Island of Dragons (Unwanteds #7)

Alex left the hospital ward, said good night to Simber who’d returned from his night flight, and wearily climbed the stairs to the balcony. He went down the not secret hallway toward his room, but paused first at the door to the Museum of Large and went inside. He made his way past the library and the empty spaces where the ship and the whale skeleton had been, and went into the gray shack, which stored itself here when it wasn’t in use. Alex wandered through the little house, remembering the terrible time Artimé had had here after Mr. Today’s death.

“I’m so glad our island doesn’t have to worry about that now,” he murmured. The realization that he was no longer head mage washed over him. It was hard to grasp. But he was convinced it was the right decision. Aaron’s immortality was the main reason, of course, but the more Alex thought about it, the more sure he was that he’d appointed the right person in the event of his demise. Aaron knew how to lead. And he was so naturally talented with magic. There seemed to be no limit to what he could do. Now that Aaron had changed his ways, he would be perfect for Artimé if something happened to Alex. And he looked identical, so it would be an easy transition for all.

Of course, if Alex didn’t die, all would go back to normal. And Aaron would go back to the Island of Shipwrecks to live his life . . . forever. And never die. The concept was unfathomable, especially now with so much else on Alex’s mind.

In the kitchen of the little shack, Alex sought out the mini mansion, which was in its rightful spot in the cupboard, and then found the extra robe that he kept inside the shack. He very nearly took it since he had Aaron now, but then decided to leave it as a precaution. After all, Ishibashi had said no one really knew for sure if they were immortal because they couldn’t test it. So just in case, Alex left the robe. Everything was in place.

Satisfied that everything was in order, Alex left the gray shack, walked past all the collected bits of airplanes and ships, and stopped next to Ol’ Tater to pat the frozen mastodon statue on the tusk. After a moment, Alex headed back out of the museum and across the hall to his living quarters. It was a quiet night, and Alex couldn’t help but wonder how many more nights like this he’d see.

He climbed into bed and began mentally preparing to somehow organize the people of Quill in the morning, and soon he drifted off to sleep.

? ? ? ?

Meanwhile on the Island of Shipwrecks, three lonely scientists lay awake in the dark and silent night, worrying as they often did about their friends in Artimé. Ishibashi wondered if he would ever find out what happened with the pirate attack. Perhaps he should have gone with the boys to help, though he didn’t know what good a man his age might be. He reached under his pillow and grasped the tiny object he kept hidden there, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, and made a wish on it. Then he closed his eyes and drifted into a restless sleep.

At the very same time on the Island of Legends, a giant, shimmering water dragon delivered somber news under the light of the moon, causing a frenzy of activity. Florence’s body clanked against Talon’s in a hasty embrace, and she climbed onto Pan’s back and set off, while Henry ran to the island’s mouth and met Spike there to have a final assessment and chat with Karkinos.

On the Island of Graves, seventy saber-toothed gorillas slept in silence under an empty tree, perhaps missing the mournful song of their pet American, Kaylee. And on the Island of Fire, only a few inhabitants too old or too young to fight remained, strapping themselves in and out of their drop-down seats as they robotically rode out the random plunging and resurfacing of their volcanic home.

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.





When Doubt and Fear Creep In


Simber 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.”

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