by Lisa McMann
Florence joined her. “I think so,” she said. She reached inside the ship and began loosening the knots that held the containers of freshwater, then brought the containers out and placed them in front of the thirsty humans.
As they drank in careful, measured sips, Florence glanced at the variety of shipwrecks poking up out of the water nearby or crashed onto the rocks. “We’ll need a little help. We don’t have any tools. We’re also missing some really important items, like the sails, rigging, ship’s wheel, a rudder . . . and plenty of material to patch this thing. We’re going to need to scavenge some of these shipwrecks to find what we need.”
Sky flashed her mother an adventurous smile. She and Crow knew quite a bit about shipbuilding too.
At the word “scavenging,” Samheed and Lani looked at each other and grinned.
Henry and Crow both stopped in their tracks and looked at Florence, eyes wide. “What did you say?” Crow asked. “We get to explore the wrecks?” He could hardly contain his excitement.
“You swimmers can scavenge,” Copper said. “I’ll stay on shore and help Florence. I’m glad to finally be able to do something to help after all you have done for me.”
“I’ll be glad to have your help,” Florence said.
Ms. Octavia seated Captain Ahab nearby to rest and watch, and then joined the humans to figure out their work plan. But soon a peal of thunder rattled the sky and rain pelted the ground, leaving tiny, perfect divots in the pods of drying sand. The wind shifted and began to swirl around them. The short reprieve from the storm was apparently over.
Sky ignored the storm. She scurried toward a wreck a little ways offshore to explore. But just as she ran through the wind and rain, something caught her eye near the center of the barren island. She stopped short and looked more carefully. It was a small person, raggedly clothed, standing still and watching them.
Sky gasped. The figure disappeared behind a rock.
She turned back to the ship. “Alex? Florence?” she called out softly. “We’re definitely not alone on the this island.”
Aaron Tries to Rile Up the Crowd
Aaron realized the best way to show General Blair that he was serious was to start tearing the wall down immediately—but that wasn’t necessarily the best way to go about it from the perspective of the high priest of Quill. So the morning after his meeting with the general, Aaron called the people of Quill together so he could tell them what to believe.
“People of Quill,” Aaron said in the monotone manner of Justine, “some of you already know that my faithful secretary was attacked and killed by a creature of Artimé.” He paused and allowed the small murmur of the crowd to grow and fade, for some of them with fuzzy minds had forgotten the news already.
“It’s an unfortunate situation,” Aaron continued, “and one that we must swiftly address. Artimé is dangerous. And we must no longer tolerate their infiltration and attacks on our good people. Comrades, have you any rage inside you?”
The people of Quill looked up at Aaron.
Aaron frowned. “You may respond. Do you have any rage inside you?”
The Quillens looked at one another, unsure of what the right answer was. It seemed like a trick question. Were they supposed to have rage inside them, or was that against the law? They couldn’t remember. Mr. and Mrs. Stowe exchanged a worried glance, and then both immediately looked down at their daughters in their arms, as if they didn’t want Aaron to read their thoughts.
Gondoleery, standing nearby with Liam, leaned over to Aaron and hissed, “You have to tell them what to say, idiot.”
Aaron blinked, pretending not to hear. His cheeks burned. “My dear people,” he said, trying again. “As you know, the High Priest Justine taught us to bank our rage, saving it up for a time when we would need to fight against our enemies. Remember?” He frowned. “I am telling you today that our enemies in Artimé must be extinguished for what they have done. We will be attacking Artimé soon. It is now time for you to get angry. Do you understand?”
A few people in the audience murmured. Others looked around fearfully. They liked this high priest . . . didn’t they? He was the one who gave them extra food. But it was hard to remember. . . .
“Very good,” Aaron said. His eyes darted anxiously around the lethargic crowd. “We can use that kind of energy, and perhaps even a little more than that would be quite helpful. Okay.” He ran his fingernail nervously along a sliver of warped wood on the podium and winced as it broke off and stuck fast under his nail. He stepped back and clasped his hands in front of him, his finger throbbing.
