Island of Fire

Sky shook her head. “No. The thorns are recent within the last several years. People began to revolt against being forced to hide and whisper all the time. When other sailors found their boats drawn to our shores because of the strong current circling our island, Warblerans started sneaking away and emerging from hiding to tell the visitors of the restrictions and try to escape with them.”

“So Queen Eagala found a way to silence the people completely,” Alex said, wonder in his voice. “How horrible.”

Sky lifted her chin high and didn’t falter.

“What about the eyes?” Claire asked from her bed in a weak voice.

“It’s our brand. Our mark that we belong to Warbler . . . in case we are ever discovered elsewhere,” she said. This time her words were tinged with bitterness. And then she looked down. “I guess the bird thing really was just to scare us, or they wouldn’t have bothered to make our eyes orange. But I think they’ll come after us eventually if they believe we survived our escape. And for that I am really sorry. If you don’t want us to stay here—”

Claire pushed up on her elbow in alarm and Alex stood up to protest. “Of course you’ll stay here!” he said. “You—and Crow, too—helped fix Artimé. I don’t care what color your eyes are. You guys are Artiméans now.” Alex flushed. “If you want to be, I mean.” He sat back down, feeling like he’d probably just overreacted a bit in his haste to assure them they had to stay. But the thought of them leaving now . . . He caught Claire and Gunnar exchanging smiles and glances, which made him flush even hotter than before.

Sky flushed too.

Florence squelched an ebony smile and saved them by saying, “They’ll have to get past Simber and me first. But let’s turn our thoughts back to Lani and Samheed, and how we’re going to find them in that maze.”

“Right.” Alex looked back at the map and studied it some more. “Thousands of people hidden above and under the ground,” he mused, rubbing his temples. “And some of them act as guards, shooting sleep darts.”

Sky and Crow nodded.

Alex frowned and shook his head—how could they possibly take on thousands of people and find the two they wanted at the same time? They’d need a whole army of Artiméans. At most, Simber could carry four on his back. Claire’s boat, which was now ready and waiting, could hold at most fifteen normal-size people. . . . Florence would sink Claire’s boat just by stepping into it. But Alex needed her. He needed anybody and everybody who wouldn’t be harmed by sleep darts.

Slowly Alex lifted his head, and the frown washed away. He thought for a second more, tapping his fingers on his knee, and then he turned. “Florence,” he said slowly, as if the idea was still in the process of coming to him, “can you please clear the lawn, and then round up all the statues? Every last one of them, from the library to the lounge and all through the mansion, and send them to the theater?” He pushed his chair back and stood up, rolling the map into a tube. “I’ll meet you there shortly. But first,” he said, a slow grin spreading across his face, “we’re going to need a bigger boat.”

More Plans

As Florence headed outside to clear the lawn, Alex raced up the steps to the somewhat secret hallway, said the magic words “Door number one,” and entered the Museum of Large. He went straight to the pirate ship and studied it, walking all the way around it, with his hand tracing the perimeter, feeling its solidness. It had come ashore one day, Mr. Today had said. There had been just two sailors aboard, both dead. As Alex remembered Mr. Today’s story, he recalled that the old mage had said that the sailors wore strange things around their necks.

“You’ve been to Warbler before, haven’t you,” Alex murmured. “Perhaps you’re one of the ships from Queen Eagala’s fleet.”

The ship whispered and whispered. Alex strained his ears, but he couldn’t understand it, not even a word.

“Are you ready to have at it again?” he asked.

The ship seemed agreeable.

“I’ll be right back.” Alex strode out into the secret hallway and down to the end of it, to the window, and he looked out. The lawn, beach, and sea were cleared. Alex smiled, went back to the museum, and stood next to the pirate ship. He put his hands on the hull, closed his eyes, and pictured the sea in front of the mansion. He held the picture in his mind for a long moment, his hands quavered a bit, and tried not to think about what would happen if something went terribly wrong. And then, after a deep breath, he whispered, “Transport.”

The ship trembled for an instant, and then it disappeared.

Alex opened his eyes, amazed at the huge space that now stood empty before him. He turned and ran back to the end of the hallway. And there, not quite all the way in the water but pretty amazingly close, was the pirate ship.

“Whew,” Alex breathed. He ran back to the museum, locked the door, and then tore back down through the teeming crowds of Artiméans who had come inside the mansion at Florence’s request.

“You can all go back to whatever you were doing,” he called out. “Just stay away from the ship for now, okay?” He dashed out the mansion’s seaside door to make sure the ship was unharmed in its transportation process.

As he reached the ship, he saw something in the sky coming toward him. He shielded his eyes and watched as Simber, Meghan, and Sean drew closer and then landed on the lawn nearby.