Island of Legends (The Unwanteds) (33 page)

Alex elbowed Simber, who uncovered his ears to hear Kitten’s next statement.

“Mewmewmew! Mewmewmew!” said Kitten.

Fox nodded intently at his friend, and then he rose on his haunches and put his front paws out toward his audience, setting the scene. “Imagine it, friends. A real, live human kitten loses her mother to a tragic bus accident. Left alone and in the wild, a kindly mage named Mr. Today . . .
LaRue
 . . . takes her in, saving her from starvation and other things human cats have, like fleas and litter boxes and icky things like that. He transforms her sickly body into a statue—and not just any ordinary statue like that freak Ahab, or Florence here, but one of his
top
statues who actually get to play in the lounge band.” He nodded enthusiastically. “It’s a rags-to-riches story for one cool Kitten and her friend, coincidentally also a cat, named Fox—Fox LaRue—who is in no way a member of the Cananadada family, because those are what dogs are made of.”

Fox paused for effect, or to see if Kitten was going to mew again—no one was quite sure. “And that,” he said finally, bowing, “is the very true story of Kitten LaRue and how she saved the snow lion queen named Lhasa. Thank you, thank you all. Thank you very, very much.” Fox blew kisses to everyone but Simber.

Almost everyone clapped. Kitten beamed at Fox, clapping her paws together so that they made a tiny
tink tink tink
noise. She hopped on top of Fox’s head and settled down in his fur.

“But Fox didn’t explain how Kitten saved me,” whispered Lhasa.

Talon chuckled and applauded harder, clearly tickled by the Fox’s strange, senseless story. “Bravo, friend Fox,” he said. “You are a masterful storyteller and a very fine cat.” He turned to Alex. “That was most entertaining. Does Simber have a version to tell?”

Alex looked over at Simber and tapped his shoulder. “He’s done now. Your turn.”

Simber slid his paws off his ears and sat up, clearly trying to wipe the look of disgust from his face. “Verrry well,” he said. He bowed his head once, regally, in Kitten’s direction. “I shall hope to do this story the justice it deserrrves.”

Alex smiled. It wasn’t common for Simber to verbalize his respect for anyone, so he knew that Simber must really think highly of Kitten. He sat forward in anticipation so he could capture every word.

Simber began. “When Mrrr. Today was a boy, a little olderrr
than Alex, he set out frrrom Warrrblerrr Island on a jourrrney with his sister to discoverrr a new island. They took few items with them. Likely some food and waterrr. A rope, perrrhaps, and some tools and textiles. As they pushed off frrrom the shorrre, theirrr motherrr called to them. ‘Stop!’ she said. ‘Take this, and rrrememberrr me.’ She tossed something to Marrrcus, and he caught it. It was a tiny white porrrcelain kitten, no biggerrr than a marrrshmallow.”

Fox looked at Simber like he was crazy.

Simber ignored Fox. “Yearrrs passed, and Marrrcus kept the kitten safe in his pocket, taking her out often and thinking of his motherrr. One day, afterrr he’d made otherrr crrreaturrres and statues come to life, he looked at the kitten and thought, ‘This kitten should be alive.’ And so the mage brrreathed life into the tiny porcelain statue. As he perrrforrrmed the spell, he thought, ‘Therrre was one thing that I did not do with Simberrr that I wish I had done. I grrrant to this kitten nine lives, for cats arrre in constant dangerrr, and she should live a long and prrrosperrrous life. What I did not do beforrre, I will do now. Kitten, you shall live nine times beforrre yourrr end comes. And,’ the mage added, almost as an afterrrthought,
‘you shall have the ability to give up one life to anotherrr cat in need if you so choose.’ ”

Simber paused for a moment. Everyone was silent, realizing that this was a very different story from the one Fox had told.

“When the mage was finished casting the spell, the kitten’s body warrrmed and she sprrrang to life, mewing instead of talking—in his quest to give Kitten nine lives, Marrrcus forrrgot to grrrant it the ability to speak to humans.” Simber chuckled, his eyes growing misty.

“He was a forrrgetful mage, indeed. But luckily, Kitten could understand Mrrr. Today. He told herrr about the special gift many years ago, but she neverrr had a need to give away the life until today. Which she did, I must add, without a moment’s hesitation.” Simber looked at Lhasa, who had tears in her eyes.

Kitten stood up on Fox’s head and hopped. “Mewmewmew,” she said.

Simber hesitated. “And now she says she is glad to be herrre with you, and she considerrrs you verrry grrreat frrriends.”

“Mewmewmew!”

“She says please don’t die again, Lhasa, because she is afrrraid she has no morrre lives left to give.”

Lhasa smiled, knowing Simber had interpreted perfectly. “I shall keep that in mind and be very careful from now on, dear Kitten.”

“Mewmewmew.”

Simber frowned at Kitten. “Please don’t make me say that.”

Kitten gave Simber a stern look. “Mew. Mew. Mew.”

Simber’s jaw dropped open. “Oh, come on.”

“Mew!”

Simber rolled his eyes. “All rrright.” He sighed, and then mumbled, “She says she is changing herrr name, and would like to be called Kitten LaRrrue, if you please, but only if you want to—it’s totally up to you.”

A
aron could easily hide his bandaged shoulder under a fresh robe, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. And the pain definitely affected his ability to concentrate and make good decisions. This particular evening he found himself staring out the window at the forty-foot wall where the opening used to be, contemplating the removal of just a block or two, when Secretary came in.

Eva updated Aaron on how Quill had been reacting to his latest address.

“It’s all very favorable,” she said, almost puzzled. “No one
is pushing back. It’s like they all really wanted this sort of extreme structure again.”

