The group dragged the leaky boat up onto the sandy beach of the island they had made landfall on. Even in the dark of night, Wily could see that this island was quite different from the one they had previously been stranded on. The beach was made of black sand dotted with amethyst boulders. There were no trees (screaming or otherwise) to be seen, only tall grass that was higher than Wily’s head. Even the small crabs that scurried across the sand looked nothing like the ones that had tried to make a home in Wily’s locks. The small crustaceans each had one giant claw and one that was tiny. The island smelled different too. The scent of sweet fruit mixed with dried kelp sat heavy in the air.
“This doesn’t look promising,” Kestrel said, examining the damage to the boat.
“We have plenty of extra sealing wax,” Odette said, holding up a shell full of the sticky substance.
“But we will need new planks to patch this up,” Kestrel pointed out, “and I don’t see any trees to get wood from.”
Wily looked back at the island and realized he was right.
“Maybe there’s some on the far side of the island,” Roveeka said hopefully.
“We’ll be able to see better when the sun comes up in a few hours,” Kestrel said.
He took a seat in the sand, pressed his back up against the wooden hull of the boat, and closed his eyes. The rest of the group found spots to rest as well. Wily was certainly not going to sleep at all. He had already caught his father doing strange things while others were sleeping. He couldn’t let him get away with doing anything else. But despite watching Kestrel until the break of dawn, or perhaps because of it, his father didn’t do anything else suspicious.
As the sky began to change colors with the coming of the sun, Wily heard a low hum. The sound was similar to the noise the rot flies would make when they swarmed in circles around the leftover meat decomposing on the cave floor. Only this noise was much louder, and getting louder with every second. Wily looked around to see what was responsible for the sound. Just then, he saw something whoosh overhead and land on his back. Before he could turn, he felt a sharp poke on his neck and a flash of intense pain.
“Ow!”
He turned to see a mosquito the size of a hummingbird perched on his shoulder. Its needle-like sucker was stuck deep into his flesh, slurping out blood.
“Get it off me!” Wily screamed, putting an end to everybody’s slumber.
Righteous was the first to react. The arm shot forth, grabbed the bug in its ghostly fist, and tugged it free. Wily winced as the long poker was drawn from his skin.
“There’s one on me too,” Odette shouted. Wily turned to see that not one, but two had landed on Odette and were prodding her for a drink of blood.
“These horrid bugs want to suck us dry,” Kestrel said.
“They don’t seem interested in me,” Roveeka said as one of the bloodsuckers flew right by her. “It must be my tough hobgoblet skin.”
“Or maybe,” Odette said as she tumbled in the sand to rid her back of the pests, “your blood tastes like mold juice.”
“Can’t be,” Roveeka said. “If that were the case, I bet every single one of them would want to eat me.”
Moshul batted the mosquitoes away from Pryvyd and Odette with the back of his muddy hand as they continued to swarm around the companions.
“Travelers from the mainland,” an elegant voice rang out from the trees, “welcome to the Isle of Delight!”
Moments later, an entire party of beings was standing before them. It was impossible to tell what species they were because they were shrouded in layers of thin netting from the tops of their heads all the way down to their feet. It reminded Wily of the few times in Carrion Tomb when the residents dressed in bedsheets for the festival of Glothmurk and Wily could not tell who was who.
“Gaskar,” the leader of the group continued with a gentle lilt, “shoo the vectrites away.”
One of the shrouded locals placed a candle in the sand and lit it with a piece of flint stick. A thick cloud of pungent vapor rose from the smoking candle. The vectrites quickly scattered.
“They are vicious little bugs,” the cloaked leader said.
“Not so little actually,” Odette said.
“What good fortune brings you here?” he continued.
“Our ship was struck by a turtle dragon and sprang a leak,” Wily said, pointing to the grounded vessel. “This island was the nearest piece of land.”
“Oh, so you had an encounter with Prickleback,” the voice replied from beneath the netting. “You’re not the first. She’s a very curious turtle dragon. Not a particularly cross gal, but she’ll toss a ship just to watch the sailors scramble.”
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Roveeka spoke up, “why are you wearing that net over your head?”
“To keep the vectrites away,” the net-covered native said. “They can’t get their suckers through the mesh. In the afternoon, they’re pretty aggressive.”
“Worse than the morning?” Pryvyd said, scratching a rapidly growing welt that was expanding at the bite point on his shoulder.
“That will be an itchy one,” the netted leader said as he pulled the thin fabric up from his feet to above his head. “But as the philosophers say, the only true comfort is found in the mind.”
