Island of Fire (The Unwanteds) (29 page)

Florence looked around the ship. “Has anyone seen the kitten?” she bellowed. Immediately all the statues and creatures who weren’t busy with other things began to search, for their brave kitten was a hero, having helped save Henry.

“Kitten!” they began calling. “Here, Kitten!”

Henry looked up from leaning over Alex. “What’s going on?” he asked Ms. Octavia, having been fully concentrating on Alex. “Kitten’s not missing.” Something wriggled in his pocket. “She’s right here,” he called. “She was taking a nap in my pocket. She’s fine!” He fished the kitten out as the fox bounded over. Kitten stretched adorably in Henry’s hand and squeaked, “Mewmewmew!”

“She says that she is very sorry to have worried everyone by accidentally falling asleep in Henry’s pocket instead of on my back, which is where she prefers to be, and that she’s just fine, and she loves you all—”

“Shut up,” Simber growled.

The fox froze, looking at Simber in surprise. Then he snapped his jaw shut again and lay down, resting his chin on his front paws. His eyes pooled. The kitten climbed on his back and nestled in.

Simber frowned, muttering something only Florence could hear, and despite the seriousness of their situation, Florence had trouble keeping a straight face. But then she caught herself and looked over to the covered deck, which
had become the triage area. Lit torches marked the boundary.

Henry, Meghan, Sky, and Crow hovered over the injured. Sean and Carina lay completely still, eyes closed, but Sky assured the others that they would be fine—they were just getting a nice rest. But Alex was still and gray. And Lani lay on her side, eyes glazed with pain, squeezing Samheed’s hand as Meg and Henry cut her pant leg open and treated the wound.

Ms. Octavia lifted Alex’s head and poured a small vial of liquid between his lips. He choked and coughed. Henry turned sharply, then reached over to touch Alex’s forehead and utter a spell.

“Was it bad that he coughed?” Sky whispered. She could hardly stand watching, but she couldn’t leave Alex’s side.

“No, it was good,” Henry said. “I read it in a book.” He turned to Lani and smiled. “And now I get to try magic stitches for the first time on my sister,” he said in a mildly wicked voice. Samheed lifted his head and shot the boy a quick grin.

“Great, can’t wait,” Lani whispered. She tried to smile too, but she was very weak from losing so much blood. “How’s Alex?” she rasped.

“Well,” Henry said, almost chipper as he basked in being in
his element, “if you think about the worst headache you’ve ever had, multiply times a hundred or so, that’s probably what Alex is going to have when he wakes up. Plus his back probably hurts pretty bad.”

Sky swallowed hard. “When . . . ” She cleared her throat. “Uh, I mean, when do you think he’ll wake up?” Her fingers worked over each other, unable to keep still.

“I’m not really sure about that,” Henry said. “Could be anytime. Could be a while.” He took out his magnifying glass and examined Lani’s gaping wound. “Wow,” he said, impressed.

Sky looked down, squelching her disappointment. When she turned, she caught Samheed watching her.

He looked away, only a little embarrassed to be caught. It was weird for him, seeing Sky and her little brother acting so alive and normal, and Meghan treating Sky like she was one of their close friends. It almost felt like . . . like Alex and Meghan and everybody else had been too busy making friends with the new kids to be bothered to come rescue him and Lani.

He lifted his head and sucked in a sharp breath, disgusted with himself for thinking such a thing. They’d risked their lives for them. “Don’t be stupid,” he muttered.

Sky slid across the wooden plank deck to the starboard side of the ship, knowing she was probably just in the way. She took a long drink from a tiny magical fountain Ms. Octavia had sculpted while she’d anxiously waited for everyone to return to the ship. The water was cold and pure and delicious—the best water she’d ever tasted. But all she could focus on was Alex, and in between thoughts of Alex her mind went back to her mother stuck inside that strange underwater glass case. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. As happy as she was that they’d rescued Sam and Lani, somehow she felt like everything had gotten worse instead of better.

