Shadows of the Lost Sun

by Carrie Ryan

  He sighed. “Fine.” He strolled toward the gangplank, Remy close on his heels. “Hey, librarian,” he called when he reached the shore. “How long until we get our friends back?”

  “His name’s Yurl,” Remy reminded him.

  The librarian stepped toward the towering coral tree with its rows of shells. “So, here’s the thing, guys.” He tapped the surface of the shell, and it turned translucent. Coll could see Ardent’s bony frame and Marrill snuggled in next to him, with some other kid squished down in the corner.

  “Oh hey—look!” Remy pointed out. “I found Plus One.”

  Coll looked closer. All around the three occupants, little paper tubes pushed out from the walls. Brightly colored tendrils spread out from their tips, waving peacefully like a field of feathers.

  “Stestor’s bones,” Coll barked. “What are those things?”

  The librarian slapped him on the back. “Those are the Shell Weavers, my good man. Your buddies in there are communing with them. And let me tell you, that’s a good thing, because that waterfall out there, it’s not looking so hot for the old Shell Shoals of Oneira. Anyway,” he continued, “no opening this sucker until all of that is wrapped up. Try as you might, it will not happen.” He rapped his knuckles on the surface of the chamber, and it turned opaque again. Coll noticed that where once it had been dull, now the shell was bright as polished ivory.

  “How long will that take?” Remy demanded.

  Yurl rubbed his oddly smooth chin. “Well, let’s see here. I’m not a mathmagician, but I’d say… taking the rate of the imaginfilters… and judging from the shadow creep… squaring the hypotenuse…” He counted quickly on his fingers. “I’d say about slightly longer than any of us has left to live.”

  Coll kicked at the ground. “What good are you?”

  Yurl shrugged. “Who said I was any good?”

  Remy glared at Coll. “Okay, there’s got to be a way to get Marrill, Ardent, and Plus One out of that shell before the void swallows us. Maybe we can speed up the Shell Weavers.…”

  “Nope,” Yurl said.

  “Or slow the void?” Remy offered.

  Coll crossed his arms. “If we could do that, we wouldn’t be in this predicament in the first place.”

  Remy threw up her hands. “Well, there has to be something!” Together, they stared at the sealed prison containing their friends.

  Coll eyed it carefully, following the lines of the shell into the wall. It struck him that the shell was a single little unit. Its walls curved around, but they weren’t joined with the wall of the Library so much as stuck to it. Attached, he thought, like a barnacle to a hull.

  And Coll knew from long experience: Barnacles could be scraped loose. Well, most of them at least.

  “We’re taking the whole thing,” he announced. In that same moment, the first wind coming off the great waterfall reached them, tousling Remy’s hair. He glanced past her to the void drawing ever closer.

  Something in his gut clenched at the thought of her being so close to eternal oblivion. “Remy, you man the Kraken. Have Ropebone throw us some lines to help pry the shell free.” The tightness in his chest eased when she nodded and sprinted back onto the ship.

  “How can I help?” asked a young girl hovering to the side. He glanced around, wondering where she’d come from. Another gust of wind blew across them, reminding Coll they didn’t have much time.

  “Here,” he said, handing her a dagger. He turned and started chipping at the base of the shell. “We have to make a notch for the rope.”

  “This is really great, you guys,” Yurl told them as they set to work. “It’s nice seeing you all band together as a team and whatnot. Also, the Shell Weavers are going to really appreciate you saving some of them, you know? I mean, they won’t actually appreciate it, because they don’t really process stuff on that level, but you get what I’m saying.”

  Coll ignored the librarian as he smashed his dagger down with all his might, creating a notch and then prying at the edges of the shell to loosen them. He tried not to think about the void. About what would happen if they couldn’t pull the shell free in time.

  Instead he focused on the pull of the water at his feet, calculating the drag it would have on the Kraken. He listened to the whip of the wind through the rigging, noting how much thrust it would give them when he dropped the sails.

  He took into account all of it—the weight of the cargo, whether the Promenade Deck was present or absent, the tilt of the suns, and the currents in the shoals—to determine just how much time he had before it would be too late to escape.

  The answer wasn’t good.

