“Good.” Ishibashi drew some symbols on the dirt floor with his finger. “I am ninety-six years old. My friends are ninety-eight and one hundred and ten,” he said, pointing to them. “Ito and Sato. They are very old.” Ishibashi cackled. The other two islanders smiled politely, not understanding. They were mostly toothless as well.

“We are pleased to meet you and grateful for the shelter, Ishibashi-san,” Alex said. “My name is Alex.” He introduced the others. Fox, who was embarrassed at being pointed out, and Kitten, who decided to be embarrassed too, scampered around the shelter, to the delight of the islanders.

“Are you the only people on the island?” Alex asked.

“Hai, that is correct. There were more, but dead now. Some lived here with us for a time. I am sure more in the future will smash upon our rocks during the hurricane. But now, we are only three.”

Lani edged closer, her eyes ablaze with the fire’s reflection. “How long have you been here? Are all three of you scientists? Don’t you want to escape? What is a hurricane?”

Ishibashi’s laughter rang out and echoed in the stone chamber. “Slower please; I am very old.”

Lani repeated her questions.

The old man nodded after each one and began to answer slowly. “Our ship carried a great number of scientists and crewmembers. It was lost here many, many years ago.”

He paused, a faraway look in his eye, and continued. “At that time, there were ten or twelve others from shipwrecks living here. They were old. Most died soon after we came. Also there are outcasts.”

“Outcasts?” Sky asked.

The man nodded. “There is an island of pirates—you know of it?”

The Artiméans all nodded.

“When the pirates capture intruders or enemies, they hurt them, drag them near our island. Set them adrift in little fishing boats. They have done this for hundreds of years—or so the legend goes. The little boats get caught in the hurricane and crash on rocks. Only a few outcasts lived and made it to shore.”

“Where is everybody now?”

“Gone.” Ishibashi looked at the floor. “Most cannot withstand the constant storm. They go crazy. Then they try to escape. The current and the wind always drive them back against the rocks, to their deaths. Only one time someone escaped—just last year.”

Crow and Henry exchanged horrified looks. Copper leaned over and whispered something to them, but they didn’t look relieved. Alex’s stomach knotted.

Ishibashi went on. “Some from our ship died that way—trying to get off the island. The rest died from accidents or old age.”

“That’s horrible.” Alex shifted uncomfortably as fearful, questioning eyes turned his way. There was so much pressure being the head mage! How were they going to get out of here? He was pretty sure he could transport the ship to calmer waters, but that presented a new set of problems, like how would they get to it without Simber? Living things didn’t transport, so they couldn’t board the ship before moving it. And poor Spike had had a hard enough time getting them safely to the island, and that was swimming with the current. She couldn’t possibly carry them that great distance fighting the current the whole way. And of course there was Florence, too heavy for everyone present to lift for long. It had taken Simber and Spike combined to bring her up from the pirates’ aquarium, and that was in calm water. There was simply no way to get off this island without Simber—they’d have to wait . . . and hope he’d find them.

But what if he didn’t?

Outside the wind howled and thunder crashed. Ishibashi looked out the stone doorway at Florence, who remained unaffected by the horrible weather. “Are you okay, robot?”

Florence, disturbed by the hopelessness of escape, murmured, “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.”

Ishibashi turned back to the other Artiméans. “You know by now a hurricane is a terrible storm. Every day the hurricane comes. It howls all afternoon and through the night. In the morning the storm rests, only to return a short time later, more fierce than the day before.”

“Every single day?” Sky asked. She couldn’t imagine it. She had seen very little rain in her life, and she didn’t like it. Automatically her hand went to her throat, which had once worn the thorns that had silenced her voice. She wasn’t sure which was worse—that, or living in a hurricane like this every day of your life. She found herself longing for Artimé. And she wasn’t the only one.

Ishibashi’s face wore the effects of many years of sorrow and hurricanes. “Every single day,” he said softly.

Trying Not to Panic

After the gathering, Ishibashi and the other two scientists left the Artiméans to get settled. Once alone, fear and worry spread through the group. How were they going to get out of here? When would they have time to fix the boat with the hurricane pounding them every day and blowing away all their supplies? And once Simber returned, how was Alex going to transport the ship far enough outside of the treacherous hurricane zone to keep it from crashing on the rocks again?

Henry was the one to say it out loud. “If Simber had been with us, he would have seen this coming and steered us away. We wouldn’t be stuck here.”

Crow couldn’t hide his fear. “I don’t like this place. Are we stuck here forever?”

“We have to get out of here,” Samheed muttered. “We have to.” He clenched his fists and began to pace the floor.