And then he remembered the walls, and he nearly laughed at himself, though he would never actually do that. He breathed easier, but still—what if they could break down the walls? Or worse—what if they landed on Artimé and Alex let them in?
Aaron felt the blood drain from his face. His brother wasn’t strong like Aaron was. But the last time Aaron saw Alex, Alex had changed. He would never forgive Aaron for killing the old mage. And maybe he would even seek revenge.
It was something Aaron would have laughed off in the past. But now there was more than just a niggling of fear in his heart. Maybe he was paranoid, maybe not. All he knew was that Alex had more strength and intelligence in him than Aaron had ever expected.
He stood on his tiptoes, straining to see the ship as it disappeared around the curve of the island. He looked back at the block opening he’d made, grateful the secret vessel of the night hadn’t seen it. It was the weakest part of the island, he realized. He would have to have the blocks put back up immediately.
But now he had to decide—should he alert the Quillitary even though they weren’t wholly in the Restorers’ camp? Should he alert the Restorers even though his numbers were dwindling and their loyalty and competence were questionable? Either one would make him look weak if nothing happened. And he wasn’t quite sure just who would be best to share the news of other lands with. Realizing his current state of instability made him nauseous.
Clutching his stomach, he walked back to the palace pondering everything. Meanwhile, in his office, Matilda the gargoyle had climbed out of her box in the closet and crawled up the wall to the window. She straightened the pink ribbon that wrapped around one of her horns. When she saw the lighted ship pass by the opening Aaron had made, she lifted a hand to wave. And then she smiled, knowing immediately that Charlie had seen her and had waved too.
Land Ho!
Captain Ahab, who was considerably more calm when the volcanic island was out of sight behind him than he was when its belching flames were in plain view, shouted out their arrival to the shore of Artimé. The moon had left them and it was as dark as dark could be. Soon
the captain called for the sails to be lowered. He dropped the anchor. Meghan found Alex slumped over the railing. “Oh dear,” she said, rushing over to him. “Are you okay?”
“Just a little pain,” Alex whispered.
Meghan bent down, slipped his arm over her shoulder, and supported him. “Come on,” she said. “Are you done throwing up?”
“I think so,” he said. “Don’t shake me.”
“I’ll try not to,” Meghan said. She helped him walk a step at a time, pausing in between, as others, oblivious, sleepy, and eager to get to their comfortable beds, flooded to the gangway.
Simber circled around and dropped the rope into the ship, then hovered near Alex. “Let me take you,” Simber said.
“I’m okay,” Alex replied, tilting his head up. “You should take them in first.” He lifted a heavy arm and pointed to Samheed and Lani, who sat together in a corner.
Meghan lifted a brow and glanced at Alex. He dropped his gaze. Simber sighed and circled around again, unable to simply fly in reverse.
“I’m herrre to escorrrt you,” Simber said to Lani. “I’m surrre yourrr fatherrr will be rrrelieved to see you.” He dropped his back paws on the deck but kept his wings flapping to keep from capsizing the ship, and then he arched his back and opened his enormous mouth.
Samheed lifted Lani into Simber’s jaws and climbed up on the great cat’s back. Simber lifted off and Meghan looked around, anxious to get off the ship. She spied Henry and Crow heading down the stairs and Sky hanging back.
Meghan smiled. “Hey,” she said.
Sky gave a nervous wave. “Hi, um, I just was making sure he was okay. Do you need any help?”
Alex lifted his head at the sound of Sky’s voice. He tried to smile. “I might need an extra hand up the stairs in the mansion in a bit.”
Meghan rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly, Alex. You’re going to the sick ward.”
“No way,” he said.
“Well, if you’re stubborn, you can take the tube directly.”
“That’s so . . . clinical.”
Meghan laughed, and Alex forced himself not to. “Ow,” he breathed.
Sky hesitated and tapped her shoe against the staircase, her face flushing. “Okay, well, Simber’s back for me, so I’ll be in my room if anybody needs me later,” she said, and then she disappeared down the stairs to the gangway, where Simber waited to shuttle her ashore.
Meghan turned her head to look at Alex, who was gazing at the spot where Sky had been. He closed his eyes and breathed in as evenly as he could.
A moment later Simber was back from bringing Sky ashore.
“Is everybody else off the ship?” Alex asked. He didn’t bother opening his eyes.
“Florrrence is counting. You’rrre the last two, plus the captain, who is waiting for you to go firrrst.”
“Nice guy,” Alex whispered. He swiveled with Meghan’s help and eased back into Simber’s mouth, while Meghan climbed onto Simber’s back, and then they were off to the mansion.
Inside their beloved home, the fox and the kitten hopped into the tube, heading for who knows where, as Alex, Meghan, and Simber walked in. It was quiet inside; the only movement came from the last straggling passengers, who headed straight to their rooms. Florence came in with the captain, who clomped past the others to the tubes, muttering, “Blast my skull!” as he disappeared, no doubt heading for the theater.