Wily was shocked by what he saw underneath the net: webbed hands, spikes down the arms, and a head that resembled a fish’s. This eloquent islander was an oglodyte.
“You’re an oglodyte?” Wily asked more as a statement than a question.
“And you’re very observant,” the oglodyte said. “Why does it shock you so?”
Wily explained how the two oglodytes he knew best, Sceely and Agorop, were both dim-witted, unpleasant buffoons.
“I see,” the oglodyte said. “Well, I’m happy to say that we’re not all alike. My name’s Jayrus. Of the Hammock oglodytes.”
“You really are very different,” Wily said.
“I am so embarrassed that those two are representing our kind poorly,” Jayrus said. He then looked to the vessel. “Can I send my friends over to inspect the damage to your boat?”
A pair of the netted oglodytes stepped forward. Wily led them down to the edge of the water, where they proceeded to examine the ship. They surveyed the damage caused by Prickleback (although it was hard to imagine how they could see anything at all through the layers of white mesh).
“It’s quite bad,” one of Jayrus’s companions said as she ran her hidden hand over the outside of the boat.
“Rotten indeed,” another oglodyte concurred. “You won’t be making it far with a hole like this.”
“We need wood to patch it up,” Kestrel said, lifting his hands so that the vines binding his wrists were visible. Jayrus looked over at the makeshift cuff suspiciously. Kestrel explained it away with a simple explanation. “I did something I shouldn’t have done.”
“We all make mistakes,” Jayrus responded. “Now about that wood. I’m afraid all the trees were cut down this past spring. But we have plenty of nets back at the camp. You can live with us until the trees grow back. It shouldn’t be more than thirty years or so.”
“That’s a very kind offer,” Wily said. “But we plan on leaving here as soon as we can and continuing on our journey. We need to return to Panthasos.”
“Why would you want to go back there?” Jayrus replied. “Last time someone stopped by from the mainland we heard it was being ruled by a truly horrible king wearing a helmet with three points.”
Wily quickly turned to Kestrel, waiting to see his response. His father did not flinch at the description. Instead he spoke quite calmly. “It had been. But things have changed. Now it is ruled by kind people who would never cause harm to others. Unless a new evil mage takes over.”
“Yes, well,” Jayrus seemed to consider. “It sounds like a pretty mixed-up place, if you ask me. Glad I’m here and not there.”
“We just need a few planks of wood,” Wily said. “Perhaps you have some spare pieces we could have.”
“Unfortunately, no,” Jayrus said as he lowered the netting over his body again. “All the wood was used to build the ship moored in the hidden lagoon. We didn’t need any of the wood ourselves so we let him have it.”
“Wait … wait,” Odette spoke up. “Did you say there is an already-built ship?”
“Yes,” Jayrus said. “One large enough to sail a hundred across the deepest sea.”
“We don’t need to repair our boat,” Odette said. “We would be happy to borrow the hidden ship in the lagoon.”
“It doesn’t belong to us,” Jayrus explained slowly, as if speaking to a child, which in fact he was. “The ship is the property of the Recluself. He’s a bit of a loner and doesn’t associate with others.”
“Tell us more about this Recluself,” Kestrel said.
“He was the former engineer for the Brine Baron,” Jayrus said. “During one of their sea journeys, he drank a little too much nectar and fell off his master’s ship. He washed ashore many years ago, and our tribe rescued him. He was not a big fan of the vectrites, just like you are not. So he locked himself away in the caves with the scatbats, which have a real taste for the vectrites.”
“And he built a boat?” Wily asked.
“As the former engineer of the Brine Baron,” Jayrus explained, “he was quite good at putting things together on his own. In the years he has been down there, he has constructed the most beautiful vessel. And it is just sitting there, waiting to be sailed.”
“Then why hasn’t he left?” Odette asked.
“Don’t know for sure,” Jayrus replied. “And we haven’t really asked. He doesn’t like visitors. Thinks we might drag in vectrite eggs. He’s locked up the place very tightly. Only once or twice have oglodytes been able to sneak in for a peek.”
“Locked up the place with traps?” Kestrel asked.
“Very tough ones,” Jayrus remarked. “Very hard to get past them.”
“I think we have that covered,” Roveeka said as she turned to both Wily and his father. “Doubly so.”
Wily looked at his father skeptically as he used his knuckles to scratch the ever-expanding bump on his shoulder.
“Please point us in the direction of the Recluself’s cave,” Pryvyd said.
“Of course,” Jayrus said. “But I think you might want some nets before you go anywhere.”