The Inventors and the Lost Island

by A. M. Morgen

  Oscar’s pencil pressed harder into the paper. “I don’t know if that’s possible. You don’t understand, George.”

  “I guess I don’t understand,” George replied earnestly. “My entire family is dead. I didn’t know how lucky I was to have them when they were alive, but I’d give anything to have a family again.”

  Even though it wasn’t George’s intention to sound pathetic, Oscar’s eyes opened wide with pity as he quickly began to comfort George by patting his arm. “You do have a family. Me, Ada, Frobisher, and Ruthie! You’ll always have us, remember?”

  “And you have us, Oscar. If you don’t want to go be a pirate, then we’ll be here for you.”

  “Yes…” Oscar nodded once in agreement, but for the first time since George had met him amid the gigantic fronds and chirping parrots of the royal menagerie, there was not even a hint of a gap-toothed smile on his face. He put his head down and concentrated on finishing the portrait of the children in No. 10 until Ada surfaced the whale.

  “We’re here!”

  George sprang to the porthole to see a palm-studded coastline. The white peaks of the Sierra Nevada mountains hovered in the distance.

  They’d arrived in Andalusia. Somewhere in the city of Granada, far inland, Il Naso had the treasure map.

  George cleared his throat. “This looks like a good place to come ashore. The city is in those mountains about fifty miles north. We have a long hike ahead of us.”

  Ada swiveled around in her chair, a huge grin plastered on her face. “Lucky for us, this isn’t just a ship, it’s also a carriage. I bet Don Nadie doesn’t have one of these. The trip to Granada won’t take more than two hours.” She cranked a handle at the base of the steering wheel. Below the floor, gears began to whir, creating the noise of a thousand pepper grinders in unison.

  The ship rolled out of the water onto the beach on four wagon wheels that had previously been hidden beneath its broad metal underbelly. Riding over the dry, rocky soil studded with small patches of brown grass was bumpy, and Ada seemed to be playing tug-of-war with the steering mechanism, but soon they were rumbling over the mountainous path toward the city. It was like traveling inside a snail shell. Amazingly, Oscar and Ruthie fell asleep in their hammocks, rocked back and forth by the lurching of the whale.

  The minutes crawled by as the mechanical whale climbed the terrain. George’s stomach rocketed into his throat as they careened down into the valleys. The road became more crowded and twisty the closer they came to the city. Ada turned the whale off onto a dusty lane surrounded by barley fields.

  “Why are we stopping?” George asked. His leg jiggled with nerves.

  “We’re at the edge of the city. We should go the rest of the way on foot. Let’s find somewhere to hide the whale,” Ada said.

  They pulled up to a barn. Oscar woke from his nap, his mood greatly improved. He climbed outside to negotiate with a farmer, using the bits of Spanish he had learned during his brief time as a pirate.

  “¡Vámonos!” Oscar said when the whale was safely stowed out of sight.

  Granada stood on a flat plain inside a bowl of mountains. The city itself was spread out like a picnic blanket at the base of a green hill, and every one of its buildings seemed to have the same white walls and tiled roof. Atop the hill, rising above the treetops, was a magnificent building very unlike the ones below it: a fortress with flat, smooth walls made of reddish stone and perfectly square towers with perfectly square windows.

  George had never seen anything like it. The angular geometry reminded him of the elaborate castles he and his grandfather used to build with toy blocks.

  Ada inhaled sharply, pointing up at the fortress. “The Alhambra.”

  “That’s the Alhambra? The last Moorish palace in Spain?” George asked. The sun broke through the clouds, and a thin beam of sunshine struck the roof of the glorious building. “I didn’t think it was real. I heard it was supposed to have walls of gold and that treasure was buried beneath it by the Moors before they fled.”

  Oscar shaded his eyes with one hand. “What a lovely shade of gray!”

  “The fortress isn’t gray.…” But George soon saw that Oscar wasn’t referring to the magnificent reddish Alhambra. Drifting far across the valley, a gray balloon hovered like a strange cloud. As they watched, another dirty-gray balloon passed over their heads, slowly gliding toward the fortress at the top of the hill. Then they spotted another emerging from behind a far-off peak. George felt a swirl of fear in his chest. He would recognize those balloons anywhere.

