Curse of the Forgotten City

by Alex Aster

  Melda shook her head. “I don’t believe you,” she said. “Why wouldn’t you tell us?”

  “You already didn’t trust me. I thought if I told you the truth, you would find another way to the pearl, one without me. You were my best chance at finding my brother—and stopping him.”

  “So, you used us,” Tor said.

  Vesper laughed without humor. “Only as much as you used me. You don’t think I knew you were going to leave me somewhere once you found a way to the pearl that didn’t require a Swordscale? You used me for the compass, to even get this far.” Her eyes narrowed. “And don’t pretend you all have been perfectly honest. You’re not even honest with each other.”

  Engle took a step forward. “Now that’s where you’re wrong.”

  Vesper stood her ground. “Ask your friends about your nightmares, then.”

  Tor froze. Next to him, Melda quietly gasped.

  Engle turned to face them. “What does she mean?”

  “It’s nothing,” Melda said. “We made an elixir for you. To help you.”

  “What?” The sightseer’s face twisted. “You gave me an elixir without telling me?”

  “You wouldn’t talk about it,” Tor said. “You were suffering. We just wanted to help. And it worked.”

  Engle backed away from them. “By going behind my back? Both of you?”

  Melda’s eyes were wide. “Don’t you see what she’s trying to do? She’s trying to distract us, divide us—”

  “I’m not doing anything,” Vesper said. “You three are so quick to judge me, to mistrust me, but if you all looked deep within yourselves, I’m sure there is something you’ll each find there that you have been keeping from your best friends. For good reasons, I’m sure. Just like I had mine. This is my brother.” She kept her head high. “I would do anything to protect him, far worse things than I’ve already done. And I’m sure you three can understand that, too.”

  She walked across the deck, then stopped just short of the stairs.

  “I lied, I stole, and I know how it must look—but I’m not working with them. I want to find the pearl and keep it out of the hands of the Calavera just as much as you do.”

  * * *

  Engle wouldn’t speak to them. Even after Tor had made a feast appear that ran the entire length of the deck, he stayed below.

  After dinner, Tor made an entire platter of desserts appear in Engle’s room, with his favorites: sapphire pie, emerald-cream meringue, diamond-dusted doughnuts. But a few moments later, Tor heard Engle’s door slam shut and found the plate of sweets outside.

  Melda and Tor sat on the deck, wrapped in layers of fabric, both unable to sleep.

  “For a long time, I disliked him,” she said staring at the moon, just a crescent in the sky. “Even before I knew him. Engle.”

  “Why?”

  She sighed. “I was so excited to start school, so proud to be a leader. I knew how rare it was, and, when I learned there would only be one other person in my class, it made me even more excited.”

  Tor gave her a look. “Melda, you hated having me in leadership.”

  She scowled at him. “Would you let me finish?” She took a breath. “School was always a welcome relief. I love my brothers, and I’m glad they’re better now, but I didn’t always want to be home. I never really got to play or make friends, because my mom always needed help with them. School was different. I had to go. So, when I saw only one other person in leadership, I thought—” She cut off and rolled her eyes, like she was embarrassed. “But then, I saw you with him. You already had a best friend. You two ate lunch together every day, even when everyone else sat with their emblems. So…I disliked him.”

  “Melda, I had no idea.”

  “I know, I know. I’m not saying this to guilt you. I’m saying it because I get it. I get why you’ve been friends with Engle for so long. I know he’s family to you.”

  Engle was family. Since his parents worked far from Estrelle, at the Alabaster Caves, he stayed most nights at the Lunas’ house. Engle came to every dinner, was there for every breakfast.

  “I’ve underestimated him plenty of times.” She looked tentatively at Tor. “I think we both have.”

  He realized she was right. Tor still saw Engle as the joking, class clown kid he had been in the first few years of their friendship. But Engle was so much more than that. He was fiercely loyal…and cunning, when he wanted to be.

  For the last year, Tor had been obsessed with swimming and waiting for Eve to make his wish. He wondered if that had put a wedge between him and his best friend. Tor knew Engle better than anyone else, yet still was surprised when he had admitted to being affected by the Lake of the Lost.

  The last month, Tor had been focused on his own pain. His own regret. His own anger at what the Night Witch had done to him. He should have asked if Engle was all right. Tor should have realized that his friend had been hiding his hurt behind jokes and laughs. He had done it before, whenever he was upset that his parents were always away.

  “Melda,” he said suddenly. “Are you okay?”

  She blinked at him. “No. Not really…” She swallowed. “But if we all get home in one piece, I’ll find a way to be.”

  They stayed on the deck all through the night, trading stories about Engle, until the sightseer surfaced. It was barely dawn.

  Melda and Tor stood immediately. He stepped forward. “We’re sorry. We never should have never done it behind your back. We should have talked to you about it.”

  Engle nodded. “Yeah, you should have.”

  There were a few moments of silence.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Melda asked, voice quiet. “The Lake of the Lost?”

  The sightseer stared down at the deck for a little while, biting the inside of his mouth. Then, he nodded.

  Engle sat down next to them and frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever been afraid of anything, not really.” He shrugged. “I never thought about dying.”

