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Sorry for the wait! I had a massive school project :( but it's over now so yay! :)

Chapter Eight: Heavier

As we sat together on the coastal shelf, millions of thoughts swarmed my brain. My thoughts were so heavy that I could barely move. I kept thinking about the island and the horrible storm that had taken us here, and the boat we had traveled on, and all the treachery at Hotel Denouement that had brought us here, and all the past treachery that had led to our current predicament. I could hear Count Olaf's loud snores from inside the birdcage and I was glad he had stopped calling out to us. I continued to think about the islanders abandoning us, and the apple core we had discovered, revealing Ishmael's dark secret. I thought about Kit Snicket and the storm that had brought her here. I wondered whether the Quagmires were affected by the same storm and how they were doing, and I wondered about the Great Unknown, and the schism. I thought about Klaus and wondered if I could ever trust him again, and I thought about my parents and all the mysteries that surrounded my name. Was life supposed to be this complicated?

"Jane," Klaus said, suddenly.

I looked at him in surprise, I felt as if I had woken up from a long, nightmarish dream. "What is it Klaus?"

He reached into his pocket, withdrawing his commonplace book from his pocket. "I lied to you before," he said, "I wasn't writing about the island's culture."

"What then?" I asked, curiously.

"When I read your notebook," Klaus said, "it inspired me to write about my own experiences. It's certainly compensated a bit for not being able to read anything. Of course, I've only written some parts. Mostly they're about you."

"Klaus…" I said, sadly because I realized how much he cared and that worried me. "I already told you that I'm not ready for that sort of thing."

"You said you couldn't trust me," he said, "and I suppose I don't blame you for that. I suppose I just want you to understand my side of things."

"Klaus, I—" I started.

"Please," he insisted, holding out his notebook.

I sighed. "Alright," I said, taking his notebook. "If you insist, I'll read it."

Before I could begin to open the notebook, an unfamiliar voice interrupted me.

"Where am I?" the voice asked, and as I turned to look in the direction of the voice, I realized it belonged to Kit Snicket. I could hear her rustling on top of the raft of books over Olaf's snoring.

"Kit!" Violet said, standing up quickly. "You're awake!"

"It's the Baudelaires," Klaus said.

"And Jamie Murray," I said.

"Baudelaires? Jamie Murray?" Kit repeated faintly. "Is it really you?"

"Anais," Sunny said, which meant "In the flesh."

"Where are we?" Kit said.

"We're on a coastal shelf," Violet said, although she neglected to mention that we had been abandoned there.

"There's an island nearby," Klaus said.

"It's inhabited by many castaways," I said, though I did not mention that a corrupt facilitator ruled it.

"Safe," Sunny said.

We seemed to all agree not to tell Kit the whole story yet.

"Of course," Kit murmured. "I should have known I'd be here. Eventually, everything washes up on these shores."

"Have you been here before?" Violet asked.

"No," Kit said, "but I've heard about this place. My associates have told me stories of its mechanical wonders, its enormous library, and the gourmet meals the islanders prepare. Why, the day before I met you, Baudelaires, I shared Turkish coffee with an associate who was saying that he'd never had better Oysters Rockefeller than during his time on the island. You must be having a wonderful time here."

"Janiceps," Sunny said, restating an earlier opinion.

"I think this place has changed since your associate was here," said Klaus.

"They certainly don't serve Oysters Rockefeller here," I said, "and they don't allow the islanders to read books."

"Hmm," Kit said thoughtfully. "Thursday did say that the colony had suffered a schism, just as V.F.D. did."

"Another schism?" Violet asked.

"Countless schisms have divided the world over the years," Kit replied in the darkness. "Do you think the history of V.F.D. is the only story in the world? But let's not talk of the past, children. Tell me how you made your way to these shores."

"The same way you did," Violet said. "We were castaways. The only way we could leave the Hotel Denouement was by boat."

"I knew you ran into danger there," Kit said. "We were watching the skies. We saw the smoke and we knew you were signaling us that it wasn't safe to join you. Thank you, Baudelaires and Jamie. I knew you wouldn't fail us. Tell me, is Dewey with you?"

I looked at the Baudelaires in despair. Her words sent shivers down my spine and I felt a terrible ache in my heart. I couldn't even begin to form words to explain such a tragedy to Kit when I could barely make sense of it myself.