  “It’s the Society! They’re the same spy balloons we saw during our first flight over London months ago!” His heart sank. “That must mean that they’ve already found Il Naso.”

  Ada narrowed her eyes. “Or they haven’t found him yet, but they know he’s here in Granada somewhere. I count… seven balloons in plain sight. That’s not taking into account any that might be hidden from view. I bet that if we found the right materials, I could make a balloon with a mechanical frame that squeezes like a jellyfish. It would fly circles around those boring old bubbles!”

  George recognized the glint in Ada’s eyes. It was only a matter of seconds before she’d run off to construct a jellyfish balloon. “Ada, concentrate! We can’t take down the entire Society by ourselves in a jellyfish balloon.”

  Ada tore her eyes away from the balloons. “Of course. Il Naso. But if we had more time, I could construct a vacuum apparatus that would suck the balloons out of the sky, or I could fix the water cannon, but where would we find the water?”

  George groaned. “Where will we find Il Naso?”

  Suddenly Oscar cried, “Sharks!”

  “Sharks?” George repeated.

  Ruthie hopped onto Oscar’s shoulders, chattering softly. “On my father’s ship, we used to track sharks in order to find the best fishing spots. Wherever the sharks were, we were almost guaranteed to find prey. If we follow those balloons…”

  George felt a rush of gratitude for Oscar and Ruthie. “We’ll find Il Naso.”

  “Oh, fine, be practical,” Ada scoffed. She took a pair of binoculars out of her pocket and brought them to her eyes. “They all seem to be converging on the Alhambra. There’s one that’s almost there. It looks like it’s dropping something onto the ground below.”

  George’s insides somersaulted. “So we follow the balloons and, hopefully, find Il Naso before the Society can. But… the Society knows who we are. How are we going to keep them from attacking us?”

  “Disguises!” Ada said gleefully. “It looks as if they’re doing construction on the palace—we’ll grab something along the way so that we can blend in as workers. It only has to work long enough for us to get inside the Alhambra without being noticed. We’ll find Il Naso, you’ll convince him to give you the map, and we’ll be on our way.”

  Oscar clapped his hands delightedly. “We can leave through the secret tunnels! Fortresses always have secret tunnels.”

  They hurried through the maze of streets toward the Alhambra. There was chaos everywhere. People were gathering in the middle of the roads to gawk at the balloons or rushing to get inside their homes. It was hot and the air was full of strange smells. As they reached the road that led up the hill to the Alhambra, the crowds only increased. Groups of people were streaming down the wide path toward the city, fleeing the fortress. George was surprised to see so many people, but he saw that Ada was right—most of the people fleeing were workmen in dust-covered aprons, along with some children in rags and well-dressed women and men in braided jackets, which George thought looked very smart. Ruthie plucked a few hats from atop the distracted workers’ heads while Oscar picked up four smocks that they had dropped in their rush. Most of them were coughing and holding cloths to their faces.

  “What’s happening?” George asked. Oscar repeated in Spanish, “¿Que pasó?” but they received no reply from the stream of people.

  As George, Ada, Oscar, and Ruthie came closer to the fortress through a dense
thicket of trees, they heard a loud bang followed by a muffled explosion. The ground shook slightly beneath their feet. They were almost at the top of the hill, and above the walls of the fortress they could see that one of the Society’s balloons was being anchored with thick ropes. A bald man leaned over the side of the balloon’s large basket, which looked as if it could hold at least ten people. He was holding something that resembled a cannonball over his head threateningly.

  “Surrender now or I’ll drop it!” the man shouted in English, followed by a halting string of Italian: “Arrenditi adesso o lascerò questa cosa cadere sulla tua testa!”

  With a start, George recognized the bald man from their last battle with the Society. His name was Shaw, and he was one of the Nobodies who had chased them across the Adriatic Sea a few months ago.