“Now,” he said, growing increasingly short-tempered, “in order to fight against Artimé, we must do one thing that may come as a surprise to you. We must tear down the wall that surrounds us.”
This brought a slightly more lively response, but Aaron held his hands up for silence. “I know what you’re thinking,” Aaron said, though it seemed more likely that only a few of them were actually thinking anything. “But the only way to attack properly is to have full access to Artimé. The wall was a hindrance in the past and it will be the cause of our failure in the future. We must take it down. Don’t argue,” he said, though none of them were. “You need to understand that the risk of an enemy from far away is not nearly as great as the risk from the enemy in Artimé, where, as you may recall, they are now sending beasts to kill us! We must hurry to tear down the wall and move toward an organized attack before they have time to prepare a defense against us. Once we have defeated them, we will finally be at peace.”
He looked around the bland faces of the people of Quill, and for a moment, Aaron felt disgusted by them all—every last one of them had no opinion, no goals, no fire inside them. Not like he did. His fire to take over the island was stronger than ever. Why couldn’t he get them to call up their anger, like he had done within himself? He felt like giving them all slivers in their fingers to see if that would garner a response.
“Look alive!” he pleaded, and the people of Quill started, afraid. “Allow your rage to build so we can let it loose against the enemy!”
A few more weak responses came from the audience, but it was disorganized at best, and soon everyone was quiet again.
Aaron sighed, exasperated. This wasn’t going at all the way he’d planned. Maybe the Quillens had used up all fifty years’ worth of their rage in the last battle.
“Just . . . okay, we’ll work on the rage part. But now, you will please help me take the wall down,” he said, beginning to feel very impatient. “Necessaries, you will join the Quillitary efforts, beginning in the area next to the gates of Artimé and moving out in both directions, all the way around the island. It will be dangerous, but you’ll see it will be worth it in the end. When I’m finished here, please make your way to the Quillitary officers and await your instructions.”
Mrs. Stowe gave her husband a searching glance, then silently reached for the twin he was holding. He put the girl into Mrs. Stowe’s arms alongside the other, and before he let go, he gripped his wife’s hand and squeezed. Mrs. Stowe looked up into his face. She squeezed back.
Aaron, feeling more and more like he was losing the attention of his entire audience, wrapped up his speech. “And everyone—get ready to fight.”
This time he didn’t wait for any lackluster reaction. Instead he marched out of the amphitheater to the road and climbed into the car that waited for him. He put his arm out the window and waved Liam over to join him, leaving Gondoleery behind to go in the next car.
“Take us to the Quillitary,” Aaron barked to the driver.
The ride was silent but for the chug and squeal of the jalopy. Aaron stared stone-faced out the window, and Liam looked at his hands, clasped in his lap.
Soon they arrived at the Quillitary grounds. Aaron and Liam went inside and made their way to the little house where General Blair lived. The door stood ajar. Aaron pushed it and found the general alone.
The man looked up from the table where he was eating a
lunch of Favored food. “Well?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “What kind of response did you get? Lots of cheers?”
Aaron’s face burned. “My people are exactly as responsive as we trained them to be,” he said. “What more would you expect? A shout? A rousing song? None of that’s allowed, so of course their silent stares indicate all are properly ready to proceed with this plan.”
“Fair enough.” The general finished chewing and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “When the wall is down, and when you have solved my oil problem, we’ll talk about this plan of attack.”
“Good,” Aaron said, but he’d forgotten about the oil problem. He looked down his nose and said with a hint of disdain, “I’ve prepared the Necessaries to start the work on the wall. Your Quillitary is instructing them now, so I’m assuming you have an excellent idea of how to carry out the task after so many years of wanting the wall down.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’ll get to work on the oil problem and will return with a solution after your work on the wall is done.”
The general, his eyes narrowed and the wound throbbing at his neck, nodded. “I’ll be waiting.”
