Alex held his breath, hoping against hope that Simber had secured Florence enough that she wouldn’t come crashing into anyone, for she would surely crush any human to death.
The ship thudded and shook, smashing against Alex’s spine. He wasn’t sure how long he, much less any of the others, could hang on. The thunder pummeled his ears and rattled his head, and soon he couldn’t tell which way was up. He grew disoriented and flustered. Waves of black washed over his eyes, and as the ship pounded over the water, Alex’s shaking arms could hold on no longer.
Samheed shouted something near Alex’s ear, but Alex couldn’t make it out.
“What?” he cried.
Sam shouted again. It sounded like “Crow!”
Alex looked around but he couldn’t see anything. “Crow?” he shouted back.
Samheed shook his head. “Scroll!” he cried out. He drew a circle in the air and put his mouth next to Alex’s ear. “We’re scrolling! Like Mr. Today’s scroll feature! In Artimé!”
Alex didn’t understand. The term sounded familiar, but he couldn’t concentrate long enough to remember what it meant. He felt ill. “I can’t . . . ,” he said. Another wave of black crossed his vision. He fought to keep from passing out, thinking of Sky and how he couldn’t let go of her. They had to get through this. Ms. Morning needed help. But how would they find home now? Where were they?
As they rounded a fourth sharp turn forward, bringing them upright at last with the sky above and the sea and ship below, Alex could stave off the blackness no more. The echoing thunder in his ears became silent. His arms fell slack; his head bobbled and sank to his chest. Fox slipped from his grasp and slid to the deck, and Sky crumpled to the floor at Alex’s side.
Alex slumped to the deck, unconscious, arms and legs tangled in the rope around him.
Only a few ears heard the thunder slowly dissipate in the distance behind them; few eyes saw the sea slowly grow calm again around the tattered ship. Behind them, the horizon was close enough to touch. In front of them, the sea and sky stretched on and on.
When the second flash of light streaked through the air and exploded into a painted spider in front of Alex’s lifeless face, it would only have taken one clever pair of eyes to notice it and follow the path from whence it came, which would point the way home. But the question remained: Had anyone seen it? Anyone at all?
Henry lay stiller than a statue near the stairwell to the lower deck, one foot twisted around the anchor rope. From his pocket, a white porcelain kitten emerged. She stretched and yawned. She licked a paw and brushed the sleep from her eyes. And then she hopped off Henry and onto the deck, looking over the destruction that had taken place during her nap.
She stepped around Sean, who moaned. She moved past the mast and sails, where Crow and his mother still clung for dear life. She climbed over Florence’s leg and the captain’s chest and a squirrelicorn’s horn, sniffing her way across the deck until she saw him.
She bounded over to Fox, sodden from lying in a puddle, and looking like a rat, but smelling like Fox was supposed to smell. She licked his face until he woke up, and then she hopped on top of his head. When he stood up, Kitten could see over the railing. Fox blinked and shook the water from his fur. He walked over to Alex and began licking the mage’s face earnestly, trying to get him to wake up.
Kitten narrowed her eyes, tilting her head this way and that, finally noticing a fading streak of light going from Alex off toward the sunset. She sniffed it and sat up. She had seen one of those before and knew what it meant. She hopped once, as if it would help her see farther, and then hopped two more times.
When at last Fox had successfully licked Alex’s eyes open and the mage lifted his head, the streak of light had vanished. Kitten could wait no longer, for she did not want to forget.
“Mewmewmew! Mewmewmew!” she cried. She lifted her paw out over the endless sea, pointing the way home—or at least the way to Ms. Morning . . . wherever she happened to be.
Author photograph © 2011 by Vania Stoyanova, VLCPhoto
Lisa McMann is the author of the New York Times bestselling Wake trilogy, Dead to You, Cryer’s Cross, the Visions trilogy and the New York Times best-selling middle-grade dystopian series The Unwanteds. She lives with her family in the Phoenix area. Learn more about Lisa and find her blog through her website at LisaMcMann.com. Or better yet, find her on Facebook (facebook.com/mcmannfan) or follow her on Twitter (twitter.com/lisa_mcmann).
Aladdin
SIMON & SCHUSTER, NEW YORK
Meet the author watch videos, and get extras at
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authors.simonandschuster.com/Lisa-McMann
Also by Lisa McMann
» » « «
The Unwanteds
Island of Silence
» » « «
For Older Readers:
Wake
Fade
Gone
Cryer’s Cross
Dead to You
Crash
Bang
Grasp
» » « «
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
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First Aladdin hardcover edition September 2014
Text copyright © 2014 by Lisa McMann
Jacket designed by Karin Paprocki
Jacket illustration copyright © 2014 by Owen Richardson
Book design by Karin Paprocki
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The text of this book was set in Truesdell Regular.
ISBN 978-1-4424-9328-5
ISBN 978-1-4424-9330-8 (eBook)
Lisa McMann, Island of Legends
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