Island of Dragons (21 page)

Inside the Island of Dragons, the young orange female managed to flap her wings hard enough to soar up and out of the cylinder. She circled around it in the darkness and soared this way and that in pure delight. Moments later a second female followed, and then three more dragons appeared above the lip of the island and spread their wings wide, joyously riding the night breeze.

On the coast of Warbler, the Island of Silence, the lone voice of a hook-handed pirate captain rang out from aboard a ship. “Anchors aweigh!” he shouted. Twenty-four anchors rose up from the water, and slowly but surely twenty-four ships loaded with two island's worth of people moved eastward over the glimmering sea.

S
imber woke Alex early.

“They'rrre coming,” he said.

Alex opened his eyes and blinked at the ceiling, lost for a moment in a dream, and then he remembered. He sprang out of bed. “Already? How much time?” he asked.

“A few hourrrs,” said Simber.

“And how many ships?”

Simber hesitated. “I counted twenty-fourrr.”

Alex felt the blood leave his head, and he sat down on the edge of his bed. In an instant, the situation became alarmingly real, horribly immediate. Everything that had transpired between him and Aaron got pushed aside. It was all he could do to keep from hiding under the bed. “Twenty-four ships?” he whispered. He looked at Simber, aghast. “Twenty-four? We haven't got a chance against that.”

Simber lifted his chin defiantly. “You may be rrright, but if I hearrr you speak like that in frrront of anyone else on this island, I may just kill you myself.”

Alex sucked in a breath and then lifted a hand to his eyes. His thoughts were scrambled, and his heart sank deep into despair. There was no possible way Artimé could fend off twenty-four ships filled with pirates and Warblerans. He didn't have a plan in place yet. He barely had a handful of decent strategies worked out since he'd gotten the news. What was Artimé to do? What
could
they do against so many? They'd all die! Obliteration seemed like an understatement.

“Is Florence back yet?” Alex asked weakly through his fingers.

“Not yet.”

“Of course not . . . it's too soon. Where's Claire?”

“I was planning to wake herrr next.”

Alex dropped his hands, feeling overwhelmed and helpless. “Yes, do that. And if you could assemble my team . . . or wait. I'll have Clive do that.” He shook his head. “I don't even know what I'm saying. I think I'm going to be sick. This is it for us, isn't it, Simber? The end?”

Simber gave Alex a stern look. “Alex, you'rrre the head mage, and we'rrre about to be attacked. You've handled it beforrre. Pull yourrrself togetherrr. Now.”

“But . . .” Alex faltered. “Twenty-four ships . . .”

“Stop!” Simber growled under his breath, and then said, “You have battled and conquerrred two evil high prrriests and theirrr Quillitarrries, and you've defeated Warrrblerrr twice, once on theirrr island and once herrre. You've surrrvived a deadly hurrricane and a disastrrrous waterrrfall rrride arrround the worrrld, and you've fought off an enorrrmous eel and dozens of saberrr-toothed gorrrillas. You've brrrought Arrrtimé back frrrom the dead, rrrescued people in need, and set an ocean of sea crrreatures frrree. You took in people who didn't deserrrve forrrgiveness, and you accepted rrresponsibility forrr yourrr sisterrrs. The people of Arrrtimé and Quill believe in you. They trrrust you. You must not let them down.”

The stone cheetah statue paused to make sure Alex was listening. “If you think you will fail now, afterrr all you have accomplished in your shorrrt life, then you arrre not the mage I thought you werrre.”

Alex stared at the floor. It was true. He wasn't the mage Simber thought he was.

After a long moment, Simber turned and walked out the door, pausing just outside it. “I'll summon yourrr team to the lawn, and we'll meet you therrre in fifteen minutes. That should be plenty of time forrr you to rrrememberrr who you arrre and what you fight forrr, Alexanderrr Stowe. You arrre the head mage of the most powerrrful society in ourrr worrrld. And even when all appearrrs lost,” said Simber, “you must fight with everrrything you have inside you, all the way until the bitterrr end.”

With that, Simber loped down the hallway, shaking the mansion with every step.

Alex closed his eyes and sucked in a breath, letting it out slowly. And while he knew that Simber was right—mostly, anyway—Alex didn't know if he had it inside him to take on yet another battle. Especially one that appeared impossible to win. So many lives were at stake. Would this be the demise of Artimé? Was this how Alex's life would finally end—in a fight with some of the same enemies he'd been fighting all along? How could Alex ask his people to fight one more time after all they had been through, when death appeared certain? This was more than just Alex's life on the line. This was an entire island's worth of people in danger. How could Alex possibly lead them into that?

“Perhaps we must surrender in order to survive,” Alex whispered, hating himself for saying the words, but saying them nonetheless.

“Surrender?” shouted Clive, pushing his face out of Alex's blackboard. “You can't surrender. There is no such word in my vocabulary, so I'm afraid I can't share that kind of news.”

Alex glanced up, but he didn't have the energy to deal with Clive right now. He shook his head sadly and looked away. “Go away,” he said.

Clive's lips parted in hurt and surprise. He blinked and then he disappeared. But soon words appeared on the blackboard in place of his face.

Attention people of Artimé. We are under attack. A fleet of ships is heading our way from Warbler and the Island of Fire. It is with great humility that I ask you one last time for your help in defending our world. As always, your refusal will be met with acceptance and respect, for that has always been the way of Artimé. Even if I find myself standing alone on our lawn two hours hence, I will fight to the end for you.

