The Book of Wonders

by Richards, Jasmine

  Crack.

  Something struck her head. Zardi’s legs stopped treading water and she was dragged under once more. She fought back. Her head again broke the ocean’s skin; she saw that the sea was littered with planks of wood and timber chests from the Falcon. She grabbed onto a piece.

  The waves hammered at her but she managed to scan the water. There was no sign of the ship. Had it been destroyed? Could it have happened so quickly? Her heart pounded painfully. The Falcon and Sinbad’s crew might all be underwater. Rhidan was gone. I’ve lost him.

  Zardi didn’t know how long she held onto that piece of wood, her eyes searching for the Falcon, but it never appeared. Her fingers cramped into claws and her teeth chattered so hard she thought they might break. The smiling faces of her family filled her drowsy mind. They held open their arms to her, told her she would be cold no more.

  “Zub, I’m coming,” she whispered.

  Her eyes fought to stay open.

  “Baba, I’m coming.”

  Zardi’s fingers slipped off the wood and the waves carried her away.

  “I’m coming home.”

  Darkness washed over her.

  When she regained consciousness, her cheek rested against sand, and her mouth was filled with it. Spitting the grains out, Zardi sat up, her archer’s belt digging uncomfortably into her side.

  She was on a deserted beach. The air smelled of both earth and salt, and the sky was tinged with saffron. Silver sand with a blue sheen stretched off in one direction, and in the other an enormous rock ridge that looked like an upturned cooking pot jutted out into the sea.

  Zardi shook her head.

  This isn’t Taraket.

  When she squeezed her eyes shut, memories gradually began to lap over her and she remembered—everything. She remembered the look on her sister’s face when she was captured by the sultan’s guards, the plea in her father’s eyes to stop Shahryār while he was dragged away. She could see the Windrose on Sula’s table, and heard the sound of Rhidan’s whirlwind screeching in her ears.

  Zardi staggered to her feet, her legs feeling old and weak—as if they belonged to someone else. She steadied herself against a tall palm tree, heavy with coconuts, and began to cough violently, salt water wetting her lips. The whole length of the silver-blue beach was spread out before her and, farther inland, lush and strange vegetation: trees with maroon-colored bark and cascading leaves the shape of arrowheads. For an instant Zardi felt a spurt of excitement as she wondered what mysteries lay among the trees. But the thought felt like a betrayal. She had to find the Falcon first. Find survivors. Find Rhidan.

  She walked along the shore, taking off her sandals, which were flabby and sodden with water. The wet sand squelched between her toes, comforting her even though the sight of silver-blue sand was so strange. The ocean was more lavender than azure, reflecting the sky above, a violet bruise, streaked with orange and red.

  After some distance she neared a cluster of white boulders. They cut down the middle of the beach like a pyramid of giant marbles. Zardi froze. She’d spotted movement on top of the white pyramid. Squinting, she could see a lone figure lowering himself from the rocks and running toward her. It was a boy with hair like bright moonlight and a silver amulet around his neck.

  They met in a jumble of words and hugs. Neither allowed the other to get a word in, excitement and relief making them both selfish and eager.

  Zardi felt tears well up as she took in her friend’s appearance. He had a long scratch down the left side of his face; it cut into his cheek like a gully. Ridiculously, it occurred to her that Rhidan now looked a lot more like a pirate than a sorcerer. “You’re alive!” she managed to gasp out.

  “So are you.” His voice was hoarse. “I knew I’d find you. I had to believe that.”

  She gripped his hand. There was so much she needed to ask him but for a moment it was just enough to feel his palm in hers. “How’s the Falcon?” she said finally.

  “The ship survived,” Rhidan explained. “We got lucky and one of the waves carried us past the rocks and onto the beach. We’re on the other side of that thing.” He pointed to the white pyramid. “Sinbad and Musty have everything under control. All those who can stand are pulling the ship farther up on the beach.”

  “How is everyone?” Zardi asked. There was another unspoken question in her words and Rhidan heard it.

  “There’re a few injuries but everyone made it.” He looked down at his feet. “No thanks to me. I almost killed us all, Zardi. My magic, I just couldn’t control it.”

