The Journey to Dragon Island

by Claire Fayers

  Cassie tipped her hat back and watched the shore approach. “It’s an island. I don’t expect it cares much one way or the other.”

  Brine’s face was fixed in a bright, worried smile and she held her sword across her knees, gripping it with both hands. Ewan Hughes had given them all fighting lessons and Brine was best—the only one of them who was any good at all, really. Tom held a sword like it was a pen, and Peter was always too worried he’d actually hit someone, even though Ewan assured him the chances of that were roughly the same as fish growing legs.

  The boat nosed into the sand at the water’s edge. Cassie jumped straight out and drew her cutlass. Peter helped Ewan drag the boat farther up the shore, and looked for somewhere to tie it. He didn’t like the look of the trees—their trunks were twisted in odd shapes, and the moss that patched their branches looked like fur.

  Tom bent down and scooped up a handful of yellow sand. “It glitters,” he said.

  Small flecks of gold caught the sunlight. Peter grinned. “Gold. Gold means dragons, doesn’t it? Let’s go look for them.”

  Cassie put her cutlass away. “We’ll split into two parties. Ewan, Trudi, and Brine, you’re with me. Rob, Bill, Tom, and Peter, you’re in charge of guarding the boats here until we return.”

  She spoke so briskly that it took a moment or two for Peter to realize what she’d said. His grin froze.

  Tom threw his pack down. “That’s not fair!”

  Rob Grosse scowled and folded his arms. “I didn’t row all the way here just so I could babysit a boat!”

  “You didn’t row—I did,” said Trudi with the smugness of someone who knew she was in the exploring party. “We’re down to our last two boats thanks to all of you. What if they get stolen by marauding islanders while we’re all off exploring?”

  “You stay behind, then, if you’re so worried,” growled Rob.

  Trudi’s cheeks turned pink. “We need supplies. I have to look around and decide whether anything here is safe to eat.”

  Peter walked past Cassie to the boats and sat down. When Cassie got an idea in her head, a herd of rhinocerbeast wouldn’t shift it. Arguing with her was a waste of time. Besides, he had the start of an idea—a plan, even.

  “Fine,” he said loudly, avoiding Brine’s gaze. “We’ll stay here. I bet you won’t find anything interesting anyway.”

  Brine dug her toes into the sand. Cassie gave Peter a narrow look and he ducked his head, wondering if she’d guessed what he was thinking. But Trudi and Ewan were already starting eagerly toward the trees.

  “Rob and Bill, stay here,” said Cassie. “That’s an order. Right, let’s go and explore. And, Brine, try to look like you’re enjoying yourself. This is an adventure.”

  CHAPTER 7

  The first rule of adventuring is: Be Prepared. Be prepared to fight. Be prepared to run. Be prepared for anything.

  (from BRINE SEABORNE’S BOOK OF PLANS)

  Brine didn’t say anything as she followed Cassie into the trees. There wasn’t much point arguing with Cassie, for a start. And, besides, Brine had seen the look in Peter’s eyes as he’d sat down: He wasn’t going to stay meekly on the beach. She just hoped he didn’t find dragons before she did. She tripped on a knot of grass and narrowly avoided landing in a bramble patch.

  “So, what’s the plan?” she asked, slapping away several large, bright-blue flies. “Stumble about until we’re eaten alive by insects?”

  “Unless we’re eaten alive by dragons first,” said Cassie cheerfully. “You’re the chief planner. What do you think?”

  Brine slapped more flies away. “I don’t know? I suppose we could look around and see what’s here, and run away fast if we get into trouble.”

  “Sounds like a good plan,” said Cassie.

  Brine tried to ignore the hammering in her chest. She’d never known Cassie to be cautious before. They were pirates: They didn’t run away from trouble; they caused it. With cutlasses, usually. She gripped her sword hilt, trying to feel like a pirate, but her fingers were stuck together with sweat, and the cloud of insects above her head kept growing.

  The branches above her rustled, and she looked up in time to see a brown tail disappearing into the canopy of leaves. Not a dragon—it had hair, not scales. Still, it was her first glimpse of an animal on Dragon Island.

