Claire looked at the ground. “I’ll tell her.”
Eva pressed her fingers to her eyelids to stop the tears. “Thank you. There is someone who can vouch for me. But I can’t say anything more. I have to go.” She looked at Claire. “I’m so sorry, Claire. I hope you can forgive me someday. And . . . Liam, too. He’s been appointed governor, but he’s faking his loyalty. He’s sick over what he did.” She touched Claire’s arm. “Marcus wasn’t supposed to die like that. He and I had a plan. . . .”
Claire recoiled from the touch. “How dare you?”
Eva faltered. “I’ve said too much. My driver . . .” As she stepped back and turned toward the gate, she added, “Aaron is plotting an attack. He uses the tube. Did Charlie tell you? Because I told Matilda.” Now she was just babbling, and it didn’t matter—Claire hated her, and Eva understood why. It was senseless to try to explain herself. She dropped her eyes. “Good-bye,” Eva said.
Just then a shout rang out. And then another, followed by a piercing scream. Soon screams filled the air.
Eva turned to look. Bounding toward the group of children was a huge black creature with gleaming white teeth and a screech that chilled her blood. And behind the creature was a figure in a black cloak running toward them. It was Aaron.
“Aaron, no!” Eva screamed. She ran to the children and began to pull them to their feet. “Run to the mansion!” she told them. “Go!” She turned around and ran toward the screaming panther, trying to get between the beast and the children. With a sinking heart, Eva knew that she didn’t have any magical spell components to stop the panther, and her elemental magic was of no help—neither rain nor ice would stop the beast, and fire out here in the open would only serve to put Artimé in grave danger.
There was only one thing Eva could do to stop the panther. Her legs weren’t as strong as they once were, but with all her energy Eva ran and threw herself in front of the children as the panther opened up her mighty jaws.
Claire was scrambling to put up a protective glass wall and herd the children to the mansion. As they ran, screaming, Claire looked back over her shoulder to see Eva Fathom leaping, putting herself in harm’s way. The creature pounced, knocking Eva’s frail body to the ground, and the beast’s fangs took hold.
In the distance, Aaron Stowe watched in horror. What was Secretary doing there? “Panther!” he yelled. “Just scare them! Come back! Release! Retreat!”
But it was too late. Secretary was down. And the Panther wasn’t letting up. Aaron panicked. “Secretary!” he whispered. He shoved his hand into his pocket, pulled out the two heart attack spells, and sent them flying at Panther, yelling, “Heart attack!” as he did so.
The heart-shaped components sprouted wings and flew straight and true, hitting Panther in the side. The beast stopped cold, held her position for a second, and then toppled over to one side in the grass next to Eva Fathom.
Neither one moved.
A second later Artiméans streamed out of the mansion to defend their world. Aaron stared. And then he turned around and ran as fast as he could back into the jungle.
With all the children safe inside, Claire rushed back outside and pushed her way to Eva’s side. The nurses were already there. But there was nothing they could do. Eva Fathom was dead.
For what seemed like an eternity, no one knew what to say. Eva Fathom had sacrificed her life for the sake of Artimé.
“We should summon Alex so Carina can come,” Claire said quietly. She looked at Mr. Appleblossom, who nodded. “She threw herself in front of that panther. If she hadn’t, it would have gotten the children.” She shook her head, sickened by the frightening beast. “Where in the world . . . ?” she said. She’d never seen anything like it.
The nurses covered Eva Fathom’s body, picked her up, and brought her inside the mansion. Claire couldn’t tear her eyes away from the beast lying still in the grass. Next to it were two used heart attack components. “Who cast these?” she asked, looking around.
No one claimed the deed.
“Whoever did it most surely saved lives,” Claire said. But she felt uneasy inside. Had her ears played tricks on her, or had she heard Eva shouting to Aaron, of all people? Was he responsible for the creature’s attack? Or for its demise? Claire hadn’t seen anything in her haste to protect the children.
“Reluctant heroes in our midst, perhaps?” suggested Mr. Appleblossom, and then he declared, “May paybacks for a good deed never lapse.”
