by Maggie Marks
Luna answered. “Yes,” she said softly. “We’re there. It’s time.”
CHAPTER 15
Horses grazed so peacefully in the field that it was hard to believe a pillager outpost lay just beyond the bend. Mason saw Luna gaze at the horses longingly—for only a moment—before strapping on her trident.
As the ship crept around the bend, Asher and Chase joined them near the deck rail. “Do you think it’s really Uncle Bart in there?” Asher asked, doubt creeping into his green eyes.
Mason nodded. “It’s him,” he said firmly. He couldn’t bear the thought of it not being Uncle Bart.
“We’ll have to check to be sure,” said Mrs. Diaz. She rested a hand on Mason’s shoulder. “Mr. Diaz and I will go into the outpost first, before the rest of you put yourselves in danger.”
Mason stepped away and shook his head. “No,” he said. “I want to go first. I can’t wait. I won’t.”
Mrs. Diaz’s brow wrinkled with worry, but she said nothing.
Then Mason remembered his secret weapon. “I’ll use this!” he cried, pulling the glass bottle from his pocket. “Potion of invisibility.”
“Hey,” said Asher. “Did you steal that from Luna?”
Luna shook her head. “It can’t be mine. I’m all out,” she said.
“The wandering trader gave it to me,” Mason explained. “He knew it would help me.”
When he felt the thud of the ship docking near shore, he uncorked the bottle. He guzzled every last drop of the potion before anyone could stop him. Then he raced down the deck steps toward shore.
As soon as Mason’s feet hit dry ground, he ran. The potion wouldn’t last forever, and Uncle Bart was close now—he could feel it!
But as the pillager outpost came into view, Mason suddenly stopped. The outpost wasn’t empty this time. It was bustling with pillagers, the gray-faced mobs milling about with their crossbows strapped to their backs.
Mason ducked behind a pile of logs, but then he remembered something: he was invisible. Just run! he told himself. Get to the cage!
Mason raced right through the crowded center of the outpost, dodging a group of pillagers. The cage was close now—he could see it beside the tall watchtower. He held his breath, hoping Uncle Bart was still inside.
When a shadow moved behind the bars, Mason’s heart leaped. Yes! He threw himself to the ground just beside the cage and peered through the bars.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. But seconds later, he saw a man looking out.
The man’s beard was so thick, Mason could barely see the face behind it. But he recognized the man’s eyes immediately. They were deeper green than Asher’s or the wandering trader’s, and filled with surprise—and hope.
“Uncle Bart?” Mason cried.
“Mason?” the man asked in a muffled voice.
“Yes, it’s me! I drank a potion of invisibility!” Mason tried to keep his voice down, but he wanted to shout to the skies above. He wanted to bust through the bars and give Uncle Bart a bear hug. But he couldn’t reach him!
“How do I get in?” Mason asked. He drew his trident and gave the bars a solid whack.
“No!” Uncle Bart whispered. “You’ll need a pickaxe. Do you have one?”
Mason shook his head. But he knew who did.
It took every ounce of strength he had to leave Uncle Bart in the cage. “I’ll be right back,” Mason promised. He stared into his uncle’s eyes, feeling as if he were dreaming. And then he turned and ran.
His potion was wearing off now. As he glanced down, he saw his arms pumping, and his feet racing across the earth. He ran faster, hoping the pillagers hadn’t seen him yet.
“Mason!” someone whispered. It was Mr. Diaz, who had ducked behind the wood pile. The others were there, too, their weapons drawn.
“Was it him? Was it Uncle Bart?” Asher cried out.
“Shh!” said Mason, clamping his hand over his brother’s mouth. “Yes, it’s him. It’s him!”
Asher looked so excited, Mason kept his hand there just a second longer. “We need a pickaxe,” he told Asher. “I need to borrow yours.”
“No, take mine.” Chase pressed his gold axe into Mason’s hands.
“We’ll cover you,” said Mrs. Diaz. “Asher and I will, with our crossbows.”
“And the rest of us will create a distraction,” said Mr. Diaz. “We’ll storm the watchtower.”
Chase and Savannah crept toward their father, ready to run with him. But Luna looked torn. She glanced at them and then back at Mason, as if she’d rather go with him toward the cage.
“It’s okay,” Mason told her. “I’ve got this.”
She nodded solemnly. “Good luck,” she finally whispered.
As Mason raced back toward the cage, the golden axe at his side, a pillager stepped in front of him. Instantly, Mason heard arrows whizzing overhead. Asher and Mrs. Diaz had his back.
The pillager dropped with a grunt—and Mason kept running.
He slid in the dirt beside the wooden cage and held out his axe. “I’ve got it,” he told Uncle Bart. “I’ve got the axe.”
“Strike here,” said Uncle Bart. He pointed toward a worn stretch of wood near the lock on the cage.
Mason went to work, striking the wood over and over again. As wood shavings flew in every direction, the plank thinned. And then it broke with a snap.
“Now here!” said Uncle Bart, pointing.
