by Nadia Aguiar
A turquoise swell lifted the Pamela Jane and Simon felt as if he were flying. Maya shouted joyfully and Penny began hopping up and down with excitement. Simon ran to the wheel and turned the Pamela Jane to head toward the green mote, already growing bigger. The wind was in their favor and the ivory sails billowed. Brilliant schools of fish, bright as parrots, swished past the sunny yellow hull. As they drew closer, the island seemed to expand like a sponge, growing before their eyes into soaring hills and valleys, green as jade against the airy white mists breaking upon the shores.
In another half hour they were close enough that through his binoculars Simon could see gannets diving from sheer cliffs and turtles basking on sand twinkling with ophalla dust. Schools of flying fish emerged from the darkness of the jungle, sparkled in the sunlight for a moment, then dissolved back into the canopy. Birds perched along swaybacked palms and a family of long-tailed monkeys swung from branch to branch along the jungle’s edge. It was as he had dreamed of it each night for so long after they had returned to the Outside. He felt his heart catch in his throat.
“Home,” Helix said softly.
Maya lifted Penny up so she could get a better view. The last time she had seen Tamarind, she had been a baby, strapped to a sling around Maya’s shoulder. Now her nose quivered, smelling the cinnamon and nutmeg, the fruit trees and the hot jungle air that came to them across the water, and very old memories stirred in her.
The wind was changing direction and Simon called to Maya to help him as they approached a green head of land jutting out from the island. This time they did not arrive in the Lesser Islands, with the secluded green coves and the vines that swam in the air like tentacles. Instead, to Simon’s surprise, what now came into view as they rounded the head was a great, glittering city built upon a sweeping hillside. A monumental stone fortress loomed on its highest point. From a distance its flags seemed frozen stiffly in the air, but through the binoculars Simon could see that they waved furiously in the wind. A long coastal road led in and out of the city.
“Hey…” said Maya. “Can I have the binoculars?” Simon tossed them to her and a moment later she looked back up, excited. “I remember that road—I’m sure I do! I walked it on my way to find you and Penny!” She passed the binoculars to Helix. “It’s the capital,” she said. “It’s Maracairol! Isabella lives here—this is perfect!”
But Helix didn’t share her enthusiasm. “It is Maracairol,” he said, squinting at the shore. “But I don’t think we should land here. Let’s go somewhere more out of the way until we figure out what’s going on.”
“But why?” asked Maya. “We couldn’t have landed in a better spot.”
“We don’t know what’s happened here since we left,” said Helix soberly. “We don’t know what the Red Coral are doing or where they are on the island. Maracairol may not be safe.” He touched the knife on his belt and looked darkly at the city as it grew closer.
Simon’s initial joy began to fade as reluctantly he remembered why they had come. Helix was right. They had no idea what was happening in Tamarind.
“I agree,” he said. “Better to be on the safe side.” He steered to starboard to find a quiet place to come ashore. The winds drove them around the head, and as they sailed into its cool shadow Penny was the first to notice the bloated carcass of a dimly glowing fish drifting by. As they watched, the creature bumped gently into the lifeless form of an octopus. Its arms, so tangled and busy in life, were now stretched out flat like a starfish’s. When Simon looked up he saw shadows of countless other creatures nodding limply in the dark green water.
“Why are they all dead?” asked Penny.
Simon remembered the reports of glowing marine life washing up at home. Helix had said their parents believed they were coming from Tamarind.
“Can they really be getting to the Outside somehow?” murmured Maya.
“I don’t understand how,” said Simon, frowning. “The Blue Line should stop them.” But it seemed too much of a coincidence. Simon wished that his father had talked to him about his concerns and that he knew more. The dead creatures felt like a bad omen.
The children were so absorbed by the lifeless army floating past that the violent explosion from shore startled even Helix. Penny cowered behind Maya. Simon’s first thought was that they were being fired on.
“Take Penny belowdecks!” he said quickly.
“Wait,” said Helix. “The explosion was too big—it’s not a cannon. I don’t think it had anything to do with us.”
