Island of Shipwrecks (20 page)

A
t first, when Henry began following Ishibashi around, Crow tagged along, but he soon grew bored with the greenhouse, preferring to work on less delicate things like cutting wood and pounding nails. Henry, on the other hand, couldn't get enough of his time with the scientist. He longed to spend all of his time in the greenhouse with Ishibashi, learning about the healing nature of plants, and how to breed them to make new strains.

Before the Artiméans arrived, Ishibashi had been working on creating a new fruit and vegetable combination he called
sweet applecorn, which grew in oblong pods on a stalk with a tuft of bright red leaves at the top. Ishibashi took a knife and sliced off one of the pods, then peeled back the edible husk, revealing a red-and-yellow-checkerboard vegi-fruit inside. He chopped it up and put it into a bowl, added a little bit of fresh diced onion, a few drops of avocado oil, and a squeeze of lime juice, and presented it to Henry, who declared it his new favorite food.

Having no paper to write on, Henry could only take notes mentally and hope that he remembered everything he learned. Before bed he repeated recipes and formulas to himself so they would stick in his brain better.

One morning after the hour of calm was over and the Artiméans had brought the day's scavenged leftovers into the shelter, Henry dried off and made his way as usual to the greenhouse to find Ishibashi. The old scientist was there like always, puttering around the plantings. On the floor was a large container that Henry had never seen before. He dropped to his haunches next to it and peered in. It was filled with water and a slimy-looking substance that glowed fluorescent
blue. “Ishibashi-san,” said Henry, “what is this?”

“Seaweed,” said the old man, not looking up. He crouched on the ground, watering some plants very carefully. He counted out the drops of water under his breath. “Also known as breakfast, for some. But do not taste it.”

Henry crinkled up his nose. “I won't. Do you guys eat this?”

“Hai.”
Ishibashi moved to the next plant. “It grows only on the leeward side of the island, where your whale takes shelter in the cove. She is a beautiful creature. I spoke to her today as I was out collecting the seaweed.”

Henry sniffed. It smelled briny, but not terrible. “Do you like this stuff?”

“Not really. Ito and Sato eat it as a scientific experiment. But it can be dangerous.”

“What's the experiment?”

Ishibashi didn't answer for a moment, concentrating on his plants and silently counting drops. “Life,” he said solemnly, looking up.

Henry felt a shiver go down his spine. He could tell by the way Ishibashi spoke that this was a precious secret not to be
shared. And as much as he wanted to know everything, he dared not ask more.

But he couldn't forget it.

Every day thereafter, while Alex and the others worked on spell components, Henry made his way to the greenhouse. Ishibashi taught him about each plant: how to identify it, what its special properties were, and how it could be used to heal cuts and bruises or to ease pain. Henry recognized a few of the plants that were also native to Artimé.

He pointed them out. “I've seen these before.”

“They came from Marcus Today,” Ishibashi said. “He brought them in the tube.” The scientist turned to Henry. “I see Alex-san has given up on fixing it?”

“Yes,” Henry said. “He tried, but it's no use.”

Ishibashi nodded. “That was my fear. I'm sorry. This island isn't kind to anything or anyone.”

He handed Henry some cuttings of foreign plants. “These are for you to experiment with. See what magic you can do to make them even stronger. If you are working hard it will help to keep Mage Alex-san from giving you angry looks,” he said with a toothless grin.

Henry laughed. “Alex doesn't care that I'm here. He knows I'm learning things. I'm pretty much the best healer we have in Artimé,” he said with a bit of a swagger. “And now, thanks to you, I'll be even stronger.” His face clouded. “If we ever get back there, anyway.”

E
very now and then, Henry found himself looking at the seaweed, wondering what made it shine so bright. Wondering what Ishibashi meant when he said it was an experiment on life.

