Island of Shipwrecks

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Island of Shipwrecks Page 17

by Lisa McMann


  Three squirrelicorns soared down and quickly picked up the captain, allowing Alex and Florence to try to catch up to the others. While they ran, they caught glimpses of the squirrelicorns swaying through the wind as they carried the statue out over the waves, heading toward a dot on the horizon that Alex could just barely see. The other three squirrelicorns flew down to fetch Copper and carry her away.

  Just as Alex and Florence reached the other side, Samheed threw down his carpet. It expanded. He sat on it and gathered Fox and Kitten on board. “To the ship,” he commanded. His carpet lifted him several feet above the waves and puttered toward the ship. Alex watched intently, hoping the wind would stay quiet enough not to upset the carpet and knock them to the sea.

  Lani went next. “Come on, Crow!” she said. She threw down her carpet, and when it expanded, she sat down and patted the space in front of her. Crow hopped onto the spot and soon they were off, following Samheed. They tipped a bit, but both hung on tightly to the sides of the carpet, and it righted itself again.

  Henry followed, flying solo, and soon overtook Lani and Crow.

  Octavia threw her component down, climbed on, and whisked away, leaving Sky, Alex, and Florence on the island.

  “So far so good,” Florence said, gathering her components. “Sky, keep your eyes on the ship and let us know if anybody fails to make it. Let’s get mine started, Alex.”

  It was nearing the halfway point in the hour of calm, and there was no time to lose. Alex and Florence marked off an area on the rocks and began throwing magic carpets down at breakneck speed, overlapping them slightly for more stability, five across and six deep. Florence sat down on them, trying to spread her weight evenly over the thirty carpets. “I sure hope this works,” she muttered.

  “Go!” Alex said. “Hurry!”

  “To the ship!” cried Florence.

  Sky and Alex held their breath.

  The magic carpets strained and wiggled beneath the warrior. The ones around the edges lifted her up an inch, maybe two . . . now three . . . but the ones in the middle didn’t budge.

  “Come on,” Sky pleaded.

  “You can do it, Florence,” Alex said. “Lie flat on your back! That might help the ones under your—you know what.”

  Florence shot Alex a look, but did what he suggested. All the carpets rose a bit with Florence lying stiffly on top, and then lifted a little higher and began to move toward the ship, just barely clearing the rocks and shipwrecks that jutted up above the waves. She was moving very slowly.

  Sky gripped Alex’s arm. “If she doesn’t speed up, she’s not going to make it, is she?”

  Alex shook his head. “I don’t know.” He glanced into the distance, looking at all the dots in the sky and counting them. “Everybody’s still flying,” he said. A few of the dots bounced around a bit in the air with the wind. Florence’s ride continued steadily, but very slowly.

  “Alex,” Florence called out. “I don’t think this is going to work.”

  “Think positive, Florence!” Alex called out in desperation. “You can do it!”

  Sky looked at Alex. “Can you send a few more carpets out to go under her?” Do you have extras?”

  “A few,” Alex said. “We already used some of the ones you made last night.” Alex rummaged in his vest pocket and grabbed four carpet components.

  “Florence, catch!” he called out. He tossed the four components to Florence, and she caught them. Soon she had a second small layer of carpets under her center of gravity.

  “I think that helped a little,” Sky said. “Maybe.”

  Thunder rumbled, a little louder than before, and a gust of wind blew Sky’s hair across her face.

  “Storm’s picking up. We should go,” Sky said.

  Alex strained his neck, looking at the darkening skies, and worrying over Florence, whose journey was frustratingly slow. He turned to Sky. “Okay. But there’s one more thing I forgot to do before we go. I think I have just enough time. Wait here and keep an eye on Florence—I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “What?” cried Sky. “Alex, don’t be crazy—what are you doing?”

  “I’ll be right back,” Alex promised, and with that, he dashed off at a mad pace, back to the windward side of the island, leaving Sky standing on the shore alone.

  A Reckless Parting Gift

  Clearly Alex had lost his mind, and he knew it. Yet he ran as fast as he could to the other side of the island, past bewildered Ito and Sato who were collecting moss during the hour of calm. “Stay back!” he said to them, and ran straight into the water. As soon as he was deep enough, he dove and swam with all his might to the scientists’ ship.