  “Incoming!” Remy shouted as lines sprang from the Kraken. Coll grabbed one, slipping it around the notch he’d cut. A girl grabbed the other, knotting it into place.

  “Pull, Ropebone!” Coll shouted.

  Over in its mooring, the Kraken rocked to one side. The line went tight. The shell wiggled, but didn’t budge.

  The girl looked at Coll, her eyes pleading. “Can you get the ship any closer?”

  If he were the only one at risk, he wouldn’t give it a second thought. But he was responsible for the rest of the crew—Remy, the pirats, Ropebone, even the Naysayer. He refused to put them in more danger than they already were.

  The reef shuddered underneath them, fissures and cracks running across the shoals. The void had reached the edge of the reef, just beyond where it rose from the water. As Coll watched, an entire shelf of coral broke free and disappeared over the waterfall.

  They were out of time. He noticed a girl struggling to help him free the shell, and he balked. “Go!” He shouted to be heard over the sound of destruction. “Get to the ship, where it’s safe.”

  “Are you leaving?” she cried.

  He glanced toward the Kraken and saw Remy standing on the quarterdeck, her hands gripping the wheel, feet wide and braced as he’d taught her. Her hair whipped around her head, making her scowl of concentration appear even fiercer than usual. She shouted a string of orders, and though he couldn’t hear them, he watched as the ship burst to life at her command.

  He smiled. She made a fine captain.

  And she would be devastated if something happened to Marrill.

  He doubled his attack on the shell, chipping hard at the coral around it, not caring when a sharp edge sliced at his knuckles. There was another crack from the reef, and another shudder. Coll felt the land beneath him begin to slide, slipping toward the yawning abyss.

  The whole of the Library leaned, the towering coral tree listing away from them. But in the process, it opened up a channel all the way to the Kraken. Coll watched in horror as Remy turned the ship, sailing her closer. Straight toward the void.

  She was going to get herself killed, and there was nothing he could do.

  More and more lines flew from the Kraken, anchoring all around the shell that held Ardent and Marrill. It was mostly free, but there was still a bit near the bottom that refused to give.

  From out of nowhere, a girl leapt onto the shell. She jumped up and down on it, using her body weight as leverage. A straining groan like the death rattle of a giant filled the air. Behind them, oblivion yawned, sucking in more and more of the coral shoals.

  “This is a sad day,” Yurl lamented. “All those dreams, all that history, lost. But you know, what do I know? I’m just a simple amalgamation of stray thoughts and ideas assembled into the semblance of a person. Maybe there’s a reason dreams get forgotten. And now that you guys have a few Weavers, maybe you can build new shoals one day.”

  The reef crumbled out from underneath the librarian. The great coral tree shuddered, wobbled, fell. “Oh, here we go, new friends!” Yurl said. “The Library of Dreams is falling. Fallen, fallen, is the Library.”

  As the great tree toppled beneath them, Coll struck the shell with all his might. The girl jumped and jumped, shouting at the top of her lungs. And just as it seemed the falling reef would pull them away into the void, the shell poppe
d free.

  It snapped toward the Kraken, landing on her deck with a thud. No longer tethered, the ship shuddered, golden water splashing up over the railings. Remy spun the wheel, hard.

  Standing on the last scrap of coral before the waterfall, Coll felt the immense pull of the void. He was close enough now that he could stretch out a hand and brush his fingers against the emptiness.

  He had a moment of wondering what that would be like. Being done with his endless stretch of days. Being done with his curse. Being done with his memories.

  But then he felt the nudge of a rope against his hand. He grabbed tight. As it began to yank him away, he noticed a girl next to him, about to be sucked into the void. He reached out, snagging her arm, and together they flew toward the Kraken.

  They landed on the quarterdeck, surrounded by chaos. Pirate Stream water dripped from the railing on the port side, and a gaggle of pirats were using pot lids to protect themselves as they battled a band of fanged cutlery. Nearby, a trio of stools danced in a circle, singing nursery rhymes off key. Square in the middle of them, Marrill’s cat hunched, water dripping from his fur as he spoke.

  To the man in iron, I leave his wish and the knowledge that the tides of the Stream run patient and true.