  “It’s too quiet,” complained Ewan a moment later. “I don’t like it.”

  “I’d be quiet if a bunch of well-dressed strangers were tramping over my island,” said Cassie.

  “No, you wouldn’t,” said Ewan. “You’d rush out yelling and waving something sharp and pointy. The only reason you’d be quiet is if you were planning an ambush … not that you ever plan.”

  “We have a plan now, don’t we?” Cassie said pointedly. “Brine thought of one. We look around and run away if there’s trouble.”

  Brine walked on, listening to them bicker. Every rustle, every snap of a twig sounded like someone lying in wait and, with every second that passed, Brine was less eager to meet them. She’d been six years old when she was found in the Atlas Ocean on the other side of the world and, until a few months ago, she hadn’t left the island cluster of Minutes. She only had Marfak West’s word that this was her home. What if he’d lied—or worse, what if he’d told the truth but no one here remembered her or wanted her back? She’d been gone for over three years, after all.

  “Mushrooms!” exclaimed Trudi, pointing to some bulging red-and-white stalks. “I wonder if they’re edible?”

  Brine pulled the pirate along before Trudi could decide to find out. Then she heard another sound, on and off through the trees. She recognized it at once because she lived with it every day—the rush of water. She paused. “Listen.”

  Cassie and Ewan were still arguing about how they’d plan an ambush. Brine threw a stick at Cassie and she leaped around, her cutlass half out.

  “Will you stop that?” said Brine. “I think I can hear a river.”

  They all paused. For a second or two Brine forgot about the sticky heat, the bramble scratches, and the annoying insects still circling around her head.

  “Do dragons live by rivers?” asked Trudi.

  Cassie pushed her cutlass home. “I don’t know, but people do. Come on.”

  They hurried on, walking faster. The ground soon began to slope downward and the undergrowth thinned, becoming patchy with more clusters of mushrooms and even some yellow flowers raising their faces to the light. The trees changed, too, the lumpy, moss-covered trunks giving way to a collection of slender trees with pale bark and long golden leaves that rustled like paper in the wind.

  Then they found the river. It appeared so suddenly in front of them that Brine would have fallen into it if Ewan hadn’t caught hold of her. They all stood and looked down at the fast-flowing water as it rushed over rocks and fallen trees before dipping sharply into a waterfall. A cool haze filled the air and made Brine feel like she was seeing through Mirrormist.

  “This water is fresh,” said Trudi, crouching next to the bank. “We should have brought barrels.”

  “If you want to drag barrels through the jungle, you can do it on your own,” said Cassie. She clambered down over rocks. “There’s a path here.”

  By “path” she meant a jumble of rocks with occasional flat places where you could just about fit one foot or the other. But the others were already climbing down, and Brine could either follow or stay at the top by herself. She followed, holding on to rocks with her hands as she went. Water thundered past and spread out into a large lake at the bottom of the fall. No sign of dragons—or of people, come to think of it.

  Trudi squatted down beside the lake and sank her arms into the water. “It goes down a long way.”

  A few bubbles rose to the surface in the middle of the lake. Brine’s flesh prickled. She didn’t know why, but something was making her afraid. “Trudi, wait.” She slid down the last few rocks to join the others. The ground around them was soft and covered in marks—footprints.
Some were human, and Brine’s pulse quickened. Others were animal—tiny ones that looked like birds, and a few that were much bigger.

  Much, much bigger.

  “Trudi, get away from the lake,” said Brine.

  Trudi ignored her, reached a little farther, and then fell in with a splash. Brine started forward, but Trudi stood up, laughing.

  “It’s fine,” she said. “It’s actually quite warm.” She paused. “Hold on. I think I’ve found something.”

  She bent and pulled a long, brown body out of the water.

  Cassie whipped out her sword. “It’s a snake!”

  But Trudi kept pulling and more snake emerged. If it was a snake, it was the biggest one Brine had ever seen. Its body should have ended in a head by now, but it just kept getting thicker.

  “What is that?” asked Ewan. “It looks more like a…” He tailed off, appropriately enough.

  The thing in Trudi’s hands wasn’t a snake; it was part of something much bigger. Brine stood, frozen in panic. Her legs couldn’t decide whether to run away or to charge into the lake after Trudi.