Henry thought he knew, though. Ishibashi was ninety-six years old, yet he was as spry as somebody a third of that age. And Ito was one hundred and ten! Henry didn't know anyone who had ever lived to be that old. Not even in the Ancients Sector. There was no reason in Quill to keep people living that long—they weren't useful. Yet . . . He looked at the three old scientists hard at work in different parts of the
greenhouse, creating new strains of plants and doing experiments with the material they had. They were extremely useful people, and they actually seemed like they enjoyed living here on this horrible stormy island. Just like the Unwanteds, they'd found the creative things they did best, and they'd gone to work doing them.

“Once we get our ship working again, do you and Ito-san and Sato-san want to come with us?” Henry asked. “Artimé is so beautiful and sunny, and it's filled with magic and a mansion and a jungle and tons of plants. And it hardly ever storms.” He hesitated, then added, “It wouldn't be any trouble. Everyone is welcome in Artimé.”

Ishibashi paused in his work, his face troubling over, but he didn't lift his gaze. After a moment he asked, his tone careful and measured, “Artimé is one of the islands, isn't it?”

Henry laughed. “Of course. What else would it be? That big block of land that doesn't exist?”

Ishibashi chuckled uneasily. “Big block of land? What do you mean?”

“I'll show you,” Henry said, hopping off his stool. “Be right back.”

Ishibashi looked over his shoulder, watching the boy go. He resumed working, but his face didn't lose the troubled expression.

Henry found Lani in the entry room of the shelter, spreading out a large pile of wet moss on the floor so it would dry more quickly.

“I need your map,” he said to his sister. “Just for a minute.”

Lani scowled. “Why?” She was tired of the storms, and nearly everything set her on edge.

“I just want to show it to Ishibashi-san. Come on.” He jiggled a bit, trying not to reveal his impatience. “Please.”

Lani rolled her eyes. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the map she'd nearly destroyed. “Here,” she said, handing it to him. “Be careful. It's starting to fall apart.”

“Thanks,” Henry said. He took it and dashed back to the greenhouse to Ishibashi's side.

Ishibashi narrowed his eyes as Henry carefully unfolded the paper, revealing the burned corners.

“It's a map. See? Artimé and Quill make up this one,” Henry said, pointing to the center island. “And this one over here,”
he said, pointing to the easternmost island, farthest from the fake mass of land, “is your island.”

“I see.” Ishibashi studied the map for a very long time. “And what about this land?” Ishibashi asked, pointing to the large piece. “Have you ever been here?”

“It doesn't exist,” Henry said. “We tried to get there, but the sea swallowed us and spun us around the bottom of the world, and we ended up here.”

Ishibashi stared at Henry. “What a horrible journey that must have been,” he said softly, and reached for the map. “May I have a closer look?”

Henry nodded and held out the map. Ishibashi took it and held it close to his face. It shook in the old scientist's hands. “Where did you get this, Henry-san?” he asked gently—so gently that it made Henry look up in surprise. There was pain in the old man's eyes.

“My sister—she found it in a book that washed ashore on Artimé after an air vessel fell out of the sky,” Henry said, puzzled. “Why are you sad? Don't you want to come to Artimé with us? It's a very happy place.”

Ishibashi sighed. Then he smiled ruefully, collecting his feelings and hiding them once more, and patted Henry on the shoulder. “Did all of your family grow up on your island? Your parents, too?”

“Yes,” said Henry.

“Your people—is it the same for them? All born on your island?”

“Except for Crow and Sky and Copper. They came from Warbler, this one here,” he said, pointing to the island on the map. He looked up, puzzled. “Which island did you come from, Ishibashi-san?”

The old man closed his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them, he said, “It has been so long that I do not remember.”

Henry thought that was ridiculous—how could anyone not remember which island he came from? But he knew it would be rude to say so. Instead he said, “I think you would like Artimé.”

Ishibashi handed the map back to Henry. “Life is very complicated,” he said with a little laugh. “Filled with dreams and adventures, and disasters and broken hearts, too.”

Henry tilted his head, puzzled. “I don't get it.”