  “They’re going to bomb the fortress. We have to hurry,” Ada said. She began running, clutching the construction hat to her head. George followed, heart pounding.

  When they reached the top of the hill, they ran through the keyhole-shaped entrance in the fortress walls. Inside, they found themselves directly underneath the balloon’s carriage-sized basket in a courtyard that was overgrown with elegant toffee-colored trees and lush green plants that spilled out of stone planters. All four of them slowed to a halt, necks craned to marvel at the high stone walls, which were lined with archways carved with intricate leaves, flowers, and curlicues. It was wildly beautiful. Since they were invisible to the Society fifty feet above them, George allowed himself to be transported, just for a moment, his troubles blown away on the gentle breeze.

  Then the smell hit him.

  Ruthie wrinkled her brown nose and gagged. She buried her face in Oscar’s neck. “Cover your noses,” Oscar said.

  “What is that?” Ada choked out between coughs.

  “Rotten eggs,” George said. “And fish carcasses. And something else I don’t even want to guess. Now we know why those people were running away as fast as they could.”

  Oscar gasped. “Look out!” he shouted as he covered his head and rushed toward a tree to shield himself.

  Ada and George dove for cover behind a stone planter just as Shaw hurled the small black sphere from high overhead. It hit the ground a few feet away and exploded into a puff of smoke that carried a new, disgusting odor—rotting vegetables.

  “Stink bombs!” Ada practically shrieked, pinching her nose between her fingers. “Brilliant! Perfectly harmless to us, I’m sure. The Society wouldn’t risk damaging the map with real bombs or weapons.”

  “They’re not harmless to Il Naso, though,” George replied. The Italian policeman was called Il Naso, the Nose, because he had the most finely tuned sense of smell of anyone on earth. He could even smell feelings. “He’ll be in utter agony. We have to find him before the rest of the balloons get here and he surrenders the map to save his nose.”

  Ada turned in a circle. “Okay—we need to get away from this balloon and find higher ground. I’m sure Il Naso will have gone upwind and gotten as high as possible to avoid the stench.”

  George peered up once more at the high walls surrounding them. A few towers peeked over the trees, but some had large cracks running through them or had crumbled, their tops lying in ruins. On the far side of a wall, one large square tower rose above the rest. It seemed to be fully intact. He pointed to it and shouted, “There!”

  They all pinched their noses and ran as fast as they could toward the tower. Beyond the wall was another long courtyard surrounded on all sides by the smooth white faces of buildings. Stacks of tiles and buckets of mortar lay abandoned around a drained pool at the center of the courtyard. The workmen must have been in the midst of their repairs when the stink bombs started falling—they had left their tools scattered on the ground in their desperation to get away. At the far end of the pool, a carved wooden door appeared to lead inside one of the tall towers.

  George, Ada, and Oscar ran across the courtyard at full speed and crashed into the door, but it was locked. As Ada worked on the lock, Shaw caught sight of them and hurled a stink bomb in their direction. There was a loud bang as it crashed and exploded, sending the stench of sweaty feet into the air.

  Oscar gagged. “I’m going to be sick.”

  “Hurry!” George said into his elbow, which he’d used to cover his nose.

  “I am!” Ada said.

  Ruthie launched herself off Oscar’s shoulders, then climbed up the arches and disappeared through a window. The door opened suddenly to reveal a grinning Ruthie on the other side.

  “Ruthie, you brilliant ape,” George cheered as they all scrambled inside in a tangle of arms and legs and vines. Ada shut the door and quickly locked it behind them.

  Inside, the tower was cool and dark. The air was slightly clearer, though faint hints of skunk had permeated the walls. George breathed, taking in his surroundings.

  From floor to ceiling, the walls were covered in patterns and interlocking shapes. They were every bit as intricate as the designs they’d seen earlier—except these had been carved right through the stone in some places. Sunlight filtered in, cutting the outside world into geometric swirls and shapes. Oscar ran his hands along the faded paint, barely visible anymore between the lacelike carvings.

  “Cinnabar, azurite, and gold. If only I could see them as they once were,” he murmured to himself.