  Coll glanced at Remy. She stood gripping the wheel, ignoring it all as she steered them away from the void. Her quick thinking and daring had saved their lives. And he had no idea what to say. So he gestured at the Stream-doused cacophony. “This is why we don’t leave things lying around on the deck.”

  She smiled and patted his shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

  CHAPTER 16

  A Ribbon and Ink

  Tears slipped from Marrill’s eyes. Whether they were in joy or sorrow, she didn’t know. Maybe they were both. She held her mother’s hand on the edge of the cliff they had jumped from years ago, a tropical waterfall pouring into the crystal-blue pool below. Inside it, the Shell Weavers spread their multicolored tendrils, glowing bioluminescent in the dusk.

  “See?” her mother said. “Aren’t you glad you leapt in feetfirst?”

  Marrill nodded. It had been a whirlwind day. It started with jumping off the cliff again, but when she hit the water, they’d been swimming in the Pirate Stream. Only, with her mom there, the waters weren’t dangerous.

  At first, she’d felt the pulse of anxiety all around her, the nebulous swirl of fear that filled the Shell Weavers, constantly threatening to spill over and turn the dream into a nightmare. But with her mom there, it was okay. They’d swung like Tarzan through the Gibbering Grove, dared each other to climb the heights of Monerva, played doubles on Margaham’s Game.

  Finally, Marrill was able to share with her mom all the wonders of the Pirate Stream. And with her mom there, everything was safe. Just like in real life, whenever she got scared, her mother was there to walk her through it. Her mom always knew what to do. Even when Marrill knew she didn’t, somehow she did.

  Slowly, as the day wound on, the anxiety died down. Fear gave way to fun; worry turned to winsome. Now, the whole world hummed with a peaceful contentment.

  And yet, there was still a hard core of sorrow. Marrill gripped her mother’s fingers tight, trying her best to pretend it wasn’t there. She wanted this day to last forever. But she knew it wouldn’t. She knew that no matter what she did, it was just a dream. When she woke up, she’d be out on the Pirate Stream, facing the Lost Sun of Dzannin. And her mother would be in a bed in Boston, waiting for doctors in white coats to bring her news.

  She looked up into her mom’s eyes and sniffed. “I don’t want you to go, Mom.”

  Her mother’s fingers ran through her hair. “Oh, honey,” she said. “I’m not gone yet. Just enjoy the moment. Even if it is a dream. Because here, dreams really can last forever.”

  Marrill leaned in, letting her mother’s arm drape around her shoulders. She smiled as she watched the walls of ivory and horn stitching themselves into ribbons that wrapped around them both.

  A moment later, her eyes popped open. For real this time, not in the dream. Around her, the shell turned brittle, cracked, and crumbled to dust. Before she knew it, she was lying next to Ardent and Fin on the deck of the Enterprising Kraken, as if she’d always been there.

  “Ohthankgoodness,” Remy cried, pulling Marrill and Fin into a hug and squeezing tight. “That one was way too close.” The babysitter stood. “Full sails,” she cried, and the ship burst to life.

  As the wind caught them and the Kraken gained speed, Marrill looked around. Next to her, the paper that had once made up the tubes of the Shell Weavers lay unspooled on the deck, joined together to make a single long ribbon.

  The dream ribbon! she realized. The raw material of the Map to Everywhere.

  They’d found it! She glanced around for any sign of the Weavers themselves. There was nothing. The Shell Weavers were gone. But suddenly, she realized she held something in her hand.

  It was a white shell. A beautiful, round half-moon like a clam’s, with ridges of ivory and troughs of yellow-white horn.

  She clutched the shell to her as the others swept her into an embrace. Inside, she could feel the warmth of the Weavers, tucked away and hibernating. Waiting to build a new Library, somewhere far away and safe.

  Later that night, Marrill sat at the table Ardent had pulled out onto the main deck, as he liked to do in fair weather, and held the dream ribbon carefully in her hands. Karny purred happily in her lap. The wizard was pontificating loudly on the origin of the material and the nature of dreams, but she was barely listening. The blank canvas of the ribbon seemed to speak to her of endless possibilities. It seemed to beg to be filled with them.