  Cassie took a step forward. “I think you should come out now,” she said, her voice as flat and calm as the lake had been.

  The tail twitched in Trudi’s hands then snapped out of her grip and lashed backward at her. She fell over with a splash, flailing water in all directions as she windmilled her arms. Cassie and Ewan shouted and rushed into the water. And Brine yelled because she saw the thing that was rising from the center of the lake.

  No wings. Brine’s mind scrambled for a coherent thought, and that was the only thing it found. That meant it couldn’t be a dragon. It was probably too big to be a dragon anyway. Its body was as big as a ship. They could all live in its body and have room for visitors.

  Trudi scrambled up and stumbled back toward the lake edge. The monster swung its massive neck around to look at her—a neck that was longer than the trees—and started to wade out of the lake. Water poured off its sides. Brine gripped her sword hard. She didn’t even remember drawing it. It felt tiny in her hand, and completely useless. She looked around to tell Peter to do something, but of course Peter wasn’t there.

  The monster dipped its head lower and blew out a spray of water. Its wide mouth looked like it was smiling. Happy at the prospect of eating them, Brine thought, and her hand shook so hard, she had to press her arm against her body to keep it still. The monster ignored her completely—in fact, it ignored all of them. It thundered on slowly past to the nearest group of trees and tore off a mouthful of papery leaves and branches.

  Ewan lowered his cutlass and laughed. “I don’t believe it. It’s a plant-eater!”

  The sudden relief caused Brine’s legs to give way. She sat down at the edge of the lake with a thump.

  “That’s a first,” said Cassie. “A monster that doesn’t want to eat us alive.” She sheathed her cutlass and wiped her forearm over her face. “First a sea-monster made of plants, and now a land-monster that eats plants. We should get back to the others—they are never going to believe us about this.”

  But then the trees rustled and parted and Brine spun around to see a second animal. This one was much smaller than the first, but on its hind legs it was taller than Cassie. For a second or two it stood still, and Brine was able to take in the sight of its mottled brown skin, the orange eyes, and its front legs, which were comically small compared to its body. There was nothing funny about its claws, though, or the way its eyes fixed on them hungrily. Brine could almost hear it thinking, Food.

  Brine’s heart rose into her throat. She stood up slowly. “I don’t think this one is a plant-eater.”

  The monster gave a low growl. Its teeth looked like knives. The front ones had bits of meat hanging off them.

  “I believe this is the part of Brine’s plan where we run away fast,” said Cassie.

  The monster rushed at them. They ran.

  CHAPTER 8

  Remember: The most dangerous monsters don’t always look like monsters. Sometimes they do. Actually, a lot of the time they do. Most of the time.

  (from THOMAS GIRLING’S BOOK OF PIRATING ADVENTURES)

  Tom turned on Peter the moment Cassie led the others into the trees. “Yes, Cassie,” he said sarcastically. “Whatever you say, Cassie; we’ll all sit here and do nothing, Cassie.” He kicked sand at Peter. “You might not have noticed, but I was looking forward to exploring this island.”

  Peter sighed. “We’re going to explore the island; don’t worry.” His gaze went back to the castle, real and solid and entirely unmirage-like halfway up the sky. A cold thrill ran through him. “Not even magic can beat gravity forever,” he said.

  Tom took his glasses off and scrubbed the lenses in angry circles. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means there’s something very wrong with that castle and we should investigate.” Peter took a step closer to Bill and Rob. “I bet you anything,” he said, raising his voice to make sure they could hear, “if we heard a strange noise. Over there, for example…” He pointed to the trees at the top of the cove. “And if we thought that, in the interests of safety, we should go and check it out, nobody is going to come running back to tell us we can’t.”

  Rob and Bill both stared at him blankly. Peter might as well have been speaking in a foreign language. In a way, he was—he was speaking the language of disobeying Cassie.

  Tom understood, though. Peter saw the sudden gleam in his eyes, the quick grin lighting up his face. He’d had a lifetime of rigid rules in the libraries of Barnard’s Reach, and he must have learned to bend the rules now and again.

  “I didn’t hear anything,” said Bill.

