steady. Alex looked ahead to where the captain pointed, but he saw nothing but water. Warbler loomed larger to the port side, a good ways off. He knit his brow, trying to make sense of the conversation.

  Finally he turned without a word and hurried back to Simber.

  “We have a problem,” Alex said. “It’s not the captain. I don’t think it is, anyway. He seems to be trying to get us to Warbler, but he thinks . . . he thinks the ship is haunted. And it’s going somewhere on its own power.”

  Simber blinked, but showed no other clue to his thoughts until he spoke. And what he said next spread a chill through Alex’s bones.

  “About thrrree minutes ago,” he said slowly, “as you were talking to the captain, the island beyond Warrrbler disappearrred.”

  Destination: Unknown

  Alex scanned the horizon, and then he remembered he hadn’t seen it when he was talking to the captain. “It—it should be right out here somewhere, shouldn’t it? Is it hidden behind Warbler?” Alex stood on his tiptoes, but he knew that there was no way the island could be hidden at this angle. It should be right in front of them, due west, not out to the port side of the ship, where Warbler was.

  Simber looked grim. “I’ve wonderrred in the past if therrre was something strrrange about that island. Therrre werrre times I couldn’t see it, but I assumed it was because of its distance, the lighting, and the tides. . . . ” He trailed off, lost in thought.

  Alex watched Warbler Island as the pirate ship continued past it. His heart dropped, and he could hear people commenting about it. “I’ll be right back,” he said to Simber.

  He ran down to the deck below. “Sky! Crow!” he called out, knowing he had to put aside what had happened earlier. “Sky? Are you down here?” He raced around the deck, frantically looking for them.

  “Alex?”

  Her voice always surprised him. The husky rasp remained at the edges of her words since the thorn necklace had been removed, and it somehow made her voice more beautiful. He turned, heaving from the run, and saw her eyes were puffy. He felt terrible.

  “Sky,” he said, “I—need you. Can you come with me?”

  She lifted her chin. “Of course,” she said. The words were cool, crisp enough to shatter.

  Ouch. “Thanks—up a deck, to where Simber is flying.”

  Halfway up the stairs, he stopped suddenly and turned. Sky bumped into him.

  “Oh, sorry,” she said, startled. She looked up. They were alone in the stairwell.

  Alex stared at her, her pretty eyes, her smooth brown skin, her hair that was bleached by the sun, and his stomach jumped and crashed around inside his ribs. He lifted his hand and it faltered, and then he swallowed hard and gently pushed a strand of her hair to the side.

  “Look, I’m the one who’s sorry,” he whispered. “I know you heard—earlier—and I want to explain, but there’s no time right now. I just . . . I kind of feel like I’m cracking apart.”

  Her mouth twitched.

  Alex glanced at her lips, and then found her eyes again. He knew his mind had to change gears. He had a huge problem to fix. But he couldn’t just toss aside this thing that consumed his thoughts more often than he wanted to admit. Still, he didn’t know what else to do. “Everything is just so . . . ” He breathed, she blinked, and he forgot what he was going to say.

  Sky didn’t speak. She stood very still, looking at him. And then she reached up, slipped her cool fingers into the hair at Alex’s neck, and pulled his head toward hers. His eyes closed and he felt her mouth press against his for the briefest, weirdest moment as the world swirled around him. Her lips were cool and soft and a little bit wet, and it didn’t feel anything like what he would have expected, which was strangely okay.

  When he opened his eyes, his breath escaped in a tiny huff, and he stared at her, his heart still whirling. “Howowah,” he said, his brain a jumbled mess.

  She raised an eyebrow, a small smile curling at the corner of her lips. “Now,” she said calmly, putting a hand on her hip, “what’s the big dramatic emergency this time?”

  They reached Simber just as Warbler began to grow smaller and move away.

  “Oh,” said Sky, realizing the problem. She frowned and looked to the west. “Where are we going?”

  “We don’t know. The ship seems to have a mind of its own.” Alex sucked in a deep breath and blew it out, trying to calm his twisting insides enough to concentrate on the issue at hand. He didn’t think he could look Simber in the eye for fear of breaking out into a goofy grin.

  “Is there any magic you can do to stop it?”