The old scientist turned back to his work. “I am most grateful for your kind offer, Henry-san,” he said, “and so are Sato and Ito. But our home is here. Our work is here,” he said. “And our precious machines, our equipment, everything we dedicated our lives to is right out there, half-buried in the sea. We could never leave it behind.”

He hesitated, glancing at the map, and then looked away and dug his hands into the dirt around a plant. “This is our life, now. There is no one left to search for . . .” He trailed off and hunched over, focusing intently on the task before him.

Henry nodded sadly. “I understand,” he said, even though he didn't. He got the feeling that Ishibashi didn't want to talk about it anymore.

After a minute, standing there in a somewhat awkward silence, Henry folded up the map and said, “I'm glad you got your toolbox back, at least.” He pointed at the crate, which Florence had delivered to the shelter the day after they arrived. “That's good, right?”

But before the scientist could respond, they heard a
commotion in the shelter. Henry ran to the doorway and peered out to see what was happening.

Fox and Kitten came racing toward the greenhouse, Fox calling Henry's name. “Henry! Henry! Kitten has found a very dear important friend who is hurt! Do you have any medicine?”

Henry rushed toward them. “What? A friend? Hurt? What?” Ishibashi followed.

“Mewmewmew!” cried Kitten.

Fox's back end shook with excitement. “She says her very very good friend Sea Turtle has been struck savagely by a flying piece of driftwood—not me, of course—and now the sea turtle is dying!”

“Where?”

“Near the entrance to the shelter!”

Henry and Ishibashi ran through the stony rooms, past the group working on spells, dodging Samheed, who was testing out a very-slow-moving magic flying carpet, and out the doorway into the storm. Without hesitation, Ishibashi hoisted the sea turtle in his arms and staggered back inside.

“Back to the greenhouse,” Ishibashi said. “Let's hurry.”

Henry helped him carry the turtle to the greenhouse,
where they set it carefully on the floor on its back. Fox and Kitten crowded around. Ishibashi crouched next to the turtle and carefully checked it over. It seemed to be unconscious . . . or quite possibly dead.

“Henry-san,” Ishibashi said quietly, “fetch me a bit of the seaweed. Just a pinch.”

Henry jumped to his feet and rushed over to the tub where the glowing blue seaweed floated. He reached in carefully and pulled off a tiny bit, and raced back to Ishibashi.

“Slip the seaweed into the side of its mouth and massage it in the cheek,” Ishibashi instructed, holding the turtle's head. “Careful of the beak.”

Henry did as he was told.

Fox, Kitten, Henry, and Ishibashi all leaned forward, watching intently.

Nothing happened. The turtle lay still and lifeless as before. Then, with a small wheezing sound, its mouth opened, and then its eyes. Soon its flippers began to wave in the air.

Ishibashi rolled the turtle over, flippers down this time. It stood, then walked around slowly, unbothered by Fox and Kitten who raced around it, talking and mewing at top speed.

Henry couldn't believe it. The sea turtle was healed. “Wow,” he breathed. He looked at Ishibashi, thinking of all the people and creatures he could heal with one little clump of that seaweed.

“Hai,”
whispered Ishibashi. “We have a little magic of our own. The problem is that we do not know the long-term effects of even a small amount. Will the sea turtle now be invincible from death? Will he live forever? Or could he die tomorrow of some other ailment or injury? We don't know.”

Henry looked at the man, wide-eyed. “Is that why you are so old, Ishibashi-san?”

The man smiled, amused. “Yes, Henry-san. That is the reason.” He watched the turtle walk out of the room, Fox and Kitten on its heels, and continued. “Once we discovered the seaweed's power, we three scientists began experimenting. Ito-san, the oldest, eats a small bit every day. Sato-san only takes a bite when injured or ill. And I ate one bite thirty-three years ago, and nothing since.” He gave Henry a solemn look. “Clearly we are all doing well for our ages as a result. But now we worry—what if we will never die?”