Florence turned her attention to Alex and the box. She leaned down, grasped the padlock, and squeezed. The lock snapped and dropped to the sand.

“Okay,” Alex said with a grin. “Well, knowing you can do that is slightly frightening.”

Florence smiled and turned back to analyzing the ship’s needs while Alex opened the toolbox and began to pull things out. The wind grabbed hold of the lid and slammed it open wide. Thunder pounded overhead. The rain grew more insistent. Alex squinted at the sky and shook his head. They’d just begun working and now the weather threatened to shut down their efforts. “How are we supposed to get anything done?” he muttered.

A moment later, a shout rose from the shore. “Guys, come and look!” called Henry. “Down here—you won’t believe it!”

Alex and Florence looked at each other and headed over to where Henry and Crow stood on the shore. Copper climbed up to the top deck and watched from there. Lani hopped off her post and, after a quick surveillance, ran toward the boys. Fox, Kitten, Ms. Octavia, Samheed, and Sky came running as well.

“What is it?” Alex asked.

Henry and Crow, streaming with water, grinned from ear to ear. Their eyes shone.

Sky laughed at her brother’s mischievous face. “Come on, what is it?”

Henry looked at Crow. “I think they’re going to have to see it to believe it.”

Crow nodded.

The two boys ran back into the water and struck out toward a wreck that looked like an enormous barge. The rest of the Artiméans went after them.

When Alex dove into the water and swam down, following the boys, he nearly sucked in a noseful of seawater.

Littered across the sea floor, as if in a giant traffic jam, were no fewer than twenty military vehicles . . . exactly like the ones the Quillitary used.

The Strange Figure

Some of the vehicles were lodged up to the tops of their wheels in mud. Others were on their sides or upside down. It was a crazy sight to see—all of those vehicles, covered in rust and slime, green tufts of seaweed growing on the seats and doors. The seat covers rotten. Giant bites ripped out of the cushions. Lani tugged at Alex’s shirt and beckoned him to follow, casting a highlighter spell as she swam. They went closer to see inside one of the vehicles and scared a school of fish.

They explored the fleet of vehicles, finding few useful items among them, but marveling at the strangeness of so many vehicles all submerged and useless. Alex couldn’t stop wondering about them. How long had they been here? It had to be many years. And where did they come from—Quill? It seemed impossible that any of the islands Alex had visited in the chain had enough material and machinery to manufacture these complex vehicles. Were the vehicles created by magic somehow? But if Mr. Today had created them magically, why did they work so poorly in Quill? And why didn’t Artimé have any?

Puzzled and tired, Alex swam to the surface, only to find the skies growing black and the sky sparking with lightning. As Alex swam toward the shore, thunder rumbled and the wind whistled around his head. “Florence,” he called, “tell everyone to come on shore and find shelter. It’s too dangerous.”

Florence summoned the Artiméans and everyone began swimming back to land. As Alex neared the shore, he saw Copper waving and jumping from the top deck of their ship. He could barely make out her raspy shouts, but he could tell she was alarmed. He ran deftly across the rocky shore toward her. Sky wasn’t far behind.

Copper began using hand motions to communicate with Sky.

Sky caught up with Alex and translated as they ran. “She says the man I saw earlier is stealing something.”

“We don’t have much to steal,” Alex muttered. They rounded the curve of the ship and stopped short when they saw a short, thin man tugging fruitlessly on the toolbox. The man looked very old, his olive skin set with deep wrinkles, but he didn’t seem terribly fragile for his age. He wore black-rimmed cat-eye glasses and a floppy sun hat on his head, despite the weather. There was no way he could carry the heavy box of tools, yet he kept trying to drag it. He was going nowhere.

Alex looked at Sky and raised an eyebrow.

She flashed a crooked half smile, and the two communicated without words, like they’d done many times in the past. The man was harmless, and they both understood it. Sky touched Alex’s arm. “Shall I talk to him?”

Alex nodded. He felt the familiar flutter in his stomach at Sky’s touch, and it made him miss their friendship even more. He had to get things back to the way they were when they spent so much time on the roof of the gray shack. He would give anything to have that again. Why did they have to complicate things by kissing? Though he admitted he liked that part too.

Sky approached the man, who hadn’t noticed them yet. She cleared her throat to announce her presence, and he still didn’t notice her—either that or he was ignoring her.

“Excuse me,” Sky said. “Sir, what are you doing?”

The man looked up. He didn’t seem afraid. He tilted his head and said something neither Alex nor Sky could understand.

“I’m sorry,” Sky said, speaking more slowly. “What did you say?” She wrapped her arms around herself to stay warm as the wind and rain beat down on them.

The man narrowed his eyes at Sky. He didn’t seem to notice the storm. He spoke rapidly, but neither of the Artiméans could understand a word.

Sky glanced at Alex, who shrugged. She turned back to the man and tried signing to him.