Journey Across the Hidden Islands

by Sarah Beth Durst

  Uncle Balez paled. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.” He wrung his hands and began to pace across the rubble. “I never meant to endanger my brother. I never wanted to endanger anyone. I only wanted to do what our older brother failed to do: stop the earthquakes.”

  Seika felt as if she’d had all the air knocked out of her lungs. She thought of the story of Prince Biy and how he blamed the dragon for the earthquakes . . . but how would putting the dragon to sleep stop the quakes? That was crazy!

  “You stole the egg!” Kirro accused Uncle Balez.

  “He did?” Seika asked. Then, to her uncle: “You did?”

  “Only to keep it safe while the dragon slept,” Uncle Balez said.

  “How could you?”

  He climbed over the rubble toward the fallen tapestry. “No one was supposed to be hurt. Not the egg, not the dragon, not your father.”

  “Yeah, well, now people are going to get hurt,” Kirro said. “Where’s the egg? You have to give it back! There’s an angry dragon on the loose!”

  “She’ll find my father’s ship!” Seika cried. “She blames him for breaking the bargain! You have to tell her it was your fault.” She didn’t understand what could have made Uncle Balez do this, but what mattered now was that the dragon was flying to find the emperor, and Father was sailing right into her path. “Before she reaches Father!”

  “I did it for the good of Himitsu!” Uncle Balez said. Kneeling, he picked up a shred of the tapestry the dragon had torn when she burst out of the tunnel. “The barrier causes the quakes!”

  Hands on her hips, Seika glared at him. He was spouting nonsense. Holding the piece of the ruined tapestry in his hands, he was peering up at the sky, as if he expected the dragon to return.

  “The dragon has gone to punish Father for what you did,” she said. “You betrayed the bargain, not him. You’re a traitor.”

  “You don’t understand—​I’ve been studying the old texts for years. The references are obscure, but I am certain of it: The barrier stresses the land. Pushes at it, deep within the earth. I thought if the dragon slept long enough, then she wouldn’t be able to maintain the barrier or keep her egg from hatching. Eventually, the barrier would fall, the quakes would stop, and no one would be able to deny—​”

  She wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. “The quakes didn’t stop! If anything, they’re worse!”

  “Because the barrier isn’t gone! It was only weakened. If the dragon were to sleep for a little while longer—​”

  “The dragon is awake now and going to kill my father. Do you want that?”

  He deflated. “No. Of course I don’t. He’s my brother! You have a sister—​how could you even think I’d want to hurt my own brother?”

  “Then you need to make this right!” She put every shred of imperial command, all her training, all her self-confidence, all her strength into the words. She was the princess, and he must obey. “Give her back her egg!”

  Uncle Balez shook his head slowly, sadly. “We were so close. Only a few days more—​”

  “He will die.”

  Something in her tone finally got through to him. Straightening his shoulders, he met her eyes. “The egg is hidden beneath the bones in the dragon’s chamber of the shrine.”

  She nodded. “I’ll get it. Can you delay the dragon? Catch up to her on Master Shai?”

  “Yes,” he said. He still looked dazed, but he was nodding. He turned to his guards and ordered, “Help her.” To Seika, he said, “Fly out to join us with your sister and her lion.”

  Following the guards, Seika and Kirro ran over the rubble and out of the fortress.

  Chapter

  Twenty-One

  JI-LIN RAN ACROSS the rooftop. In the moonlight, the tiles were black shadows with ridges she couldn’t see. She trusted her balance to keep her from tumbling forward. This wasn’t the same as running on the rooftops of the Temple of the Sun. Here, she didn’t know the slopes and pitches. But neither did the guards behind her. They scrambled, crawling on hands and knees, to keep up with her.

  The fortress was built on the mountainside, with many stories that jutted out of the stone. She jumped from one to the next, climbing between them until she reached the peak. From there, she looked out across the dark sea. She thought she saw a ship in the distance . . .

  Yes, it was a ship. The shape of the sail was unmistakable. It was in sharp relief against the matte gray-blue-black sky. Father! But he wasn’t here yet. They were still on their own until he could reach the island.

