Island of Dragons

by Lisa McMann

  Soon all of the remaining attackers were surrounded.

  Alex retreated for safety to the front steps of the mansion, with Simber, Florence, and Talon standing behind him. Together in silence they watched Pan demonstrate to her children once more how to decimate an enemy group in quick fashion. And soon there were no more pirates.

  » » « «

  When the dragons had finished their lesson, they returned to the water to cool down and play, and Pan joined them there, praising them for their work in detecting the mostly good from the mostly bad.

  The remaining defenders let their weapons fall from their hands. Some of them wept. Others fell to their knees, overcome by the intensity of the battle, or the fact that they had made it through alive. None of them felt like cheering.

  They had overcome the enemy at last, but it came at a tremendous cost. Alex wasn’t sure how many Artiméans remained alive, but evidence of their struggle was strewn about the entire island. How many had they lost? The numbers seemed extraordinary. Clive. Liam. Mr. Appleblossom. And Alex spotted Bock the golden-horned deer lying on his side, dead too. Hundreds more, gone for the sake of Artimé. It was almost too much to bear. But the hospital ward, with ninety full beds, was buzzing with the news of the dragons. There was life in there. The bodies would heal. And Artimé was at peace at last. Was it worth it?

  Alex knew that was an impossible question. Would he have done better by surrendering and saving everyone’s life, but forcing them to become slaves to the pirates? In Alex’s mind, there was no choice—he’d done the right thing. And though he’d faltered, he’d always had people, creatures, and statues to back him up and set him on track again.

  Aaron came up to Alex in the crowd, a hint of a grin working at the corner of his mouth. “You made it through,” he said.

  Alex held his brother’s gaze and nodded. “Amazing. And you—you look . . . good, actually.”

  “Fast healer,” said Aaron. His tired eyes lit up, making Alex laugh. “I’m half-dead inside, though. I don’t care if it’s still daytime. I’m going straight to bed. Wake me up if you need anything.”

  “I will,” said Alex.

  Aaron went inside.

  While others filed into the mansion to collapse from exhaustion, Florence, Simber, and Alex remained outside looking at the destruction.

  “It’s over,” said Alex. “I can’t believe it.”

  “I hope we never see anything like this again,” said Florence.

  “Me too,” said Simber. “I’m rrready to rrretirrre.”

  Just then, there was a bit of commotion around the corner of the mansion behind them. Alarmed, they turned to look. Alex’s heart sank, fearing the worst—that someone had been hiding, lying in wait to attack. But then three figures rounded the corner, and a familiar voice pealed as they came closer. “What has happened here? Did we miss our chance to help you, Alex-san?”

  Alex, Florence, and Simber could barely contain their shock.

  “Ishibashi-san!” exclaimed Alex. “Is it really you? Ito-san and Sato-san!” He was caught speechless for a moment, and then found his voice. “How in the world did you get here? Did you build a boat?”

  Ishibashi shrugged and smiled his toothless smile, his eyes twinkling behind his cat-eye glasses. “I fixed the tube,” he said.

  A Little Help

  After their arrival, the scientists discovered they’d just missed Aaron and didn’t want to wake him. They’d wait until morning to surprise him. In the meantime they helped clean up the mansion and looked forward to retiring to their newly assigned rooms to enjoy the comforts of home: bubble baths, soft beds, and room service. It wasn’t too much of a hardship.

  Henry and Carina and the nurses continued to help the injured, who still streamed into the hospital ward. Simber, Talon, and the young dragons began to transport the dead pirates and Warblerans to some empty Warbler ships, piling them up high on the deck. Pan promised to give them a respectful burial at sea.

  The herbivorous dropbears from the Island of Legends returned in a mini stampede to their island and disappeared into the woods, and the hibagon and Vido the rooster returned home as well. Lhasa retired to her favorite spot on Karkinos to mourn the loss of Bock, who had died valiantly protecting a group of Warbler parents who were fighting for Artimé. No doubt Bock had wanted them to fulfill their wish of being reunited with their children again.

  The squirrelicorns transported the Artiméan dropbears and the little dog from the ships to the rock. The rock put them inside his mouth and delivered them to the jungle to be with Panther, with plans to return for the scorpion when Simber was finished collecting pirates.