  Ada gestured to an oval carving filled with symbols and dots. “Those are Arabic inscriptions. Isn’t it beautiful? I wish I could read it.”

  The floors suddenly creaked above them, followed by a loud sniff. A fine mist of dust drifted onto the carvings.

  They were not alone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The loud sniff echoed a few times, then faded into silence.

  “Il Naso! It must be!”

  Ada turned to George. “I have a plan to take down the balloons, but first we have to find Il Naso and get the map. He knows us. Let’s start calling to him until he answers.”

  George glanced up at the carved wooden ceiling. “How are we going to get up there? I don’t see any stairs.”

  “The stairs are over there,” Oscar said, pointing at a door behind an arched alcove. “But I’m sure there are secret passages here, too.”

  “The regular stairs will do. No time to look for secret ones. Come on!” Ada ran ahead.

  They made their way to the upper floor, which was an enormous square room in a state of disrepair, although it was obvious that the interior had once been beautiful. Water stains dripped over the stone carvings. George felt a sudden pang of sadness. It reminded him of his own home before he’d restored it to its original splendor, although his house had been nowhere near as sumptuous as the Alhambra. A palace as beautiful as this one deserved to be restored.

  “Il Naso,” George called out cautiously. “It’s your old friend George. The 3rd Lord of Devonshire? We’ve come to help you.”

  Oscar gestured to a square window an arm’s length above them. “See those windows up there? From the outside they were right beneath the roof. We can’t go any higher. He’s not here.”

  “But he has to be here! We heard him,” George insisted.

  “Maybe so, but I have an idea for getting rid of Shaw first. A simple idea,” Ada added before George could protest. “Which way is the courtyard we came from?” Ada ripped the hat from her head and began taking objects out of her pockets and arranging them on the floor.

  “Out there. George, help me take this off.” Oscar knelt down beside a window covered in more geometric patterns.

  Together, George and Oscar removed the heavy wooden screen. Circular bubbles of light within rectangular borders flashed across his eyes and cast strange shadows on their bodies that mesmerized him. He felt an unexpected idea loosening in his brain at the same time the screen popped out of its frame. They gently placed it at their feet.

  Below them lay the drained pool. From this height, George could see over the walls of the Alhambra’s courtyard like a mouse that ha
s been lifted out of its maze. The fortress was a city unto itself, with gardens and trees and buildings all woven together at the top of the hill. Searching every corner of this place for Il Naso would take weeks. To George’s left, Shaw’s balloon floated high above everything. If they tried to leave the building the way they had come, Shaw would see them for sure.

  While his brain was still spinning like a wild compass needle, George spotted something blinking at him from a small window in the wall on the other side of the pool. Il Naso. He must have taken a different path inside the labyrinthine fortress. Their eyes locked for a brief moment. A gray balloon slowly rose up behind Il Naso’s wall like an evil moon. The policeman’s black mustache twitched once, twice—and then he disappeared from view.

  George pointed to the window to show Oscar and Ada. “Look! He’s inside there, but if I call out, Shaw will know where he is, too. There’s another balloon coming fast. I think Il Naso saw me, though.”

  “Well done, George! Now it’s time to get rid of those balloons.” Ada finished emptying her many pockets, including a few hidden ones. On the floor in front of her she’d placed a glass vial, a pencil, a hairbrush, three hard-boiled eggs, and ten cherry pits. “Empty your pockets, boys. Oscar, if you have any rocks, put them here. I think we can destroy that balloon with what we’ve got on hand.”

  Oscar added six rocks of various sizes to the pile. From his leather bag, George withdrew a length of rope, the Star of Victory, Patty’s butterfly pendant, a few receipts, The Proceedings of the Old Bailey, and three shillings. Ruthie didn’t have any pockets, of course, but she plucked a few small pebbles from her fur and added them to the pile.

  Ada rocked back on her heels and observed the pathetic collection of objects with a sigh. “If only I’d thought to bring a crossbow and arrows… but this will do. A rock stuck inside one of my eggs with a few drops of acid from my vial should make the perfect projectile. All we need is a projectile weapon and something sticky.”