  When he reached it, he surfaced and pressed his hand against the part of the stern that stood above the water. He took a moment to catch his breath, staring intently at the shore in the exact spot where the pirate ship had stood for weeks.

  A flash of lightning cracked the sky, startling him, and he knew he had to get back to Sky before the storm grew worse. He forced himself to focus, thinking only of the newly empty stretch of land nearby. Now that the pirate ship was out of the way, he could finally do something for the scientists who had been so hospitable to them all this time.

  When Alex had eliminated all other stresses from his mind, he closed his eyes, picturing the cleared section of the island, and whispered, “Transport.”

  As soon as he could feel the ship no longer, he opened his eyes. And there, perfectly placed on the shore, sat the almost pristine craft, marred only by the long, angry gash in its side. Water, fish, and mud streamed from it.

  With a triumphant shout, Alex struck out toward the island once more, feeling the sea churning and pulling beneath him. He ran onto the shore and sped toward the other side of the island, past the shelter where Ishibashi was just coming out.

  “I left you a present!” Alex shouted. “Go look!”

  Ishibashi stared at Alex as the boy ran past, and then heard the shouts from Ito and Sato and hurried toward the recovered ship.

  With all his heart, Alex wished he could see the scientists’ reactions when they found their ship and all the equipment still inside. But he didn’t have time. He pressed on toward Sky, who had followed after him a short distance and waited anxiously for him to return.

  “Alex!” she shouted when she caught sight of him once more. “Hurry!”

  Alex’s legs and lungs burned as he ran and jumped over the rocky terrain. As he went, he fished around in his pocket for his magic carpet component so they could take off. But by the time he reached Sky, he still hadn’t found it.

  “Florence is in trouble,” Sky said, grabbing his arm. “Look!”

  Alex stared. In his urgency to do something good for the scientists, he’d almost forgotten about Florence and her low ride across the water. “Blast it,” he muttered, spotting her. She was so low that waves splashed against her sides.

  Sky gripped his arm. “It’s been almost ten minutes already and she’s not halfway there. She’s not going to make it! What are we going to do?”

  Alex turned his pockets inside out, searching madly for components, and then stared at Sky. “Do you have it?”

  “Have what?”

  “The carpet component for us—I don’t have it!”

  “I gave them all to you last night!” Sky said. “Why would I—? No, I’m sure you have them. I don’t have any.” She whipped her head toward the sea to look at the ship, as if that would bring it closer. “Alex! Tell me you have it!”

  Alex’s lungs contracted. He felt light-headed. “I must have used them all for Florence,” he whispered.

  Sky stared. She yanked his arm, pulling him so they stood face to face. “Alex,” she said in a sickly calm voice, her fingers digging into his skin, “my mother and brother are on that ship. They will freak out if I don’t get there.”

  “I know, I know. I’m thinking.” He couldn’t look at her. “Maybe I lost it in the water,” he muttered, turning to look over his shou
lder. It would be useless to search for it in the churning waves.

  “Alex,” Sky said, shaking him. “What are we going to do? And what about Florence? She’s going down!”

  Alex drew in a breath. “We’ll make another component. We have to.”

  “There’s no time for that!” Sky cried. “The moss needs to dry, the loom is in the shelter—and the storm is getting stronger. Plus one component won’t help save Florence!” She looked around wildly and gripped her head in frustration. “Where’s Spike?” she asked, knowing full well that Spike was probably waiting exactly where Lani had told her to go, on the opposite side of the storm’s circumference.

  “Florence will be okay,” Alex said, though the thought of her plummeting to the bottom of the sea gave him a stomachache. “She will. She said she will.”

  “But what about us? How will our friends know what happened? They’ll think we drowned, Alex—we have to do something. Now.”

  “Maybe the squirrelicorns will come back for us,” Alex said, but wasn’t at all confident about it—the squirrelicorns always waited for orders from him or Florence, and neither were there to give them. Alex could hardly stand hearing Sky’s pleas—he didn’t know what to do. There was nothing he could do, not now at least. The thunder crashed and the sea churned as the wind began to howl once more. Sky and Alex looked at each other, and at Florence, who barely skimmed the waves now, three quarters of the way to the ship.