  Tor knew as much. During their last journey, Engle had been the bravest of them all.

  “But then the Lake of the Lost happened, and I thought I was going to die. I thought that was it, I was a goner. It hurt, and I was afraid. Really afraid.” Engle lolled his head back and stared up at the sky. The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon. “When we got back, things weren’t the same. Mom was home for a little while, and I pretended to be okay because I wanted her to go back to the Alabaster Caves. But I’m not. Every night, I dream of it. Every single night, I get dragged down into the lake by the bonesulkers.”

  Melda took his hand. “How can we help you?”

  He shrugged. “Just…this,” he said. “Talking about it. We…” He swallowed. “We didn’t really talk about it afterward.”

  Tor realized he was right. They would meet up at the beach most mornings, but mostly sit in silence. Lost in their own thoughts.

  They had each dealt with the aftermath of their journey alone.

  Tor nodded. “I promise to talk about it all from now on. Even the bad stuff.”

  “Me too,” Melda said.

  Engle smiled. “Me three.”

  “Which reminds me,” Tor said. “There’s some more…bad stuff.” He told them everything the truthteller said. By the end, Engle and Melda were both pale and silent.

  “So that’s it, one of us is going to die?” Melda said, looking somewhere past Tor.

  It felt like a knife was being twisted in his stomach. The lump in his throat made it impossible to talk. He nodded.

  Engle bowed his head. “I don’t want to die,” he said softly. “But if it’s this way, saving one of you or Estrelle, that would be all right.”

  A tear slid down Melda’s cheek. She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to keep going. I—I don’t want one of us to die. Not if we’re going to fail anyway.”<
br />
  Tor imagined Engle was going to call Melda a hypocrite. But Engle surprised him by sighing. “Mel, we have to at least try. Estrelle is counting on us.”

  Melda’s bottom lip quivered. “But she’s the truthteller. And she said one of us would die and we won’t get the pearl. What the point?”

  “You know what? What if the pearl is destroyed? What if it doesn’t even exist? What if we find something else that can save Estrelle or defeat the Calavera?” Engle sighed. “There are a thousand possibilities that fit the prophecy. And if, in the end, we still stop them from invading Emblem Island, then it’s worth it. We can’t give up now.”

  Melda blinked. “Since when are you the voice of reason?”

  Engle grinned. “When our voice of reason isn’t being reasonable.”

  Tor laughed, just a little. But inside, his chest felt like it was concaving. Because even though he had made the decision to charge forward whatever the cost, he couldn’t imagine living without one of his best friends.

  Isla Pomme

  When pirates die, they hope to go to Isla Pomme, a place made completely of treasure. The sand is gold dust. The water is miles of strung-together sapphires. Goblets never run dry. The sun never burns. The creatures never bite.

  And some are lucky enough to visit Isla Pomme while still living. It is said that when a want is bright enough, the island will appear, to offer a bargain to those desperate enough to take it.

  Once, a pirate’s wife drowned, and he missed her so much, Isla Pomme revealed itself, with a way to bring her back. Without hesitation, he inked his name in blood, linking his life to the contract. He was reunited with his love, but at a cost.

  He had to replace the life the sea had lost.

  When the man and wife had a child, the ocean called in its debt.

  Pirates still hunt the island, searching for a heaven that does not always require death. Though, more times than not, death is the cost. Isla Pomme shows what a person wants most, tempting them to take it.

  And if they do, they must make a vow, and promise not to break it.

  17

  Dreamwalker

  Tor, Melda, and Engle had talked until the sun came out and Captain Forecastle surfaced, frowning. “You three cost us beauty sleep,” he said. He pointed beneath his eyes, where two impressive purple rings had formed. “Just look at ’em! Look at ’em!” He hobbled over to their group, then bent down, a hand cupped to the side of his mouth. “So, we getting rid of the waterbreather?”

  Melda glared at him. “I suppose second chances only apply to you then?”

  Captain Forecastle straightened. “Second chances? Ye who dislike her so dearly are so quick to forgive?”

  She laughed without humor. “Forgive? No. But I will admit, if she isn’t completely lying to us, I understand her.” She sighed. “I would do absolutely anything for my brothers.”

  “I think she is telling the truth,” Tor said. Melda shot him a look. “The compass, when she held it, led us to Perla. I don’t think it was because she lost focus. I think it was leading us to her brother.”

  Engle nodded. “Something she lost. Makes sense, I guess.”

  Captain Forecastle let out a low whistle. “Another strike against her! She almost hand-delivered ye to yer enemies! Now, if it hadn’t been for our arrows…”

  They had discussed it at length, finally coming to the conclusion that, good intentions or not, they could not trust Vesper. She would surely choose her brother over them, if it came to that.

  Still, leaving her behind now, so far north, would be a death sentence. So they decided to proceed with caution and watch her very carefully.

  “She’s staying,” Tor said.

  Captain Forecastle shook his head. “Yer kindness will cost ye out here, it always does. Everyone, absolutely everyone, only cares about ’emselves.” He snorted “Might as well have a fortunetelling emblem, us! Can tell ye for certain, if ye want to predict a person’s next actions, just think of what they want most. They’ll do whatever gets ’em closer to it.” He walked away murmuring, “What if we’d been kind to the thief who nearly lopped our head off! Or the sea beast that wanted our arm?”