Aaron glared back at him. “Not for long, I assure you,” he said. “So be ready.”
The general laughed. “I give the orders, High Priest.”
Aaron scowled. He turned, Liam followed, and they walked out of the house and across the Quillitary grounds, back to the road. They climbed into the vehicle and chugged back up the dusty road to the palace.
As the barbed-wire ceiling’s shadows rolled across Aaron’s cheek, his mind whirled with the overwhelming promises he’d made. Not only did he promise to tear down the wall, but now he had to fix the oil problem—a problem that had existed since Quill began over fifty years ago. What had he gotten himself into? His breath came out in short bursts as he tried to control the panic that welled up inside him. He was so tired of this feeling. Would it ever end?
Liam looked at Aaron curiously but said nothing.
When the vehicle came to a rest in front of the palace door, Aaron and Liam climbed out. Aaron paused in the driveway as the vehicle pulled away, and looked at the forty-foot wall. His moving gaze stopped when he reached the filled-in spot, where he’d once opened a window to the sea. How strange it would be to see the water again. Despite the heat, Aaron shivered.
Liam paused at the door and stood uncertainly, waiting for him.
“Send someone out to collect all the cashew fruit and other nuts growing in the Favored Farm,” Aaron said brusquely. “Every last one. And deliver them to my office. Oh, and tell the Farm guards to plant more immediately. We’ll need a constant supply.”
Liam knit his brows. “Yes, sir.”
“And then make sure the Necessaries understand their instructions from the Quillitary so they can get moving on the teardown.”
“Yes, sir,” Liam said again. He hesitated, and added, “Are you sure about this? The wall coming down, I mean?”
Aaron looked sharply at Liam. “What do you think? Of course I’m not sure! This plan could ruin me. And it could ruin you, too. So if you do not wish to participate, you may gladly take yourself back to the Ancients Sector once and for all, and you’ll be dead by morning.”
Liam stood, mouth agape. He couldn’t stand Aaron’s arrogance and considered walking away. But then he closed his mouth. If he left, there would be no hope for Artimé. For the sake of Eva and for the hope of Claire’s forgiveness, he uttered the words as Eva had taught him. “You have my utmost loyalty.”
“I should hope so,” Aaron snarled.
As Liam turned to go, Aaron grabbed his arm. “Wait. I’m not finished,” he said, his voice strained.
“I’m sorry. What can I do for you?” Liam could see the fear in Aaron’s eyes. It was there all the time now. For a moment, he almost felt sorry for the high priest.
“I want you to steal as many magical components from Artimé as you can get your hands on, and bring them to me. I need to know how they work, and the words you have to say with them, so you’ll have to find somebody over there who you can torture for secrets. I don’t care what you do or how you get them—just get it done.”
Leaving Liam speechless as he had done so often lately, Aaron fled into the palace, wondering if he was making an extremely dangerous mistake, and hoping with everything he had in him that his reign—and his life—was not about to end.
Underwater Exploration
When the figure disappeared behind the rock, Sky ran back toward Alex. “What do we do? Go after him?”
“It depends,” Alex said, thinking frantically. What would Simber do? Alex hated not having him around to consult with. The wind gusted, spraying them all with rain and salt water from the sea. “If this place is like Warbler, there could be thousands of them.”
Florence interrupted. “There aren’t thousands. This island isn’t big enough to hide them all, and it’s solid rock—there’s no going underground here. I can see over many of the boulders, and I don’t see anyone else.”
“That doesn’t mean they aren’t there,” Samheed said, his voice anxious. He gripped Lani’s hand. “We should get out of here now.” Samheed and Lani were rightfully afraid after having spent a month captured underground on Warbler.
“Why did Sean have to break his stupid leg?” Lani muttered. “We need Simber.”
“Simber couldn’t transport all of us anyway,” Alex pointed out weakly.
“The safest way out is by fixing the ship,” Florence said. “We don’t know how far we are from home. And nobody said this person—or these people—are going to harm us. They could be friendly, like on Karkinos.”
