Island of Fog (Book 1) (20 page)

“We just want the truth,” Abigail demanded. “It’s time you told us everything.
Everything.
”

There was an outcry of whispers and annoyed grumbles at Abigail’s outburst, a mixed reaction from a surprised circle of adults. Miss Simone pushed her cloak back over her shoulders and stepped into the center of the room, raising her hands to calm everyone.

Then she turned to Abigail. “Young lady,” she said firmly. “You are not old enough to make demands of your parents, or indeed me. Kindly tell us how Robbie was able to break down the gates of the lighthouse. What did you mean by that?”

She stared intently at Abigail, as did everyone else in the room. After a moment, Abigail swallowed and spoke evenly. “Hal wants to say something. So please listen, or he might get angry.”

Hal jumped and swung around to her. She gave him a quick nod of encouragement, and a wink.

Might get angry?
What on earth was she thinking now? Hal wished he’d made her and Robbie stay outside.

Now the center of attention again, he took a deep breath. “What Abigail means is that we’re tired of being kept in the dark about everything. So we’ve . . . well, we’ve sort of been meeting in secret and discovering a few things.” One of Miss Simone’s eyebrows shot up. Hal forged ahead. “And one of the things we’ve discovered is that the fog comes out of a hole in the ground in the woods.”

He waited for a reaction from his parents. From any of the parents in the room. But they just stared at him.

“We know that, son,” said his dad softly.

“Oh.” Hal faltered. Of
course
they knew that. “Well, we discovered it last week and thought it would be a good idea to block it up.”

“What?” Miss Simone exclaimed. She looked aghast and seemed to reel on her feet. So did all the other adults. “You thought
what?
”

“Oh no!” cried Mrs. Stanton, her hands flying to her face. “What did we do with the chemical suits?”

“But there was a manticore,” Hal went on hurriedly, losing his grip again. “It chased us away so we didn’t get a chance to finish the job and then we had this idea to make a raft and leave the island but there was this huge sea serpent, just like you said, Dad, and it brought us back and took our raft away, and then Abigail showed me her wings and called me a freak and Robbie turned into an ogre, and then—”

“Whoa,” his dad said, holding his hands up. “Slow down, Hal. You’re not making any sense.”

But Miss Simone, surprisingly, had developed a smile that might almost be called pleasant. “Oh, I think Hal
is
making sense—finally.” She had switched on the charm now. “Hal, are you telling me that some of you have experienced some changes? Is that it?”

“You could say that,” Hal agreed. “So there’s no need for Fenton to leave tonight. He can stay another day or two, can’t he? And then we’ll all be ready to go together.” He glanced at his mom. “That is, if we really
must
go.”

His mom looked stunned, and she reached for her husband’s hand.

Miss Simone nodded. “I think I understand now,” she said. “Hal, how about I give you all another day. The morning after next I’ll be back to take with me whoever is ready to go. But I’m afraid whoever is not ready will have to stay here until they are.”

She glanced out the window, but it was too dark to see anything.

“Is everybody outside?” she asked. When Hal nodded, she clapped her hands. “Good. Let’s step outside then, and talk some more.”

Since Hal, Robbie and Abigail were blocking the door to the hallway, they turned and led the way outside. Abigail gave Hal’s hand a squeeze and smiled. Surprised and pleased, Hal returned a grin. But truthfully, he felt a little dazed by the conversation in the living room. He’d blurted it all out in a haphazard fashion and couldn’t even recall exactly what he’d said. But at least Miss Simone seemed agreeable to waiting an extra day.

The cold air outside felt good after the stifling living room. Hal hadn’t realized how hot he’d started to get. He led the way out to the street, and almost tripped over Wrangler as the border collie hurried past. Hal found Dewey, Emily, Lauren and Darcy still sitting on the low wall. Emily remained seated as Wrangler found her and licked furiously at her face, but the others jumped up and looked fearful at the sound of many pairs of adult feet tramping down the path.

Hal looked for Fenton. He was still there, hanging from the lamppost, barely visible in the dark.

“Hi, Mom,” Emily said, waving. “Dad.”

