Volanta

Pippa couldn't sleep. She sat up in her bed with her blanket around her shoulders, staring out her little window at the island as it grew closer and closer. Her heart beat faster as she looked at it, excitement mingling with a shiver of fear. She had been sure they would find it, but she hadn't expected it to send out a storm and wash away half the crew. She still felt cold; could still taste salt water in her mouth no matter how many times she rinsed it out. There was something dark and hungry about that speck of green and brown on the horizon. Pippa sensed that there was more to it than Roland Fishweiler had described in the adventures of Barty Brave.

Pippa dozed fitfully through the night, waking often from dreams where pale, bloated corpses covered in seaweed tried to drag her beneath the surface of black, roiling water. She didn't get any proper sleep until the sun had begun to rise, and she couldn't have slept more than an hour or two before there was a knock at her door. Groaning and mumbling a curse, she tossed her blanket off and shuffled to the door. She threw it open and glared sleepily at her unwanted wake up call.

"What?" she yawned, trying to rub the tiredness from her eyes.

"Uh, we're getting close to the island now," Oliver said. His ears were slightly red and he was carefully not looking at her. Pippa looked down and realized she was still wearing nothing but her thin night dress and she rolled her eyes.

"Don't be a prude, Otter." She closed the door in his face, then quickly opened it again, startling him. She darted out of her room and hugged him. That seemed to startle him even more. She drew back after just a moment, tugging nervously on a stray lock of red hair.

"Thank you," she said. "For yesterday. For...saving me."

"Oh." Oliver's face turned as red as his ears. "Well. You're welcome. Are you all right?"

"Fine," she said quietly. "I'd better get ready; I'm sure the captain will want us all topside soon."

"Right." Oliver nodded, already backing away from her. Pippa closed her door again, combing her hair and pinning it up in a sensible bun before getting dressed and making her way up to the top deck.

"Feeling all right this morning, Miss Glasswell?" Captain Sorenson asked as she emerged. "We were worried we had lost you for a moment there yesterday."

"I'm fine, thank you. It's going to take more than a bit of sea water and foul weather to get rid of me."

"Glad to hear it."

The island was no longer a dot in the distance; she could now make out a beach of soft white sand and lush green trees. The water here was calm and clear; a dazzling pale blue like she had always imagined a tropical paradise would have. Even from here she could hear the faint sounds of birdsong and smell something sweet.

"We'll be ready to drop anchor and head ashore within the hour," Peter said, appearing next to her. "I'm glad to see you're up and around. Takes a lot to scare you, doesn't it?"

"I suppose it does," Pippa said, eyes still on the island. Despite the tingle of unease niggling at the back of her mind, she was still thrilled that they had found the island after all. "I knew it had to be here. Almost drowned or not, I wouldn't hide away and miss this."

"I bet this place is awfully romantic at night," Peter remarked, shooting her one of his teasing smiles. Pippa took a tiny step away from him.

"Or else cold and full of bugs," she said primly and he laughed. Nothing seemed to discourage him. Pippa returned below decks and rummaged through her trunks for some essentials she didn't want to be without, stuffing everything into a small rucksack and climbing back up the stairs in time for everyone to take to the life boats and head for shore. She peered down over the side into the water, seeing some brightly colored fish darting around.

"What exactly are we looking for here?" Peter asked.

"We'll know when we find it," Oliver muttered, poring over Roland's journal for what seemed like the three hundredth time. Peter just grunted, unimpressed. As soon as they hit the shore Pippa was the first one out of the boat, holding her skirt up as she landed in the water. It was warm; nothing like the icy deluge that had almost killed her. Some of those pretty little fish swam around her ankles, and she couldn't help but laugh in delight. She held her shoes in her hand as she climbed up onto the sand, curling her toes in it.

Everything was so colorful and vibrant. The breeze was gentle and smelled fresh and invigorating. It was hard to believe this was the origin of the violent storm they had sailed through, though Pippa could still sense something beneath the beauty and the calm. She wondered if the Nthuri or anyone else still existed here. She wondered if they sent the storm or if this island itself was somehow a living, sentient thing beyond their understanding.

"We need to proceed with caution," Oliver said, seeming to feel a bit more confident now that he had been proven right about the island's location. "The journal warns that not everyone and everything on the island is friendly toward strangers."

Pippa could tell some of the crew were skeptical, but they had already lost a lot of men to the storm and now threw wary looks toward the jungle. She couldn't help but wonder herself if they would lose more men as their quest went on. She hadn't expected anyone to die on this venture.

"We'll try to stay within sight of the beach for now," Captain Sorenson said. "If there's trouble, we come straight back here. And we stick together."

No one seemed inclined to argue with him, though as the day progressed and they scouted the beach and the jungle, they seemed to relax. They found delicious fruit to eat, an even came across some spotted little monkeys frolicking around in the trees. Everyone got a good laugh when a monkey and one of the men; Pippa thought his name was Dwayne; reached for the same piece of fruit. They looked at each other in surprise for a moment before the monkey squeaked indignantly and tried to poke him in the eye. He fell out of the tree with a thud and a loud curse and the monkey scampered away victoriously, the fruit stuffed in its mouth.

They made camp on the beach, not wanting to lose sight of the Good Fortune yet. Dwayne and the curly haired cabin boy built a fire while Peter made a grand show of catching some fish. He returned triumphant and sopping, declaring that they'd be better than the dried and salted rations they ate on the ship. Pippa curled up inside her sleeping roll, staring up at the stars. She had never seen so many; it was like there almost wasn't enough sky to hold them all. As her eyes picked out constellations, she frowned and cocked her head. They were there, but they weren't where they should be. As if the sky were reversed somehow. She sat up and squinted at the sky, trying to puzzle out this mystery.