Claire frowned, sizing up the creature. It was bigger than a man, but not nearly so big as Simber. “I’m pretty sure this panther’s not dead,” she said as Gunnar ran out to join them. “She took a double hit, but I believe the spell will wear off eventually even if we don’t release it.” She looked up. “What’ll we do with her? She’s actually very beautiful when she’s not charging toward you.”
“Look at those fangs!” Haluki said with a wistful smile. He touched the panther’s back. “I’m glad she’s not dead. I know her. I’ll take her back where she belongs.”
Claire twisted her neck to look at him. “You know her? How is that possible? I don’t remember ever seeing her before. Did my father make her?”
“Yes, he did,” Gunnar said, nodding. “Call everyone to go inside, and keep them there until the panther and I are long gone. All right?”
“Are you sure she won’t hurt you?”
“I’m sure.” Gunnar touched her sleeve. “I’ll be back soon.”
Claire smiled, and then she turned and ordered everyone into the mansion. The people of Artimé lined the windows, peering out, ever so curious to know how Gunnar Haluki would tame this wild beast.
When everyone was safely inside, Gunnar held his hand toward the panther and released the heart attack spells. As the panther lifted her head, the former high priest spun around. His body blurred, and when he stopped moving, a giant gray wolf—with kind blue eyes—stood in Haluki’s place.
The panther struggled to her feet as the wolf moved to help her. They put their heads close together for a long moment, as if the panther and the wolf were old friends getting reacquainted.
When the panther had recovered enough to stand and move on her own, the feline and canine friends slowly trotted off to the jungle together.
To the West
The ship traveled several hours, Sean peering anxiously ahead from his chair on the deck and Lani asking now and then if Simber could see anything.
“Still no,” Simber said. “It is endlessly the same. Waterrr and sky meeting at the horrrizon.”
By late afternoon, Alex grew restless. “Nothing new?”
“Nothing new,” Simber said.
Samheed wisely held his tongue.
Florence kept a constant watch over the sea, forever uneasy on the open water since the eel had attacked. And while she was pretty sure Karkinos had ended up munching on the squirmy tail end of the eel, no one really knew for sure if it was the same eel they’d encountered before, despite its increased size, or if there was more than one eel out there. And Florence wasn’t about to take any chances.
“Simber,” she asked suddenly, looking up, “have you seen Spike lately?”
Simber frowned. “I’m surrre she’s fine,” he said, but he dropped back anyway to look for the whale.
Alex watched him go. When the stone cheetah grew small in the distance, Alex turned to scan the horizon for any sign of land.
Some time later, when Alex went to check on the giant cat, a flash caught his eye. Spike’s sparkly spike was reflecting some sunlight. A bird-size Simber flew in the air above, heading toward the ship at a lazy pace.
“They’re coming,” Alex told Florence. The statue seemed relieved to hear it.
At first, almost no one noticed that the ship had begun to go faster. Ahab gave a shout, but he was always giving shouts about something, and no one paid much attention to him these days. Lani glanced up methodically, then went back to her map.
It was Sean, from his comfortable perch near
the ship’s wheel, who looked sharply at the captain after the old statue shouted again.
“What’s that you’re saying?” he asked.
“The ghost of the whale!” Ahab cried, reaching for the ropes that would lower the sails. “She’s got ahold of the ship once more!”
Samheed rushed over to help Ahab. “What’s happening?”
“That ghoulish monster has overtaken us,” Ahab mumbled. He yanked at the ship’s wheel.
“But Pirate Island is back the other way,” Samheed said. “Are you sure?” He tied down the sails and looked at Sean. “Are we still speeding up?” he asked, incredulous.
“We are,” Sean said, perplexed.
By now Alex had felt it too, and seen the flurry of activity. “Something’s happening,” he muttered to Florence as he passed by her. “Call everyone on deck.”
Lani put away her map and strained to see what was happening. “Land?” But she soon realized the excitement had nothing to do with land.
The ship pummeled over the waves, and the sea turned choppy. Alex didn’t understand it. It couldn’t be a storm. In front of them was the same sky they’d seen all day, except the morning clouds had all dissipated. Only the sea looked different. Whitecaps fizzed and churned around the ship as its speed continued to increase. Samheed dodged obstacles as he ran to the bow to see what was happening, while Florence began calling out instructions to everyone.