  When all seemed lost, a shout rose up on a wind gust behind them. Alex and Sky turned to see Ishibashi running full speed toward them, screaming at the top of his lungs and waving his hands wildly as if his life depended on it. For right behind him, flying low over the rocky island, was an enormous, roaring, stone cheetah.

  To the Rescue

  The giant cat soared over Ishibashi’s head. “Sprrread aparrrt and grrrab on to my wings!” he called out to Alex and Sky, and without hesitating, the two dashed in opposite directions. As the cat flew between them, they jumped into the air and grabbed on to the tips of his wings. Simber flipped them up and held steady while they scrambled to his back. They soared out over the water toward the ship.

  Sky had the good sense to wave to Ishibashi, trying to let him know that the strange creature was a friend, not a foe, but the little man kept yelling. Eventually he gave up and just stood there, watching them go. He grew smaller as Simber flew.

  “That was pretty good timing, Sim,” Alex shouted over the storm, hanging on tightly as the wind grew to near-hurricane strength. “Nothing like waiting until the last second.”

  Simber growled in laughter. “This isn’t overrr yet,” he said. “Both of you need to move off my back and onto the base of my wings forrr a few minutes.”

  Sky and Alex obeyed, sliding their grip a little at a time as they inched in opposite directions.

  “Arrre you hanging on all rrright?” he asked Sky, who hadn’t had as much experience riding on Simber’s back as Alex had.

  “B-b-barely,” Sky said, her teeth chattering as she moved up and down with the flap of Simber’s wings. “But there’s no way I’m letting go.”

  “Good,” Simber replied.

  They closed in on Florence, who was almost completely submerged now. It was amazing that the carpets had kept going this long—Florence was clearly trying every magic spell she could think of to help sustain them, but they were sinking fast. And the ship wasn’t far off. Alex could see everybody lined up at the railing, cheering at the sight of Simber and watching the rescue.

  “Wherrre’s Spike?” asked Simber.

  “We sent her to the other side of the island by mistake,” Alex shouted over the rumble of thunder. “It’s a long story.”

  “So we’rrre going to have to do this without herrr, then,” Simber said. “Sky, Alex, be rrready. We’rrre heading underrr waterrr. Just flatten out on top of my wings and hang on, that’s all you have to do. Hold yourrr brrreath and don’t let go.”

  “Got it!” Sky yelled.

  “Me too,” called out Alex.

  “Herrre we go!”

  The two took giant breaths. Simber plunged under the surface of the water and plowed through it. Sky and Alex held their breath and hung on, and soon Florence’s thirty-four carpets were above them. Simber glided upward until Alex and Sky felt a bump, and they knew that Florence and her carpets were now resting on Simber’s back. The overworked carpets began to pop and disappear in the water as they traveled along.

  When Simber slowed, Alex watched through the water as Florence nimbly rose to her haunches, half out of the water, balancing on Simber’s back. They sank a bit as the carpets popped and disappeared, but the cheetah flapped his wings and kicked his legs, trying desperately to keep the warrior from sinking them all completely.

  A minute later, the water grew brighter and Alex could tell the sun had appeared above them. They’d made it out of the hurricane’s circle! And just when Alex’s lungs were about to give out, a large shadow came over him. He looked up through the water. The ship!

  Soon a rope slapped the surface above him, and Alex needed no further urging. He pushed off of Simber’s wing and swam to the surface, grabbed on to the rope, and looked around for Sky. She was on the other side of Simber, holding a rope of her own and beginning to scale the side of the ship. Lani and Henry stood at the ship’s railing, pulling her up. Alex began climbing as well, with Samheed pulling him from above.

  Florence cautiously rose to her feet and grabbed the ship’s railing, trying to lighten Simber’s load a bit. Once Alex and Sky had made it on board, everyone ran to the opposite side of the deck to help balance the weight and hung on tightly while Florence began an awkward climb, rocking the vessel crazily from side to side, but managing to keep all the passengers on board.

