Samheed closed his eyes. “Okay, yeah, I’m sorry. I mean, I know it was hard for you, and at least Lani and I didn’t have to sit in cold water for half a day. But that doesn’t explain why it took a month for you guys to come back. I mean”—his still hoarse voice grew louder and cracked, and he held his head as if it were about to explode—“I mean, Lani sent those stupid seek spells day after day after day! And nobody—nobody—”

He put his hands over his face, and his voice grew dark and cold, booming over the calm sea. “Meghan, you cannot possibly imagine, not in a million years, how helpless and horrible it felt to be blind and alone and to call out for help with that spell and have no response, day after day after day, not one hint that you were getting them—” The tears overflowed his red-rimmed lids and ran down his cheeks. He turned to face her. “And I can take it, okay? I’m tough, I don’t need anybody, I don’t need you guys,” he said, sounding like the old Samheed, not knowing what crazy words were falling out of his mouth, “but how—how could you do that to Lani? How? I can’t imagine a single reason big enough that would keep you guys from helping us for so long.”

He was growing hysterical, and he couldn’t stop. “Where were you? Where were Lani’s parents? Where was Mr. Today?” He ripped his hands through his hair and then held them out, like a plea. “Don’t make up some crazy story just to try to get me to calm down, okay? Just admit it. Somebody, will you please just admit it? Say you screwed up and you’re sorry, and I’m telling you, Meg, I’ll respect that a whole lot more than this junk we’re all dancing around now—this ignoring it, or pretending like everything’s fine, and I promise you that’s all I need to hear and it’ll be all good again.” He sniffed hard and swiped his arm across his face. “It’ll be good again.”

Meg closed her eyes and dropped her head.

Samheed’s voice softened and he put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you, Meg. I know you couldn’t do anything. But what about them?” he turned and waved his hand across the ship, seeing for the first time that Florence, Simber, Sean, Ms. Octavia, and Henry were all standing nearby listening to them, the most somber looks on their faces. Beyond them Lani was sitting up, watching with her fingers at her lips. And Alex—Alex was awake and on his feet, leaning over the railing, Sky and Crow holding him up as he vomited into the sea.

After a moment, Sky shot a sad glance over her shoulder toward Samheed, and then she pulled a small towel from her back pocket and helped Alex wipe his mouth. She and Crow eased him into a chair, where he put his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

Samheed paled when he saw Alex, knowing his friend had heard him. He turned away, pressing his fingers into his eyes and fighting an inner war once again.

Meghan’s lip quivered but she stood tall, not sure what to say. She glanced at Simber, and then at Sean, and then at Alex, whose long dark ringlets were tangled once again and hung down over his fingers. With effort, he lifted his head, looking at Simber, who nodded back to Alex.

Alex held up a shaky hand, taking a gentle breath and focusing on speaking. “Thanks, Meghan,” he said. He paused as a wave of nausea passed over him, and sweat beaded his forehead. When he could speak again, he said, “Sean can take it from there.” His voice quavered, but his words were quiet and decisive, like a leader’s. “But first . . .” He looked at Samheed and weakly held his arms out to his friend.

When Samheed hesitated, Alex said, “Come on, man.” He took another painful-sounding breath and tried again. “I just hurled, and my head is split in half. Help a guy give a proper greeting, will you?”

The Tale Is Told

Samheed lowered his head and shuffled off toward Alex. “I’m an idiot,” he said, kneeling down in front of Alex’s chair. He reached out and the two friends hugged, Alex wincing only a little when Samheed patted him on the back. “I’m glad you’re okay.” Sam sat back

and looked at his friend. “You look terrible, though,” he remarked. Alex gave him a shaky half grin. “At least I don’t smell like you.”

“Hey,” Samheed said. The others nearby snickered. “I worked hard all day to smell this manly.” He let his smile fade, then said earnestly, “I’m sorry for sounding like a jerk.”

“Well, under the, um, circumstances,” Alex said, “I—” He turned green. “Oh no. Hold on a second.” He looked for Sky, who saw his face and rushed over, helping him to the railing just in time.

“It’s the medicine,” Henry said, nodding importantly. “He might yodel groceries all night long!”

Alex groaned from the railing, letting his arms dangle over it. “Somebody kill me now.”

“No!” shouted Florence, Octavia, Simber, Rufus, and all the humans who had lived through the disaster on Artimé. Death of the mage was no joking matter. Their faces reflected the fear that it could happen again.

Lani shot Samheed a quizzical look. “I think maybe we should let them do the talking now.”

The light moment of banter faded. Carina got up and offered her seat to Samheed so he could sit next to Lani. Sky helped Alex ease back into his spot on the other side of her. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his shirt and let his head rest on the back of the chair. He closed his eyes. “I drove the boat with Meg,” he said, his voice wrecked and full of grit. “Simber flew above us. And slightly to the right,” he said, his hand stretching out before him, placing Simber in his mind. “He was guiding us home in the dark. We made plans to come back for you the next day. And then—and then Simber—” He heaved an uneasy breath, and brought his forearm to cover his eyes as the memories flooded back. Alex began to shake uncontrollably.