Telling the story meant that she saw it happen again, flashing through her memory like fire. “I’m going to tell the islanders a different story,” she said. “Kaya spent his life protecting the island, and he deserves to be remembered for that.”
Nobody said anything for a while.
Tom took out the spellstone that Hiri had given him and turned it over and over in his hand. “Where are Brine’s parents?” he asked.
A blade of amber light streaked out, then the last magic in the stone gave out and it turned gray.
Brine started.
Peter took the starshell. “I’ll try again later. We might need more magic to find them.”
Brine sat back down and hugged her arms around herself. Her parents were alive. They were still lost, but still alive.
“I can remember them now,” she said. “I know what they look like. My mother was tall, even taller than my father. She used to tell me stories—about dragons.”
* * *
Orion made one more circuit of the island. The people hiding in the village came out to stand and stare. And on the beach, six children—four boys and two girls—who had been staring at the waves with blank eyes suddenly jumped up.
Cerro didn’t notice at first—like everyone else, he was staring into the sky. But then he heard Ren’s voice and turned awkwardly on his crutches.
Ren ran to him. “Cerro, why is there a dragon in the sky? And why are your legs funny?”
Cerro crumpled down into the sand, laughing. He saw the other five children all talking, looking around for their families. Brine had said something about dragons maintaining the balance of magic, he remembered. He didn’t know what had just happened, but stories had always talked about Orion returning, and it was entirely possible that the dragon’s return would put everything back the way it should be.
He watched as Orion flew out to sea, then folded her wings and sank down onto the waves. When he blinked, all he saw was a ship, small and fragile. He put his arm around Ren’s shoulders. “Of course there’s a dragon,” he said. “This is Dragon Island.”
CHAPTER 38
Today’s monster warnings: Attention all merchants, fishermen, pirates, and other sailors. There are no further severe monster warnings. Please be on your guard for existing monsters, but it appears that the current crisis has stabilized.
(from STRANGE TIDES: JOURNAL OF THE UNEXPLAINED AND INEXPLICABLE, Submitted to Barnard’s Reach by news-scribe)
The village gates were shut fast. Brine had half expected this. There had been no word from Marapi all night, though she must have seen Orion flying. The group of islanders, pirates, and dragons stopped outside the gates, and Cerro limped forward and banged on them. The healstones had left him weak, but he was walking without crutches again.
“Marapi!” he shouted. “I know you can hear me. You have a choice: Open these gates, or our magi will break them down.”
One of the first things Cerro had done that morning was to speak with Hiri and Ebeko. Brine, waiting at the back of the group, actually felt a bit sorry for the pair. They’d spent an uncomfortable night tied up on the beach, waiting to see if the pirates would decide to throw them into the sea. But in the morning, Cerro had given them a choice: Join him and follow orders, or Peter would magic them far out to sea in one of the pirates’ rowing boats. They’d chosen to stay.
The village gates opened. Marapi waited inside, wielding a spear in her hand, and behind her, at least fifty villagers stood ready and armed.
“You’re not welcome here,” said Marapi. “You left the village, and you are outsiders now. Go.”
Cerro stared at her incredulously for a second, then he laughed. “Are you serious? Marfak’s Peak erupted out to sea; Orion’s Keep fell. Didn’t you see the dragon flying?”
The scars on Marapi’s face twisted. “Dragons exist only in stories. We saw a mirage, caused by magic and the volcano’s smoke. You can’t…”
She broke off, her mouth open, as Cassie stepped aside to reveal Stella, Peter, Brine, and Tom, each holding a small, furious dragon.
“Lizards,” said Marapi. Her voice was desperate. “Some new breed of teradon, no doubt.”
Boswell approached and torched her spear with flames.
“Dragons,” said Cerro firmly as Marapi stamped out the fire.
Brine stifled a giggle. A few other people laughed, too: The islanders around her, but also some of the villagers standing behind Marapi. The dragon squirmed in her arms, trying to bite through the leather padding she’d wrapped around her arms. These four dragons were nothing like Boswell. When Boswell set you on fire, it was an accident; these babies did it on purpose. And they fought over food and snapped at anyone who came near them. They seemed to have accepted that Boswell was in charge, but Brine wondered how long that would last.
When she’d imagined a world with dragons, she’d pictured them all like Boswell—cute and friendly, a bit clumsy. A world with wild dragons was a very different place—bigger, and more exciting. The dinosaurs were going to be in for a shock.
Cerro walked through the village gates, and people moved back to make way for him. “Everything is changing,” he said, stopping in the middle of them. “Marfak’s Peak is dormant for now, but we still need magic. And we are Dragon Island, home to the only dragons in all the eight oceans.”
Stella stepped close to Marapi. “You can back him up,” she said quietly, “or I’ll tell him about the teradons you sent to kill Peter and me.”
Marapi glowered at her. “You have no proof.”
“Is that what you think?” The girl raised her eyebrows, striding away.
“Do you have proof?” whispered Brine.
Stella gave her a tight-lipped smile. “No, but don’t tell her that.”