  Alex rode on Spike to the pirate ship where Ol’ Tater was still stomping around and crushing things. Standing on Spike’s back and looking into the very happy mastodon’s eyes, Alex sang the song that put Ol’ Tater to sleep.

  Once Ol’ Tater was in dreamland, Alex climbed aboard the ship. He pressed his hand against the mastodon’s side and closed his eyes, breathing deeply for a moment, ignoring the pain all over his body. With all the concentration he could muster, Alex focused on the giant empty space in the Museum of Large and whispered, “Transport.”

  Ol’ Tater vanished.

  Alex listened for a moment. “Do you hear any screaming, Spike?” he asked.

  “No I do not, the Alex,” said Spike.

  “Good. I think Ol’ Tater made it to the right place, then.”

  “I knew he would.” Spike was silent for a moment, perhaps in contemplation over the fate of a fellow magical creature. And then he said, “He was happy to stomp around and scare all the pirates away.”

  “Yes,” said Alex. “I definitely think he was finally happy. If there was any good in this battle, it was giving Ol’ Tater a ship and some pirates to stomp on for a couple of days.” He climbed down the side of the ship and dropped to Spike’s back, feeling like he just wanted to lie down and take a nap. But he stayed stoic, wanting to get as much taken care of as he could before nightfall. “Okay, Spike. Now we’ve got to get Captain Ahab and his head from our ship so Ms. Octavia can put him back together.”

  Spike traveled the short distance to the patchwork ship, weaving around the bevy of empty boats that floated untethered in the sea.

  Alex climbed aboard and looked around at the mess of a ship. It would take weeks to repair the damage inflicted by the pirates. But it was still floating safe and sound, thanks to Florence and Copper’s excellent work rebuilding it on the Island of Shipwrecks—not to mention the preserve spell that covered the exterior from stem to stern.

  “You did well, little ship,” Alex said, placing his hand on the mast. “Thank you for your excellent service through the years of battle.”

  Alex smiled at himself, a bit sheepish after talking to the ship like it was a person. But it had been his home for a good portion of the past few years, and it had served him and Artimé well. He thought back to the first time he’d seen the ship, whispering nonsensically in the Museum of Large. And he remembered all the journeys it had taken him on. The uncontrollable trip to the Island of Fire, then to the Island of Silence to rescue Samheed and Lani. The first eel attack that left Florence crashing through the deck and disappearing over the side, to rescuing Sky’s mother, Copper. The days of rest and mayhem on the Island of Legends. And then there was the violent trip down the waterfall and around the world; who could ever forget that? And the hurricane . . .

  Alex sighed. He was amazed by all that had taken place. Amazed by all he had accomplished since that day in the Commons of Quill when he had been sentenced to die.

  Little did Alex know back then that he’d see his brother again. Little did he know that life was just about to begin, and that it hadn’t ended for him, after all. Little did he know, on the bus to the Death Farm, that the blue-eyed girl connected to him by a rusty chain would become his fierce friend. That Samheed, whom Alex never liked in school, would become one of his closest confidants. And that Meghan, Alex’s b
est friend from early childhood, would die fighting for a land no one in Quill could have dreamed up . . . except for a man named Mr. Today.

  “Is everything okay, the Alex?” asked Spike.

  Alex pulled out of his reverie and looked over the edge. “It will be,” he said with a languid sigh. “Very soon it will be. I’ll get Captain Ahab.”

  “Good, because something seems strange here.”

  “Something strange?” Alex almost laughed. “Do you really think so?” He looked around at the twenty-four foreign ships in the water, the Island of Legends sitting off the coast of Artimé, and six water dragons not far from that. Nah. Not strange at all.

  Spike circled the ship as Alex gathered up Captain Ahab’s body. Then Alex brought it to the side of the ship where Spike had settled and lowered it over the side, letting it drop gently into the shallow water that covered Spike’s broad back. The whale rose up slightly to ground it.

  “Something is not right,” Spike said.

  Alex frowned. “Something new, you mean?”

  “Yes.”

  Alex groaned. “Okay, let me grab the head and we’ll go figure it out.”