  Ji-Lin heard a rumble. Looking up at the mountain, she saw that loose rocks were tumbling down one of the faces. Dirt plumed into the air. But she couldn’t worry about it now. Below her, the guards were climbing higher. The closest was near enough that she could hear him puffing as he climbed.

  She switched to the other side of the roof and slid down it on her feet, arms stretched out for balance. Leaping, she landed on the next level in a crouch. She heard the guards shout behind her and switch directions. Running again, she landed on the roof near the Great Hall.

  And the tiles in front of her exploded.

  Rocks shot into the air in a shower of debris. Screaming, she covered her head and ducked. She heard the stones hit the roof around her. Everything shook.

  She saw the dragon shoot into the sky. The dragon spread her wings, silhouetted against the moon, and then let loose a cry so shrill that Ji-Lin’s skin prickled.

  A second later, she thought: Where’s Seika?

  Guards forgotten, dragon ignored, Ji-Lin launched herself across the broken roof. Seika had been in there! She reached the vast hole in the roof, flattened onto her stomach, and looked in to see their uncle and his guards—​and there was Seika, with Kirro! She saw her sister and the sailor boy dart out of the fortress, heading toward the path to the shrine with three guards—​voluntarily, it seemed. The guards looked to be leading them . . . Where are they going?

  She had to follow them. But the ground was far, very far. Ji-Lin knew she couldn’t jump that distance, and she couldn’t run back the way she’d come. Alejan! she thought. If the dragon was awake, he must be too. Standing, Ji-Lin put her fingers in her mouth and whistled loudly.

  She saw the shape of the winged lion rising into the air. Waving her arms, she called, “Alejan!”

  But it wasn’t Alejan.

  It was Master Shai.

  Ji-Lin lowered her arms and began to run as the lioness dove toward her—​She’s not slowing! She’s going to crash! Ji-Lin felt the rush of air from the creature’s great wings as the lioness swooped past her, down into the hall, toward Uncle Balez. She hit the ground amid the rubble, executing the high-speed landing perfectly, and Uncle Balez climbed onto her back.

  “Gotcha,” one of the guards said, rising in front of Ji-Lin.

  She dodged, leaping for another level. The guards were everywhere, swarming over the roofs. Drawing her sword, she turned. “I don’t want to fight you.”

  One of them nodded to another, and she knew they were surrounding her. These were her people. She’d had it drilled into her: she was supposed to protect her people, not hurt them. But she might not have a choice.

  A shadow passed over her, darkening the lemon-colored predawn sky, and she looked up: a winged lion, directly overhead. Master Shai or Alejan? Hoping, she jumped into the air and grabbed the lion’s leg. Swinging herself up, she felt a guard’s fingers brush past her foot, just missing her. She held on as they veered out over the rocks.

  “Are you all right?” Alejan! It was him. Straining her arms and kicking her feet, she pulled herself up onto his back.

  “Where are Master Shai and Uncle Balez?”

  “Chasing the dragon,” he said.

  “Alejan . . .” Ji-Lin hesitated. How could she tell him that his hero might not be so heroic? “There were sleeping flowers in the dragon’s meat. We think the Guardians of the Shrine hid the dragon and lied to us. Lied to everyone—​”

 
; He cut her off. “No, they wouldn’t. You must be mistaken. Prince Balez and Master Shai are heroes. The stories all agree—​”

  “Alejan.”

  “Please, Ji-Lin. She’s my hero.”

  Ji-Lin hugged his neck, burying her face in his mane. “I’m sorry, Alejan. But we have to be our own heroes now. We have to find Seika. She’s gone up to the shrine.” She held on, twisting so she could see the dragon flapping in a circle around the island and then heading out to sea, toward the ship. The winged lioness was following her, as Alejan had said.

  Alejan flew up the side of the volcano, following the stone road. She saw the archway ahead. Closer, he flew low and she let go, landing in a crouch.

  “They must have gone inside.” She plunged into the crack in the mountain. Instantly, the smell of sulfur surrounded her, permeating her skin and filling her lungs.

  “They took the torches!” Alejan said. She heard his claws on the rocks, as if he were kneading them in distress.

  “I know. But we have each other.”

