Alex stopped when he saw Samheed stumbling toward him, carrying a girl whose hair and body were covered with a layer of dirt. She was limp in his arms.
“Stowe, make way!” Samheed barked, dodging around Alex. He set the girl on an empty bed. His voice softened and he put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “And brace yourself. This is a pretty bad scene.”
Alex looked past Samheed at the girl on the bed and gasped.
It was Sky.
In a Panic
Several hours later, outside the palace, the High Priest Aaron took in one last glimpse of the sea, slid the final block into the hole in the wall, and stepped back. He wiped his bloody knuckles on his pants, and then dabbed the sweat on his forehead with his sleeve. “There,” he said, surveying his work and trying not to think about what was happening in Artimé right about now. He needed to get moving on securing the other weak wall in Quill, though he knew there was no way to do it now while there was likely a battle in progress over there. For some ridiculous reason, Aaron’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
He stepped back and drew a keen eye over the wall. It wasn’t perfect, and it needed some patching, but he wondered if anyone far away could tell there had once been an opening in this spot. He concluded that it looked reasonably like the rest of the wall from a distance. Close up, one could see a few narrow slits and holes at eye level, through which tiny breezes blew. Aaron could just barely make out bits of the sea through them if he stood close, but it couldn’t be helped. He frowned at the bloody scrapes on his hands, which stung, and turned to go into the palace.
At the entrance to the cold, gray structure stood Eva Fathom, arms crossed over her chest, watching Aaron.
“Secretary,” Aaron muttered, using the name she’d gone by for fifty years. He didn’t need her nosing around or asking questions right now.
“Welcome back,” she replied. She didn’t move from the doorway. “Where’ve you been?”
Aaron stopped in front of her. “It’s none of your business. Excuse me,” he said. “I have a lot to do today.” He stood several inches taller than the curled old woman, but that didn’t keep Aaron from being a bit apprehensive around her. He was never sure if he could fully trust her, and the two occasionally butted heads. Still, she had been Secretary to the High Priest Justine for decades before the ruler’s untimely death, and Aaron was Justine’s most fervent fan. Surely the former high priest had had good reason to trust Secretary. Aaron just hadn’t figured out what that reason was yet.
The woman stepped aside to let Aaron in. She followed him up to his office. “How shall I assist you today?” she asked when Aaron sat down at his desk.
Aaron studied her through narrowed eyes. “Aren’t you going to ask about the hole in the wall?”
Secretary’s voice was smooth. “You’ll tell me eventually if there is something you need me to know about it, High Priest.”
“So you didn’t see those big—those big jalopies on the sea?”
The woman hesitated, puzzled. “You mean ships?” she asked.
“Whatever they are. A dozen of them. Headed to Artimé.”
“Oh dear.” A frown passed over her face. “You should send guards over to stand in the entrance to Quill and keep intruders out. It’s wide open these days, isn’t it?”
“Good idea. Why don’t you tell them to get over there.”
Eva stepped outside the office to take care of the orders. While she was gone, Aaron picked up a dull pencil and drew a very crooked triangle on a piece of paper, for the sheer reason that he could now that he was high priest. Besides, the distraction helped him think. He drew some other shapes too. Rectangles, like the sails of the ships. Before he knew it, he was drawing lines to connect them.
Secretary cleared her throat. She’d returned, unheard.
Abruptly, Aaron stopped drawing and looked up. He set down the pencil. “We need more than guards. We need to wall in the entrance to Quill,” he said. “Immediately. We—Haluki allowed Quill to be vulnerable for too long.”
Secretary’s brow furrowed, the wrinkles in her forehead deepening such that they resembled tree bark.
Before she could speak, Aaron lifted a hand. “Don’t even begin to argue with me,” he warned. “It’s my duty to keep Quill safe, and that is what I shall do. We’ll need a team of Necessaries to get to work immediately—and not my father this time, please.” He gave the woman a sour look, as if his father’s visit to the palace had been her fault.
“But—” Secretary began.
“Ut-tut-tut!” Aaron replied. “What did I say?”
Eva Fathom closed her icy lips.
Aaron watched her face, suddenly wondering what she was going to say but too proud to ask her now.
“Very well.” She nodded. As she turned to carry out Aaron’s wishes, her face wore the smuggest smile Aaron had ever seen.
Somewhere deep inside him, Aaron began to panic.
Skyfall
Alex rushed to Sky’s side just as Henry came running.
“Is she breathing?” Alex cried. “Is she dead? She can’t be dead!”
Henry was silent as he checked over Sky. After a moment he looked around frantically and shouted, “Ms. Morning!” He turned to Samheed and squeaked, “For Jim’s sake, get Alex out of here. He’s making me nervous.”
Samheed pulled Alex out of the way. Alex, numb, could do nothing but watch as Henry and Ms. Morning worked feverishly over the girl. A thousand memories pummeled his brain: Sky and Crow unconscious on the raft. Sky finally waking up on that fateful day. Sky inching away and spitting water in Alex’s face. Sky stoic and silent on the roof as Alex cried. Sky bringing him the model of the mansion, helping Alex figure out how to get Artimé back. Sky on the pirate ship’s stairway, startling Alex with a kiss. And Sky on a raft once more, determined to save her mother.