  “You should come right now,” said Spike.

  “Okay. One second.” Alex quickly went to get Captain Ahab’s head. He picked it up and tucked it under his arm, and then hurried back to the side of the ship. He tossed Captain Ahab’s head to Spike, who caught it gently with her tail so it wouldn’t break.

  But just as Alex reached for the rope to climb overboard onto Spike’s back, he heard the horribly familiar zing of swords being pulled from their scabbards. He froze for a split second. His heart raced, and without turning around, he lunged for the railing. A second later he was jerked back, choked by the robe around his neck. Somebody was pulling him.

  He stumbled and tried to yell as the unknown attacker grabbed him around the chest from behind and pinned his arms down. Soon Alex felt the cool edge of a sword sliding across his neck. Alex closed his eyes and swallowed reflexively, and then he was being turned around.

  His eyes flew open. In front of him on the right was Twitch, the pirate captain’s first mate. And on the left was another pirate, a woman he didn’t recognize. Standing directly in front of him was Queen Eagala herself. Alive and well.

  Alex’s heart sank.

  Eagala folded her hands around the hilt of her sword and held it in front of her, pointing upward, like a prized possession, guarded by her strange, long, curling fingernails that snaked through the air.

  Alex opened his mouth to tell Spike to go for help, but Eagala pressed her sword to his lips, silencing him.

  In her most sinister voice, she said, “Your creature had better stay still and silent, or I’ll kill you right now.” It was loud enough for Spike to hear, and Spike didn’t move.

  Alex blinked. He didn’t dare speak with the blade against his mouth. All he could do now that he’d gotten over the shock of seeing Eagala was curse himself for not making sure she was dead. But how did she get from her ship to this one if she, like all Warblerans, couldn’t swim?

  Out of the corner of his eye, one of the tenders floated into view, and Alex had his answer. His stomach twisted. Maybe somebody on land would look this way. Was he visible to land? With his back turned to them, he wasn’t sure. Certainly Simber would notice if he was anywhere nearby. But who knew where Simber could be, collecting pirate bodies from all over Quill.

  Slowly Alex moved his left hand a fraction of an inch at a time, closer to the hilt of his sword. Eagala had apparently begun talking to him, as she was spitting in his face. Alex tuned in.

  “. . . my count, you have eighty-seven of my people on your island. You will have your creature bring them to me now—all of them, including your friends who caused me so much trouble. But the one I want the most is the child who shattered my raven curse. If you return them all, including that one, I may let you live.”

  Had Eagala seen the twins? Did she know who they were? Alex was furious, but he knew he couldn’t show it. There was no way he’d let Fifer anywhere near Eagala, or any of the Warblerans who had fought for Artimé. He’d never give them up.

  Eagala leaned forward, putting her face directly in front of his. Alex leaned back, but was immediately punished for it by First Mate Twitch, who stuck the point of his sword into Alex’s neck and flicked it away, leaving a cut. Eagala’s sword slid across Alex’s lips and left blood trickling from the bottom one. Sweat mingled with the cuts and stung him. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t move. His hand was still inches away from his sword.

  After a long moment of Queen Eagala staring into Alex’s eyes and Alex trying not to flinch, she finally pulled her sword away from his face. Slowly and deliberately she withdrew a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped the blade clean of his blood. “Tell your creature to fetch my people.”

  Alex could barely breathe. He closed his eyes, and when Twitch returned his sword’s blade to Alex’s neck and pressed down, Alex lifted his chin. “Spike,” he said.

  “Yes, the Alex?” said Spike.

  Alex swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing over Twitch’s blade. His mind whirred. “Did you hear what the queen said?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m in some pretty big trouble here,” said Alex, his voice quivering, “so let’s do what we need to do to get me out of it, then.”

  “Are you sure you want that, the Alex?” asked Spike.

  “I’m sure,” Alex said, trying to sound very unsure.

  Spike hesitated. “All right. I will go . . . right . . . now.”

  Alex’s eyes widened at the way Spike responded. He held deathly still as Spike shot away from the ship, and then, after a moment of suspended silence, something slammed hard against the hull, and Alex’s world began shaking and rocking uncontrollably. The sword pierced Alex’s neck a second time before the pirates lost their balance and their grip on him.