  “But you got us away from the sultan,” Zardi reminded him. “You saved us from him.”

  “And shipwrecked us here,” Rhidan shot back. “Musty lost his compass and all the navigational charts in the whirlwind. No one has any idea where we are. All we can work out is that we’re on some kind of island.”

  Zardi sighed patiently. “Will you stop worrying? You’re a sorcerer. You can use your magic to get us back to Arribitha. No problem.”

  “Actually, yes problem,” Rhidan burst out. “A big problem, in fact. I can’t get us home. I can’t get us back to Arribitha. My magic is gone.”

  16

  Answers

  “Gone?” Zardi repeated. “You made a whirlwind appear out of thin air. How can your magic be gone?”

  Rhidan spread his arms wide. “There is this emptiness inside me—it wasn’t there before.” His eyes glittered. “When I made the whirlwind come, it was like the amulet was telling me where to go and I felt so powerful. My whole life that ability to absorb magic had been inside me and I didn’t know it. But now it’s gone and I don’t know how to make it come back. I’ve been trying everything.”

  An image of Zubeyda and Baba imprisoned in Taraket’s tallest watchtower stamped itself behind her eyes, and Zardi struggled to keep her frustration from her face. They needed to get back to Sula and find the Windrose if they were ever going to defeat Shahryār.

  She sucked in a calming breath. “Your magic will come back, Rhidan. It will come back because it has to.”

  “I hope so.” Rhidan tugged on his amulet anxiously. His brow suddenly creased, his whole face becoming a question as he held the entwined snakes in his hand.

  “What is it?” Zardi asked.

  “The amulet,” Rhidan replied. “It feels different, heavier somehow.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Come on. Sinbad and the others will want to see you.”

  “Really?” Zardi rubbed her arms. “Sinbad told me that his men would think it bad luck to have a woman onboard a ship. I’ve only proved them right.”

  Rhidan snorted. “I wouldn’t worry about silly superstitions. Out of the two of us it’s me that they’re really mad at, especially after I told them that my magic is gone.”

  They climbed over the white boulders and, as they dropped down onto the beach, Zardi was faced with the ruined beauty of the Falcon. The ship was being dragged up the beach by the twins, Mo and Ali, and several other sailors. Nadeem looked on, resting heavily on a makeshift crutch.

  The Falcon’s two masts had snapped and hung uselessly like dislocated arms, the colorful sails crumpled butterfly wings against a sky streaked with red. On the deck, splintered planks stood up on end and water gushed from the battered hull like blood from a gaping wound. The proud Falcon figurehead had been shattered as well. A friend lost forever.

  “No need for the long face, Zee.” Sinbad walked up to them. One of his eyes was bloodied and swollen shut but she could see no other injury. “Those rocks almost destroyed my ship, but we’ll restore the Falcon to her former glory. It’s nothing that a little hard work won’t fix.”

  “It is going to take a bit more than that, Captain,” Musty said, bustling up to them. “If we want to get off this island, it is not a matter of fixing the Falcon but rather rebuilding her.” He turned to Zardi. “Glad to see you made it.”

  “Me too.” She frowned as his earlier words sank in. Zubeyda had been kidnapped by the sultan nine day
s ago, which meant that the Hunt was only eighty-one days away. She and Rhidan had to get off this island. “How long will we need to rebuild the ship?” she asked.

  “We’ll need to make a proper survey of this island and see if we can find the right materials first,” Musty replied. “As far as we can tell, the island has no inhabitants, but we must go forward with care.”

  Zardi turned her head and looked into the depths of the forest that bordered the beach. A spark of excitement flared inside her despite her anxiety. This island was so different from anything she’d seen before. She spotted a cluster of trees with golden, spiral-shaped leaves and bark that looked like bubbles on mud. She couldn’t wait to explore further.

  “What do you mean by the right materials?” Rhidan asked.

  Musty rubbed his chin. “Well, we don’t even begin to have enough nails or bolts to repair the ship, so we need rope. Lots of it, so that we can sew the planks of the deck back into position.”

