Rise of the Isle of the Lost (Descendants 3)

“I might have,” said Harry. “But now you’ve gone and ruined it. I suppose I’ll have to come up there and help you out. It does take two to unfurl a sail. You know that, don’t you?”

She didn’t. She hadn’t the faintest idea of how any of this worked. She only wanted to get to the trident as quickly as was possible, and if that meant a bit of mast-climbing, she’d do it. She’d already made it past the hard part, right?

The boat leaned again, answering her question. This time she was ready, though, and wrapped her arms tightly around the mast. She wasn’t going to let her feet slide from the pegs a second time.

Harry was snickering again.

She had half a mind to stab him when he reached her.

He held one peg tightly, balancing himself. “You’re going to squeeze that mast in two if you hold on to it any tighter,” he said.

She immediately loosened her grip and regained her composure.

“So tell me how all of this works,” she ordered. Each time the ship rocked, the mast swayed wildly, hurtling them through the air. Like being launched from a slingshot, she thought, her hands wrapping a bit more tightly around the pegs again. At this height, there were rope ladders too—a great number of ropes actually, all of them running back and forth between the mast’s various arms. There was more to grab on to, more to catch if she fell. She supposed she was a little safer at this altitude, but who knew.

“See that rope?” Harry pointed to a tightly wound bit of cord. “Unwrap it on your side, and I’ll do the same on mine. Just hold the last little bit. Don’t let the whole thing loose…” he said, but she had already unwound the rope. It was easy enough. She simply pulled the rope from the sail and cast it off.

Unfortunately, Harry hadn’t even started to unfurl his end of the sail. So the end she had set free caught the wind, jerking the boat toward its starboard side, which was a boating term that Harry would not stop using. Isn’t it just called the right side? she had thought over and over again, but now the word was in her head and she was using it.

“This would have been a bit easier if you had waited,” Harry said grumpily.

“Got that,” she said. The boat was turning rapidly to one side, threatening to pull them off course, but Harry was quick, his fingers nimble. The sail pulled at the ropes, tightening them, but somehow he managed to get the rope unwound, and the entire sail billowed gorgeously into the air.

The ship righted itself.

“Next time we do it together!” he exclaimed, and Uma made no argument. She was eager to get to the necklace and the trident, but she’d already twice seen where a bit of overeagerness got her. She’d nearly fallen into the drink (as pirates called the sea) and partially driven them off course. I think it’s time to listen to directions, she thought.

Uma hated directions. She gave orders; she didn’t follow them.

But she climbed to the next sail as Harry directed. This one had a plank behind it and a rail, so it was easier to balance as she undid the ropes.

“Wait,” said Harry.

“I know. I’m not an idiot.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Now!” he cried, and they both let loose the next sail. This one blossomed into a perfect half circle, snapping tight in the wind. They undid one more and then moved to the rear, where there were three more sails to unfurl. All in all, it was a lo

t of work, but each time a sail caught the wind, she felt their speed increase. By the time they’d unfurled the last of them, they were moving at quite a clip—the boat dashing across the waves, sometimes almost skipping from peak to peak.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” she said as they climbed down the last mast, the mizzenmast, as he’d called it.

“You did nearly fall into the ocean,” Harry reminded Uma. “Twice.”

The boat rocked once more, as if it too were reminding her of what happened. It swung back in the other direction, and both of them spun, catching each other and holding on to the mast to avoid falling to the deck. The increased speed had also added a bit more instability to their ride, making it slightly more dangerous. When the boat rocked, it did so with incredible force. It pitched again, and even Harry went fumbling for something to hold on to. Fortunately, sailing ships are webbed with ropes. He caught one or two and steadied himself.

“Lost your sea legs?” Uma asked.

“Even a good sailor needs a handhold every now and then.”

She nodded as if she didn’t believe a word he’d said.

“Oh, stop it—don’t we have a treasure chest to find?” Harry pointed out.

They did. She’d almost forgotten about it.

Uma stared out over the ocean. She knew the trident was there, and she also knew she was not the only one looking for it. But they were moving faster now, and she had to hope that they would find it first.