“Where is Kaya?” Marapi called.
Ebeko looked at the ground, biting her lip. Hiri scuffed the ground uneasily.
“He’s dead,” said Brine. She shut her eyes for a moment. Two things could be true in the same moment. A ship could also be a dragon, and a liar could also be a hero. She drew in a deep breath and opened her eyes again. “Kaya died trying to save Orion’s Keep. He was already ill because of the strain of keeping all those spells going, and he needed so much magic at the end that it was too much for him. It’s thanks to him that we’re here now.”
That was true enough, in a way. If it hadn’t been for Kaya, Brine’s parents would never have sent her across the world. She would never have met Peter, or joined the Onion.
Ebeko’s expression softened, and she nodded at Brine before following Cerro into the village. Whether it was in thanks or warning, Brine did not know. Possibly it was both.
Brine turned away. The stories would grow just as all stories did, and in years to come, they’d turn Kaya into the hero who’d sacrificed himself so that the island and the dragons could live.
* * *
It took several hours for Cerro and Marapi to come to an agreement.
“It will be difficult for a while,” said Cerro, emerging from his hut to watch Boswell trying to teach the baby dragons how to fly. “I could have thrown her out of the village, and she knows it. She’s lost her power. But it’s time we started working together. The dragons will be safe here.”
“Thank you,” said Brine. She looked around at the village, taking in the familiar circle of huts and the dragons snapping and growling as they spread their wings. She smiled.
“You could stay,” offered Cerro. “We’d be glad of your help.” His gaze shifted over Brine’s head. “What do you say, captain?”
Brine knew what Cassie would say. This morning she’d caught her going through some of the boxes that the magi had left on the Onion. One of them had contained maps.
“We’ll stay for a few days,” said Cassie. “Just until things are settled here and we’ve restocked the ship.” She glanced sideways, catching Brine’s gaze. “Of course, if any of my crew decides to stay on, we’ll talk about it.”
Brine sho
ok her head. Part of her knew she’d be sorry to leave—but she’d be even sorrier if she stayed. Even with dragons to take care of, she could never be happy staying in one place. She’d come here looking for home and family, and she’d found neither. Orion’s Keep lay in pieces all over the slopes of the volcano, and her parents could be anywhere between here and the other side of the world. She couldn’t give up looking for them.
“The Onion is where we belong,” she said. “Right?”
“Right,” said Tom at once.
Peter didn’t answer. Brine kicked him.
“I’m still deciding,” he said seriously.
Boswell crashed into the roof of a hut, but Brine barely noticed. “Peter!”
* * *
Peter stepped away from her. “Brine, will you stop kicking me? There are dragons here, and the island needs magic.”
“But we need you!” She couldn’t have gotten through the days in Orion’s Keep without him.
Peter shook his head. “Brine…” Then he turned and walked away.
Cassie put a hand on Brine’s shoulder. “Leave him be,” she murmured.
“What for? So he can decide to leave us?”
“No, so he can decide what he wants without you interfering. We all want him to stay on the Onion, but if you push him to do it, we’ll all end up regretting it. Trust me: I know what happens when people get pushed into things.”
Brine paused and watched as Peter joined Stella. The two of them started trying to round up the baby dragons. He seemed taller, Brine thought, or maybe he was just standing up straight for the first time. She nodded.
“Did you know that Marfak West’s ghost is haunting the ship?” asked Brine, wiping her hands across her face.
Cassie’s smile froze rigid. “No. Oddly enough, I didn’t know that. Mr. Hughes, why do people never tell me things?”
“Because you’re the captain,” said Ewan. “You’re supposed to know everything already. There’s no such thing as ghosts. The last time we saw them, it was just a hallucin … a whatever that long word Tom used was.”
“Hallucination,” said Tom.
“He was not a hallucination,” said Brine. “I talked to him. He helped me.”
Ewan grinned. “There you are, then—definitely not Marfak West.”
Brine wasn’t so sure.
“We’ll search the ship when we get back,” said Cassie, and Brine had to be content with that.
EPILOGUE
Are you hoping to see something legendary,
A sight you can long feast your eye on?
Sail forth on a quest to the magical west
And you might see the dragon Orion.
Oh, her scales are all shades and her wings are cascades
Of such beauty they’ll blow off your socks.
For one chance to spy on the dragon Orion
A man would walk barefoot on rocks.
(from THE BALLAD OF ORION)
Over the next week, Peter divided his time between the Onion and the island. Hiri wanted to learn how to cast spells straight from starshell, and though Ebeko muttered about the dangers of wild magic, she, too, watched as Peter demonstrated.
Meanwhile, Brine was spending hours with Boswell, and Tom read his way steadily through the books saved from the castle library. Peter was glad they all had things to keep them busy—and Cassie had probably told everyone to leave him alone, because nobody talked to him about staying or leaving. It was bad enough when he caught Brine watching him. If he stayed here, he’d miss her and Tom and the crew, but if he left with them, what would he do then? Go back to being ship’s magician? There’d be no more dragons to look after. Brine still wanted to find her parents, but she could do that just as easily without him.
