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Authors: Lisa McMann

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Henry looked inside it, and his face lit up.

“You, greenhouse!” Sato said proudly.

“Oh, thank you, Sato-san!” said Henry. “I will build my own magical greenhouse, I promise.”

Ishibashi handed him a small container of the glowing
seaweed. “Remember, the bad can be greater than the good,” he reminded Henry. “But the good is worth having. Choose wisely and be thoughtful, Henry-san. Most of all, remember what I said. Understanding and consent.”

Henry nodded solemnly. “I will remember. I promise. Thank you for everything, Ishibashi-san.” He slipped the container of seaweed into the inner pocket of his component vest and placed the seeds in the outer pocket, leaving room to replenish the remaining ones with all the new components the others had made during their time here. He looked up at the old man. “I will never forget you as long as I live.” He reached out and hugged the little man.

“The same is true for me,” Ishibashi said, patting Henry on the back. There was a hint of sadness in his voice.

» » « «

That night, Alex gathered everyone together around the fire, and as the wind howled, he explained the plan for the next morning.

“As soon as the storm dies down,” he said, “Lani, would you please run to the lagoon and tell Spike to make a break for the open sea? I want her to swim without stopping all the way around to the south side of the island—the side the ship
is on—and continue straight out from there to beyond the storm's circumference. Tell her not to stop fighting the current until there's sunshine overhead and she can swim freely. We will meet her there.”

“Got it,” Lani said.

“Good. Once you've spoken to Spike, meet us on the ship side of the island. Squirrelicorns, once I use the transport spell, I want you to fly up high and watch for the ship to appear. As soon as you spot it, come back down and point us in the right direction. Then three of you take Captain Ahab, and the other three take Copper to the ship.”

“Three, sir?” asked a squirrelicorn. “We can do it with two.”

“I don't want to risk it. It's going to be a long flight for you as it is, and with the winds, I want to make sure you have more than enough power to fight through it and get Ahab and Copper there safely.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” said the squirrelicorns in unison.

Alex sought out Copper. “Are you comfortable with that?”

“I prefer it to a flying carpet,” Copper said with a smile. “The squirrelicorns have served me well. Thank you, Alex.”

“Captain?”

“Aye,” said the captain, sounding a bit saner than he ever had before. “Anything to feel the sea beneath my leg again.”

“Great,” Alex said. “So that leaves the rest of us to get to the ship using the magic carpets.”

Sky and Crow looked at each other nervously.

“Sam and Lani and I have been testing them,” Alex said. He turned to Samheed. “Will you demonstrate, please?”

Samheed got up and took out a small square of green from his component vest. He threw it to the floor of the shelter, where it grew into a large square, and sat on it. “Across the room,” he commanded.

The carpet lifted Samheed several feet off the ground and slowly transported him, then dumped him off rather unceremoniously at the other end of the room. “Oof,” he said. He got up and dusted off his pants. “We're still fine-tuning it,” he said, “and we don't have a permanent version figured out yet, but it does the job we need it to do for now, which is getting us to the ship.”

“Our longest flight lasted about ten minutes before the carpet collapsed and disappeared,” Lani said. “Just make sure you tell it where you want it to go as soon as you are settled
on it. You're going to need every minute of spell time.”

Florence cleared her throat from the doorway. “Alex,” she said, looking down at her large body, “I'm not sure . . . I mean, how exactly . . . ?”

Alex nodded. “I know. It's a risk because we don't know how many carpets it will take to lift you, and we don't have enough components to do a test run. We'll have to figure it out on the spot in the morning.”

“But what if it doesn't work?” Ms. Octavia asked, alarmed. “We can't leave without Florence.”

“We won't,” Alex said. “There has to be another way. Florence, you'd be able to walk out to a point beyond the storm, right?”

“Sure,” Florence replied, “but I don't think Spike can lift me all the way to the surface. Don't worry, though, Octavia—it's not ideal, but I can walk all the way to Artimé if I have to. It just might take a month.”

“All right,” Ms. Octavia said, “but don't forget about that eel, and no one knows what other creatures live underwater. If something happens to you, how will we find out? I don't like that plan at all.”

“We'll get her to the ship,” Alex promised. But Ms. Octavia's reminder made him nervous.

Sky couldn't hide her concern. “Alex, I don't think Crow and I can command a magic carpet. We're not good with that stuff. Not good enough, anyway, to try and control something like this, with all the rain and wind and . . . well, I'm worried about it. I don't think it's safe for us.”

Alex smiled. “I'm sorry you're worried—I was getting to that. Samheed and I tested a carpet with both of us sitting on it, and it carried us fine. It just goes a little slower. So you and Crow can each ride along with someone else if you feel more comfortable.”

Sky let out a nervous breath. “Yes, please.”

“You can ride with me if you want,” Alex said. His eyes held hers, and he willed her not to look away.

Everyone around them had witnessed the tension between them throughout the entire journey, whether they wanted to or not, and now they sat silent, watching.

Sky pressed her lips together and swallowed hard. “All right. That sounds fine,” she said.

“Good,” said Alex softly. He smiled again and straightened
up, addressing the group once more. “And, Crow, you can go with Samheed or Lani.”

Crow eyed them both. “Lani, please,” he said.

Samheed pretended to be offended. “What, you don't trust me?”

“Not as much as I trust her,” he said, pointing to Lani.

“Good choice,” Lani said, poking Samheed with her elbow.

“I guess Fox and Kitten are stuck with me,” Samheed said.

Fox gave Samheed a wary look, but Kitten seemed pleased.