As she glanced around she realized Oliver was sleeping near her, the open journal lying on his chest.

"Ollie," she whispered. "Otter, wake up."

He didn't move and Pippa huffed, climbing out of her sleeping roll and crawling over to him. She poked him hard in the side, and he flinched, jerking in his sleep.

"Oliver," she hissed, poking him again. "Wake up."

His eyes opened slowly, and he yelped faintly to find her leaning over him. Her hair had come mostly out of its bun and the ends were tickling his face.

"What?" he croaked as she sat back.

"Look at the sky," she whispered. "Doesn't something seem wrong to you?"

"The sky?" Oliver looked baffled.

"Otter, the constellations are backwards," she said, pointing. "It's like looking at them through a mirror."

He frowned as he came more awake, seeing what she was seeing.

"Remarkable," he said finally. He flipped to the back of the journal and jotted some notes on a blank page. Feeling oddly proud of herself, Pippa murmured good night and crawled back to her own sleeping roll, staring up at the backwards stars until she fell asleep.

For two days they explored only close to the beach, trying to get a better feel for the island. But despite Oliver's warnings, the remaining crew began to feel more relaxed. It was hard to stay worried in a place like this. The company began moving further into the jungle, searching now for signs of anyone else living on the island; currently or in the past. The jungle was thick, and none of them were entirely sure how large the island was.

They were returning from camp in the evening of their third day when they heard the yowling from the trees. They all drew to a halt and Peter pulled a gun from his waistband.

"It's an animal of some kind," he said quietly.

"It sounds like it's in pain," Pippa said, brushing past him to follow the sound. Peter and Oliver both hissed her name and Captain Sorenson asked what the devil she thought she was doing. But Pippa stepped out of the trees into a small clearing and found a cat caught in a trap. No, not a regular cat. As she drew closer she could see the black spots on yellow fur. It was a jungle cat; a leopard. But a very tiny one. A lost baby with its law caught in a rope snare.

"Oh!" Pippa exclaimed, dropping down beside the wriggling, crying creature.

"Pippa, don't get close to it," Peter said, approaching cautiously. "It could hurt you."

"It's a baby," Pippa said dismissively. She dug in her sack for a knife her father had given her before she left. She cut the ropes and scooped the little leopard into her arms. His ankle was rubbed raw from trying to get out of the trap and Pippa cradled him like an infant.

"Well fine then, you've freed him. Now put him down and send him on his way," Sorenson said.

"I will do no such thing," Pippa said fiercely. "The poor thing is skin and bone. He's a baby, and he's lost his mother. I'm going to take care of him."

She held the leopard protectively, one of her hands fluttering up unconsciously to touch her mother's locket.

"Take care of him?" Sorenson repeated. "Miss Glasswell, he's a wild animal-"

"I'm taking care of him," she repeated stubbornly.

"There's no sense in arguing with her," Oliver sighed. "You might have better luck telling the sun not to rise or making a mountain move out of your way."

Pippa continued to hold the leopard, cooing to him as she carried him back to camp and bandaged his paw.

"I think we'll call you...Jasper," she said. "What do you think of that, hm?"

The leopard licked her fingers in response, purring as she petted his head.

"Jasper it is, then," she laughed. She glanced over at Oliver. "You know, someone had to set that trap," she said. "That's proof of someone living here, right?"

Oliver nodded, looking more eager than she'd seen him since they started this journey. He had been muttering to himself and scribbling on the blank pages of the journal since they got back to the beach. Pippa knew he barely slept because the scratching of his pen kept her up most of the night too.

The next day they traipsed deeper into the jungle than they had ever gone before and came across a gently flowing river.

"I don't think we should stop here," Oliver said as a couple of men knelt to splash cool water on their faces.

"Afraid of a bit of water, Doctor?" Peter smirked. "Don't worry, we'll pull you out if you fall in."

Oliver turned red, glaring at Peter. "I'm not worried about falling in," he snapped. "And I can swim just fine. It says in the journal that the river is dangerous-"

"All rivers can be dangerous," Peter interrupted. Oliver's jaw clenched and Pippa touched his arm gently.

"We don't know what's on this island," she said. "We shouldn't stop being cautious just because we've gone a few days without-"

She broke off as a shape moved in the water, breaking the surface. It was a snake; and larger than she has ever imagined a snake being. Its gold and black coils glistened as its massive head moved with unnatural speed and snatched one of the men right off the bank, swallowing half of him and pulling the rest of him into the water. He never even had time to scream.

The others were trying to scramble away from the water and Peter had his gun out again, eyes scanning the river for signs of the snake. He spotted it as it whipped up again and fired at it. It flailed wildly as a bullet tore into it but it still lunged for Peter, who frantically backed away, firing again. The snake fell, partially in the water and partially on land, huge forked tongue lashing the air.

Pippa realized she was gripping Oliver's arm tightly and he was steering her away from the river.

"Where are the others?" she panted. Jasper was clutched tightly against her chest, his ears flattened as he growled in alarm.

"I don't know," Oliver said, looking grim and shaken. "Everyone scattered."

"Oliver, I feel like this isn't the way we came-" Pippa screamed as they pushed through a stand of trees and found there was no ground beneath their feet. They tumbled down a steep hillside and Pippa tried to curl her body around Jasper to keep him safe. Her rucksack dug painfully into her back and sides as she tumbled, then she came to a jarring halt as her head struck something hard and abruptly the world went black.