Island of Legends (The Unwanteds) (18 page)

In another corner was a beautiful, long-necked sea monster with stout legs and flipperlike feet. As she moved, several humps along her back rose and fell in a rippling pattern.

There were some smaller creatures too, swimming or floating about.

Alex, Carina, Sky, and Simber all stared.

Suddenly light flickered near the aquarium and the creatures inside all startled and moved away from one side of their prison. A familiar shape came into view just as the volcano shuddered harder, threatening to plunge beneath the sea.

It was the giant eel, curled up like a bedspring outside the aquarium. With a touch of its electric tail to a switch on the glass, a door slid open. In one swift motion the eel unfurled, and a new creature torpedoed into the cage. The door slid
closed and the eel shot out of sight, leaving the captured creatures to marvel over their new cellmate.

Carina gasped. It was Florence.

Her ebony body sank to the bottom of the glass cage, and she didn’t move.

Alex shouted, Simber growled, and the volcano groaned. Shaking violently, the entire island and all its inhabitants and attachments plunged into the sea.

A
aron Stowe waited impatiently for his guests to arrive. After his near epiphany the other night and his newfound powers in the jungle, Aaron was more eager than ever to have other people help him reorganize, reenergize, and rebuild Quill into something much more powerful than it had ever been before. He was anxious to take control of Artimé once and for all.

He knew he had many of the Necessaries on his side—he’d seen to that by giving them food incentives from the Favored Farm. But Aaron could feel the Wanteds distancing themselves. They hadn’t gotten much extra attention when the Necessaries
did—only a few Unwanteds to use as slaves, which they had to share. And they hadn’t had any personal interaction with the government in a while. It was time to bring them back into the fold and remind them how awful it was that Artimé existed. Once Aaron had them back to full devotion, he could slowly reel in the Quillitary once more. When he had everyone’s support, combined with the ferocious jungle animals, Aaron would be invincible. He’d take over Artimé, and maybe even the island where those ships had come from.

He even dared picture himself living luxuriously in the mansion in Artimé, ruling over everything. . . . It felt wrong and good at the same time. How would he justify that to the others? It might take some convincing to get them to see that it wasn’t the mansion they took issue with—it was the people inside it.

Eva Fathom cleared her throat. Aaron looked up to find her standing in the doorway to his office.

“What is it?”

“It’s nearly eight. Shall I summon Liam Healy for dinner?” Eva asked. Liam’s home in Quill had been taken over when he went to the Ancients Sector, so Eva had found a small room for him at the top of the palace tower. She’d chosen it
for Liam because it had an interesting view overlooking all of Quill, including a close-up view of the barbed-wire ceiling, since the tower helped support it. The room held a few of Justine’s things: a dressing table and chair, a few moth-eaten black robes, and a bucket that had once contained a plant.

Aaron shoved his chair back and went to the window to look down over the driveway. “Is anyone else here?”

“No.”

Aaron’s eyes strayed to the outer wall, where the window to the sea had been. He frowned at the cement blocks and tapped his fingers on the windowsill. “Let’s wait. I thought you said they’d be coming.”

“No, I said there was a chance.”

“How did you invite them? Were you polite?”

“More polite than you would have been,” Eva said.

Aaron strained to look down the drive toward the portcullis. “Someone’s coming, I think,” he said. He could feel a tiny shred of excitement building up, and he didn’t try to stop it. How long had it been since he’d had any company at all? Besides grumpy old Eva Fathom, of course. “Call Liam.”

“Am I to join you for dinner?” Eva asked.

Aaron turned around to look at her. He stared for a moment. “I suppose. I hadn’t thought about you.”

Eva offered a thin smile. “Of course you hadn’t.” Whatever sarcasm was in her voice went undetected. “Please accompany yourself to the dining room in five minutes.”

Aaron nodded and turned back to the window. “Perhaps six minutes so I don’t appear too eager.”

“Oh, just make it ten, then.” Eva whisked down the hallway, shaking her head.

Liam and Eva arrived in the dining room just as former governor Strang was ushered in. He had cleaned up quite well—his hair was cut short, his mustache shaved, and his beard trimmed neatly. He wore fresh clothing, though his protruding belly threatened to burst the buttons on his jacket. He almost looked like a fine young man in his early twenties once more, rather than a middle-aged slob who had given up on life.

“Good evening, Secretary,” Strang said nervously as Eva and Liam entered. He held his hand out to Liam. “Hello. I’m Septimus Strang.”

“Of course, Governor,” Liam said. “Liam Healy, at your service.”

Strang laughed uneasily. “Former. Ah, governor . . . that is.” He pulled a wrinkled hankie from his pocket and wiped his forehead.

“As you wish. Well met, sir,” Liam said.

“Certainly.” Strang looked at Eva with a pained expression. “Is it just us tonight, then?”

“No, no. The high priest will be along presently. He’s had a very busy day and is running a bit behind. Help yourself.” Eva pointed to a table, where a tray with a pitcher of water and some glasses rested. “There may be one more guest as well. I’m not sure.”

Strang hurried over to the table, poured a glass of water with a shaky hand, and gulped it down. He poured a second glass and held on to it.

Liam looked around the room. The palace was a bit fancier than anything he’d seen in Quill before, but it was just as colorless and uninviting. After catching a glimpse of Artimé, everything here looked bland.

A moment later Aaron entered the room wearing one of Justine’s black robes. He looked to Eva.

