Free Xander and the Lost Island of Monsters by Margaret Dilloway Page A

us.”
    â€œWhat if there’s a shark?”
    â€œI’ll punch its eye out.” Peyton stands up again. “Stop worrying so much.”
    â€œI’m not getting on your back, okay? No way.”
    Obāchan ignores our comments. She takes in a deep breath. Then she hurls the netsuke ship charm into the sea.
    It plops like a pebble and disappears.
    That was my favorite netsuke. Why’d she do that?
    Inu nudges my hand with his cold, wet nose.
Woof, woof!
    â€œWhat?” I say. He whines.
    I look where my dog’s looking. Hear the sound of rushing water, like a very large bathtub filling up.
    A great wooden shaft thrusts out of the water. A tree trunk, maybe? I blink, my brain trying to process all this new stuff and failing miserably.
    The ocean tries to shove the tree trunk back down, but it fights, bobbing, and finally the water spits the whole thing out.
    An enormous wooden ship bursts from the sea, sending a chest-high wave at me.

T he wave knocks me off my feet, flips me over. When I finally emerge, hacking, Obāchan is just standing there, smiling serenely, as if she’s seeing us off to school.
No big deal. I just threw a tiny charm into an ocean that wasn’t there before, and a huge boat appeared.
“Are you ready?” she asks.
    â€œFor what? To get on that?” I don’t want to move. The ship’s a few hundred yards offshore, at least. That’s like the length of three Olympic-size pools. I can’t even swim one. “Isn’t there a little rowboat to take us?”
    It looks like a wooden pirate ship. Last year, my class spent the night on the
Star of India
, an old ship moored in San Diego harbor, and we had to learn about this kind of vessel. The first thing they told us is that a ship like this needs a big crew to manage the sails and everything.
    The
Star of India
is more than two hundred feet long. I figure this one is about half that size. It has two masts and big white canvas sails. The taller mast has what I think is the Japanese flag flying from the top. Then I see that the giant circle isn’t red, but peach-colored.
    It’s Momotaro’s boat.
    â€œAm I asleep?” Peyton whispers.
    I punch his arm as hard as I can. He doesn’t even flinch. I pinch myself. Ouch. “Nope.”
    He nods, looking dazed. “All righty, then.”
    Inu jumps into the water and starts swimming. Peyton shrugs and dives in himself. Of course he would. It’s so easy for him, he might as well be crossing the street.
    â€œObāchan?” I say in the tiniest voice I’ve ever heard. “I can’t do this.”
    My grandmother’s beautiful face beams. “Sometimes, Xander, the best way to start something scary is to just jump in.” With that, my tiny, ancient grandma shoves me into the ocean.
    â€œWhoa!” Suddenly I’m in deep water. Flailing my limbs, I manage to keep my head in the air. “Aren’t you coming, too?” I call to Obāchan.
    â€œNo.” Obāchan takes a step backward. “Have faith, Xander. Faith and imagination.”
    Imagination, yes. Apparently my imagination is so great it works without me, drawing whole comic books and hilarious pictures of my enemies while I’m not paying attention. But the faith part—I have no idea what Obāchan means by that.
    Somehow I don’t think faith and imagination are going to kill any demons.
    I look toward the ship. Peyton and Inu are already there, Peyton helping Inu climb a rope ladder that’s dangling into the water. Inu grips each rung with his teeth as he scrambles ever higher.
    â€œAre you sure you can’t come with—” I turn back to my grandmother again.
    Obāchan’s gone.
    In fact, everything’s gone.
    My house is missing.
    Where it once stood there’s just barren, black, flat rock. A desert of rock. For as far as I can see. Not a single building or hill or stick of tree on it.
    I feel