Thank you for your many sacrifices,

Alexander Stowe

Head Mage of Artimé

Alex stood up and got dressed, ignoring the blackboard.

“Well?” said Clive, poking his nose and mouth out of the corner. “How does that sound? I was thinking of highlighting the border with yellow and green.”

“I don't care what you do,” Alex said. He went into his bathroom and splashed water on his face, then stared down at the sink, not really seeing it.

Clive smiled and disappeared, and soon the words had a flashing neon border surrounding them. A moment later they disappeared and Clive's face returned.

Alex came out of the bathroom, towel in hand and drying his face. When he was finished, he threw the towel at the blackboard. It landed, draped over the edge, partially covering Clive's face. Clive raised an eyebrow.

Alex loaded his component vest and filled his robe pockets with more components, not even sure if he'd use them. Perhaps he'd just give himself up—maybe the enemy would take him in exchange for leaving the rest of Artimé alone. At least Artimé would be safe with Aaron in charge.

He looked around his room one last time, making sure he had everything he needed, and then he went toward the door.

“Don't die,” Clive said from behind the towel, so it came out slightly muffled. He bit at the towel and managed to pull it down and drop it on the floor.

Alex thought about that for a long moment. “Thanks, Clive,” he said quietly, and went out, closing the door behind him.

W
hile Aaron got ready and tried to tame his thoughts, Alex blew out a breath, set his shoulders, and made his way downstairs. He went out the front door and found Simber on the lawn, staring to the west. Alex stood next to him and looked too. He could barely make out a few bumps on the water.

“I hope Florrrence and the otherrrs can get herrre safely without being attacked,” Simber said. “I'm afrrraid they might be caught behind the ships.”

Alex's mind didn't have room for more things to worry about. “Sim,” he said, “I'm thinking about surrendering. I don't want our people to have to fight again. That's all we've done since I came to Artimé, and things look especially bleak this time—you have to agree with me. If I give myself up, maybe the pirates and Warblerans will be satisfied with that.”

A low growl came from deep within Simber and it turned into a roar.

Alex cringed and backed up. A few people came running out of the mansion to see what was happening, but Simber glared at them until they backed away and left.

“If you surrrenderrr,” growled Simber with true anger in his voice, “who will lead this island when these enemies decide you werrren't enough to placate them afterrr all, and they come back again?”

Alex frowned. “I'm certain you'll be fine,” he hedged.

“Well I'm cerrrtain we won't.” Simber glanced at the team members coming toward them for their meeting and hissed to Alex, “No morrre of that talk. You must find yourrr confidence immediately, and defeat these enemies. Don't you see? Once they arrre overrrcome, no enemies rrremain. This is the final battle, Alex . . . but only if you fight it.”

Alex didn't respond, and soon his team leaders ventured toward them. Alex turned to greet Aaron and Claire, the first to reach him. Aaron caught Alex's eye and patted the slight bulge in his vest. Alex nodded solemnly.

Soon Sean and Carina arrived with Ms. Octavia, and Sky came with Kaylee. Both of them appeared relieved to see Aaron back with them. The three stood together, Aaron a bit stiff around the shoulders, but on the surface he seemed pleased to see them as well, despite the circumstances.

Samheed and Lani came next, and then Mr. Appleblossom and Liam Healy arrived, talking earnestly together.

Alex glanced at Simber. “Is this everyone?”

Simber nodded. “Gunnarrr Haluki has been summoned and is on his way frrrom Quill as well.”

“Th-that's correct,” said Liam. “My, ah, my blackboard talked to his in Quill, and he got the message from Clive. He's coming.”

Alex began to wonder what message Clive had sent out—perhaps he should have read it. He held up a hand to quiet the group, and they came to attention. “We have no time to waste,” said Alex. “And while I'm devastated by this news and have tried to come up with a way to keep this attack from happening, Simber has convinced me that our only option is to fight and defeat these enemies once and for all. So . . . anyone who wishes to join us in fighting should gather on the lawn within two hours. Does that sound about right?” He glanced at the tiny blobs on the water as if trying to determine their time of arrival.

“That's what Clive said,” Liam told him.

“Oh,” said Alex. “Well, then, let's go with that. I'd like each of you to lead a team as usual. Hopefully Florence, Spike, and Henry will be back soon to help us.”

Mr. Appleblossom raised a hand.

“Yes, Mr. Appleblossom?” Alex studied the man. He looked a bit weary in the weak morning light.

Mr. Appleblossom offered a pained smile and cleared his throat. “If not these enemies at sea exist, our happy land would be at peace this day. But I should say to all who gather here that happy lands are such with strife to pay. 'Tis not till after hardship's won, we play.” He looked around wisely, the eldest among them, and added, “I see the end of this, though some may not. But enemies are fully known this time. There are no others hiding round the bend. What's won is won for good, though rough the climb.”

Alex nodded and glanced at Samheed, whose eyes held great respect for the theater teacher. “Quite right,” Samheed murmured.

“Thank you, Mr. Appleblossom,” said Alex. “Your words bring a very special comfort and they ring true with Simber's. I'm very glad you see the end to this, because I admit that for me, it's hard to look past this moment. We are all tired, it's true. And sometimes this cycle of fighting feels endless. So thank you. We take your words to heart.”