  “That doesn’t sound too bad,” Sinbad said cheerfully. “I have no doubt we’ll be off this island by the next full moon.”

  Musty looked at Sinbad with exasperation. “Of course we’ll need to make the rope first, which we’ll have to make from the green coconut husks that we still need to gather. Then we have to soak the husk fibers in salt water for several weeks to make them strong enough before twining them into rope to bind the boards together. Oh, and let’s not forget the husks we’ll need to pack into the seams of the hull to make the Falcon watertight.”

  “I’m guessing that’s a lot of coconuts,” Sinbad said, scratching his head.

  “Yes, Captain, it is an awful lot of coconuts. Hundreds in fact.”

  Sinbad narrowed his eyes. “It’s a shame we can’t magic up a few nails, eh, Rhidan? Or even a whirlwind to take us back to Arribitha.”

  “My magic is gone,” Rhidan murmured, tugging on his amulet. “I told you.”

  “Yes, you did,” Sinbad said. “You told me that you have no magic, but you haven’t told me who you really are or why the sultan is so eager to catch you.” He folded his arms and looked at them intently.

  Musty coughed politely. “Captain, I think I should go so you three can talk in private.”

  Zardi shook her head. “No, stay, Musty. I want you to hear this. Your crewmates are shipwrecked on this island and that is due to me and Rhidan.”

  Musty looked at her with kind brown eyes. “Guilt is such a useless emotion, Zee. You learn that by the time you get to be my age. Besides, if I remember correctly, we were the ones that kidnapped you. Our fates were tied to yours the day we made that choice.” The shipmaster looked at Sinbad disapprovingly, and the captain’s cheeks became ruddy with color.

  Zardi gave Musty a grateful smile and began her story. She started with why she’d left Taraket and explained about the image of the Windrose that Rhidan had conjured up on Sula’s table.

  At the end of her extraordinary tale, Sinbad let out a low whistle of astonishment. “If you’d told me, even two hours ago, that you were waiting for my mother to introduce you to a djinni who was shackled to a golden lamp I’d have called you a liar.” He studied Zardi and Rhidan. “As it is, I saw the purple fire on the boat, and if Sula says you have a destiny then I will help you fulfill it.” He slapped a hand on Rhidan’s shoulder. “The days to come will not be easy. Some of the sailors will be scared of you—many would have just been children themselves when magic was scoured from our lives. But Shahryār is evil, not magic.”

  Sinbad turned to face his wrecked vessel. “It will take time and patience, but we can make the Falcon fly again. We’ll get back to Arribitha.”

  Zardi gazed at Sinbad’s ship. She’d work until her hands bled to get it fixed as quickly as she could. She looked over at Rhidan. He was staring down at the back of his amulet. She felt a flash of annoyance. His focus should be on getting back to Arribitha, not on studying the amulet.

  She was about to say so when a high-pitched sound froze them all for an instant. It came from deep in the forest. Metal screeching against metal. Zardi had heard something like it at the blacksmith’s forge. The ground beneath her feet shuddered, and there was an awful pounding noise as if the whole of the sultan’s battalion was galloping toward them.

  “What’s that?” Mo cried from farther up the beach.

  “Trouble,” Sinbad replied. “And it’s heading straight for us.”

  17

  The Brass Rider

  With a roar, a giant metal man, as tall as Taraket’s highest watchtower, came out of the forest. The sun glinted off his highly polished body and he rode on a giant steed made from the same shiny metal. Hexagonal emerald eyes glinted fiercely in his masklike face and he gripped a metal club. Zardi had seen this metal before; her grandmother’s favorite tea set was made out of it: brass.

  “Strangers are forbidden on Desolation Island,” the brass rider said, bringing his massive horse to a thundering halt. “You will be destroyed.” His voice reverberated like the clang of a bell.

  Sinbad held up his hands and cautiously approached the brass giant. Zardi and the rest of the Falcon’s crew followed him. “We’ve been shipwrecked on your island. Let us fix our vessel and we’ll leave,” the captain said.

  “My instructions are clear,” the brass rider replied. “Strangers are forbidden on Desolation Island. You will be destroyed.”