He returned to the Onion with Stella that evening to find Tom bouncing with excitement.
“What’s up?” asked Peter. “Have you finally figured out why there are exceptions to the ‘magic corrodes’ rule?”
Tom shook his head, grinning from ear to ear. “No, this is much better. Guess what I’ve found.”
He unrolled a sheet of paper. It was just an ordinary map—a map of the Western Ocean—but they didn’t really need one of those now. Peter looked closer. “I don’t see…”
“That’s because you’re not looking properly,” said Tom. He pointed to where Apcaron was labeled. “See this cross? Now, look at all the others.”
Peter peered at the faded writing. He counted twenty or so crosses altogether. Tom took the map off him and turned it over. On the back, someone had written: X = nesting places.
“Nesting places,” said Tom. “We know what nested on Apcaron, don’t we?”
Dragons.
Tom passed the map to Cassie, who passed it on to Ewan. The pirate groaned. “I know where this is headed. We have a crate of gold, enough supplies to take us halfway home, and we can go in any direction we please from here. We could be the richest ship on the eight oceans.”
“And then what will we do?” asked Cassie. “The Onion is a ship with the heart of a dragon. Maybe we were even made especially just for this. To sail in search of lost islands and all the forgotten dragon eggs of the world. Think of the stories if we succeed.”
Peter was already thinking. He was thinking that, knowing Cassie, she’d just sail off in some random direction and wave her sword at people, expecting dragon eggs to drop out of the sky. They needed to plan this properly, and Brine couldn’t do all the planning on her own. She needed someone who knew about dragons, and she needed magic.
“We should fill some extra crates with sand,” he said slowly. “We may need somewhere to store the eggs we find.”
Stella’s jaw dropped, but Brine flung her arms around him. “You’re staying with us!”
“For now.” He pushed his hands into his pockets. “I think I might come back here to live one day, but not just yet. We’ll be coming back to visit, anyway, and we’ll need somewhere to bring any eggs we find. This island is a good place for dragons to grow up.”
“I’ll look after them,” said Stella.
“Or you could come with us,” offered Brine. “Cassie won’t mind. You said once before that you wanted to leave the island and see the world.”
Stella shook her head. “I still do, but not yet. Cerro needs me—and so do the dragons.” Her gaze drifted to the sky. “I’m going to build another balloon, though. Look out for me—I’ll probably come flying past you one day.”
Peter held out his hand. “Good luck.”
“You, too.”
Peter felt the Onion’s heartbeat quicken. The ship was eager for the open sea and new adventures. “When can we start?” he asked.
* * *
The space beneath the deck was quiet. Tom’s messenger gull slept in its cage. Zen was clearly missing Boswell and had curled up despondently in his basket. They were all going to miss Boswell, Peter thought as he made his way to the back of the ship.
The air stirred.
“You’re still here, then,” said Peter.
Marfak West leaned back against the crates. “Of course I’m still here. Where else would I go? Besides, I want to see what happens.”
“Happens to what?”
The ghost brushed some imaginary fluff from his nonexistent sleeve. “To you, among other things. Your librarian friend has some interesting theories about magic. Magic does not corrupt; it changes. You accept the change, like the Onion, or resist it.”
“And?” asked Peter.
“And you have had a piece of starshell in your hand for months now. What is it doing to you, do you think?”
Peter blinked, and he was alone.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The island of Apcaron is an anagram of Caprona: the original Land That Time Forgot. This movie, and others like it, filled my childhood with stories of forgotten lands and sparked a lifelong love of magical voyages and fantastical monsters. I am incredibly lucky that I can now add my own stories to the mix.
My th
anks to the fabulous Julia Sooy and Rachel Kellehar, whose editing pens are mightier than many swords, and to the whole team at Henry Holt and Macmillan UK for their hard work and enthusiasm. And special thanks to Becka Moore (UK), Oriol Vidal (US), and the design teams for such stunning covers.
My agent, Gemma Cooper, who deserves a medal for her tireless hard work.
Thank you, Team Cooper; all the Sweet Sixteens; SCBWI Wales; all at St. Marks, Cardiff; my former colleagues at Cardiff University. You have provided exactly the right blend of advice, support, and friendship on this exciting journey. I’m especially grateful to Kali Wallace for reading my early draft, and Sarah Schauerte Reida, who is the best critique partner an author could hope for.
Once again, thank you to my husband, Phillip, and all my wonderful friends who have flown kites with me, played games with me, fed me brownies, and otherwise kept me more or less sane.
Finally, a gigantic, dinosaur-sized thank-you to all the wonderful booksellers who have spread the word about Brine, Peter, Tom, and the crew. Especially Seonaid in Oxford. Your support has been overwhelming and I am amazingly grateful.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Claire Fayers is the author of The Voyage to Magical North and its sequel, The Journey to Dragon Island. She lives in South Wales with her husband and as many cats as she can get away with.
Visit her online at clairefayers.com, or sign up for email updates here.
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