Eva withheld the urge to laugh at how ridiculous he looked,
and announced, “May I please present the High Priest Aaron? High Priest, I believe you are well acquainted with former Governor Strang and Liam Healy.”

Aaron held a limp hand out to the others as Justine had done when he’d first dined with her.

Strang hesitated, and then awkwardly bowed over Aaron’s hand without actually touching it. “May Quill prevail with all I have in me,” he said. He’d taught that very mantra to Aaron when the boy first went to university.

Liam frowned but followed Strang’s lead. “May Quill prevail . . . ,” he said, and left it at that.

There was a noise at the palace entry. Eva looked at Aaron and raised her eyebrow. Aaron lifted his chin and strained to hear. They didn’t have to wait long to discover that Gondoleery Rattrapp had arrived.

The guard at the door tried to accompany her, but the eccentric old woman pushed ahead and burst into the room, wearing a bright orange cape over her drab Quill clothing. Her hair stood on end, and her face was as red and blistery as it had been the day before—perhaps even more so. There were several fresh burn marks on her forearms and fingers.

“Hello,” she said. Aaron held his hand out so Gondoleery could give the proper greeting, but she breezed past and went over to the tray to pour herself some water. She dipped her burned fingers into the glass.

Aaron gaped and put his limp hand down. He hadn’t seen Gondoleery since before the Restorers attacked Artimé. She’d changed quite a bit from their days of plotting outside the palace gate.

“Good evening, Gondoleery,” Eva said. “What a shocking cape you’re wearing. Wherever did you find something so . . . colorful?”

“I used orange and red peppers from the Favored Farm as a dye,” she said. “They stained my fingers, so I figured they would stain cloth as well.”

Aaron frowned and glanced at Strang, who was appropriately frowning too. Aaron held his tongue, but he knew Justine would not approve of color like that in clothing. And neither would he.

Soon they were all seated around the table, and kitchen workers brought the food in and placed it before the guests. Aaron nodded at Secretary in approval—it was a fine-looking meal, for once.

Gondoleery attacked her food as if the chicken on her plate
were still alive and running wild. Liam tried not to scarf his down, but he hadn’t been eating well at the Ancients Sector and it showed in his thin body—he was hungry.

Strang savored his food. “This is a lot better than when Justine was high priest,” he said to no one in particular, but then gave Aaron a fearful look. “I hope it’s all right for me to say that. I mean no disrespect to her. I think it must be so delicious because of your Favored Farm.”

“I’m always pleased to hear about how our people are enjoying the improvements in Quill,” Aaron said. The forks and knives resumed clicking and clanking. After a moment Aaron turned to Gondoleery. “How did you hurt your hands?”

“I didn’t,” Gondoleery said. She stabbed at a potato and missed.

Aaron looked at the woman’s burns. “Are you sure?”

“Quite sure.” She looked at him, fork poised to stab the potato once more. “So, High Priest, how do you plan to keep Quill from being attacked now that the idiots in Artimé have been attracting visitors?”

“I have plans,” Aaron said. “But I’m curious, how would you do it?”

“It’s not my problem now, is it?” Gondoleery skewered the potato, popped it in her mouth, and set down her fork as she chewed.

“Well, that’s what I’d like to talk to you all about,” Aaron said. “I’ve invited you here because I’m looking to bring back governors to the ruling board in Quill. I need people who will appeal to the Wanteds yet keep the Necessaries from revolt.” He looked around the table, from Liam to Gondoleery to Strang. “I’d like you to be my governors, and I hope you will consider it.”

“What’s in it for us?” Gondoleery asked, picking her teeth with a charred fingernail. “Besides work?”

Aaron smiled.
At last,
he thought. He pushed back his plate, set his utensils down, and folded his hands in front of him. “My dear Gondoleery, I’m so very glad you asked.”

F
lorence!” Alex shouted. But there was no chance Florence could hear him. She was stuck inside the glass cage, plunging farther and farther beneath the sea.

Simber circled above the water, with Alex, Carina, and Sky all straining to see below the surface. It was no use.

“Shall we go down after her?” Carina said, ready to jump.

Alex put a hand on her arm. “Wait,” he said. “Let’s just think this through. The eel’s down there.”

Carina bit her lip. “Right,” she said, somewhat reluctantly.

Finally Alex directed Simber back to the ship. “We need a plan. Let’s go talk this through with the others.” He knew that
if Florence was alive, she could stay alive in that cage, and at least they knew where she was now. And if she was dead . . . well, then staying down there wouldn’t change that, either. So it was best to be cautious.

When Simber and his passengers reached the ship, Alex called a meeting and shared everything they had witnessed.

“I think we should take a team underwater to explore,” Sean said. “See how far down the island goes.”

“No way. Not with that eel slinking around,” Ms. Octavia said. “We don’t need any more of us trapped in an underwater cage. Not even I can survive more than an hour or so without air.”

Simber circled overhead, having no place to land. Fox and Kitten chattered in a corner, and Captain Ahab sat calmly on a bench, saying nothing for now.

“So
you
brrreathe,” Simber said abruptly.

Alex looked up. “What?”

“Octavia, I mean. You cannot surrrvive without airrr?”

Octavia looked up too and regarded him. “Why, yes, of course. Don’t you breathe?”

“I can smell things. But I don’t need to brrreathe to surrrvive.”
Simber swooped to the other end of the ship. “Kitten,” he said, “do you brrreathe to surrrvive?”

“Mewmewmew!” said Kitten.