Island of Dragons (8 page)

“And now maybe she'll never find her child,” Sky said sadly.

They were silent and thoughtful for a long while as they contemplated the origins of everyone they'd met in their tiny, seven-island world.

Lani's interest returned to the map. “What's the name of your . . . of the place you came from?”

Kaylee found the spot for her. “My family is here in a city called Manchester-by-the-Sea. It's part of the state of Massachusetts.” She glanced at Lani, who seemed enormously interested. She added, “But my ancestors are actually English—from here, across the Atlantic Ocean.” She pointed to a piece of land to the right.

“I wonder where my ancestors lived,” said Lani. “Do you think they were English too?”

Kaylee studied Lani. “Well, if I had to guess, I'd say you've got some Asian roots, or maybe Polynesian or Hawaiian. . . .” She shrugged, but then searched for and pointed out the locations she was mentioning.

Lani turned to look at Kaylee, incredulous. “How in the world would you know that?”

“Because of the way you look, I guess,” said Kaylee, almost apologetically.

“No way. Seriously?” asked Lani.

Kaylee nodded.

This was a foreign concept to all the Artiméans.

“That is so cool!” said Lani. She brushed her fingers over the Hawaiian Islands, and then did the same to the tiny Polynesian islands below.

“So,” interjected Alex, “people look different depending on where their ancestors came from?”

“Yeah, I guess,” said Kaylee. She was shocked that there were intelligent humans who didn't understand this. But it was true that the people of Artimé didn't have a specific look about them—they had a variety of skin tones and hair and eye colors. Which made sense when she thought about how their ancestors must have come from all over the world.

“Where do you think my ancestors are from?” asked Alex, leaning over the map.

Kaylee frowned. “I'm not sure about you. You're sort of ambiguous. Maybe southern Europe, like Italy.” She pointed out the area on the map. “But your sisters have different skin and eye color than you and Aaron.”

“They look like our mother,” said Alex.

Kaylee had never seen Alex's mother. “They definitely look more distinct with those black eyes, but I don't know—I'm not actually an expert on this or anything.” She chuckled nervously, feeling weird about declaring people's heritages without having any information about them.

“Yes, but what do you
think
?” asked Alex. “It's not like we'll be mad at you if you're wrong. We're just curious.”

“Well,” said Kaylee, giving in, “maybe your mother's ancestors are from Tahiti or somewhere tropical. Or northern Africa, like Morocco.” Kaylee soon realized Alex was right, and they'd probably never know the truth, so she began to take the whole topic a bit less seriously and started to have fun with her predictions. “I'd guess that Sean Ranger has Irish roots, and Carina looks Eastern European—maybe Russian. And Samheed has a pretty clear Middle Eastern look.”

“What about my ancestors?” asked Sky.

“Mexico or South America,” Kaylee guessed. She pointed the places out. “You know, there's a good chance all of you have ancestors from a bunch of different countries.” She paused thoughtfully. “Most people in America are like that too, actually. People from a lot of different countries moved to America in the past few hundred years, so there are a lot of Americans today with combined heritages.”

The friends began to imagine a similar scenario in their world—people from the seven islands meeting others on different islands and falling in love, and somehow they ended up in a silly conversation about what Florence and Talon's children might look like if they ever had any.

When the fun died down, Alex was quiet for a minute, and then he frowned and turned toward Kaylee. “You said no one ever returns to your world from the triangles. But your world is so huge—how would you know if one returned or not?”

“Oh,” Kaylee said, “it would be all over the news channels and the Internet in about ten seconds. Nobody would be able to keep a secret like that for long.”

“The Inter-what?” asked Alex.

Kaylee sighed, looking suddenly weary. “Nothing. Never mind. Nobody's ever returned—you'll just have to take my word for it.”

Lani bit her lip. “So,” she said softly, “now that we know where we are, and we know there's no way back to your world, what can we do to help you?”

Kaylee blinked hard and tried to appear brave. “I think you keep doing what you've been doing all along. We make the best world we can, wherever we are. Because the next person to end up here will definitely be just as sad as I am right now.” She looked at the others. “But at least there's a chance they can be sad with friends.”

W
hen Aaron returned through the tube after many hours spent in the jungle playing stay and attack with Panther, the kitchenette and hallway were dark. He stayed in the tube for a moment, looking at the buttons in the dim light from the window. Would the button to Haluki's house work now that the tube had been destroyed in the fire? What would happen if he tested it?

He was tempted to try them all out individually. Indeed if he had been feeling reckless, he might have. But now he had creatures and people counting on him. What if he pushed the button that led to the broken tube on Ishibashi's island and he got stuck somewhere in the invisible in-between? There weren't many things more frightening to Aaron than disappearing into thin air, never to be seen again.

He stepped out, thinking of his scientist friends. He was growing more and more anxious to go back. It seemed like a perfect time to leave now that the Quillens were settled in their little housing rows.

Aaron's footsteps echoed down the wide hallway. Seeing light streaming from under the door that led to Alex's living quarters, Aaron stopped and knocked.

“Come in,” Alex called.