  “And I deeply appreciate that,” Alejan said, “but neither of us glows in the dark.”

  The darkness felt full of monsters and dragons. She kept one hand on the wall and one hand on Alejan. “Seika! Are you there, Seika?” The heat was already squeezing in on her. She was sweating, and Alejan’s fur was damp.

  And then the darkness shook.

  Ji-Lin was knocked into Alejan. Grunting, he fell to the side as the tunnel shuddered around them. She heard rocks crashing down, and she knew she was screaming, but she couldn’t hear her own voice over the noise. Clutching Alejan, she rode out the tremor. Bits of rock rained on her, pelting her back.

  It stopped, the ground quivering to stillness, but the sound of tumbling rocks went on and on. At last, the rain slowed to a trickle.

  “Alejan? Are you okay?”

  “Yes. And you, my princess?”

  “Fine. That was . . .” She began to shake—​not the ground, but her body. She clung to Alejan until she stopped trembling. “. . . bad.”

  “Is it going to cave in?” Alejan asked.

  “No. Maybe. I don’t know. Seika? Kirro? Seika!”

  She heard nothing. Seika was deeper into the volcano. What if the quake had . . . No, I’m not going to think like that, Ji-Lin told herself. Seika had to be okay. “We have to find her, and then we have to stop Master Shai and Uncle Balez.” After what they’d done to the dragon—​and accidentally to Alejan—​they couldn’t be allowed to roam free.

  “Ji-Lin, if Master Shai and Prince Balez aren’t heroes . . . then who are?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe there aren’t any. Maybe we’re all just doing the best we can.” She switched to shouting: “Seika! Seika, can you hear me? Are you okay? We’re coming!” Releasing the lion, Ji-Lin crawled forward, feeling her way. Rocks coated the floor. She hit them with her fingers and knees. Wincing and muttering about traitorous lords, she climbed around boulders that had fallen in the way. The tunnel could have caved in with Seika and Kirro inside. The whole volcano could cave in now with all of them inside. She tried to push the fear down hard and focus only on the task at hand. She couldn’t stop an earthquake, but she could find her sister.

  She hit a wall. Feeling her way, she found rubble all around, choking the tunnel, except in one place. The roof must have crumbled here during the tremor. “I can squeeze through.” But Alejan wouldn’t be able to make it.

  “Don’t go, Ji-Lin,” he pleaded.

  She wanted to turn around, badly. It was dark. It smelled. She was tired and scared, and she shouldn’t even be here. “I have to find Seika.”

  “I can’t leave you alone in the darkness. There could be another quake. Aftershocks. Remember in the tent?”

  “I’m not afraid,” she lied.

  “I am,” the lion said.

  She hesitated.

  “Ji-Lin, we are a team. You and me. Lion and rider. Don’t make me leave you alone in the dark in an unstable volcano. It could erupt. It could collapse. You could get lost. You could be hurt.”

  “She’s my sister. I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t try. Not because Father told me to take care of her. Not because it’s my duty. Not because I trained for this. Not because I’m supposed to be her guardian or because I want to be a hero or any of that. But because she shared an orange with me. Because we snuck out of our room together when we were supposed to be napping. Because we dumped goldfish from the fountain into the canals, setting them free, not knowing the waterfolk would eat them. Because she’s known me from the beginning and will know me until the end. Because she drives me crazy sometimes, both when she gives imperial orders and when she’s afraid to. Because she trusts me. Do I really need a reason?”

  Alejan nudged her with his nose, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her hands in the fur of his mane. “I almost lost you once already on this adventure,” Alejan said, his voice muffled. “I don’t want to lose you permanently, even if it means we aren’t heroes, even if it means there are no stories or songs or tales about us.”

  “I’ll be swift, bold, and unexpected,” Ji-Lin promised.

  “Just be careful,” Alejan said. “I’ll fly up to the mouth of the volcano. As soon as you reach the dragon’s chamber, call out and I will fly in from above. Promise me you’ll call for me.”

  She squeezed him once more, then released him. “I will.”

  Softly, he said, “Seika isn’t the only one who cares about you. You must call me if you need me. And not because I want to be a hero. Because . . . Oh, just be careful, Ji-Lin!”