“Friendly people don’t hide,” Sky muttered. She looked at Alex. “Mean people and scared people hide.”
Alex shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t sure if her statement was aimed at him, but he’d learned to assume most cryptic comments were. And it was true—Alex had a tendency to hide when he was scared to confront a problem, especially when it involved a girl. That’s how he ended up in this current predicament with Sky. They talked at, about, and around each other rather than directly with each other. He knew it wasn’t right, but he didn’t know how else to function. He had to focus on leading his people out of this mess. There simply wasn’t time for difficult relationships. But he missed her.
“Sky’s right, of course,” Alex said carefully, eyeing her to see her response.
She smirked and looked at the ground, then stole a glance his way. But then she recovered her serious approach to the issue at hand. “I don’t think there’s enough food on this rocky island to sustain very many people. We need to get to work on this ship and have people keep watch. See if he or anyone else approaches us. Don’t forget how scary Florence is when you haven’t seen anything like her before.”
Florence popped her biceps. “Right. Don’t ever forget.”
Alex nodded. “It’s probably just someone in the same predicament we’re in. A lucky victim of one of these shipwrecks. Or maybe not so lucky, depending on how you look at it.” He looked around to assess his team. “Whatever the case, we’re stuck here, so I imagine we’ll run into him again. So is everybody in agreement? Shall we get to work?”
“We should at least have a lookout,” Lani said, wringing out her hair, which was soaked with rain by now. “I’ll do it. I’d feel a lot better about this that way.”
“Great,” Alex said. “We can take turns.” He looked up at the sky. It was growing darker. The clouds weaved restlessly together.
Lani ran a few yards away, climbed up a tall rock formation and perched on top of it. The steady rain beat down on her. She held her knees and mopped her eyes with her sleeve.
“Florence,” Alex said, “what are we looking for?”
“Whatever we can find to patch this ship together. Planks, sheets of metal. Waterproof stuff. Cloth for sails, ropes, tools—you name it. If it looks useful, bring it to me and Copper. And let’s make it beautiful and creativ
e, Unwanteds! That’s our specialty, after all.” She stood up, a giant against the small barren island. “If things are too big for you to carry, you know how to find me.”
“Can we go, please?” Crow asked. He and Henry jiggled impatiently, excited to explore the shipwrecks that littered the area.
“All right, go,” Alex said with a grin as they bounded away. “Stay together and be careful! There could be sea critters about.” He thought briefly about the eel they’d fought on Karkinos and wondered if it had any friends out this way, lurking and waiting for a meal, and his smile faded. “Be careful!” he shouted again.
Everyone scattered, some staying on land to explore the smashed fishing boats and wreckage, and others heading out toward the rocks in the water to see what lay below the surface.
Alex watched as Sky followed her brother into the water. He wished he could follow her. He longed to talk with her the way they had before things got complicated. Was she really over him, like Lani had said? It seemed that way. He sighed and joined Ms. Octavia. They swam carefully amidst the rocks and headed toward the weathered stern of a sunken ship that just barely stuck up above the water.
They couldn’t see much through the murk until they got close. Once they reached it, they dove down and followed the line of the ship’s side, Octavia going first. The ship rested at a forty-five-degree angle, its snout planted firmly in a bed of rocks and mud. It was hard to see much of anything, but Octavia lit several highlighter components to guide them.
Alex followed close behind Ms. Octavia, marveling at the beautiful sides of the near-perfect ship. He wondered how it came to be here. He’d never seen anything like it in the waters or on any of the other islands they’d visited.
Nestled in the rocky sea bottom nearby was an enormous technical instrument that had apparently dislodged when the boat sank. Alex knew he’d have to check that out later. It looked fascinating, and he couldn’t imagine what it was used for. It probably wouldn’t be of any use to the shipbuilders, but maybe he could convince Florence to try to bring it on shore sometime.