Aaron opened the door and stepped inside. “Hi,” Aaron said. “Am I disturbing you?”

Alex looked up from the small desk, where books lay scattered about. On the floor were three or four tottering piles of them. “No, come in. Have a seat.” Alex shoved the hair off his forehead and pushed his chair back. He wore the slightly dazed look of someone who had just returned to real life after having been lost in another world for hours.

Aaron's expression was similar. He sat on the bed. “Sorry about earlier.”

“It's okay,” said Alex. “It's actually really great that you're so naturally magical. I mean, I know I'd be dead if it weren't for you. You saved me. And Artimé. I shouldn't have gotten so defensive about it.”

“Everybody fought hard,” Aaron said, shrugging off the compliment. “I just got lucky.”

“It's more than luck,” Alex said. “I guess I'm a bit jealous that it comes so easily to you.”

“It doesn't, actually, but whatever,” said Aaron lightly. He changed the subject. “How's everything in the new Quill? Or are we calling everything Artimé now?”

“We'll keep it Quill, I think,” said Alex. “It's confusing otherwise, isn't it?”

Aaron nodded. “Too confusing. Besides, the Quillens won't call it Artimé, so why fight them on it?”

“Good point. It's settled, then.” Alex folded his hands in his lap and tipped his chair back to balance on two legs. “What other crises can we solve today?”

Aaron glanced around the room, catching his reflection in the large mirror on Alex's wall. Mirrors still startled Aaron at times, even in his own room, so he'd covered his up with paper. Now, though, he looked at his reflection and touched the scruff on his chin absently, studying it. There were some scratchy bits among the soft fuzz now, and he could see that the scratchy bits were as black as his sisters' eyes. “We look like our father,” he said.

“Unfortunately,” Alex said with a wry grin, but the humor was lost on Aaron.

Aaron turned abruptly. “I was wondering . . . The reason I've come . . . Well, um,
first
, is everything going as it should?”

“How do you mean?” asked Alex.

“With Quill. Have I fulfilled my end of the agreement?”

Alex let his chair rest on all four legs. He leaned forward. “Yes,” he said. “Of course you have. More than.”

Aaron studied his brother, and found it suddenly difficult to speak. “If it's all right with you, then, I'd like to go back to the Island of Shipwrecks,” he said.

Alex's mouth twitched. He let out a sigh. “Oh,” he said. “Well, sure.” He stood abruptly and swung around to stand behind the chair, putting his hands on the back of it and leaning forward. “That is, if you really want to. You . . . you don't have to. You know that, right? I—we like having you here. Most of us, anyway.”

Aaron dropped his gaze. “I know. I'd like to go, though. Ishibashi must be worried about me by now—it's been months. So if we could leave as soon as it's convenient for you to take me there, well, that would be good.”

Alex was quiet. “Sure,” he said. After a minute he nodded. “We can leave once we hear back from Pan to make sure Henry made it to the Island of Legends all right. Does that sound okay?”

Aaron gave a sharp nod. He stood up. “Thanks,” he said. “It's been . . . nice. I mean, well, you know. Good spending time with you, anyway. And . . . and the girls.” He cleared his throat. “But yes, it's time I go.” He took a step toward the door.

“Okay,” Alex said, his voice strangely hollow.

At the door, Aaron hesitated. He desperately wanted to tell Alex about the jungle, but at the same time he desperately wanted to wait until the last possible minute so that he would be long gone by the time Alex made his first visit there. Yes, it was cowardly leaving Alex to explain to Panther and the rock that the person they thought was Mr. Today's successor was really a fraud. But Aaron couldn't bear to do it. The more time he spent with his jungle friends, the more Aaron knew he could never tell them the truth.

“Is something wrong?” Alex asked.

Aaron closed his eyes briefly, pained. Then he met Alex's gaze once more and shook his head. “No, nothing. Good night, brother.” He left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

“Good night, friend,” Alex said softly, and stared at the door, feeling empty. After a moment he sat down at the desk, turned back to his open book and closed it, and put out the light.

T
he hours of the night passed smoothly. Before the sun rose, Spike could sense Karkinos's nearness in the waters. She adjusted her direction. “Karkinos is moving quickly toward the danger of the waterfall,” said Spike in a worried voice. “He is far from where he is supposed to be.”

“He is a long distance from where I saw him last,” said Pan, lifting her head high in the air and straining her eyes. “We must move swiftly!”

Spike lowered her head and put all she had into increasing her speed. Pan stayed with her. Florence hung on and leaned forward in anticipation while Henry slept. Florence would wake him when it was time.

It wasn't long before they came upon the giant squid, which normally lived under the crab's protection, out in the open sea. He was agitated. Spike slowed for a moment to speak with the sea creature, and the animated conversation roused Henry. As soon as Spike finished talking, she sped up once more. The squid followed as quickly as he could, but fell behind.

“The crab no longer has strength to fight the current,” Spike informed the others. “He is moving faster toward the waterfall. He is still alive, according to the squid.”

Henry sat up and gripped the tin through the fabric of his vest. “We have to make it,” he said. “We
have
to. Do they know what they are in for?”