Emily Windsnap and the Ship of Lost Souls

  The woman took my hand, and both of them walked across the sand with me. My feet melted into it. It was like walking on marshmallows.

  The woman stopped and reached down to a basket in the sand. Where had that come from?

  She held it out to me. “Here,” she said. “Help yourself.”

  I stared into the basket. It was full of pink and white marshmallows! Whoa! How had that happened?

  I looked at the woman. “Go on,” she said, and laughed. “They’re for you.”

  I dug my hand into the basket and pulled out a handful. As I tasted them, I almost fainted from pleasure. They were the sweetest, softest things I had ever eaten in my life.

  “Thank you!” I mumbled, my mouth half full of marshmallow.

  She laughed again. Then she pointed away from the beach. “See that bridge in front of you? Take it into the city,” she said. “You will find much to enjoy. If you have any questions, there are plenty of people around to help you find answers.”

  The bridge led across a river that ran with the clearest water I’d ever seen. As the water flowed, it twinkled in the sunlight, looking as if it were sprinkled with diamonds.

  “Thank you!” I said. I couldn’t wait to go and explore.

  The man was rummaging around in another basket. “Here,” he said. “A welcome gift.”

  “You’ve already given me a garland and a basket of marshmallows!” I laughed. I loved these people!

  The man waved off my reply. “A real gift,” he said, pulling out a bracelet from the basket. A line of tiny bright diamonds, linked by the most delicate gold chain I’d ever seen.

  “Like it?” he asked.

  “I love it!” I gasped. It was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen in my life. I wanted to wear it always, show it to . . . to whom? I couldn’t think of anyone I’d show it to. Couldn’t remember anyone’s names.

  Hold on! I’d show it to all the people I met on this beautiful island! I would get a feathery top just like the woman was wearing, and wear my beautiful new bracelet. I’d smile and laugh and dance and live here forever, the happiest girl alive!

  “Hold your hand out,” the man said, undoing the clasp.

  I held out my arm. No, wait. Not that one. I had a watch on it.

  I pulled up my other sleeve, held out my arm —

  And saw Aaron’s chain.

  No! It had happened again! I’d forgotten where I was, what I was here for.

  I glanced at the man and woman, both still beaming at me. Didn’t they know where they were, where we were, what this place was?

  I pulled down my sleeve again. “Actually, I . . . er, I think I’ll have a little look around first,” I stammered. “See what else there is before I choose what to buy.”

  The woman laughed out loud. “We’re not selling, dear,” she said. “There are no shops here, only gifts.”

  I swallowed. “I — I’ll just take a walk first, if that’s OK,” I mumbled.

  The man put the bracelet into my palm and closed my fingers over it. “Take it anyway,” he said. “All we want is to make you happy.”

  I took the bracelet and fastened it on next to my watch. “OK. Thank you,” I muttered. It was beautiful. I supposed there was no harm in keeping it.

  The woman touched my arm. Her hand was gentle and soft. It calmed my heart rate down a little. “Don’t worry,” she said. “You’ll be fine. We’ll look after you.”

  I tried to smile at her, but my mouth felt frozen on my face as if it might crack and splinter into pieces.

  “OK, thanks,” I stammered eventually, and then I made my way toward the bridge.

  I could see people on the other side of it — maybe the people I’d come to find. I had to reach them. I had to keep on remembering why I was here.

  I checked my timer: 11:08. I had just over eleven hours left. It was time I stepped it up a gear. Nearly an hour had passed already and I had barely started.

  As I crossed the bridge, I scanned the other side. A narrow cobblestone street lined with multicolored buildings ran up a hill and disappeared around a corner. Every building was a different color and shape. Pastel pink next to vivid yellow. Thin tall turrets beside round houses with chimneys — they were so quirky and cute; they reminded me of pictures in a children’s storybook.

  I stepped off the bridge and onto the cobblestones. As I did, I heard someone begin to sing a tune. It was beautiful, haunting. It made me want to cry and laugh at the same time. I stopped walking and looked around.