Alex wrapped up the meeting with a few more details about the next day's plan, then dismissed everyone to tidy up the shelter and prepare for the hasty departure in the morning.

Late that night, when Alex had finished inspecting the shelter to make sure they were leaving Ishibashi's home in perfect shape, he found Sky hunched over the loom.

He leaned over next to her. “What are you doing?” he whispered.

She looked up, weary. “Oh, hi. I thought I'd try and make a few more magic carpet components in case we need them for Florence. Can you instill them with magic or are you too tired?”

Alex flopped down next to her, exhausted. “I'm not too tired.”

He picked up a component and held it, closed his eyes, and pictured the job the carpet was supposed to do.
Fly
, he thought, over and over.
Fly, fly, fly.

Once the magic took hold, Alex placed the component inside his vest pocket and picked up another one.
Fly, fly, fly.

He did this for each of the components. Finally there was only one left.

Fly, fly, fly,
he thought.
To the sky. Sky. Sky.

Sky.

When he opened his eyes and placed the last instilled component inside his pocket, he saw that Sky was watching him, a curious look on her face.

“What's up?” he asked.

“What do you think about when you close your eyes?” she asked.

Alex looked at her, her silky orange eyes catching light from the fire, her hair falling against her cheek, her lips soft and full.

“You really want to know?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“I think about you,” he said.

Aaron Ventures Out

A
aron watched over the oil press workers more intensely than he'd watched over anything in his entire life.

“Crank it harder,” he instructed, hovering over the guards. “For the best results, you have to twist your wrist just so as you do it.”

The guards complied with all of the high priest's whims, even when they changed from hour to hour, or minute to minute. It was clear the high priest was quite possessive of his masterpiece—so possessive that he hardly ever left the conference room where the machine now sat. He even slept
in snatches in the corner, surrounded by empty barrels.

Sometimes Aaron took a turn at the crank when he was feeling angsty, just to remind the workers that he was the best at it. And sometimes he'd kick them out completely and take an entire shift, which is exactly what happened each time the oil neared the fill line inside a barrel. There was something so rewarding about pressing the last possible drop of oil into a barrel and sealing the top.

One barrel of oil probably would be enough to impress General Blair, Aaron knew. But two—two would blow him away. Unlike the watered-down chicken fat that the Quillitary had been using for years, this viscous oil would last a very long time. The desert heat wouldn't make it evaporate, and the vehicles wouldn't need much of it at all to get their engines working smoothly. Still, Aaron wanted to impress the general so much that he'd have no hesitation in giving Aaron a key role in their plan of attack on Artimé.

Finally the moment came when the second barrel could hold not one more drop. Aaron carefully placed the lid on top and sealed it. He commanded his guards to load the barrels of oil into the back of a Quillitary vehicle.

As they did so, Aaron watched like a hawk over their every move out the door and to the vehicle. Just as they were finished, Liam strode up the driveway from Quill and joined the high priest.

The governor looked at Aaron. “All finished with the oil, then?”

“For now, at least,” Aaron said. He squinted in the sunlight, which seemed all the brighter without Quill's wall, and looked around. It had been weeks since he'd gone outside. The enormous wall was completely toppled as far as he could see in both directions, and the rubble had been pushed down the hill and smoothed out all the way to the edge of the sea. It looked rugged, and actually rather nice. And while Aaron had hardly noticed the outside work because of his other preoccupation, he now felt terribly exposed.

“The breeze is pleasant,” Liam said. “It's much cooler now, don't you think?”

Aaron's heart palpitated. “I suppose,” he said.

“Have you been down by the water yet?”

“No.”

Liam glanced nervously at Aaron. “It's nice. The water is warm.
It's all right for bathing, but it tastes terrible. Word is that you can actually eat the, ah, the animals that live in the sea—do you know anything about that? Gondoleery was telling people about the sea animals when she was hanging around by the amphitheater the other day. She and Governor Strang took groups to the water to show them how to catch the, ah, the food.”

“Fish,” Aaron muttered. “They're called fish.”

“Ah, yes, right—fish. I wasn't familiar. With the name for them, I mean.” Liam clasped his hands in front of him. “So anyway, people seem to like the water once they get over the fright of seeing it everywhere.”

“Hmm,” Aaron said. He wondered if he'd ever get over the fright of it.

“It's making you look good.”

“The fish?”

“No, the wall coming down.”

“Is it?” Aaron looked at Liam.

“Yes, indeed,” Liam said. “Quite good.”

“And are Gondoleery and Strang also doing what they're supposed to be doing, helping the Wanteds get angry about Artimé's attack on Secretary?”

Liam opened his mouth, and then closed it. “That . . . ? I don't know. I hadn't seen Gondoleery for weeks as I mentioned to you some time ago, and then out of nowhere she appeared in the commons, looking quite, ah, quite normal for once, actually.”

Aaron didn't much care to discuss Gondoleery's appearance. She was disturbing from the inside, and that was all that mattered. It was less stressful not to think about her at all. He stared at the sparkling sea and sucked in a breath, then blew it out slowly and glanced at the jalopy, loaded with the oil barrels, the driver waiting patiently in the front seat. “I suppose I should go down to the water at least once,” he said.

“If I may be so bold, I'd say I advise it, based on the positive reaction Gondoleery is getting from the Wanteds. They seem quite supportive of her and her recent interactions with the people. If you understand my meaning.” Liam had tried several times to make Aaron aware of Gondoleery's sneaky ways, but he couldn't force the high priest to listen, and he didn't have any real proof that Gondoleery was a threat—only what Eva had suggested and what little bit Liam had seen of her strange practices.

BOOK: Island of Shipwrecks
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