Once everyone had settled in and had something to eat and drink, Florence carefully stood up midship and beckoned to Simber. He moved directly above her to keep his wings from knocking her head clean off, and they held a private meeting far above the others.

“We’re going to need to tell them soon,” Florence said in a soft voice.

Simber stared stonily ahead.

“We have to tell them before we get to Artimé, Simber. Or
they’ll wonder where
he
is, and why he isn’t there to greet them. And then we’ll have chaos. This is at least a semicontrolled environment.”

Simber still said nothing.

“I don’t want somebody saying something accidentally, either, and the longer we wait, the more likely that is to happen,” Florence said.

Silence.

Florence sighed. She tried once more. “I know you’re worried about Alex, but think how they’ll feel if we wait. They’ll feel betrayed. That’s not what Artimé’s about.”

Simber growled low and long. Finally he said, “Alex is the only one who saw it all. They need to know what
he
went thrrrough. Forrr
us.
”

Florence bowed her head for a moment, thinking. “Maybe it’s best someone else tells it, then. He’ll be far too modest.” She glanced around when she heard a flurry of activity in the sick bay. Sean and Carina were both awake now and sitting up, and Meghan was describing what had happened to them as they lamented their uselessness in this mission.

“Plus, Lani needs to know about her mother,” Florence
whispered. “And we can’t wait for Gunnar to break the news—they’ll certainly hear something from everyone who will be glad to see them when we arrive home again.” She ducked as they passed through a cloud of evening bugs, and spit a few out of her mouth before continuing. “I spoke with Henry about it, and he doesn’t want to tell her. You should have seen the poor boy’s face when I asked him. He’s in agony.”

Simber’s muzzle twitched. “We should wait until she’s in less pain,” he said. “And fewerrr nosy onlookerrrs.”

Florence sighed. “I honestly don’t see that scenario existing right now. It’s going to be messy no matter how it happens.”

Simber’s determined face didn’t falter. “We wait forrr ourrr leaderrr.”

T
here was no wind, and the pirate ship was moving so slowly it almost seemed to be floating backward at times. It made for a smooth ride, though, and the moon reflecting on the sea was a perfect picture. The water looked like glass.

Simber kept his eyes forward toward home, while Florence watched the sea behind them to make sure the people of Warbler weren’t coming after them. But all was calm.

“All theirrr ships, but no idea what to do with them,” Simber growled. “Is everrrywherrre so dysfunctional?”

It was a rhetorical question.

» » « «

Lani slept. Samheed watched over Alex, growing more anxious the longer his friend’s eyes stayed closed. He teased him, daring him to wake up. “Come on, man,” he said, his voice strained. “You think you hit that tree hard? Try galloping full speed into a glass wall.” Samheed’s nervous smile fell away when Alex didn’t respond. He swallowed hard and tried again. “You got me good, you know. I owe you one. Hey, remember, uh, remember that time in the lounge where . . . ?” He choked on the words and couldn’t finish. Instead he closed his eyes and pressed his fists into his temples, trying to force the watery grit from his eyes.

Samheed shook his head slowly, thinking what a mess he’d turned into over the past weeks. And while the Artiméans moved about the ship busy with chores, or captured a bit of sleep, Samheed couldn’t stop the questions that were driving him crazy. He glanced at Lani sleeping, and drew a finger across her forehead to catch a strand of hair that had fallen over her face. And then he got to his feet and wandered about the ship, trying to work out his inner jumble of emotions. He had so many questions, and no one was talking about important things. Was he just supposed to wait until they felt like explaining themselves? He didn’t
think he should have to ask what took them so long, but nobody seemed to feel the need to apologize for the lengthy delay.

Maybe they just didn’t understand how horrible it was on Warbler,
Samheed thought. But then he looked at Sky.
No. She knew. Her brother knew. Even Meghan had a clue.
It hurt. And it made him angry.

Samheed ducked his head as he walked past the muttering captain. He’d met the statue before by accident once, thinking he was going into a dressing room. Boy, was that a mistake. He took a punch to the mouth from the crazy peg-legged statue before he knew what hit him, and ended up with a fat lip. At least the weirdo was useful for something.