“Simber!” Alex called.
The stone cheetah looked up from a quarter mile behind them, where he’d been flying along with Spike. He and the whale began moving faster to catch up with the ship. “What’s wrrrong?” bellowed the cat when he was close enough to be heard by the boy.
But Alex didn’t have time to answer, because from the front of the ship, Samheed began yelling. “Holy moly!” he said. “Captain, turn it around! Turn it around!” Samheed whirled about, fear on his face. “Somebody lower the anchor—we need to stop. NOW!”
Lani rushed to release and unfurl the anchor. Alex ran to Samheed at the bow, slipping and sliding on the deck as spray splashed everywhere. “What is it?” Alex asked. “What’s happening?”
“See for yourself,” Samheed said, distressed. He pointed ahead.
The place where the sky met the sea no longer seemed like a spot far off in the distance as it always had in the past. There seemed to be an end to the sea now, and it had grown steadily closer. The ship was barreling toward that point. Alex sucked in a breath. “Buckets of crud,” he said. “It’s the edge of the world!”
“And we’re about to fall off,” Samheed said. “At top speed. It’s pulling us to it.”
Alex stared, trying to figure out what to do, what to tell everyone else to do. His eyes grew wider with each passing second. Spray and foam created an eerie fog that rose in front of them, distorting their view. A sound like the constant rumbling of thunder began, and grew louder. He looked over his shoulder and shrieked, “Simber!”
Alex and Samheed looked at each other as they both realized what the thunderous noise was.
“Waterfall!” they yelled together.
Alex turned to face the ship full of scared faces. “Everybody tie down and hang on,” he urged. “Major bumpy ride ahead!”
Finally Simber caught up to the ship. He swooped in at top speed, with the whale not far behind. “Tie down a rrrope and thrrrow me the otherrr end!” he shouted. “One to Spike, too!”
Carina and Sky sprang into action.
Florence, who needed to remain planted on the deck or risk capsizing the ship, called out, “Give me the ropes when you’ve got them!”
Carina and Sky scrambled to untangle ropes and toss them to Florence.
Florence wound the first one around a tether on the deck, tying it tight. “Here, Kitty,” she said, tossing it high. Simber swooped in and caught it with his teeth. Florence tied down the second rope, located Spike in the water, and tossed that one to her. Spike grabbed on.
Alex ran to Sean’s side and began strapping him to his chair, and his chair to the ship. “Sorry, buddy. I’ve got to do this,” he said. “I figure you can’t swim real well right now.”
Sean nodded. “Yeah. I wish I could do something.”
“Don’t be stupid.” Alex gave him a wry smile and punched him in the shoulder. “Just hold on.”
Alex watched as Simber’s and Spike’s ropes began to pull taut. “Hang on, everybody!” he shouted. The ship jerked and shuddered, but it soon recovered and barely slowed at all as it continued speeding toward the precipice.
Alex looked up at Simber, desperate. “We’re not stopping,” he said. “What do we do? Squirrelicorns, assist!”
Rufus and the other five ’corns flew to take hold of the ropes and tried with all their might to pull the ship in the other direction.
Simber’s face showed little expression, but his eyes were worried. Gripping the rope in his mouth, he strained and pulled, unable to speak as he tried to turn and fly in the opposite direction. The ship only dragged him backward through the air like a kite.
In the water, Spike held on with her razor-sharp teeth, but it made no difference. She was being dragged through the water as if she weighed as much as Kitten. They were doomed.
“Everyone—abandon the goods and tie yourselves to the ship!” Alex yelled. “Stay abovedecks!” His worst nightmare was to have someone get trapped belowdecks with water pouring in. At least out here, Simber and the squirrelicorns could rescue them. Down there . . . Alex shuddered. He whipped his head around as the ship began to tremble. The thunderous pounding felt like the mad rush of his beating heart in his ears. Through the mist he could barely make out the edge of the sea a hundred feet in front of them.
