2 The Whistling Whale

Chapter 2 The Whistling Whale As the helm whirled around, Wind Rider began to rock. Max covered his eyes against the raging wind with one hand. Through his fingers, he saw green leaves swirl past. Then blue sky. Then charcoal-colored rocks—no, mountains. The wind was much colder than it had been a moment ago. Beside him, Sofia laughed out loud. It's like a ride at the fair! she thought, squatting to keep her balance. But when the wind slowed, she popped up like a jack-in-the-box.

She admired the sailboat's polished deck and crisp white sails. Wind Rider looked brand-new! The wooden helm gleamed, and the seagull that had perched there was gone. He'll be back, Sofia knew. As the wheel spun to the left, her eyes flitted toward the coast. Cliffs rose through the mist toward the gray sky above. "Look at those rocks!" she cried. Max followed her gaze. The charcoal rocks looked like tall, skinny blocks perched on a dark sea. "Is that black water?" he asked. Sofia pushed her bangs aside. "Black sand, I think," she said. "I saw some when my family went to Saint

Lucia in the Caribbean. The sand was made of the lava from volcanoes." She shivered. "But this place is too cold to be a Caribbean island! Where are we?" Max pointed toward the trapdoor that led belowdecks. "I know how to find out," he said with a grin. "The atlas!" said Sofia. "Of course!" In their past adventures, the magical atlas in Wind Rider's cabin had always shown them exactly where they were. Together, they raced belowdecks. Sofia slid down the metal ladder and darted past the tidy galley kitchen. Past the polished dining table and chairs and the round portholes above. She skidded to a stop in front of a thick atlas resting on a table. As the pages of the book fluttered, Sofia held her breath. The book fell open to the map of a large island. "Iceland!" she shouted—so loud that Max jumped. "I'm right behind you!" he said, laughing. But his own heart raced as he peered at the page. "Wow, maybe we'll see the northern lights. Grandpa's brother went fishing in Iceland once, and he said he saw the whole sky light up!"

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"Or maybe we'll swim in a hot spring," said Sofia. "The water comes out of the ground hot. I read that people in Iceland sometimes use it to heat their houses!" "Wait," said Max. "We could see if Wind Rider has given us any clues about what we're doing here." He pointed at the elegantly carved sea chest in the corner. "Right," said Sofia. "Let's take a look!" The magical old chest always held the gear they would need for their adventure. The lid creaked as Max peered inside. "Brrr. Looks like we're heading into the cold," he said, pulling out a couple of parkas. "And into the water!" He reached for

two sets of waders—long rubber pants with attached boots and shoulder straps. Max had worn them before when Grandpa had taken him river fishing. "What's in these?" asked Sofia, lifting two blue backpacks out of the chest. She unzipped one and pulled out several rolled-up towels. "Uh-oh. We really are going to get wet!" Max dug past the towels in the second backpack and found a shovel and gloves. "Looks like we'll be doing some digging, too. But this is an awfully short shovel." He