“I’ve underestimated him plenty of times.” She looked tentatively at Tor. “I think we both have.”
He realized she was right. Tor still saw Engle as the joking, class clown kid he had been in the first few years of their friendship. But Engle was so much more than that. He was fiercely loyal…and cunning, when he wanted to be.
For the last year, Tor had been obsessed with swimming and waiting for Eve to make his wish. He wondered if that had put a wedge between him and his best friend. Tor knew Engle better than anyone else, yet still was surprised when he had admitted to being affected by the Lake of the Lost.
The last month, Tor had been focused on his own pain. His own regret. His own anger at what the Night Witch had done to him. He should have asked if Engle was all right. Tor should have realized that his friend had been hiding his hurt behind jokes and laughs. He had done it before, whenever he was upset that his parents were always away.
“Melda,” he said suddenly. “Are you okay?”
She blinked at him. “No. Not really…” She swallowed. “But if we all get home in one piece, I’ll find a way to be.”
They stayed on the deck all through the night, trading stories about Engle, until the sightseer surfaced. It was barely dawn.
Melda and Tor stood immediately. He stepped forward. “We’re sorry. We never should have never done it behind your back. We should have talked to you about it.”
Engle nodded. “Yeah, you should have.”
There were a few moments of silence.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Melda asked, voice quiet. “The Lake of the Lost?”
The sightseer stared down at the deck for a little while, biting the inside of his mouth. Then, he nodded.
Engle sat down next to them and frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever been afraid of anything, not really.” He shrugged. “I never thought about dying.”
Tor knew as much. During their last journey, Engle had been the bravest of them all.
“But then the Lake of the Lost happened, and I thought I was going to die. I thought that was it, I was a goner. It hurt, and I was afraid. Really afraid.” Engle lolled his head back and stared up at the sky. The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon. “When we got back, things weren’t the same. Mom was home for a little while, and I pretended to be okay because I wanted her to go back to the Alabaster Caves. But I’m not. Every night, I dream of it. Every single night, I get dragged down into the lake by the bonesulkers.”
Melda took his hand. “How can we help you?”
He shrugged. “Just…this,” he said. “Talking about it. We…” He swallowed. “We didn’t really talk about it afterward.”
Tor realized he was right. They would meet up at the beach most mornings, but mostly sit in silence. Lost in their own thoughts.
They had each dealt with the aftermath of their journey alone.
Tor nodded. “I promise to talk about it all from now on. Even the bad stuff.”
“Me too,” Melda said.
Engle smiled. “Me three.”
“Which reminds me,” Tor said. “There’s some more…bad stuff.” He told them everything the truthteller said. By the end, Engle and Melda were both pale and silent.
“So that’s it, one of us is going to die?” Melda said, looking somewhere past Tor.
It felt like a knife was being twisted in his stomach. The lump in his throat made it impossible to talk. He nodded.
Engle bowed his head. “I don’t want to die,” he said softly. “But if it’s this way, saving one of you or Estrelle, that would be all right.”
A tear slid down Melda’s cheek. She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to keep going. I—I don’t want one of us to die. Not if we’re going to fail anyway.”
Tor imagined Engle was going to call Melda a hypocrite. But Engle surprised him by sighing. “Mel, we have to at least try. Estrelle is counting on us.”
Melda’s bottom lip quivered. “But she’s the truthteller. And she said one of us would die and we won’t get the pearl. What the point?”
“You know what? What if the pearl is destroyed? What if it doesn’t even exist? What if we find something else that can save Estrelle or defeat the Calavera?” Engle sighed. “There are a thousand possibilities that fit the prophecy. And if, in the end, we still stop them from invading Emblem Island, then it’s worth it. We can’t give up now.”
Melda blinked. “Since when are you the voice of reason?”
Engle grinned. “When our voice of reason isn’t being reasonable.”
Tor laughed, just a little. But inside, his chest felt like it was concaving. Because even though he had made the decision to charge forward whatever the cost, he couldn’t imagine living without one of his best friends.
Isla Pomme
When pirates die, they hope to go to Isla Pomme, a place made completely of treasure. The sand is gold dust. The water is miles of strung-together sapphires. Goblets never run dry. The sun never burns. The creatures never bite.
And some are lucky enough to visit Isla Pomme while still living. It is said that when a want is bright enough, the island will appear, to offer a bargain to those desperate enough to take it.
Once, a pirate’s wife drowned, and he missed her so much, Isla Pomme revealed itself, with a way to bring her back. Without hesitation, he inked his name in blood, linking his life to the contract. He was reunited with his love, but at a cost.
He had to replace the life the sea had lost.
When the man and wife had a child, the ocean called in its debt.
Pirates still hunt the island, searching for a heaven that does not always require death. Though, more times than not, death is the cost. Isla Pomme shows what a person wants most, tempting them to take it.
And if they do,