  “Go,” she told him. She slipped through the hole in the rocks. Alone, she continued, hands forward, feeling her way, kicking stones with her feet. Every few steps, she called, “Seika!”

  I hate the dark, she thought. She felt as if she were listening with her skin. She couldn’t remember how far it had been before. It had felt like eternity. She was sure it was shorter than that.

  Ahead, she saw a glow—​the heart of the volcano and . . . torches? “Seika?”

  Softly, as if from a distance, she heard, “Ji-Lin?”

  She hurried toward the glow and the voice. “I’m here! Where are you?”

  “In the heart! Hurry!”

  Ji-Lin heard a scrambling noise, as if hollow sticks were hitting one another. She also heard other voices—​the guards? And Kirro. They were both there and okay! She ran faster through the tunnel, stumbling over the rocks, until she burst into the heart of the volcano, below the opening to the sky.

  Seika, Kirro, and three guards were digging through the bones.

  “What are you doing?” Ji-Lin cried.

  Seika was coated in dust, with a smear on her cheek. She was kneeling in her beautiful princess skirts on the floor of the chamber. Without looking up, Seika said, “The dragon woke and said someone stole her egg. She blames Father—​said the bargain was to protect her egg, and that he broke the bargain by allowing her egg to be stolen. Then Uncle Balez said he was the one who stole it and hid it here, under the bones. He’s gone with Master Shai to delay the dragon until we can find it and bring it to them, to convince the dragon not to kill Father. Or whatever she plans to do.”

  “Given how upset she was, probably destroy the islands,” Kirro said. “Or make the volcano explode . . . which would be the same thing . . . which makes me think we shouldn’t be here. Can we dig faster?”

  Ji-Lin stared at them both. Stealing the egg . . . Deliberately endangering the islands . . . “But . . . He . . . How could . . . That’s treason! Why would he do it?”

  “He said the barrier is causing the earthquakes,” Seika said without stopping. “He wanted to keep the dragon asleep until the barrier fell.”

  Ji-Lin tried to wrap her head around it—​the enormity of what their uncle had done and what he’d tried to do. At last, she said, “Father is not going to be happy.”

  “Especially if the dragon eats him,” Kirro said.

  Both
princesses glared at him.

  “Sorry!” He dug faster.

  One of the guards cried out, “Found it! Your Highnesses!” He pulled something out of the dust. It was emerald-green and larger than any egg Ji-Lin had ever seen—​roughly the size of a human baby. The guard had to hold it with two hands. He passed it to Seika, who staggered under the weight.

  “We have to get it to the dragon,” Seika said as she steadied herself.

  Seika was right. They had to move fast. And hope the dragon wasn’t faster. Putting two fingers in her mouth, Ji-Lin whistled.

  She looked up at the hint of sky, far above, at the top of the shaft. She knew he’d be there, at the mouth of the crater, waiting in case she needed him, not just because he’d promised but because that was what he always did. He was always there for her. She saw his silhouette circle the crater, black against the lightening blue sky, and then he spiraled down, lower and lower into the volcano.

  He landed, and Ji-Lin leaped on. She pulled Seika, with the egg, up behind her, and Kirro climbed on too. “We’re on! Fly!” Ji-Lin ordered Alejan.

  With hard wing strokes, Alejan flew. Beat, beat, beat. He strained. He groaned. And then they felt a cool breeze on their faces as he rose out of the crater. The wind wrapped around them as they flew up out of the volcano with the dragon’s egg.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Two

  SEIKA SAW THE ship. It was Father’s. She recognized the shape of the sails and the curve of the hull as it cut through the waves. But approaching from the other side of the island was another vessel with three white sails: the Zemylan ship. It was coming at a rapid clip, slicing through the dark waves as if it had harnessed a faster wind. It was longer and broader than Father’s ship, built for power, not beauty, and it was headed toward Father’s.

  The dragon flew toward both ships.

  Behind her flew Uncle Balez and Master Shai, faster.

  All of them were going to meet at the same time.

  “Alejan, we have to reach them before the dragon attacks!” Ji-Lin called. “Master Shai can’t fight her alone!”