He had to say something to his people, but his magely words caught in his throat. They were going over the edge of something, and no one knew how far they’d fall. The ship full of people, the statues and creatures all battening down and taking cover, Simber and Spike hanging on without a hope of saving the ship—Alex had never had so much time to face the possibility of death before.
But he couldn’t die. Not now. Not ever! Finally, he found his voice. “Pull!” he screamed to Simber and Spike. “Hang on!” he screamed at everyone else. All his words were lost in the thunder.
“Alex!” Simber shouted, the rope loose in his teeth as he flew closer to the boy, a question in his eyes.
Alex knew what Simber wanted him to do. As the point of the ship’s bow neared the edge of the world, Alex stared Simber down. “No,” he said, hoping the cat could read his lips. “I stay with the ship.”
“Then so do I.”
Alex brought his hand to his chest and held the cat’s gaze as Simber slowed and let the rope grow taut once more, pulling with all his might, his efforts fruitless, but not giving up. Alex sought Sky, and found her at the top of the sails, just where he knew she’d be. Her mother and Crow clung to the ropes beside her.
For the briefest of moments their eyes met, and her look tore Alex’s heart in half. And then, as the bow crossed over the edge and the ship neared the tipping point, something bright and fiery flew toward Alex, stopped in front of his face, and exploded into a picture of a spider painted on a stone.
It didn’t register.
And then it did. It was a seek spell from Claire. Artimé was in trouble.
“Siiimber!” Alex cried, his voice lost in the thunder.
The ship tilted sharply. Alex’s eyes met Simber’s. And they all went sailing over the edge.
The Edge of the World
They plunged toward the thunder and into the mist, falling at a dizzying speed, dragging Simber and Spike and the squirrelicorns with them. Sheets of water slapped the Artiméans, batting them about and knocking them off their feet as they clung to or hung from the ship. “Hold on!” Alex shouted, but his mouth filled with seawater, which choked off the words.
The ship shook and bounced as it fell, pummeled by rapids. Florence’s body slammed against the stern, squashing Ms. Oct
avia and pinning Fox. Sky, Crow, and their mother swung wildly from the sails, trying desperately to grab on to the mast with their feet. Lani, Henry, and Carina hung on to Sean’s chair for dear life. Ahab clung to the ship’s wheel, while Alex and Samheed remained secured to the bow, certain to be the first to hit whatever was at the bottom of the drop.
Second after agonizing second passed as they dropped, their stomachs in their throats. Alex felt faint and sick. He couldn’t see anything, couldn’t do anything to help anyone except ride out the journey and hope to live through it, though the chances of that seemed tinier the longer they fell.
The ship slammed from one side to the other. The thundering grew so loud that Alex thought his eardrums would burst. His whole body shook and swung about, and it was all he could do to hang on.
Then everything shifted. The ship took a second right-angle turn forward, slamming everyone with water once more and yanking them wildly against their ropes. It took Alex several seconds to realize that they were now sailing completely upside down: The ship and the sea were above them, the sky below, and they dangled precipitously as a reverse sort of gravity seemed to want to pull them down into the never-ending sky. Their speed increased but the thundering noise decreased, and soon Alex could hear the cries of his friends once more. He opened his eyes, and through splashes of water saw Florence holding on to the side of the ship with one arm while Simber attempted to wrap his rope around her leg.
“Stay strong and hold tight, everyone!” Alex yelled, relieved to know that at least some of them remained attached to the ship. “We are still here. Hold on! Take a fresh grip and wrap yourself in the ropes if you can!”
They continued upside down for an almost unbearable amount of time, and then, just as swiftly as it had fallen, the ship took an upward turn and the thundering noise increased once more. Alex and Samheed, hanging on to ropes, slammed into the deck and bounced, which gave them momentary relief until a few of their shipmates dropped on top of them, unable to hang on after the most recent shift in direction. Something furry scrabbled straight up the deck and sank its claws into Alex. Instinctively Alex held on to it, deducing that it had to be Fox, and then another body slid into his—human this time. “Sky!” he cried, but she didn’t answer; or if she did, he couldn’t hear her. Alex wrapped his arms around both of them, weaving the rope as best he could to secure them against him. Water poured over them now.