  “Not that I know of.” Alex racked his brains, but he could think of nothing. “Maybe Ms. Octavia or Florence would have an idea.”

  “It whispers, you know,” Sky said.

  “We know,” Alex said. “Do you know what it’s saying?”

  “No.”

  “No one does.”

  They stood in silence, with Simber flapping overhead now and then, gazing to the west, wondering where they were going. Florence inched toward them at a slow pace, careful not to upset the boat. “What’s going on?” she asked.

  Simber explained the situation with the rogue ship, and Florence tried everything she could think of to release the spell on the ship, if that was what powered it. But nothing happened.

  “And then therrre’s the little prrroblem of the next island,” Simber said, pointing a paw.

  As he said it, Alex’s jaw dropped, for in the distance, water rose from the sea in a giant spout, bursting upward and frothing at the top.

  “Thar she blows!” cried the captain. “The bitter white whale!”

  As the water spout reached its height and began raining down again, a burst of fire exploded from the sea, unaffected by the water. Flames filled the sky, and with a shuddering roar, rocky ground erupted from below the water’s surface, growing taller and wider in the space in front of them. Glowing balls of fire shot up from the center of the rising land, and soon, as the ground rose higher and grew larger, a few sodden, scraggly trees appeared on it, dotting its surface.

  The rising island set in motion a giant wave that headed toward them, growing as it rolled. Captain Ahab shouted, “Batten down and hold yer hats! Whatever wears the shape of evil lies ahead!”

  The Artiméans who had seen it screamed or watched in shock, some of them running below deck for cover and others hanging on to ropes or hiding inside cabinets. The squirrelicorns took flight and rose high above the wave’s height.

  Florence gathered Alex and several others close to her, and called out to a few small statues who didn’t seem to know what to do, grabbing them in her arms.

  Alex didn’t dare blink in case he missed something. He glanced at Sky to see if she was okay. She was craning her neck. “Crow!” she shouted, and scrambled to her feet. “Up the ropes!” They both climbed the sail like seasoned sailors.

  Alex watched in awe. “Aren’t you scared?” he called.

  “Only of the wave!” She and Crow held on tightly and looked down. “I’ve never seen it happen this close up before,” she called out. “Isn’t Pirate Island incredible?”

  Simber, Florence, and Alex looked up at her with surprise, but they didn’t have time to ask questions, for a wall of water rose up in front of the bow. The sky above it lit up with fire, silhouetting the two children who clung tightly to the top of the mast, and before anyone c
ould take a last breath, the boat rose at a precipitous angle, crested, and headed down again, taking their stomachs with it. The next wave slammed into their faces and bodies, and everything that wasn’t battened down went flying.

  Pirate Island

  Alex went tumbling backward and water surged up his nose and mouth, but he didn’t go far before Florence grabbed his shirt once more. As soon as the giant wave passed over them, he scrambled to his feet, a sodden mess, first to see if any more waves were coming, then looking up to make sure Sky and Crow were still hanging on. He was relieved to see them high and dry.

  “Leaders and volunteers to your stations!” he shouted between coughs and sputters. “Count off!” He looked up for Simber but the cat had disappeared. Alex rushed to the side of the ship and peered over, his heart in a clutch. Not again, he thought. Please, no.

  But soon he spied the beast flying low to the water, plucking Artiméans from the sea as if he were picking strawberries. A moment later he returned to the ship and deposited Ms. Octavia, Henry, and the fox statue, who immediately started hopping around in a panic, shouting in a small barking voice, “Where’s kitten? Where’s kitten?”

  “She’s herrre,” Simber said, opening his paw and carefully reaching out to Alex to take her. “Neverrr even hit the waterrr,” he said with pride.

  “Mewmewmew,” said the tiny cat, in the most adorable voice Alex had ever heard.

  “She says she wants to be with me,” the fox said.

  Simber smirked but said nothing.

  Alex set the delicate white kitten on the fox’s back, where he’d seen her napping earlier, and the fox settled down. “Is that everyone? Henry, Ms. Octavia, are you all right?” Henry sputtered and nodded. Alex reached a hand to Ms. Octavia and helped his instructor to her tentacles.

  “It was a lovely swim,” Ms. Octavia said, no stranger to the water. “Simber?”

  “I was prrreparrred and watching. I got everrryone I saw.”