Soon Mason had mined an opening through the bars of the cage. “C’mon!” he called to Uncle Bart.
His uncle pushed himself to his feet. He took a few steps and then fell back down. “I can’t,” he whispered. “I don’t have the strength.”
Mason spun his head around wildly, searching for help. Overhead, in the watchtower, he heard the grunts and groans of an all-out fight. Luna and the others were keeping the pillagers at bay. And Asher and Mrs. Diaz couldn’t help either—they were too far away.
“What do I do?” Mason cried.
Uncle Bart sighed. “Help me walk,” he said. “It’s our only choice.”
Mason crawled through the splintered wood and threw Uncle Bart’s arm around his shoulder. Together, they walked a few steps. But we’ll never make it back to the ship, Mason knew. He’s too heavy!
Again, Mason crawled out of the cage, searching for help. This time, Luna saw him. She stood on the wooden deck of the outpost, her trident drawn. “What is it?” she called. “What’s wrong?”
“He can’t walk!” Mason cried.
Luna set her jaw, thinking. “Sit tight,” she finally said. “I’m coming!” She disappeared back into the outpost.
“She’ll help us,” Mason promised his uncle. But as they waited for what felt like hours, he wondered, What can Luna do? She’s out of most of her potions—and she’s not strong enough to carry Uncle Bart either!
Then he heard the whinny of a horse.
Could it be? Mason stuck his head out of the cage, and there was Luna, sitting in her saddle on a chestnut mare. She flashed a proud smile, but only for a moment. Then she was all business again. “Help him onto the horse!” she called. “Quick!”
Mason helped his uncle step out of the cage and stand beside the horse. While Luna pulled and Mason pushed, Uncle Bart climbed onto the horse with a groan.
“Cover us!” Luna cried. Then she was off, galloping away from the cage toward safety.
Mason ran behind her, his trident drawn. I won’t let anything hurt Uncle Bart, he decided, his heart racing. I won’t!
CHAPTER 16
“Thank you.” Uncle Bart whispered the words, as if they took great effort. As if he’d used every last ounce of strength to hang onto Luna as her horse galloped toward the ocean shore.
“You’re welcome,” said Mason, his cheeks hot with emotion. He and Asher sat beside their uncle on the deck of the ship. Every few moments, Mason glanced at him, just to be sure he was real.
“But how did you find me?” Uncle Bart asked.
Uncle Bart shook his head slowly. “I didn’t think I’d ever be free. I didn’t think I’d ever see you boys again—or that you’d even survived the shipwreck.” He squeezed his eyes shut, blinking back tears.
He thought we were dead! Mason suddenly realized. And we thought he was too.
“We’re together now,” said Asher. “And we’re going to have all kind of adventures. We’ll search for buried treasure, and fight off more pillagers, and …”
Uncle Bart chuckled, his hearty laugh ringing off the water below. “I’d settle for a little less adventure,” he said. “How about we start by sailing home?”
Home. Mason glanced over the rail at Luna, who was grooming her horse. She brushed the mare so tenderly that Mason knew—she wouldn’t give this horse up. She’s not going home to our underwater village. Not without her horse.
“But where is home?” Asher asked. “Our ship is gone!”
Uncle Bart stroked his beard. “So it is,” he said sadly.
As Mrs. Diaz set a plate of dried fish on the table, she smiled warmly. “Stay with us for a while,” she said. “There’s plenty of room in our house back in the village.”
Chase and Asher exchanged an excited glance, but Mason waited to see what Uncle Bart would say. He’s a sailor, Mason knew. He’s more comfortable on the water than on dry land.
He was surprised when Uncle Bart slowly nodded. “That’s very kind of you,” he said. “What do you think, Mason?”
Mason sat up taller. “I think … I think home is where you are, Uncle Bart.”
His uncle’s green eyes twinkled. “Then I think it’s time to set sail for home,” he said. “With the Diazes. At least for now.”
Mason felt a rush of happiness, until he thought of leaving Luna behind. He searched the shoreline for her just as she climbed the steps onto deck.
“Are you coming with us?” Asher called to her, before Mason could ask.
“Where?” asked Luna.
“Back to the Diazes’ house!” said Asher, as if the question were obvious.
Luna headed to the rail and checked on her horse, who was contentedly munching grass on shore. “I’m coming,” she said. “But I might be traveling a different way.” She gave Asher a sly smile and then pushed past him, reaching into the basket for a slice of bread.
“Yes!” Asher pumped his fist in the air. “We’re all going to be together.”
Mason stayed quiet, afraid to speak and ruin the moment. We’re all going to be together, he thought, echoing Asher’s words. It had been such a long road to get here.
We never would have found Uncle Bart at all, if not for the wandering trader, he suddenly realized. Or even the ghostly guardian. If not for the elder guardian’s attack, Mason might never have believed that Uncle Bart was still alive.
But as he heard his uncle’s hearty laugh again, Mason grinned. Uncle Bart was very much alive. And they were going home.