Mr. and Mrs. Stanton just stared at her in surprise, studying her curious clothing, as the other children greeted their parents. Hal saw worry in the eyes of many adults—or was it suspicion? Perhaps not even that, but resentment? Hal wasn’t entirely sure
what
he saw written on the adults’ faces. His mom was wringing her hands, and his dad was scratching at his beard. Signs of worry? But worry about what, specifically? Simply Hal’s health and well-being, or something more than that?

Miss Simone looked around. “Fenton’s missing,” she said.

Abigail said shortly, “He’s around.”

There was a long, expectant pause.

Hal felt goose bumps on his arms. His magical clothes seemed to do a good job of keeping him warm in the cold, foggy evening air, and even the parts of his body that weren’t covered felt oddly comfortable. The goose bumps on his arms must be something to do with the situation at hand, he decided—something to do with the way the adults were staring uneasily at their children, and the way Miss Simone had an almost hungry look in her eyes.

Hal cleared his throat. “Miss Simone, tell us why we’ve been stuck here on this island all our lives. We know about the fog. We know it’s
supposed
to keep the virus out, if the virus is still Out There. But why couldn’t we just go to your world from the beginning, instead of staying here?”

Abigail nodded with satisfaction. That had evidently been her burning question too.

Miss Simone looked for a moment like she was going to argue, but then she sighed and nodded. “All right, Hal. The reason is that . . . well, the project . . .” She searched for words.

Hal’s mom broke in gently. “Hal, you and your friends are all very special children. We love you no matter what. But we’re in Miss Simone’s debt. Without her, you wouldn’t exist. Without her, you would never have been born. None of us were able to have children, but Miss Simone made it possible. And the reason she gave us this wonderful gift is because the good people of her world
need
you.”

“But only if you can change,” Miss Simone said. Then she glanced at Hal’s mom. “Sorry, Mrs. Franklin, I didn’t mean it that way. Of course you’re all welcome in my land regardless of whether the children are shapeshifters or not.” She turned back to Hal. “But you’re only
needed
in my land if you can change. Otherwise,” she said with a shrug, “you’re just a bunch of ordinary kids.”

One of the men cleared his throat. “But no offense intended, right, Simone?”

She reddened. “Uh, no, sorry. No offense intended. I’m not very good with children.”

Abigail clicked her tongue. “But you still haven’t explained why we had to stay
here
, on the island. Why couldn’t we have grown up in
your
world, this nice warm, sunny place you keep talking about, instead of this boring, depressing, foggy island?”

“Ah,” Miss Simone said. “That’s a technical matter. You see, for thousands of years our doctors have been working with willing parents to breed shapeshifters. We need shapeshifters in our land, and thus the parents of shapeshifters are thought of and treated like royalty—land and property in a beautiful countryside, a comfortable lifestyle forever . . . Trust me when I tell you that your parents will soon be retiring in great luxury.”

“And what about us?” Abigail asked, that defiant edge once more creeping into her voice. “What happens to
us
while our parents are living a life of luxury? Locked up in some laboratory, I suppose. Being stuck with needles and tested.”

Several horrified gasps filled the air. “Oh, Abigail!” Mrs. Porter said, her eyes filling with tears. “Is that what you think?”

“What are we
supposed
to think, Mother?” Abigail snapped, quivering with anger.

Hal tentatively reached for her hand, feeling awkward. “Let them explain,” he whispered.

Miss Simone’s eyes were wide. “Oh dear,” she said. “I seem to have given the wrong impression. I never was good with children. I’m a doctor, you see, and . . .” She looked at each of the classmates in turn. “Children, in my world, shapeshifters are heroes. There’s a diverse population of intelligent creatures there, each more dangerous than the next. Your own world has a diverse population too, a wonderful variety of animals, but none of the animals is smart or tenacious enough to be a threat to humans. You don’t see elephants ganging up to take over a village in India, laying claim to the land just because it’s a nice spot. You don’t see crocodiles charging tolls for use of boats on their rivers, just because it’s an easy way to make money. In your world, animals are humble and generally have no need for domination and power. Humans, on the other hand, feel they own the place and can do exactly as they wish, wherever they want, and if animals are driven out of their natural habitat in the process . . . well, so be it.”