  Alex pulled from their grasp. He shoved the female pirate into Queen Eagala, sending them both sprawling and tangling in a pile of ropes, and he unsheathed his sword, lifting it up and swinging wildly. He caught Twitch off balance as the ship rolled and bounced, and flipped the pirate to the deck. Twitch kicked Alex’s sword into the air and got back up, but the ship lurched again, throwing them both down. Alex’s sword clattered nearby, and Twitch kicked it away again, out of reach.

  Alex had no time to search for a component. He slammed his fist into Twitch’s face as the other pirate returned, slicing Alex across the shoulder, just missing his neck thanks to the rocking boat. Alex lit into her and knocked her sword overboard as Eagala came running at him. Alex sidestepped her and grabbed for her sword, wresting it from her and ripping off two of her fingernails in the process, making her scream out in pain.

  Alex threw the disgusting fingernails to the deck and ran at Twitch, who was struggling to get to his feet. Alex didn’t flinch. He stabbed the sword into Twitch’s stomach and ran him through. Twitch wavered on his knees, then clattered to the deck. Alex tugged at the sword, trying to pull it out, but it was stuck fast. He whirled about, looking frantically for his own sword, and dodged the other pirate, who was running at him. He shoved her into Queen Eagala again, and when she came rebounding back, he grabbed the pirate by the jacket and ran her to the railing, her fingers digging at his eyes and throat. With all his might he lifted her up and threw her over the side of the ship into the water.

  Queen Eagala regained her footing and grabbed Alex’s sword from the deck. When Alex turned to fight her, she slammed the sword down hard on Alex’s already injured left shoulder. The pain sparked and burned through Alex, and he cried out as his left arm flopped uselessly to his side. He kicked Queen Eagala’s hands with all his might, sending the sword flying into the air.

  “Jump now, the Alex!” cried Spike.

  “She’s not dead yet!” Alex screamed. He couldn’t feel his left arm. He dove for the sword, retrieved it with his right hand and swung, hitting Queen Eagala awkwardly, just ha
rd enough to throw her off balance.

  “Jump now, the Alex!” said Spike again, more insistent this time.

  Alex frowned and tried gripping the sword with both hands for a final swing, but his left arm wasn’t working at all. He couldn’t hold it.

  “JUMP NOW, THE ALEX!” shouted Spike.

  Alex stopped questioning Spike. He threw the sword in Eagala’s face and kicked her in the stomach, giving himself enough time to dive blindly over the side of the ship. He sucked in a breath, landed in the water, and sank down, all the while hoping that Simber was on his way to finish the job.

  With his good arm, he pulled himself to the surface, and soon Spike was pushing him up and sliding him onto her back. When Alex broke the surface, he opened his eyes and twisted around to see Eagala cackling madly above him. It was all he could do to stare in horrified silence.

  And that’s when he heard it.

  And that’s when he saw it.

  The pirate ship was whispering. It began tugging against the anchor.

  Alex’s eyes widened. The ship was whispering. Alex knew the story behind that now—it only whispered when someone on board had died, and then it automatically headed home to the Island of Fire. To the volcano island that randomly spewed fire, then plunged under the surface of the ocean, dragging everything nearby it into its watery, cavernous mouth.

  “It says it wants to go home now,” said Spike, who could understand all languages, apparently even the language of ships.

  “I know!” said Alex. “Oh, Spike, this is perfect! Can you break the anchor chain?”

  “Yes, I can,” said Spike. She swam over to it, slid the point of her faux diamond–encrusted spike into a link, and began sawing back and forth. After a moment the chain snapped. The ship lurched and began heading in the direction of the pirate island.

  “There it goes,” said Alex, gripping his useless arm, almost mad with joy.

  On board, Queen Eagala’s laughter died in her throat. “What’s happening?” she cried out. “Where is this ship taking me? Who’s driving this thing?” She ran over to the ship’s wheel and tried to steer, but that didn’t affect its direction. The ship had a mission that it had to complete, and it wouldn’t change course for anything—Alex and all of Artimé knew that well enough.