They listened as the sound echoed in the hills and slowly faded. A dark cloud of smoke rose deep in the jungle, casting a shadow over treetops that moments before had been gleaming in the sun. Then Simon noticed that there were other, similar clouds here and there, going deeper into the island, previous explosions whose clouds were now turning white and thinning. The birds roosting in the palms took flight and a lone yellow jaguar prowling the shore turned and vanished into the jungle, leaving not a soul on the beaches. The bitter scent of smoke wafted across the water.
“What do you think it is?” asked Maya.
“I don’t know,” said Helix. “But we have a bigger problem—look.”
The next time the Pamela Jane reached the crest of a swell Simon saw a pair of clipper ships under full canvas, making their way at speed toward the Pamela Jane from the direction of Maracairol.
“Is it pirates?” Maya asked anxiously.
Simon fumbled with his binoculars. “I don’t think they’re pirates,” he said in relief. “It looks like soldiers on board—I’m guessing they’re military ships.”
“I have a bad feeling about this,” said Helix. “Can we make a run for it?”
Simon shook his head. “They’re much bigger than us. They’d overtake us in no time.”
In minutes the clipper ships had drawn a hundred yards on starboard and port of the Pamela Jane. The soldiers’ shouts—too far away to hear distinctly—were clearly intended to direct them in to shore. Simon took a last glance at the soup of dead creatures sloshing in the current before he turned his attention back to sailing between the two ships.
The winds led them in easily and soon they entered Maracairol’s harbor. Coral glinted in the seawalls. Fishermen, skin copper from the sun, were hauling in nets of silver fish that slapped wetly against the stone docks. Blots of shadow wagged beneath palms bent permanently in the wind. The air had again cleared of smoke. They were instructed to tie the Pamela Jane to a mooring a few hundred feet from shore, and a large rowboat with two armed guards met them.
“Get in,” barked one of the soldiers.
“We’re friends of Isabella Obrado,” called Maya.
“Outsiders have no friends here!” snapped the guard.
Maya’s smile faded, and Simon felt the first twinges of doubt. He looked to Helix.
“Don’t talk for now,” whispered Helix. “Where are you taking us?” he called to the guard.
“Ashore,” said the soldier. “To the president.”
The president? There had been no president when they had last been in Tamarind. There had been only war and chaos.
“Why would someone as important as a president want to see us?” Simon whispered.
“No more talking,” snapped the other soldier. “Get in the boat.”
Simon felt uneasy leaving the Pamela Jane like that, but there was nothing they could do. They would be back to her soon. Taking their backpacks with them, they stepped into the rowboat. Penny climbed dutifully into Maya’s lap, where she sat quiet as a mouse while they were rowed to shore, where more soldiers awaited them on the beach.
“What should we do?” Simon asked Helix in a low voice.
“Just do what they say for now until we find out what’s going on,” said Helix under his breath.
Flanked by soldiers, the children were led up steep, mossy steps to the city. The steps were huge for Penny’s short legs, so Helix and Simon took her hands to help her. Soon the strenuous climb was all Simon c
ould think about. When at last they reached the top, the soldiers stopped to mop the sweat from their faces and the children stood there breathing heavily, looking around them in surprise.
Maracairol had undergone a transformation in the years since they had left, and now they looked upon smooth streets, windows flung open, and walls freshened with new coats of paint. The war over, the rubble of destroyed buildings had been carted off, and tidy green parks created where they had stood. People moved busily along the streets. Children slurped on watermelon in doorways and workers balanced bamboo baskets of cassava and dragonfruit and great spiky durians from farms outside the city. A fisherman’s wife went past, hawking strings of pungent sardines rolled in shimmering crusts of salt.
But as Simon followed the soldiers through the narrow, winding streets, it quickly became clear to him that something was awry. The parks were crowded with people living in makeshift tents. Women cooked over open fires in the gardens. The city gates were clogged with caravans of people, their belongings bundled precariously high on wobbly carts. Why were they coming here? What had happened? The new arrivals wandered up and down, faces eerily blank, searching for a spare few feet of earth where they could settle. Many of them struck camp in already crowded dead-end alleys. Simon caught a whiff of fetid air each time they passed one.