There was a silence.

“You see,” she continued, “in my world there are perhaps just as many dumb animals as in yours, and these are no threat. But, unlike you, we also have a large number of
intelligent
species. In your world, humans always enjoyed being the only smart animals on the planet, but in ours, we have to share our world with numerous other creatures that are just as smart as us, if not smarter.”

She paused, looking around at her captivated audience. The goose bumps were prickling Hal’s arms again. He suddenly realized he was still holding Abigail’s hand, and she hadn’t even appeared to notice. Suddenly embarrassed, he gently let her hand drop.

“Sharing a world with all these smart creatures,” Miss Simone said, shaking her head, “is, frankly, very difficult. It humbles us, too. We humans strive to make peace and keep to ourselves. We try hard not to encroach or trespass on land occupied by others, even though sometimes contact is inevitable. For instance, we try to have an understanding with our neighbors, the centaurs, because we must share the same natural resources—the fresh water from the mountain stream, the excellent soil for crops, the shelter of the valley against the elements—but sometimes there are misunderstandings and we end up arguing. Many humans simply don’t like to share with so-called
inferior
species, never mind that centaurs are far smarter than us in many ways. But when it comes to settling issues and making pacts, centaurs are notoriously stubborn and simply
will not
negotiate over the smallest of matters, and tempers tend to flare quickly and frequently.”

Sighing with obvious frustration, Miss Simone began to pace in a slow circle before the children.

“Worse is our ongoing feuds with the dragons and the harpies, who refuse to leave us alone. One thing we humans and centaurs have in common is the fear of a dragon attack, which are often swift and vicious, resulting in a death or two. Or a harpy raid, where literally hundreds of harpies fill the air, their screams deafening. When harpies swoop, it’s mayhem—a mass of white feathers and yellow eyes and pungent smells, and when the chaos ends and the harpies have gone, we find most of our small livestock missing, crops ruined, clothes stolen from wash lines.”

Harpies. White feathers, yellow eyes.

Hal thought of Lauren and glanced across at her. Clearly she had made the same connection because she had shame written all over her face. Shame and embarrassment for what she was—a harpy. But Hal, despite being a dragon, felt nothing. He wouldn’t be joining in any attacks on villages, no matter what! And he very much doubted that Lauren would either.

“As for the manticores,” Miss Simone continued, “they’re just downright evil. They’re far more intelligent than dragons and harpies, and can hold a deep and meaningful conversation if the mood strikes them, but right afterward they’re liable to kill you. Still, we try to reason with these creatures. Even manticores have some degree of respect for a human wishing to negotiate terms of some kind. But not much. They’d sooner eat him than talk with him.”

A glimmer of understanding came to Hal. Dragons, harpies, manticores . . . it wasn’t just a coincidence that Miss Simone happened to mention these particular creatures. “You need our help to . . . to
talk
to them?”

Miss Simone stopped pacing and stared first at Hal and then at his classmates, one by one. “Yes. I need your help to negotiate with these creatures, these other species. You, my children, are emissaries of the human race. Not only will you be able to talk to them in their own language, you will feel
empathy
for them, and that will go a long way to helping us
understand
them and, in turn, will allow them to trust us a little more. For thousands of years we’ve been breeding shapeshifters to help keep order in our land. You are our next generation.”

There was a long silence. Finally Emily spoke, her voice cutting clearly through the still, cold air.

“But you
still
haven’t told us why we’re here on this foggy island instead of in your nice, sunny world.”

“Oh,” Miss Simone said. “Unfortunately, we can’t breed shapeshifters in my world. The air in your world is roughly twenty-one percent oxygen, a little less than our own. The lower oxygen in your world slows development, which is essential in the breeding of shapeshifters. If you had grown up in my world, you would have changed into dragons or ogres or harpies around the age of two and stuck in that form, essentially becoming those creatures and losing your human identities. The lower oxygen in your world does a fine job of slowing the process, allowing your minds and bodies to mature before the creature within manifests.”

Emily snorted. “You’re saying we’ve been stuck here on this foggy island because of a slight difference in oxygen? I don’t believe you.”