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seal,

down up down up goes my meal.

But I don’t care how bad I feel,

on the back of an elephant seal.

What a horrid way to feel, on the back of an elephant seal.

Isabelle was seasick. And being seasick is no fun at all.

If you made a list titled “Terrible Things That Are Temporary,” seasickness would rank higher than smashing your finger with a hammer, stubbing your toe so hard that the toenail falls off, or accidentally shooting yourself in the bottom with an arrow. It is very common to hear a person who is suffering from seasickness say, “Dear God, please kill me now.”

Isabelle felt like a spinning top. She swallowed hard, trying to keep the bile from coming. No use. She leaned over Neptune’s flank as far as she could and upchucked into the fog.

“What was that?” Sage asked, rubbing his eyes in confusion as Isabelle upchucked again. “Uh oh. You’re not used to this kind of motion.” He twisted around as far as he could.

“I feel horrible,” she said, wiping her mouth. “Could you take off this rope? It’s so tight around my waist. I think it’s making things worse.”

Sage shook his head. “Way too dangerous. You can’t swim, remember?”

Her gut spasmed. “Please. It’s pressing too hard.” She pulled at the rope but it didn’t loosen. She thrashed her legs as nausea washed over her. “Please take it off. I’m going to be sick again.”

“Okay, okay. Just don’t get sick on me.” He untied the rope.

Unfortunately, the rope’s release didn’t make her feel better. Water sloshed against Neptune’s sides as the last bits of bread sloshed in Isabelle’s stomach. Uh oh. UH OH!

“Be careful,” Sage said. “Don’t lean so far…”

And that was the last thing Isabelle heard before her head plunged underwater. It felt as if one of Mr. Supreme’s assistants had boxed her ears, so shocking was the icy ocean on her face. It took her a moment to realize that she had slipped off the seal. Faint ribbons of light shimmered all around. Salt water stung her eyes as she tried to figure out which way was up. She frantically pumped her legs and arms. Her lungs felt like they might explode. She no longer needed to upchuck—she just needed to breathe!

Something clutched the back of her kelp suit. Up, up, up she moved until she burst onto the surface. She took a huge breath, inhaling seawater as well. She coughed, spitting up the briny stuff.

With a huge groan, Sage pulled Isabelle onto the saddle, this time at the front. “Why did I listen to you?” he snarled. “I should never have untied that rope.”

“S… s… sorry.” Though her heart pounded and she still hadn’t caught her breath, the icy plunge seemed to have shocked the seasicknesses right out of her. She pushed her dripping hair from her face as Sage secured the rope. Neptune floated patiently.

“Th… th… thanks,” she stammered.

BAROOO!

A horn blasted through the fog. It sounded exactly like the umbrella factory’s horn. Oh no, Isabelle thought. Has Neptune gone in the wrong direction? Are we back in Runny Cove?

BAROOO!

Sage spun around. “It’s way too close,” he said. “Where is it? Help me look for it.”

“Look for what?”

Suddenly, an enormous wall of gray emerged from the fogbank. Taller than any boarding house, faster than any delivery truck, it barreled toward them. Isabelle clutched the saddlehorn. “What is it?”

“Trouble.” Sage kicked Neptune. “TURN!” he screamed. “TURN!”

Neptune undulated violently, moving away just in time.

SWOOSH! The enormous structure glided past. Big black letters were painted on its side: MAGNIFICENTLY SUPREME SHIPPING COMPANY. FOR THOSE WITH SUPREME TASTE WHO LIKE TO SHIP THINGS.

As quickly as it had emerged, the ship disappeared into the fog, leaving a wake that rolled beneath the seal. A quieter barooo sounded in the distance.

“This place is dangerous,” Sage said. “NEPTUNE! AWAY!”

Isabelle wanted to ask more questions, but the seasickness had drained her last bit of strength, as had almost being killed by a ship, losing a grandmother, and running away from Mama Lu.

This time she didn’t fight the nap. She leaned against Sage’s chest and drifted to sleep.

A whistle sounded, waking Isabelle from a dreamless sleep. She sat up. I’m going to be late for work. I can’t be late. That would mean extra hours piled on top of extra hours. She scrambled to her feet, instantly dizzy as blood rushed from her head. I can’t be late. I can’t be late.

As the dizziness cleared, Isabelle found herself standing, not in her vine-covered room, but on a low bluff overlooking a quiet inlet. A small fire crackled inside a ring of rocks. As a delicate rope of smoke arose, so did the memories of yesterday. Grandma Maxine was dead and Runny Cove was far away. Gwen and Leonard were far away too. But a new home and a new family awaited her. She was a tender and only a few people got to be tenders. At least that’s what the strange boy had told her. But she still didn’t know exactly what that meant. Tenders grow things. That didn’t seem like such a big deal. What good was growing mushrooms between your toes? Or lichen on your head? Hadn’t he said that someday she might be the last tender in the whole world?

The night had passed but she couldn’t remember a bit of it, not even how she had gotten to that bluff. She must have slept hard because a few pebbles had stuck to her cheek. She pulled off her kelp gloves and wiped the pebbles away. Yawning, she turned in a sleepy circle.

Sage was nowhere to be seen, nor was Eve the cat or Rolo the raven. Isabelle scanned the beach for Neptune but he seemed to be missing as well. Had they left her because she had gotten seasick? That’s a rotten thing to do, she thought, to leave a person in the middle of nowhere. She gasped. Could this be Nowhere? But where were the houses,

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