Simber glanced over his shoulder once more as the army of Warblerans reached the beach, but they didn’t enter the water—at least not yet. And then he looked at Alex. “We can’t,” he said, defeated. “We arrren’t strrrong enough to go back now. And we’ve rrrisked enough alrrready.” He turned sharply. “Captain,” he called, silencing the muttering statue, “We must hurrry.”
The captain commanded the statues to raise the sails, and he took the wheel. “Ye can’t escape, thou treacherous beast!” he cried, shaking his fist toward the nebulous east. There was little wind to take the sails. “A longer night no man or beast has likely seen,” he added, but no one was really listening.
Simber pushed the ship farther out until he could reach the sea’s floor no longer, and then he rose into the air as darkness settled.
Suddenly the fox came tearing up the stairs and jumped up and down next to Florence. “Hey,” he said. “Hey. Hey. Kitten is missing! Kitten isn’t here!”
“What?” Florence asked, alarmed. “You’re serious? No, I’m sure I counted her. Or maybe I counted you and assumed she was on your back.” The ebony statue cringed. She looked over to the shore as if she might be able to see the tiny kitten in the dark. She looked up at Simber.
“We can’t go back,” Simber said gruffly, reading her mind. “Not now. I’ll come back forrr herrr laterrr. She’s a cat. She’ll be fine.”
The fox hopped, anxious, and then he flopped to the deck dramatically and buried his face under his paws, sobbing.
Florence looked around the ship. “Has anyone seen the kitten?” she bellowed. Immediately all the statues and creatures who weren’t busy with other things began to search, for their brave kitten was a hero, having helped save Henry.
“Kitten!” they began calling. “Here, Kitten!”
Henry looked up from leaning over Alex. “What’s going on?” he asked Ms. Octavia, having been fully concentrating on Alex. “Kitten’s not missing.” Something wriggled in his pocket. “She’s right here,” he called. “She was taking a nap in my pocket. She’s fine!” He fished the kitten out as the fox bounded over. Kitten stretched adorably in Henry’s hand and squeaked, “Mewmewmew!”
“She says that she is very sorry to have worried everyone by accidentally falling asleep in Henry’s pocket instead of on my back, which is where she prefers to be, and that she’s just fine, and she loves you all—”
“Shut up,” Simber growled.
The fox froze, looking at Simber in surprise. Then he snapped his jaw shut again and lay down, resting his chin on his front paws. His eyes pooled. The kitten climbed on his back and nestled in.
Simber frowned, muttering something only Florence could hear, and despite the seriousness of their situation, Florence had trouble keeping a straight face. But then she caught herself and looked over to the covered deck, which had become the triage area. Lit torches marked the boundary.
Henry, Meghan, Sky, and Crow hovered over the injured. Sean and Carina lay completely still, eyes closed, but Sky assured the others that they would be fine—they were just getting a nice rest. But Alex was still and gray. And Lani lay on her side, eyes glazed with pain, squeezing Samheed’s hand as Meg and Henry cut her pant leg open and treated the wound.
Ms. Octavia lifted Alex’s head and poured a small vial of liquid between his lips. He choked and coughed. Henry turned sharply, then reached over to touch Alex’s forehead and utter a spell.
“Was it bad that he coughed?” Sky whispered. She could hardly stand watching, but she couldn’t leave Alex’s side.
“No, it was good,” Henry said. “I read it in a book.” He turned to Lani and smiled. “And now I get to try magic stitches for the first time on my sister,” he said in a mildly wicked voice. Samheed lifted his head and shot the boy a quick grin.
“Great, can’t wait,” Lani whispered. She tried to smile too, but she was very weak from losing so much blood. “How’s Alex?” she rasped.
“Well,” Henry said, almost chipper as he basked in being in his element, “if you think about the worst headache you’ve ever had, multiply times a hundred or so, that’s probably what Alex is going to have when he wakes up. Plus his back probably hurts pretty bad.”
Sky swallowed hard. “When . . .” She cleared her throat. “Uh, I mean, when do you think he’ll wake up?” Her fingers worked over each other, unable to keep still.
“I’m not really sure about that,” Henry said. “Could be anytime. Could be a while.” He took out his magnifying glass and examined Lani’s gaping wound. “Wow,” he said, impressed.
Sky looked down, squelching her disappointment. When she turned, she caught Samheed watching her.
He looked away, only a little embarrassed to be caught. It was weird for him, seeing Sky and her little brother acting so alive and normal, and Meghan treating Sky like she was one of their close friends. It almost felt like . . . like Alex and Meghan and everybody else had been too busy making friends with the new kids to be bothered to come rescue him and Lani.
He lifted his head and sucked in a sharp breath, disgusted with himself for thinking such a thing. They’d risked their lives for them. “Don’t be stupid,” he muttered.
Sky slid across the wooden plank deck to the starboard side of the ship, knowing she was probably just in the way. She took a long drink from a tiny magical fountain Ms. Octavia had sculpted while she’d anxiously waited for everyone to return to the ship. The water was cold and pure and delicious—the best water she’d ever tasted. But all she could focus on was Alex, and in between thoughts of Alex her mind went back to her mother stuck inside that strange underwater glass case. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. As happy as she was that they’d rescued Sam and Lani, somehow she felt like everything had gotten worse instead of better.