  The singing stopped.

  Huh? Where had it come from? Where had it gone? There were a few people in the street, walking along casually in groups of two or three, smiling and chatting with one another. No one was singing.

  I shook my head and continued walking. As I did, the song began again. Which was when I realized — it was coming from the cobblestones! As I walked, the ground shone with soft lights and played its music.

  The ground was singing to me?

  I quickly brought my wrist to my face. Aaron’s chain. Look at it! I had to remember why I was here before I got lost in the magic again.

  Back on track, I continued walking, scanning the faces of everyone I passed. I didn’t recognize anyone yet.

  I followed the cobblestone street around a corner. In front of me, a sky-blue gate led to another road. The gate smelled of fresh paint — one of my favorite smells. I leaned in to the gate and closed my eyes for a moment. That smell always made me happy. Made me forget my worries . . .

  Wait! Atlantis was making me forget — again!

  I looked down at myself, grabbed the brooch from Shona, and stared at it for a moment — just long enough to remember. Then I shook myself and pushed the gate open. On the other side was a field.

  And then the strangest thing happened. I walked through the gate and turned to close it behind me. As I did, I looked back and saw . . .

  The cobblestone street had vanished! In its place lay a green field full of white and yellow flowers, all blowing gently in the wind, as if a million daisies were waving me on.

  How had that happened?

  It didn’t matter how it had happened. I had to move on. Closing the gate, I turned back around to the new field — but the field had gone. Now I was looking at a large, busy ice rink! In fact, I wasn’t just looking at it. I was standing in the middle of it. On skates.

  Crowds of smiling people surrounded me, skating in circles — holding hands, laughing together, slipping, falling, helping each other up.

  I’d never tried ice-skating, but I had always thought it looked like fun. I had once watched a reality TV show where celebrities learned to skate. I’d thought I’d love to give it a try if I ever got the chance. And here I was!

  It was almost as if this place knew my secret thoughts and wishes — even the things I’d never said out loud — and somehow brought them to life.

  But surely that wasn’t possible. It must have been a coincidence.

  Either way, I had about two seconds to figure out how to skate before I caused a massive pileup in the middle of the rink.

  I stretched out a leg, then the other — and somehow, with barely any effort, I slid smoothly forward. I was doing it! I could skate!

  I glided across the ice. I skated forward, backward, spun in circles — it was as if I’d been doing it all my life. It was amazing!

  This was so much fun — smiling at everyone who passed me, reaching out to take their hands so we could skate together, in time with the music that seemed to be coming from all around us. I wished I could share it with . . .

  With . . .

  What was his name?

  I skated along more nervously now. What was happening to me? I couldn’t remember anyone’s names. I had a very vague recollection of friends, parents, teachers, a boyfriend, but they were hazy memories, like shadows, reflections, outlines. Not real.

  Your wrist. Look at your wrist.

  Something in my brain was urging me to pay attention. I pulled up my s
leeve and looked at my wrist. I was wearing a watch. Funny, the time was going backward! 10:41 and 54 seconds. 53, 52, 51.

  Why was my watch going backward? Something about it was familiar, but I couldn’t remember what it was.

  The other wrist.

  I rolled my other sleeve up, and the truth slammed into me — just as I slammed into the edge of the rink. Aaron’s chain! My boyfriend. Back in . . . back in . . . Where was he? Where was I? What was I doing here?

  I stumbled off the ice rink. The moment I did, it disappeared behind me as if it had never been there. Suddenly, I was in a square with trees and food stands all around me. People were bustling around, laughing, chatting, nodding, and smiling at one another. Smells wafted from each stand. Oranges, roses, popcorn, cotton candy — every wonderful and delicious smell you could think of. Suddenly, I was desperate for some popcorn.

  “There you go, darling.” A man handed me a bag without my even asking.