  “Hang on there,” Sinbad said calmly. “Who gave you these instructions? Can we speak to your master?”

  The brass rider looked confused. “I know not who made me. Strangers are forbidden on Desolation Island. You will be destroyed.” The brass rider lifted his club and the horse reared up on its hind legs. Sharp metal hooves glimmered like knives in the sunlight. Fear charged through Zardi. Those hooves could slice flesh, shatter bone.

  “Stop right there.” Rhidan ran in front of Sinbad. “Take another step and you’ll be sorry.”

  The brass rider roared in rage at the threat and galloped forward. But Rhidan stood his ground.

  Zardi dashed to Rhidan’s side even as everybody else fell back toward the shore. “What are you doing?” she screamed over the pounding of the horse’s metal hooves. But Rhidan didn’t reply. Instead his face scrunched up in concentration and she saw the amulet around his neck throb with purple light. The snakes around the amethyst stone began to writhe and twist.

  Zardi gasped. She had never seen the amulet do anything like that in the past.

  “I think the boy is going to use magic on him!” Zardi heard the cook exclaim from behind her.

  Hope filled Zardi up. She didn’t understand how it’d happened, but Rhidan was getting power from the amulet! She watched as her friend gripped the writhing snakes for a moment and then held his palms out. A stream of purple light flew from them, hitting the brass rider squarely in his chest. The metal giant flew out of his saddle and fell to earth with a ground-shuddering thud. Spooked, the brass horse reared up on its hind legs, let out a screeching, tinny cry, and then galloped away up the beach and into the forest.

  The crew cheered. “That’s it, Rhidan!” Zain yelled. “Show him what you’re made of.”

  The brass destroyer staggered to his feet.

  “Go on, boy,” Sinbad said, and Zardi turned to see the captain dancing on the spot jubilantly. “Give the giant another blast of that purple fire.”

  Rhidan let rip with another flash of light, and Zardi got ready to cheer but it died in her throat. The purple bolt of magic was much fainter than the last and, although it hit the brass giant directly on his chest again, it only halted him for a moment.

  Rhidan’s face fell and he desperately gripped the amulet. “It’s not working,” he wailed. “I think it’s run out of power.”

  The brass giant was only a few strides away now, and behind her Zardi could hear the pounding footsteps of the crew as they scattered like frightened geese to the left and right.

  Rhidan was still grasping at the amulet, his face set determinedly.

 
“We need to get out of here,” Zardi bellowed, trying to pull at her friend. Rocks and planks of wood suddenly flew above her head and rained down on the giant. Sinbad’s men hadn’t deserted them. They were throwing anything they could find at their attacker, but the missiles didn’t even leave a dent.

  The destroyer was on top of them now and still Rhidan did not move. The faintest of purple light was gathering around his fingertips.

  The giant lifted his club above his head.

  Zardi dived at her friend’s legs, pushing him out of the way of the descending weapon. Her tackle flung Rhidan’s arm high and an almost translucent streak of purple left his fingertips and soared upward, striking out the giant’s emerald eye. Zardi and Rhidan watched as the gem flew from its socket and landed in the sand next to them.

  The brass rider gave a screeching cry as he dropped to his knees and covered his eye socket with a hand. Black oil ran from the wound, leaving a tear’s track.

  “We’ve got to get that other eye out,” Zardi said as the giant got to his feet with a howl of rage. “It’s the only thing that hurts him.”

  “There’s nothing left in the amulet,” Rhidan panted as they both scrambled to stand. “It came alive to help us but it’s dead now.”

  The brass giant, still howling, swung his club wildly above his head.

  “Head for the forest!” Zardi heard Mirzani yell from behind her.

  “Don’t run, fight,” Sinbad shouted back. “Can’t you see that the giant is hurt?”

  But his men paid him no heed. Mirzani, Dabis, Syed, Zain, and Tariq ran toward the trees.

  The destroyer spotted them and, with terrifying speed, turned and chased down the fleeing men. Under the swing of his mighty club, Mirzani fell to the ground. The trees with the golden spiral leaves were knocked down as the giant barreled into the forest, and Zardi yelled out a warning as she saw one of them fall toward Dabis.