But he reached underneath his arm and revealed what he had been carrying the entire time. The treasure chest.
Without hesitating Uma flipped open its wooden lid. There was an old yellowed envelope inside. Uma pulled it out.
“‘Ursula,’” she read, examining the spiky handwriting on the envelope.
Then she shook out the contents onto her palm. There it was, her mother’s seashell necklace, except it was in a hundred tiny little pieces. “I forgot it was broken.”
“Nothing a little island sludge can’t put back together,” said Harry. “Come on. We’ve got a bucket of the stuff back on the ship. It’s stronger than glue; it’ll work.”
Fitting each of the pieces of the broken seashell together was like trying to put together a puzzle without any reference as to what it should look like. They knew it was a shell, but they had no idea where this ridge or that one should fit. It took patience and attention to detail, and they’d just fought a band of skeletons, dodged arrows, and escaped a disintegrating cave. No one was in the mood for a bit of jewelry repair. But there was no time to waste, so they set themselves about the task—clearing a great table and making certain it was clean before Uma placed the envelope’s contents upon it.
“How do we know we even have all the pieces to this thing?” said Uma, frustrated.
“We don’t,” agreed Harry. “But if we give up now, we’ll never find out.”
“Shush,” said Gil, who was placing each piece back together with a delicacy the others hadn’t known he was capable of. They had to trace the edges of each piece, looking for ridges and bumps that matched another piece or a streak of color that ran from one fragment to the next. It was subtle work, almost impossible. Harry threw up his hands more than once, and Uma twice had to take a walk out on the deck to let loose a bit of frustration. They all took turns at the task, but it was Gil, oddly enough, who stuck with it, supervising the whole thing. The work was painstaking, until Gil finally made an announcement. “Okay,” he said, “we’re missing one piece.”
“Honestly?” muttered Uma.
“It might have fallen under the table,” said Harry. “Everyone look!” He stood and knelt on the floor to see if he could find a tiny gold piece. Gil, Uma, and the rest of the crew did the same. They looked everywhere and even sent some of the crew back to the beach to see if one of the pieces had fallen out when Uma first opened the envelope. They found nothing.
Perhaps it was lost in the sea, thought Uma.
She recalled her mother telling her about that final battle. How Ursula had called the great waves, urging them to skyscraper-like heights, and how she had blown up to a thousand times her size—a large, laughing octopus, larger than the ship, loud as thunder. How she had cursed them all, wreaking havoc on Prince Eric’s ship, and aiming to drown all aboard.
Except Prince Eric had taken the wheel and rammed his ship right into her heart, right into her necklace, scattering its pieces all over the ocean. Uma always held her breath at that part of the story, wondering how it was that her mother had survived such a battle. Because even though she’d lost, she’d survived. Prince Eric hadn’t destroyed her completely.
And here was the necklace.
Here was hope.
A way out of this island prison.
A way out of stagnation and broken dreams, endless routine, and a future that went nowhere.
Harry was shaking his head. He slammed his fist against the nearest table, sending the plates and cups jumping. “It’s not here.”
He’d given up, and Uma felt the same pain run through her. It just wasn’t fair, to come this close only to be missing one miniscule little piece.
Uma took the seashell in hand and looked at it carefully. “Maybe we don’t need the missing piece,” she said. It was a chip barely larger than a hairline crack. That was all.
“I don’t know,” said Harry. “It looks incomplete.”
“What about your locket?” asked Gil. “Didn’t you say there was something in there?”
Uma gasped. She’d almost forgotten about the locket she always wore. What had her mother said when she’d given it to her? It’s all I have left. All Ursula had left of what? They were about to find out. Uma swung the chain over her head and held it out so everyone could see it. Then she carefully pried open the top with her fingernail. It flipped up with a snap, revealing a sliver of gold.
“That’s it!” said Harry.
“I think it just might be the last piece,” said Uma. It looked to be the right shape, but she wouldn’t be sure until they’d fit it into place. Her heart skipped a beat as she lowered it into the opening.
It fit perfectly. “Gil, sludge me.”
Gil handed her the bucket of sludge, and they all watched, holding their breath, as Uma glued the final piece onto the shell. She could have sworn there was even a flash of light, but maybe it was just the gold reflecting off the moonlight through the window.
It was done. The shell was complete.
“There,” Uma said with satisfaction. “I think that’s it.” She studied her handiwork. The shell glittered in her palm—history, legacy, and tragedy in each curve of its shape. She held it up for everyone to see. “Ursula’s necklace!” she cried.
“Put it on,” said Harry.
She nodded, undid the clasp, and draped the necklace over her collarbone. The gold was warm against her skin, and she felt a faint echo of its former power. It had the sense and shape of her mother’s wrath. One of the greatest treasures of the sea, and it was in her hands.
“All right?” said Harry.
Uma nodded. “I can feel it,” she said, holding the gold seashell between her pointer finger and thumb. “It’s almost like it’s alive.”
“Excellent,” said Harry. “Where to, Captain?” he asked, a hand on the wheel.
Uma whispered to the seashell, “Find me the trident.”
She felt the shell tilt slightly to the right, like a compass, just as Cook told her it would. The necklace and the trident, as the most powerful objects from the underwater kingdom, were linked. Drawn to each other like magnets.
“West,” she said. “It’s due west of us.”
“West it is. To the trident!” cried Harry. “Avast, me hearties! Flip up the jib! Haul anchor! Let’s go!” he ordered, rushing around.
“To the trident!” cried Gil. “Um, what’s a trident?” he asked.
Uma took the scope and looked through the lens. In the distance, she could see Auradon, the mainland. Soon, she thought. Soon she would have Triton’s trident, and she and her crew would be off this cursed island forever.