  “…and when you consider that the dreams had not yet been had, well!” Ardent explained to an obviously bored Remy. “I couldn’t begin to fathom how one knits with unformed dreams. Ah, the wonders of the Dzane.”

  “Pretty spiff stuff, that,” Fin whispered in Marrill’s ear. “Raw dreams and such.”

  She nodded. “I kind of want to draw on it.”

  Fin looked one way, then the other. “Thought you might.” From a pocket in his coat, he produced a packet of her drawing pencils. “I nicked a set from you.” He coughed. “I mean for you,” he hastened to add. “Figured you’d run out somewhere when you really needed them.”

  Marrill’s eyes brightened as she reached for the pencils. “You’re the best,” she said, and she meant it. She pulled one free and pressed the graphite down to the blank surface. “What should I sketch?”

  He screwed up his features in thought. “How about… me kicking the Lost Sun in the face!” He dropped back into a mean fighter’s stance.

  Marrill couldn’t help but laugh. “How about… a dragon!” she said. Quickly, she sketched out a vicious-looking beast, with a head too big for its body, a mouth full of oversized, dangerous-looking teeth, and a thick tail that wrapped around one of the Kraken’s masts.

  As she put the finishing touches on the drawing, the image on the page shifted, breathing fire. Tongues of flame lit the night around her, licking toward the table. Marrill yelped, dropping the ribbon and jumping back. Karny bolted from her lap, racing up the nearest mast despite the pirats’ protests.

  Ardent looked up. “Marrill, what in fourteen suns—”

  Before he could finish, a huge scaly foot with enormous claws stomped against the nearby stairs. Marrill’s jaw dropped as her sketched dragon lurched down from the forecastle. Its enormous head bobbed from side to side comically, snapping at the air. Its tail lashed in a wide arc, forcing her to drop back.

  Marrill glanced down at the dragon she’d just sketched. The image on the ribbon mimicked exactly what was happening in real life!

  “By the Dzane, a megacephalic wyrm!” Ardent cried.

  “Dragon!” Remy shrieked, darting for the main hatch.

  Marrill rolled to one side as another stream of fire burst over her head.

  “Never fear!” Ardent announced, standing tall before the furiou
s creature. “This beast will not be the first I have slain. Away with you, lizard!” Bright blue lightning crackled from his fingers, directly at the dragon’s overlarge nose.

  The blast passed straight through the dragon, shooting out its back and smashing the bulkhead beside Marrill. “Ardent, watch out!” she cried.

  The old man stared at the dragon, then at his hands, then back at the dragon. “I say, that’s a new one on me,” he declared. And then the dragon’s maw snapped down on him, swallowing him whole. Marrill’s scream joined five others, wailing into the night.

  She struggled to her knees. Something about those screams wasn’t right. Namely, Ardent was still screaming—even though he had been devoured. She looked back to where her friend had been standing… and still was.

  “AAAAAAAAaaaaaah… oh. Oh, I see now,” Ardent muttered. “Well, that’s quite clever, isn’t it?”

  The dragon growled and snarled. As it turned on the tight deck, its tail passed right through the timbers of the railing.

  It wasn’t real.

  “Fin,” Marrill hissed, pointing to the unfurled dream ribbon the creature had come from. “Erase the drawing!” He looked at her like she was crazy. “The dragon is an illusion!” she said, tossing him her pencil.

  “Oooooh,” he said. Still, he ducked and dodged each time the dragon wheeled on him, before finally grabbing the long parchment and scrubbing it hard with the eraser. The dragon let out a howl into the night, disappearing one swipe at a time.

  Marrill heaved a sigh of relief as the beast vanished. That would be the last time she drew on dream ribbon, she felt sure.

  “Well, that was exciting,” Coll deadpanned. He made his way toward the table, Remy following cautiously behind.

  Ardent clapped. “Wasn’t it? Only the second time I’ve ever been swallowed whole!” He bit his lip, apparently realizing what he’d just said. “I’d prefer not to discuss the first time, if it’s all the same.” Everyone quickly agreed that it was.

  Marrill walked over to the ribbon, taking it gingerly from Fin. The parchment seemed so innocuous now. And yet, she could still feel the possibility flowing out of it. She had to admit, a part of her still itched to sketch on it.