Island of Shipwrecks (37 page)

“A few more days won't hurt,” Florence said. “I'll take them back to the hospital ward for now so you can get back to your search. They've set up a nursery in the corner for them, though they like to escape and visit Simber and me.” She grinned. “But you can stop by and visit them now and then, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess.” It would take some getting used to. But they seemed like nice enough children when they weren't crying. And they
were
his sisters. “I'll come by,” he promised. When Florence swept them up, they waved over her shoulders, and Alex found himself waving back.

Sky and Alex finished their breakfasts, feeling ready to hit the library again. But just as they were leaving the kitchen, Lani came pounding down the stairs and flying around the banister carrying a small book high over her head.

“I found it!” she cried, leaping into the air. “
Element-ary: A Guide to Elemental Magi
c
!”

W
hen Ishibashi exited his shelter during the hour of calm, he carried a few of his newly recovered tools to the precious ship that Alex-san had so thoughtfully transported to the island. Now
the three scientists could explore it once again after so many years.

Having such access to the ship fulfilled the scientists' greatest wish, and as far as Ishibashi knew, he'd never expressed that wish to Alex—the young leader had figured it out on his own, which made the gesture even more thoughtful.

And likely, with the long future that seemed to be ahead of the three scientists, it would give them something to fill in the endless hours. Now more than ever Ishibashi wished for a few more hours of calm each day, since the machinery on board the ship was too heavy for the three old men to dismantle and move into the shelter. They had precious little time each day to explore and marvel over the equipment they had thought they'd never see again.

On this day, Ishibashi did as he always did. He shuffled to the ship as quickly as possible, with Sato and Ito right behind, and he climbed the iron ladder up the side. Because the ship's bottom wasn't flat, everything tilted to one side, but Ishibashi didn't mind. He was old, but he was nimble, and after the first couple of days, he found footholds and handholds all around to allow him to look at everything.

As Ishibashi disappeared inside the hold, Sato and Ito climbed the ladder. Sato was the slowest and weakest, so he stopped at the top and looked around the island while catching his breath.

On the barren beach, a new shipwreck caught his eye. It appeared to be part of a fishing boat, but the storm had ripped it to shreds. Sato put a hand above his eyes to shield the weak
sunlight that managed to come through the clouds. His eyesight wasn't very good anymore. He saw what looked like a sack of goods farther down the shoreline. They would have to pick it up before the storm took it again—perhaps there was something exciting in it from the other world. Sato didn't see any people, but he didn't expect to. Most shipwrecks lost their passengers well before they reached the shore.

Carefully he climbed into the ship, and for the next while the old men examined the contents and tinkered with the machines, trying to dry out their waterlogged guts to see if they would work again. If only they had more time! If only the storm wouldn't drench everything again, day after day!

Instinctively, when the sky darkened and the wind picked up, the three reluctantly climbed back out of the ship and made their way carefully down the ladder to the ground. Sato told the others about the new shipwreck, and all three went to look it over before going back to the shelter.

“Another fishing boat,” Ishibashi said to the others in their language. He picked up a jagged plank and tossed it aside, then pushed on the chunk of the hull that sat on the rocky ground to see how heavy it was—it might make a good container for
plants. But it was too bulky to carry with so little time left today. If the storm didn't devour it, he would go back for it tomorrow.

Sato walked farther down the shoreline to the sack of goods. But when he reached it, he gave a shout. He knelt next to it and turned it over as the other two scientists hurried toward him. It was a young man, all curled up, covered in a paste of wet sand. The waves licked at him.

When the others reached him, Sato looked up, his expression deeply troubled. He spoke rapidly to the others.

Ishibashi reached down to feel the boy's pulse. He shook his head. The young man was cold and unresponsive. He was most certainly dead.

Sato spoke more firmly, and began dragging the boy toward the shelter. Ito and Ishibashi helped, moving as fast as their old legs could go, with Ishibashi and Sato arguing the whole way. Ishibashi did not want to take the body of this dead stranger into their living quarters. But Sato won out.

As thunder rumbled and a sudden blanket of rain poured down on them, the scientists maneuvered themselves into the shelter and pulled the body inside the main room. Sato took
one look at the victim and gasped. The rain had washed the caked sand from the young man's face. And while bruises were evident, the young man was clearly recognizable.

“Alex-san!” Ishibashi cried. “No!” Wildly Ishibashi, Sato, and Ito scrambled to resuscitate their dear friend who had been so kind to them. How did he end up here? Had the enormous flying cheetah dropped him on the rocks to die?