  The crew cheered when she eased over the edge. Finally Florence centered herself on the deck, and the ship sat steady once more. Almost everyone flopped to the deck, either from being sent off balance or simply because they were exhausted and breathless. A moment later, Simber rose up out of the water and shook himself dry as the Artiméans greeted him with great enthusiasm.

  Brushing off the praise, Simber simply nodded his greetings and took his usual place hovering over the back of the ship. Within minutes, everything seemed strangely back to normal again.

  Well, almost.

  Once Captain Ahab had steered the ship all the way around the hurricane to the other side of the island, and once Spike’s faux diamond–studded spike was flashing prettily in the sun nearby, they turned toward home.

  Simber, flying off to one side, took a long hard look at the vessel’s unusual patch job, and shook his head. He turned toward Alex and the others, who were resting on the deck, soaking up the sun, and asked, “What in the worrrld have you done to Marrrcus’s ship?”

  Doubts Arise

  After stewing half the night over the troubling meeting with General Blair, Aaron spent the morning alone, pressing oil, deep in thought. It was unsettling. Why had the general been so dismissive of Aaron? Was General Blair only using him for the oil? Didn’t he see that Aaron was a worthy and smart leader? After all, Aaron had offered him a portion of the mansion once they took over Artimé. Why wouldn’t he let Aaron take part in the actual battle?

  Granted, he’d mucked up the first one, but he was older and wiser now. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes again. Besides, he was the high priest of Quill. That he had made it to this point must mean something. Yet the general had become extremely standoffish with Aaron now that he’d gotten the oil he needed. And his commanding Aaron to hide in the secured palace until it was all over seemed especially unfair. What was the general planning to do—keep him locked away, and then come and fetch him once the Quillitary had taken ownership of the mansion?

  With a jolt of fear, Aaron froze in his work. He looked up, and then all around, a sort of dazed expression on his face. “Wait a second,” he muttered. Did the general have a secret sinister plan of his own? What if General Blair moved
into the mansion and then decided he didn’t want to share it with anybody?

  Aaron left the contraption mid-press, stumbled from the room, and ran up the stairs, all the way up to Liam’s quarters at the very top of the palace, and pounded on the door.

  “Good heavens!” Liam shouted. “What’s the matter?” No one had ever come up to his room before, so it was rather startling.

  Aaron flung open the door. “General Blair is working against us, Liam. I’ve figured it out. He’s using me for the oil, and when he attacks, he’s going to take over Artimé and keep everything for himself!”

  Liam’s jaw dropped. “What?”

  “He wants the mansion, you fool! Don’t you see?”

  Liam rose from his desk, where the sack of components rested. “High Priest, I’m afraid I don’t see. What in Quill are you talking about?”

  Aaron’s eyes blazed. “I’m talking about the general’s dismissive nature once I gave him the oil. Did you notice it? He wouldn’t let me participate in the discussion, and he basically told me I’m to board up the palace and wait inside for him to win the battle. Didn’t you hear that? Weren’t you there?”

  “Of course I was there,” Liam said. He was really getting irritated with the way Aaron spoke to him. He bit his tongue, remembering Eva, and said smoothly, “I think that General Blair is just trying to hold up his end of the bargain. You provided him with the oil, and now he will do his part by attacking Artimé and taking it over on behalf of Quill.”

  Aaron shook his head. “No, Liam. You don’t get it. I have made mistakes before, but I’m not going to make another one, and General Blair is a mistake! He’s trying to keep me out of the way so he can dethrone Alex and take over Artimé. He’s trying to steal what is rightfully mine!”

  Liam stared.

  Aaron closed his lips. He held Liam’s gaze, and then grew pale. “I mean . . .” He faltered.

  It was like a waterfall of understanding pouring over Liam. He stood quietly as the pieces fell into place in his mind—things he’d failed to grasp all this time. His eyes darted to the bag of useless components that Meghan had given him to trick Aaron, and then he looked at the high priest once more, seeing him for what he was: a pathetic, regretful young man who couldn’t seem to figure out for himself who he was and what he truly wanted.

 

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