He found himself at the bow, straining his eyes in the dark, looking for Artimé. There was a faint glow in the distance, and he thought that must be it. He couldn’t wait to get home. He reached around his neck, forgetting that the thorns were gone, and he felt the indented scars all the way around. And then he remembered the squirrelicorn. He looked around for Rufus, finding him balancing on the railing nearby with a group of others. Samheed wandered over.

“I’m sorry about the soldier you lost because of me,” Samheed
said solemnly. “I don’t know how it happened, but I know Alex was really upset about it.”

Rufus and the other squirrelicorns bowed their horned heads at Samheed. “Thank you,” one of them, not Rufus, spoke up. “That was Gremily. She was a terrific soldier and we miss her. But it was not the mage’s fault. He would never do anything to hurt us.”

Samheed tapped his hand lightly on the railing and nodded, feeling awkward now, unsure what else to say. And thinking it was strange that Rufus called Alex a mage. Even though they all were mages, the Unwanteds tended to reserve that term for Mr. Today as a sign of respect. But maybe creatures thought about the word differently. The squirrelicorns turned back to their conversation, giving Samheed the excuse he needed to walk back to the bow and stare toward home.

After a while, Meghan joined him. She slipped her arm around his waist in a side hug and brought his arm up to hug her shoulders. They didn’t need words to transmit what they were feeling. After a while Samheed turned to look at her face. He smiled, and she smiled back, and then he looked more closely at her. “They didn’t get your eyes,” he said.

“No. Thanks to Lani.”

“She never mentioned it.”

“Of course not.” Meghan gazed over the water, a wry grin on her face. “Wait—how could she have mentioned it?”

“We—” He began to tell her about their secret tapping language in the cave, but then he stopped. “They were teaching us the sign language,” he said, not looking at her.

“Ah,” Meghan said. “Well, the way it happened was that you were on the table. They’d just put my thorns in, and Lani managed to cause a commotion and scatterclip somebody to the wall so I could run for it.”

Samheed swallowed hard. “She’s pretty amazing,” he said, trying not to betray his feelings. He had to put them away now, he knew.

“I’ve always thought so,” Meghan said. “But you didn’t.” She leaned into him. “Sounds like you gave her a chance.”

Samheed started to protest. “I’ve always thought—”

“No, you haven’t.” Meghan’s soft laugh rang out over the water.

“Yeah, okay. You’re right.” Samheed squeezed his fist in his pocket. “But I respect her now. She’s the only thing that . . . kept me . . . ” He trailed off, reprimanding himself.

Meghan raised an eyebrow at his heartfelt admission. It wasn’t like him to speak so openly. He seemed so different now. But people change when circumstances change, she knew that well enough from the aftereffects of the Purge. She didn’t say anything.

They stood for a long moment.

“So then you escaped,” Samheed said, going back to their conversation.

It took Meghan a second. “Yes. There was a huge group of Warblerans coming, but I ducked out just in time and managed to find my way out the south hole by the lagoon. There weren’t many others roaming the tunnels.”

“Probably all working,” Samheed mused.

Meghan shrugged. “I made a mad dash for the beach, and zigzagged so no darts hit me—I don’t think they expected anyone to approach from that direction. It was pretty miraculous, actually, that I got out of there.”

“I’ll say.”

“So I swam back to the white boat, but I was bleeding a lot, and so exhausted. Nobody came after me.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand why.”

“They’re not allowed to go into the water,” Samheed said. “That’s why they didn’t follow us to the ship earlier. The queen doesn’t want anyone to learn how to swim. She wants them to fear the water so they don’t dare to escape.” He paused. “That’s what I heard, anyway.”

A heavy sigh escaped Meghan’s lips. “Wow.”

“So, ah, then what?” Samheed glanced at her, growing fidgety as his troubled soul began to bubble. “You . . . what? You drove the boat to Artimé and they threw you a monthlong party or something?” He cringed and shook his head, cursing himself under his breath. “Aw, cripes. I’m sorry. That was totally—”