Island of Dragons (Unwanteds #7)(13)

Alex took a closer look and pointed to some dots on the map. “There are islands there, right? See? Could this cluster be us?”

Kaylee laid her hand on Alex’s shoulder, realizing he wanted Artimé to be on her map almost as much as she did. “Those are islands, yes,” she said gently. “But they’re not your islands.”

Alex frowned. “How do you know?”

“They’re labeled, see?”

Alex looked at all of the land around the dots, reading the unfamiliar names aloud.

Sky gave Kaylee a solemn look. “So, have you figured out where we are if we’re not on your map?”

Kaylee shoved her hands in her pockets and sighed. “Yeah, I have, actually. It’s been in the back of my mind since the storm, but I didn’t want to believe it. However, after reading the ship’s logs I started to reconsider. And finding out that a dragon not only exists here, but is the actual ruler of the sea? That pretty much solidified it in my mind.”

Alex and Lani looked up from the map. “Where are we, then?” asked Alex.

“Well,” Kaylee said, pointing to a triangular shape made of faint, dotted lines on the map, “I’m afraid we’re lost about a hundred miles south of Tokyo in the Devil’s Sea. Also known—quite fearfully by sailors, I’m afraid—as the Dragon’s Triangle.”





Trouble at Sea


Henry was glad for the cocoon, which was more like a giant wind sock than a chair, because it allowed him to stretch out and relax without fear of flying off Spike’s back. He had never gone so fast in his life. His eyes watered in the wind, and after a while he just curled up and put his arms over his face to shield them.

“Are you okay?” Florence called out to him.

He nodded and gave Florence a thumbs-up.

Before dark, Warbler Island was growing large off to their left. Pan and Spike decided to go around the island at a bit of a distance to keep from being noticed by anyone there.

Spike slowed and cleared her blowhole, drenching Henry, though he was wet anyway from the sea spray. “Something is not right at Warbler,” she said.

Pan slowed as well and swung her head around to look at the silent island. Florence and Henry looked too.

Pan’s yellow eyes narrowed. “Ships,” she said.

“In the water?” asked Florence. Neither she nor Henry could see them.

“Yes,” said Pan. “Lined up around the east side. They’ve moved some of their fleet offshore, it appears.”

Florence looked troubled. “I wonder why?” She thought about the Warbler children in Artimé.

No one had an answer.

“I’ll take a closer look on my return,” said Pan. “There are no people on board the ships that I can tell, so likely they won’t be going anywhere tonight.” They sped up again, anxious to get to their destination.

With Warbler behind them, the Island of Fire grew larger, and the Artiméans and Pan noticed more ships, this time sailing from the pirate island toward Warbler.

Florence pointed them out to Henry, and Spike and Pan changed course to make sure their group wasn’t detected.

“This doesn’t look good,” Florence said to Henry.

“It could be nothing,” Henry said. “Or maybe the pirates are buying more slaves, like Copper.”

“I doubt they would need multiple ships for that,” Florence said. It was worrisome.

The party continued traveling swiftly as darkness fell. Henry curled up once more and fell asleep, and Florence sat quietly, thinking about seeing Talon again.

Deep into the night, Spike called out, “Something bad is coming.”

“What is it, Spike?” asked Pan, her head darting around. “An eel?”

“Ye-e-s!” Spike yelled, her voice panicky. She jerked. A second later, something slithered around her tail. The whale twisted in the water, rousing Henry from a deep sleep, and then without warning she jumped into the air with the eel wrapped around her. Spike submerged with a giant splash and dove deep, trying to shake the eel. Henry hadn’t had time to scream—or breathe.

“Henry!” yelled Florence, sitting up in alarm.

“Hold on tight, Florence!” Pan commanded. Florence leaned forward and held on to Pan’s neck. Together they dove underwater to find him.

Startled, Henry sucked in seawater and choked as he was dragged inside his cocoon at full speed. His lungs and throat burned, and water pressed against him like a thousand-pound weight, forcing its way into his mouth and nose, pushing against his eardrums and eyeballs. Blind and disoriented, Henry wound one arm through the straps of the cocoon and desperately swung out with the other, trying to connect with whatever was dragging them down. Don’t breathe! he told himself, but his body reacted in its own way.

With no air, Henry sucked in more water until his chest and head threatened to explode. Black spots wavered before his eyes. His thoughts became dull and jumbled. The pressure was daunting, and he felt himself slipping away. Knowing he was drowning, he tried to fight it, tried to strike out with his arm again, but he couldn’t get his body to move. Soon both arms slacked and the thudding pressure of the water pounded the consciousness from him.

Under the surface of the water, Pan went for the eel’s head. The eel dodged and sent out an electric shock, but Pan narrowly avoided it. Then the dragon struck out, weaving and striking again, and finally grabbed the eel’s face in her mighty jaws. The eel screamed. Pan clamped down hard, crushing its sparking head.