“It’s not extreme,” Aaron said. “It’s comfortable.”

“Well, whatever you want to call it. They’re welcoming it.”

“Obviously I know what I’m doing.”

Eva sighed. Sometimes Aaron’s arrogance was just a little too much. “Don’t let the power go to your head. You need to take it slow,” she said. “Whatever you’re planning on doing, stop and think a bit first, will you? If you’re going to take over Artimé, be calculated about it. Get everything in order before you start a war.”

Aaron gave her a chilling glance. “I know what I’m doing,” he said again.

She stared at him. He was so naive. “So does Gondoleery,” she blurted out. “Only she’s doing it right. You’d better watch out.”

“Please. Don’t be ridiculous,” Aaron said. “Gondoleery is a crazy old woman who burned off her own eyebrows. She’s not a threat to anybody but herself. Besides, I’m watching her. She’s working for me, after all.”

“Keep thinking like that,” Eva said, fuming. “You’ll get us all killed.”

“Now
you’re
the one acting crazy,” Aaron said, his voice cold.

Eva stared. “I’m the one trying to help you be more like Justine, but you’re too busy being an ignorant, arrogant child to listen to me.” Eva Fathom turned on her heel and strode out, muttering under her breath.

“You may not speak to me like that!” Aaron yelled after her. “Come back here!” He waited, his face puckered and getting redder by the minute. But she didn’t return.

After a while Aaron went to bed, but he tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Secretary infuriated him time and time again—he really didn’t know why he put up with her insolence. She was constantly picking at him. Telling him he was doing things wrong. Trying to take his power away. And now she was insulting him to his face. He’d never quite trusted her, and now he once more questioned his decision to keep her on.

Slowly his anger fizzled and his thoughts turned back to the jungle and the half-formed idea he’d had after his conversation with the rock.
Panther would do anything for me
. That’s how the rock had made it sound, anyway, and Aaron was eager to test it out. With Quill paying close attention at the moment, maybe
it was time to let Artimé get a taste of what was to come.

He couldn’t get the crazy idea out of his mind—let
them
live in fear for once. Let Artimé see who was in charge on this island, and whom they should be scared of. Because everybody needed to face the truth. Aaron was tired of people not respecting him. His brother had to be taught a lesson. And so did Secretary. He’d show her that her constant undermining was only going to serve as incentive for him to do exactly the opposite of what she told him to do. And he’d be right every time.

By the time he finally drifted off to sleep, Aaron Stowe had hatched a surefire plan that would get him the attention and the respect that he deserved. And Artimé would get the smallest hint of what would become their nightmare.

B
efore long, Fox and Kitten curled up on Lhasa’s furry side to sleep. Alex dozed off near the fire, and Simber did too, since there was nothing else to do. Florence went out on the claw reef to check on the ship, finding everyone dead asleep, including her detached arm—it didn’t move a muscle. Ms. Octavia would have to reattach it in the morning. In the lagoon she spied the tip of Spike’s spike as the whale floated near the surface, sleeping as well. And then she saw a long tentacle herding a squirming eel’s tail toward the crab’s open mouth. All was good.

Florence wandered over to Talon’s castle of palms to check
on the patient, and there she found everyone sleeping as well, even the octogator. Sean moaned quietly in his sleep, and Carina reached out to comfort him with a touch. Peace had come, finally, but not without a price.

Florence walked back to the fire to find Talon waiting for her.

“Do you sleep?” he asked.

“Not often, but I’ve been known to doze off every few weeks. Do you?”

“I do, but sleep eludes me tonight. How is your arm?”

“It’s . . . fine. It’s just lying in the ship.”

Talon chuckled. “What I mean is, do you have any pain in the place where it should be?”

“No. It’s inconvenient to be without it, but I’m lucky—I have no pain. Which reminds me of something I’ve been meaning to ask you about. That eel lit you up like a fireball. I was afraid for you.”

Talon looked at her with a crooked smile. “Were you? Afraid for me?”

Florence felt her face grow warm. “I was afraid for everyone,” she said. “Do you feel pain?”

“Some.” He didn’t elaborate. Instead he looked at the fire and
said, “To be honest, I’ve had days when I wished I could let myself be killed, for I have had a lifetime of lifetimes. My body is not invincible, and that eel could have taken me from this never-ending monotony and into the next life. I would be lying if I said I didn’t consider letting it. Or taking your arrow meant for the eel.”

Florence tried to think what it would be like, living thousands of years, caring for the life and accessories of a giant crab. “But you didn’t.”

“Taking the arrow was only a fraction of a second’s thought before I realized how it would make you feel, so that was never a true consideration. And I have others who depend on me. Lhasa, Karkinos. Bock. Even the hibagon, to some extent. But they would survive without me if they had to. Though the crab . . .” Talon trailed off.

“What is it?”

Talon looked at her. “I don’t wish to trouble you.”

“Tell me, Talon. Please. Perhaps we can help.”

Like any great leader in tune with the needs of others, Alex’s eyes popped open at Florence’s words. He turned to face the fire and began to listen to the nearby conversation, unnoticed by Florence and Talon.

“I don’t know,” Talon said, his voice full of doubt. A shadow passed over his face. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do.” He looked out at the crab’s claws, silent and floating before them. “I’m afraid Karkinos is dying.”

Florence sat up. “Oh no,” she said, dismayed. “I’m sorry. How horrible for all of you.”

He didn’t deny it. “He’s not in pain, thank the gods. But . . .”

“But what?”

Talon sighed deeply. “I don’t know what will happen once he’s . . . gone.”