  “You’re right,” said Tom. “It’s quiet. Suspiciously quiet.” He took a few paces up the sand. “It’s the kind of quiet that makes me think marauding islanders are creeping up to ambush us right this second. We should definitely do something.”

  Bill and Rob still didn’t move. “You’re pirates,” said Peter. “You laugh in the face of terror, remember?”

  The pirates exchanged glances. “Terror,” agreed Bill. “But not Cassie. We don’t laugh in the face of Cassie.”

  Rob nodded vigorously. “Anyone who laughs in the face of Cassie is likely to lose their head.”

  Honestly, at this rate Cassie would be back before they’d gone two steps. Peter shifted his feet, listening to the sand crunch. Flecks of brilliant gold shone underfoot. Gold didn’t necessarily mean dragons, but if dragons didn’t have access to a treasure hoard to build a nest, a mix of sand and gold might do instead. He started to walk. “Of course, if you prefer, Tom and I can have a quick look around while you wait here. Just to make sure we’re not being ambushed.”

  He knew that Rob and Bill would never let them go off on their own, and sure enough, Rob ran after them.

  Bill’s gaze finally shifted to the trees and he slung his bow over his shoulder. “I suppose five minutes won’t hurt. Just as long as Cassie doesn’t find out.”

  * * *

  It felt wrong to be at the front of the group and not have Brine ahead of him, but why shouldn’t he take charge for once, Peter thought. Magicians were always ordering people around.

  Tom took his pen out and scratched arrows on the trees as they passed. “So we can find our way back,” he said.

  “Good idea.” Knowing they could get back to the boats if need be made him feel better. Peter walked on, stepping over thorny branches. The castle drew his gaze constantly, even through the thick ceiling of tree branches overhead, and he had to keep reminding himself to look down and keep an eye on his surroundings. The ground was sandy, spiked with shells and gray stones, and tiny, brightly colored lizards darted away from under his feet as he walked.

  “If Cassie gets back before us, she won’t be happy,” warned Rob in a voice as grim as Tim Burre predicting the end of the world.

  Peter picked a flying ant out of his ear. Really, though, did it matter if Cassie wasn’t happy? Even if
she found out they’d disobeyed orders—and she wouldn’t because they wouldn’t tell her—what was she going to do about it? She could bluster and threaten, but she couldn’t make them go back in time and not go exploring.

  That sort of thinking was practically mutiny. Peter panicked momentarily and blundered into a tree. He stopped still, blinking away stars.

  “You all right?” asked Bill.

  Peter was surprised to find that he was. He wiped his hands over his face and looked at the smears from the various squashed insects on his palms. He was disobeying Cassie, leading his own group of explorers, and nothing had gone horribly wrong. If this was Peter without the magic, he quite liked it.

  Tom’s pen snapped on a tree.

  “How are we going to find our way now?” asked Bill.

  “We’ll remember it,” said Peter, pretending that he hadn’t just been thinking exactly the same thing. He imagined all his fear turning into a ball and shrinking smaller and smaller until it was so small and light, he could flick it away. He drew in a few breaths. A branch snapped nearby. Was that an ambush of angry villagers or just an animal? Peter didn’t wait to find out. “It’s a pen, not a prophecy of doom,” he said. “Let’s carry on.”

  He splashed through a stream where a rainbow of flying beetles hovered. Tom swatted at them with his notebook. “What if there are dragons, and Cassie finds them before us?”

  Peter imagined Cassie in a fight with a dragon. “Cassie would never attack dragons.”

  Tom walked on. “Cassie knows that, but do the dragons?”

  A distant roaring shook the trees. They all stopped dead, and Rob drew his sword. “What was that?”

  The roaring continued. Peter’s face prickled with sweat.

  “The boats,” said Rob.

  “Tom, come on.”

  Tom didn’t move. “I’d love to,” he said. “But I think I’m stuck.”

  Peter looked down. The ground was soft underfoot, and sandy. He stepped back quickly, leaving footprints that were already half filled with water. The sand around Tom’s feet was moving: undulating up and down like waves in slow motion, and air bubbles rose and burst. Tom tried to turn around, wobbled, and almost fell.