He realized they were being taken up to the imposing fortress that sat above the city. A single high watchtower loomed over one corner, casting a thin, cold river of shadow down the hillside. There were no windows except for a row spaced along the top of the high, thick walls. As they reached the hilltop, the powerful wind that flapped the flags overhead dried the sweat from their skin. Maya shivered suddenly. Simon looked down to the town far below, where even now more tents were going up, blooming like mushrooms in the crowded squares. Then the fortress’s massive wooden gate swung open a few feet and the newcomers were ushered unceremoniously inside and the gate was swiftly closed behind them. Penny jumped as a heavy bolt slid loudly—chunk—into place.
“I don’t like this,” she whispered. Simon squeezed her hand.
Inside, the wind dropped away at once and they found themselves standing in an eerily deserted courtyard. The guard led them beneath a portico and through a series of rooms and stone corridors. It seemed increasingly clear that this president they were going to see had purposefully secreted himself away deep within the fortress.
They mounted a winding staircase that seemed to twist around forever, growing narrower and narrower and more and more claustrophobic. Finally they reached a small wooden door and were led into the circular room at the top of the tower. The floor was made of polished ophalla that looked like ice that never melted. On all sides of the room, open windows overlooked the city and surrounding jungle and the broad sweep of the sea. A figure stood at the window, her back to them.
“Madam President,” said one of the soldiers, “your visitors are here.”
The person who turned to face the children was tall, with long, jet-black hair caught in a clip made out of a tough seashell. Her face was young and unlined, and she had a sharp jaw and piercing eyes that looked down the bridge of a nose grown too long to be pretty. In her crimson, flowing pants and shirt, she looked like she belonged to a different world from them. Beside her a gold telescope pointed out to sea.
Simon heard Maya gasp softly. “Isabella…?” she asked in amazement. “It’s you! You’re the president?”
A brief glimmer passed over the young woman’s face—pain or worry—but she answered briskly. “I am,” she said.
Unlike Maya and Helix, Simon had only seen Isabella fleetingly the last time he had been in Tamarind. Back then, she and Maya had borne a striking resemblance to each other, but any similarity they shared had been left behind in youth. But even though Isabella looked both sharper and harder than his sister, she was still only Maya’s age. How could she be in charge of Tamarind?
Though Isabella remained impeccably composed, the color rose to her cheeks when her gaze paused on Helix. An expression flickered across her eyes, fast as a shadow, too quick to be readable, and then her gaze roved on to the others.
“We were hoping to find you, and here you are!” said Maya. “I was scared when the ships came to get us—I wish we’d known you had sent them!”
But Isabella looked at them coldly. “When the spotters saw your boat coming in I thought it was another Red Coral vessel,” she said. “Then you got closer and I saw the name of your ship and all of you on it. Why are you here?”
The children had expected a warm reception from their old friend, but now Simon saw that it wasn’t going to be that easy. Maya stood there, looking awkward and increasingly bewildered. Simon met Helix’s eye and Helix gave him a look that meant he didn’t know any more than they did.
“We’ve come to help,” said Maya, more timidly. “We heard that the Red Coral Project had found a way to get to Tamarind, and that the island was in trouble. We’re here to help stop them.”
“Yes, the Red Coral are here,” said Isabella. “But you’re late—they arrived here nearly a year ago, in a huge metal ship … Only I’m not concerned with them for the moment—how have you managed it? So few Outsiders ever make it to Tamarind, but to return?” She paused. “How do I know you’re not Red Coral yourselves?”
“Of course we aren’t Red Coral!” said Maya indignantly.
“Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t,” said Isabella. “Outsiders are Outsiders—how am I supposed to tell you apart?”
“But don’t you remember?” asked Maya. “We helped you before.”
Isabella shrugged. Her thin, narrow shoulders were so tense they seemed brittle. “That was a long time ago.”