  Too stunned to refuse — and it smelled like the freshest, sweetest popcorn I’d ever had in my life — I took it from him and sat down on a bench in front of a fountain.

  I’d been warned that Atlantis was magical and dazzling, but I hadn’t expected it to be this magical — or this bizarre. The popcorn — wow! It was scrumptious!

  Wait. Who’d told me about Atlantis? Something was scratching at my mind. Someone had told me about it.

  Lyle. That was it.

  Of course! I suddenly remembered why I was here. I had a job to do.

  As I ate, I pulled out the sheets of paper from my pocket and studied them. To be honest, all I really wanted was to enjoy the moment, but I knew I had to stay strong and remember why I was there. I forced myself to read while I ate my popcorn.

  I memorized the faces once again. Then I folded the papers back into my pocket and looked around. There were people everywhere. The ones I wanted to find surely had to be here somewhere, didn’t they?

  My head was spinning with faces and names and sights and smells — and way too much information. I had to clear my head.

  I turned to the fountain, cupped my hands, and filled them with water. I closed my eyes as I splashed the water over my head and face. It was just what I needed — cool and refreshing.

  That was better. That was . . .

  Wait! Where had the sounds gone?

  I opened my eyes. The square had disappeared. I was sitting, alone, on a rock at the edge of a river, my hands still wet from the water.

  I staggered to my feet. This place was crazy! How would I ever find anyone here if I couldn’t even find my way around?

  I rolled up my sleeve. No matter what else happened, I decided I had to keep the chain within sight at all times. I’d make myself look at it constantly, force myself to remember. I looked down at my brooch, too, for good measure. Between them, Shona and Aaron had done all they could to keep me safe. The rest was up to me.

  I checked my watch: 10:28. Ten and a half hours to go. More than an hour and a half had already passed, and I was getting nowhere, fast.

  The cool water had at least cleared my head. I glanced around, pulled myself up from the rock, and set off toward some stepping-stones that led across the river.

  As I stepped onto the bridge, I promised myself I wouldn’t let myself get sucked in again. Atlantis could try to mess with my head as much as it liked; I wasn’t giving up.

  I’d find the passengers of Prosperous II. I’d bring them all home.

  I had a job to do, and I wasn’t prepared to fail.

  I crossed the bridge and then watched as the river turned into a country lane. I followed the lane, turned a corner, and found myself in the middle of a ballroom, filled with sparkling chandeliers on the ceiling and glowing candlelight coming from every corner. At one end of the room, a huge orchestra was playing. I stood and watched for a moment. A second later, a man in a tuxedo had taken my hand and started waltzing me across the floor!

  We spun around and around on the dance floor. I closed my eyes and laughed out loud. When I opened them again, I was in a spinning car on a fairground Tilt-A-Whirl ride. Gasping, I blinked and looked around as the world spun by. Another blink and suddenly I was at the top of a roller coaster. I looked down and saw a city full of the highest skyscrapers. Moments later, I was zooming down into a tunnel that brought me out into a valley full of birdsong and wildflowers.

  Every passage took me somewhere even more wonderful and exciting than the last place. Every blink of my eye changed the view. Every door led me into a new land. Every thought I had brought itself to life in front of me.

  Among all of this were throngs of smiling, happy people.

  But still none that I recognized.

  I sat on a cloud that turned into a giant beanbag at the top of a circular slide that had moments earlier been a spiral staircase, and I tried to get my bearings.

  I checked the timer on my watch: 08:41. More than three hours gone already. Time was disappearing like sand slipping through my fingers.

  I was starting to panic. I could feel it, in my chest, in my thoughts, under my skin. Every bit of me was prickling with question marks and anxiety. I no longer had a plan, no longer had any idea how to get out of this, or the confidence that I could do it at all.

  How would I ever find anyone here, when I was almost losing myself? How could I even get from one part of the city to the next when every thought I had turned to . . .

  Wait!

