Atlantis in Peril by T. A. Barron

discovered it yet.”
    Karpathos blinked in confusion. Tugging worriedly on his soggy mustache, he protested, “But, Captain, sir—”
    A cry interrupted him. It came from a young sailor who had volunteered to be lashed to the mast to see greater distances. Though the sailor’s voice was barely loud enough to be heard above the din, his words rang out like a harbor bell.
    â€œAn island! I see an island!”
    Sure enough, an imposing island was starting to take shape through the spray. Its sheer cliffs jutted out of the ocean; from its center rose a mass of thickly forested hills. A beam of sunlight fell directly on that forest, making it shine like a crown of luminous green.
    â€œExactly as my dream foretold,” Reocoles muttered to himself. “The island whose riches I am destined to control.”
    Suddenly, the ship lurched sideways—so forcefully that Reocoles lost his grip on the wheel. He tumbled backward, landing on top of Karpathos. Before they could untangle themselves, another great wave crashed over them, sending them skidding across the deck.
    The wheel, meanwhile, spun ceaselessly. For a powerful current now gripped the ship, spinning the craft in ever-tightening circles. A ring of waves lifted all around, surging skyward, blocking out any view of the island.
    It was then that the sailor lashed to the mast raised his voice again. He shouted just one word—a word feared by sailors across the ages:
    â€œWhirlpool!”

CHAPTER 9
    Jaladay’s Vision
    M uch had happened on Earth since Promi’s abrupt departure from his family. But for those he’d left behind on the dome-shaped cloud . . . only a few minutes had passed.
    Sammelvar, Escholia, and Jaladay traded anguished glances. None of them spoke. What was there to say after those angry outbursts?
    Kermi, still asleep at Jaladay’s feet, snored soundly. Other than that, and the rustle of the wind moving across the purple honeyscent flowers covering the cloud, there was no sound. Until, at last, Sammelvar raised his voice.
    â€œI never thought,” he said as he gazed at his wife, “that when we regained this realm . . . we would also lose our son.”
    Escholia’s eyes widened. “We haven’t lost him. He just needs to find himself. And then, I believe, he will find us.”
    â€œI agree.” Jaladay adjusted the band that covered her eyes. “Right now, what I feel most in Promi is
longing
. It’s even stronger than his rage or pride or resentment.”
    â€œWhat is he longing for?” asked Escholia.
    Jaladay inhaled slowly. “He just wants to be free . . . and loved. Same as all of us.”
    The elders traded glances, then Sammelvar said, “He deserves both. I only hope that he grows . . . bigger. True freedom means a lot more than just doing whatever you please. It means helping your world be the very best it can be.”
    â€œHe will,” declared Jaladay. “I’m sure of it.”
    At that moment, Kermi woke up. Opening his big blue eyes, he stretched all four furry limbs, as well as his long tail. With a sleepy sigh, he gazed up at the others and asked, “Did I miss anything?”
    â€œNo,” answered Jaladay as she bent to pick up the blue kermuncle. Cradling him in one arm, she added, “Just a huge family fight.”
    Kermi nodded knowingly. “So I take it Promi was here?”
    Jaladay smiled sadly. “He was.”
    â€œI wonder,” mused Sammelvar as he scanned the thousands of flowers surrounding them, “whether the creatures on all these little worlds have the same sorts of problems we have.”
    â€œI’m sure they do,” replied Escholia. “And I’ll bet they seem equally daunting.”
    Gazing at the luminous purple bridge connecting two flower worlds, Sammelvar said wistfully, “Someday I would like to walk upon that bridge and see where it