Simon could see that this wasn’t going well. Maya was already frazzled and Helix was looking quietly furious. There was nothing Helix hated as much as feeling trapped, and Isabella had already held him prisoner once before. Afraid that things would quickly go from bad to worse, Simon tried to sound as friendly and reasonable as he could. “Well,” he said, “you know that we’re not with the Red Coral because Helix is a Tamarinder.”
“Yes,” said Isabella bitterly. “A Tamarinder who has been to the Outside, and lived among Outsiders.” She turned to Helix who glared back at her.
“I think this is a misunderstanding,” Simon began to say when a violent explosion in the distance made them all jump and turn to face the windows.
The initial boom was followed by a sound like thunder, rumbling toward them. A few seconds later a hot wind blew from a few miles away and rolled out across the city. It rushed through the windows of the tower with a whoosh. In the town below flags beat against themselves, the boats in the harbor pitched and their masts clacked together and their ropes groaned, and palm trees bowed and thrashed their fronds against the hot, bright sky. The burning odor that Simon had smelled earlier was stronger now, and he and Maya put their hands up to cover their noses. Penny coughed.
“What was that?” asked Maya.
“That was the Red Coral,” said Isabella. “They’re blasting for ophalla. They’re right outside the city now.”
Simon could see that she was angry and frightened. “Please,” he said. “I promise you, we came here to help.”
Isabella looked at him dully. “At first we had an agreement with the Red Man, but he broke it months ago,” she said. “Most of the old villages were built on ophalla deposits, and now the Red Coral men are evicting people and tearing down homes and burning jungle to reopen the mines. Just a few months ago there was only a trickle of people arriving in Maracairol—now they’re pouring in. We can’t protect them. Soon we’re not going to be able to feed them, either.”
Suddenly all the people they’d seen coming into the city made sense.
“They’re taking over more and more of Tamarind,” said Isabella. “They’ve hired the Maroong—a people from the East who have always been mercenaries. They’re ferocious warriors—they shave their heads and paint them, and people are te
rrified of them. Four days ago they kidnapped my mother and brother. I’m the acting president only—taking over for my mother, who was made president during Reconstruction after the war. We don’t know where she is.” She paused, then said softly, “I know they’re coming for me next.”
For a moment Isabella looked as young as she really was. Simon thought how strange it was to see someone their own age with such responsibility.
“I’m sorry,” said Maya, looking genuinely upset. “We want to help. We’ll do whatever we can—”
“You can’t help,” said Isabella in frustration. “Milagros is the only one who can.” She turned to Helix.
There was a tap at the door then.
“Come in!” Isabella called briskly.
A guard came in, holding what appeared to be a large cage, draped in a lemon yellow silk cloth, which hung on the end of a pole. From inside the cage came muffled scratching and murmuring sounds. Whatever was in it wanted freedom desperately. In two strides Helix was across the room. He threw back the cloth and in a flash he had unlatched the door of the cage and an angry green blur burst out. The parrot flew violently around the room twice, diving viciously at Isabella, before coming to land on Helix’s shoulder. Helix swiftly untied the string that bound the parrot’s beak shut.
Rrrraaaaaaack! squawked the bird, sounding like an unoiled hinge, but lifting her satiny jade cape of wings so they rose over her, majestic and intimidating. Rrraaaaack!
“Seagrape!” cried Simon and Maya.
“Seagrape,” whispered Penny, gazing in fascination at the bird she only remembered from stories.
Helix ran his fingers over the parrot’s wings, her head and neck, her talons, but she was unharmed. She made soft grumbling sounds and gnawed his knuckles gently.
“So she is yours,” said Isabella, unable to hide her excitement. “I remember you, when you were tossed off the pirate ship four years ago and I had you put in jail. I knew then she was a bird of Milagros—I saw the tattoo beneath her wing!”
“What are you talking about, she’s a bird of Milagros?” Helix asked angrily. “Why do you have her?” Seagrape nuzzled his neck and he stroked her feathers gently.