  Tor made breakfast appear so Forecastle would stop talking. He also put a platter in Vesper’s room, expecting she wouldn’t surface.

  But, surprisingly, she did, just as they finished eating.

  Her face solemn, she flung open the shell charm. The map spilled to her ankles, and spread, coating the deck in color. It was only snow and ice as far as the eye could see.

  “The compass changed directions,” she said, showing it to them. For days, its needle had pointed north. Now, it pointed east.

  Tor looked at the map, searching for any landmarks in that direction. And he found that if they kept going, they would reach only one place.

  The very northern tip of Emblem Island.

  Finally—a destination.

  A chill danced down Tor’s spine. “How far?”

  “We’ll be there tomorrow afternoon.”

  Tor nearly collapsed in relief. Melda’s arenahora was nearly out of sand. Their time was almost up. If they were going to find the pearl and save Estrelle before the ice melted, it needed to be tomorrow.

  Vesper lingered. She looked like she was trying to make a decision. Tor could practically see her mind spinning behind her eyes.

  Finally, she turned to Engle with a sigh. “I know you don’t trust me. But I think I can help you. As a peace offering.”

  “Help him with that?” Melda said, her voice poisonous.

  “His nightmares. The elixir you made will only last so long. Dreams like these don’t just go away by themselves overnight.”

  Engle looked down at his empty plate. “How?”

  Vesper snapped a charm off her bracelet, then made it grow in her palm. It was a star with silk string across its inside, like an instrument “This is a captura,” she said. “My mother made it for me when I was a child and enchanted it with her emblem.”

  “What was her marking?” Tor asked gently.

  “She was a dreamwalker. She could go into anyone’s mind as they slept, to see what they saw, and to interfere, if she wanted.”

  Engle eyed the mysterious star. “This will keep me from having nightmares?”

  She shook her head. “No. It simply traps your worst dreams in its strings. So a dreamwalker might visit them with you, to change them…and hopefully stop the nightmares at their source.”

  “But none of us are dreamwalkers,” Melda said. There was an edge to her voice. “Unless you have a third emblem you haven’t told us about.”

  Vesper sighed. It looked as if she was working very hard to keep from having another fight with Melda. “My mother enchanted it, so we might be able to use her power to go into one of his dreams. Once.” She turned to Engle. “That is, if that’s what you would like.”

  Engle bit his lip, thinking. He eyed the web, then Tor. Then Melda. “Okay,” he finally said. “Will it hurt?”

  Vesper shrugged. “Not physically.” She stroked the captura like playing the strings of a harp, and it created a melody, dark and melancholy. “It’s been trapping dreams this whole time, since you’ve been in proximity to it,” she said, not stopping her song. “Just close your eyes, as I find Engle’s worst. Just close your eyes, and focus on the music…”

  Vesper’s voice fell away, and Tor was sucked forward, toward the captura, with a flash of wind. Part of himself had been peeled off, and he felt his body fall onto the deck behind him with a loud thump.

  Then, he was spinning, skin cold as ice, his head filled with clouds and cobwebs. There was another wind, one that pulled him down, and then he landed somewhere solid, legs buckling beneath him.

  When he opened his eyes, he saw himself across a body of water.

  They were at the Lake of the Lo
st. Melda had just traded the blue color of her eyes to a goblin in exchange for use of his boat. They had just started paddling, unaware of the creatures that lurked below, circling them, readying their attack.

  He heard Melda gasp. She wasn’t just in the boat, she was also standing next to Tor above the Lake of the Lost. They watched themselves make their way across the water.

  “Welcome to my nightmare,” Engle whispered from Tor’s other side, eyes fixed in front of him.

  They were still rowing, but Tor saw something move below. Something he and his friends in the boat were blissfully unaware of.

  Engle shook—his teeth clattered together, his words stumbled. “It’s—it’s coming,” he said beneath his breath. “It—”

  Tor stepped in front of him. “It doesn’t kill you,” he said. “Melda saved you, remember?” He pointed at her face. “She gave up her drop of color, for you.”

  Melda took Engle’s hand, then Tor’s. “I would do it a million times over because you lived, Engle. And the bonesulkers will never hurt you again. I swear it.”

  Engle swallowed. “I know. I just can’t stop seeing them, feeling their nails cut across…” He shivered, and his hands gripped his chest.

  There was a scream. Tor turned in time to see one of the bonesulkers reach into the boat and pull Engle out by his neck. He was gone in an instant.

  Engle fell to his knees, mouth open, hands shaking at his sides.

  From their view, Tor could see underwater. Could see the bonesulkers dragging Engle down, down, down. Could see his friend, reaching up for help.

  Tor knelt, trying to sink into the water, but it was hard as glass beneath him. He watched Engle get pulled deeper below, watched his friend struggle. And he couldn’t help him. He banged on the water, knowing it wasn’t real, but still unable to just sit and do nothing.

  Engle, beside him, was silent, eyes wide as he watched himself nearly die.