Island of Legends

“Invincible!” Simber looked sharply at Alex. “You mean just like Mrrr. Today?” he asked. His voice grew even louder. “Just like me? What’s wrrrong with you, Alex? Think, boy!” He plucked Ahab’s wooden leg from the water, dropped it to the deck with a clatter, and soared high overhead, circling the ship, peering down at the water as the first sliver of the sun came up and the last belches of fire lit up the sky.

The others shuffled their feet, throwing uneasy glances Alex’s way. No one liked to be yelled at by Simber. But Simber yelling at Alex, the head mage? It was mortifying.

There was nothing worse than Simber’s disappointment, except perhaps his silence. Alex stood at the railing near the gaping hole in the deck created by Florence’s backside, his pride and confidence stinging from the public verbal slap from his closest confidant. He wished he could disappear. Simber had never spoken to Mr. Today like that. Not in front of anyone, at least. It made Alex feel like a child.

He didn’t see Lani looking on with sympathy, or Sean and Carina in a heated conversation with Samheed in the corner, or the captain crawling over to retrieve his wooden leg.

What could Alex do? If she couldn’t swim, Florence was most certainly at the bottom of the sea by now. Ms. Octavia couldn’t bring her back to the surface any better than Alex could. He was tempted to jump in heroically in an attempt to rescue Florence, but that was something the younger Alex might have done, and it would only cause more trouble in the end.

The only question Alex couldn’t face was the one that plagued his thoughts now. Sure, Simber had survived weeks stuck at the bottom of the sea, but that was when he was essentially put to sleep—the magic had been pulled out of him. His world didn’t exist. But what happened if a creature or statue was alive when it happened? Did statues breathe? And if so . . . could they drown?

An Unsettling Rift

Many intense minutes passed as the reality of the situation hit them—Florence, whom no one ever thought to worry about, was gone, and she didn’t seem to be coming back. Sunk to the bottom of the sea, possibly drowned by a giant sparking eel.

Finally Ms. Octavia burst through the surface and sucked in a long breath, and another.

“Did you find her?” Alex shouted. “Is she okay?”

Ms. Octavia held up a tentacle until she could speak. “She’s gone,” the octogator said finally.

“Gone?” Lani gasped. “Like . . . dead?”

“No—sorry. I mean she’s not nearby. The eel dragged her away. I caught a glimpse of them heading in that direction at top speed.” Ms. Octavia pointed to the west, beyond the fiery island. “I followed for a bit, but the eel was going much faster than I could ever go, and soon they were out of sight.” She paused to cover her face for a moment.

Alex thought he heard a sob. But then Ms. Octavia dipped her face down into the water again and wiped it off with a big sigh. She reached for a rope and scrabbled up the side of the ship. When Simber swooped down to help, Ms. Octavia waved him away, as if she couldn’t bear the sight of him. Once on board, she began to construct a new leg for the captain like she always did, not realizing Simber had found the old one this time.

Alex looked at Sky, needing desperately to talk about this latest disaster. This was too big for him to handle alone. She held his gaze, and they walked carefully around the hole in the deck to meet at a quiet spot, all awkwardness between them immediately pushed aside.

“Look, Alex, it’s not your fault,” Sky said. “Florence isn’t a child. She’s a grown woman. Um, statue. Whatever. She knew the risks of being on a ship. Plus, she told Simber she could handle it.”

“And besides that,” Alex said, “nobody could have predicted that there was anything powerful enough to wrestle Florence off a ship and into the sea.” He was still stunned that such a sea creature existed, let alone one so unaffected by their magic.

“Exactly.”

“But,” Alex went on, “I still feel responsible. I’m in charge. And like Simber said . . . I should’ve known if she could swim or not. Because maybe Simber would have been able to do something different, or sooner, if he’d known.”

“It’s not like Simber was just sitting around—he was doing some pretty important things too,” Sky reminded him.

But Alex pounded his forehead in frustration. “Another stupid mistake,” he said, thinking about Spike. “What are we going to do without Florence?”

Sky rested a cool hand on the back of his neck. “You’re being too hard on yourself,” she said.

He pulled away. “You don’t know the half of it.”

Sky’s hand jerked back like she’d been stung. “Wow. Sorry.”

Alex sighed. “No, no, I’m sorry. You were being awesome. As usual,” he said, feeling totally miserable. “I’m just mad . . . at myself.” He looked past her, over the water. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me these days.”

Sky pressed her lips together and stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say. She didn’t want to make things worse, so she said nothing at all.

Simber kept his distance, aloof, mourning in his own way.

Samheed approached Alex and Sky, his hair wild and standing every which way from the dousing. “It’s my fault, Al,” he said. “I told you to add Florence to the list at the last minute. I didn’t think—”

“Thanks, Sam—I really appreciate it. But it’s not your job to think,” Alex said, knowing he sounded like a jerk but unable to stop himself. He raised his voice, wanting to be sure Simber picked up on it. “It’s my job to think of everything. Didn’t you hear? Didn’t everyone hear?”