  My thoughts had been making things happen. The marshmallows, the diamonds sprinkling the water, the waltz becoming a fairground ride. Maybe I could do that with the people, too — think about them and they would appear!

  It had to be worth a try.

  I clambered out of the beanbag — which turned into an Old English sheepdog, sighed, curled up, and went to sleep — grabbed a burlap bag, sat down on it, and pushed myself down the slide. As I whizzed down and down and around and around, I closed my eyes and went through the list of people in my mind, picturing their faces one by one.

  Around the curves I went, wind in my hair, eyes closed, until . . .

  “Whoops! Ouch!”

  I had landed in the middle of a spongy green field, right at someone’s feet.

  “I’m so sorry,” a voice said as a hand reached down to help me up. “Are you OK?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. My fault. Sorry,” I garbled as I brushed my legs down and scrambled to my feet. Then I looked up at him. He was vaguely familiar.

  Was he one of the Prosperous II passengers? Had I found them? Had it worked?

  “Are you sure you’re all right?” the man asked again. “You seem quite shaken. Here, come and sit down.” He pointed to the edge of the field. There was a gate, with a wooden bench on the other side.

  We went through the gate.

  It led us back into the busy square, or one very similar to it.

  The man didn’t seem puzzled by the change of scene. He simply sat on a bench in the center of the square and motioned for me to do the same.

  “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” he said.

  “Ha!” I said, trying to keep myself from getting hysterical. “Ha!”

  The man looked at me quizzically. As he did, I noticed a scar above his left eye. Yes, he was definitely one of the people from the ship — I was sure of it.

  He was standing up to go. “Well, if you’re sure you’re OK . . .” he began.

  “No! Wait!” I reached into my pocket and grabbed my sheet of names and faces while the man sat back down.

  I ran my finger down the list. He was there! Wavy gray hair, yellow cardigan, green eyes, scar on the left-hand side of his forehead. It was him!

  “One second,” I urged as I hurriedly scanned the information beside the picture. His name was Tony Mason. He was fifty-seven, and he had a wife named Olivia. She and Tony had just celebrated their silver wedding anniversary. That was why they’d booked the vacation, but Olivia had fallen ill a week before the trip, so he had come with his daughter, Charlott
e, instead. There was a photo of Olivia on my sheet.

  Tony was looking around, tapping his fingers on his knees, and smiling as a juggler passed by on a unicycle. I glanced up to watch for a moment. The juggler had about fifteen cones all passing in perfect circles through his hands as he cycled. Impossible. Amazing!

  It was so easy to get distracted here. I forced myself to concentrate.

  “Mr. Mason,” I said quietly.

  He kept on watching the juggler.

  I cleared my throat. “Tony,” I said more firmly.

  He stopped watching the juggler and turned to me. “How do you know my name?” he asked.

  “I . . . um . . .”

  “We haven’t already met, have we? I’m sure I —”

  “No. No, we haven’t. You don’t know me at all. But I, well, actually, I don’t know you, either.”

  Tony laughed. “Well, that’s a good start,” he said. “Anyway, I’m always happy to make a new friend. Are you here with your parents?”

  I shook my head. “Alone.”

  Tony frowned. “Well, that’s terrible. We must look after you. I’ll see if I can find —”

  “No, I’m fine.” I cut him short.

  “Oh. OK.” Tony looked shocked. I guessed people didn’t interrupt each other in Atlantis.

  “Sorry,” I went on. “It’s just . . . I don’t need your help. I’ve come to help you.”

  Tony stared at me for two seconds, then burst out laughing. “Help me?” he asked. He held his arms out, as if to encompass the square, the fields, the whole island. “How on earth might I be in need of any help? I have everything I could desire.”

  I swallowed. Could I do it?

  Did I have any choice?

  “No, you haven’t,” I said.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You haven’t got Olivia,” I told him.

  “I haven’t got who?” he asked, his eyes twinkling as if we were sharing a joke.

  I opened up the sheet and held it out to him, pointing at the picture of Olivia. “Your wife.”