Sato and Ito pounded on the young man's chest, and as Ishibashi watched in horror, he grew more desperate the longer their friend did not respond. He gripped his hat and wrenched his clothes and begged for life to return to the leader of Artimé, but nothing was working.

Finally Sato shouted to Ishibashi in a voice that sounded like a command. Ishibashi cringed. He nodded, and with a heart full of anguish, he ran to the greenhouse, ripped open the container of glowing blue seaweed, and took the tiniest pinch. He raced back to the others and knelt down.

Ishibashi looked at the glowing seaweed between his finger and thumb. He closed his eyes, his heart ripping apart. What he was about to do went against everything he believed. Everything. Yet . . .

“Please forgive me, Alex-san,” Ishibashi whispered. With that, he plunged the seaweed into Aaron's mouth, massaging it between his cheek and gums for several seconds. When there was nothing left to do, he slowly backed away. Sato and Ito stopped their reviving techniques and sat back too, their worried eyes darting from the young man's face to his chest, searching for any sign of life.

T
hree islands away, Alex joined Lani on the ice-covered lawn. And as she chanted the words from a thin spell book that would remove Gondoleery's grip on the island, the sharp pain in Alex's side snapped and disappeared, and the broken half of Alex's soul that had hovered outside him for days took flight. Alex clapped a hand to his ribs and gasped. In an instant, as the rest of the islanders watched a different show orchestrated by Lani, Alex could only see the one that was happening inside himself.

“He's alive,” he whispered, clutching his side while the world changed beneath his feet.

The ice disappeared, and the grass and flowers sprouted up once more. The pirate ship and Claire's speedboat were set free from the frozen stretch of sea, and in the distance, Alex could see the flash of a faux diamond–studded spike slicing the air, followed by Spike Furious herself, jumping and splashing in shallow water again.

“Yes!” Lani cried, turning to him. “We did it, Al!” She hugged Alex as the people of Artimé cheered and ran to the lawn to celebrate. “Artimé is alive again!”

But Alex hardly noticed what was going on around him. Strange thoughts appeared in his head and churned through his mind.
He's alive.
He stumbled away from Lani's grasp, a dazed look on his face. Lani watched him quizzically as he stripped off his robe and thrust it at her.

“Here,” he said in an odd voice. “I . . . I need you to take care of things. My sisters, and Artimé, and everything. Just for a while. Something's happened, you see, and I . . .” He searched the crowd, looking for someone, and finally he found her. “I've got to . . .”

Lani grabbed his shirt, forcing his attention back to her. “Alex, what in the world are you doing?”

Finally he looked into Lani's eyes. “I've got to go,” he said simply.

And before his stunned friend could reply, Alex ran to Sky's side, took her hand, and spoke earnestly into her ear. Her eyes grew wide. And then she nodded. Alex kissed her cheek and darted off alone, almost completely unnoticed by the rejoicing Artiméans. He veered off the lawn to the shore, and continued toward the lagoon. And once he arrived at the spot where platyprots often perched, he splashed through the water, dove, then surfaced and climbed into the gleaming white boat named
Claire
.

He stood at the controls, and at his command, the magical boat roared to life. Alex swung it around, pointed it to the east, and without a single look back at the land and people he loved, he set out, full speed ahead, in search of the broken half of his soul.

Many thanks to all of you Unwanteds out there who are reading this series and telling your friends about it. I'm so grateful!

Thanks as always to my family: my husband Matt, who puts up with my moments of panic so others don't have to; my son, Kilian, who makes me look cool at schools because his character drawings are such a hit with students; and my daughter, Kennedy, who keeps me organized because of her great help behind the scenes. Thanks to my extended family as well for your constant support—parents, brothers, sisters, nieces, and nephews.

You all rock!

This book would not be possible without the hard work of the entire Aladdin team. Saying thank you hardly scratches the surface of my gratitude. Special thanks to my amazing editor, Liesa Abrams, whose passion for kids' books is limitless; to publisher Mara Anastas, whose energy knows no bounds; and to Karin Paprocki and Owen Richardson, whose stunning
artwork and designs never cease to delight all who lay eyes upon them.

This is my fourteenth published book, and every time I pen the acknowledgments I find myself profusely thanking my agent, Michael Bourret. I am running out of ways to express myself, therefore I will simply say that I am so very grateful for you and for the person you are, and my adoration only grows.

I hope you enjoy this fifth installment in the Unwanteds series!