"No," Violet said. "Dewey isn't here."

"Count Olaf, unfortunately, is here," I said, "He's locked in a cage."

"Viper," Sunny added.

"Oh, I'm glad Ink is safe," Kit said, and I thought they could almost hear her smile. "That's my special nickname for the Incredibly Deadly Viper. Ink kept me good company on this raft after we were separated from the others."

"The Quagmires?" Klaus asked. "You found them?"

"Were they reunited?" I asked, happy at the thought that maybe we would see Duncan, Isadora, and Quigley again. This time they would truly be triplets again.

"Yes," Kit said, and coughed a bit. "But they're not here."

"Maybe they'll wash up here, too," Violet said.

"Maybe," Kit said uncertainly. "And maybe Dewey will join us, too. We need as many associates as we can if we're going to return to the world and make sure that justice is served. But first, let's find this colony I've heard so much about. I need a shower and a hot meal, and then I want to hear the whole story of what happened to you." She started to lower herself down from the raft, but then stopped with a cry of pain.

"You shouldn't move," Violet said quickly. I was glad for an excuse to make sure Kit remained on the coastal shelf. "Your foot's been injured."

"Both my feet have been injured," Kit corrected ruefully, lying back down on the raft. "The telegram device fell on my legs when the submarine was attacked. I need your help, Baudelaires. I need to be someplace safe."

"We'll do everything we can," Klaus said.

I grimaced. This island was far from safe. Everywhere we went, danger seemed not too far away.

"Maybe help is on the way," Kit said. "I can see someone coming."

I turned to look in the direction Kit indicated to see a very small, yet bright light moving toward us from the west. As the light drew closer, I could see a few figures dressed in the typical white robes huddled, moving cautiously among the debris.

I glanced at the Baudelaires and noticed Klaus squinting at the light as if it were familiar. But as the figures became more recognizable, he looked disappointed as if he had been expecting one of his parents to show up at last, and protect us. I put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

The figures arrived at the cube of books, and we could see the faces of Finn, who carried the flashlight, and Erewhon, who carried a large, covered basket.

"Good evening, Baudelaires," Finn said. In the dim light of the flashlight she looked even younger than she was.

"We brought you some supper," Erewhon said, and held out the basket to us. "We were concerned that you might be quite hungry out here."

"We are," Violet admitted.

Although, I was glad to know they were concerned about us, I wished they had expressed that concern earlier today before Ishmael and the others, when they abandoned us on the coastal shelf. However, as Finn produced the onion soup, I did not want to turn this gift away no matter how disappointed I felt.

"Is there enough for our friend?" Klaus asked. "She's regained consciousness."

"I'm glad to hear it," Finn said. "There's enough food for everyone."

"As long as you keep the secret of our coming here," Erewhon said. "Ishmael might not think it was proper."

"Your secret is safe with us," I said, as I accepted the soup Erewhon gave me. I couldn't stop myself from digging in right away.

"I'm surprised he doesn't forbid the use of flashlights," Violet said, as Finn handed her a coconut shell full of steaming soup.

"Ishmael doesn't forbid anything," Finn said. "He'd never force me to throw this flashlight away. However, he did suggest that I let the sheep take it to the arboretum. Instead I slipped it into my robe, as a secret, and Madame Nordoff has been secretly supplying me with batteries in exchange for my secretly teaching her how to yodel, which Ishmael says might frighten the other islanders."

"And Mrs. Caliban secretly slipped me this picnic basket," Erewhon said, "in exchange for my secretly teaching her the backstroke, which Ishmael says is not the customary way to swim."

"Mrs. Caliban?" said Kit, in the darkness. "Miranda Caliban is here?"

"Yes," Finn said. "Do you know her?"

"I know her husband," Kit said. "He and I stood together in a time of great struggle, and we're still very good friends."

"Your friend must be a little confused after her difficult journey,"

Erewhon said the Baudelaires and I, standing on tiptoes so she could hand

Kit some soup. "Mrs. Caliban's husband perished many years ago in the storm that brought her here."

"That's impossible," Kit said, reaching down to take the bowl from the young girl. "I just had Turkish coffee with him."

"How strange," I said, thoughtfully. Friday's father was alive? Imagine if she knew. Would she be thrilled or crushed that such a huge secret had been kept from her?

"Mrs. Caliban is not the sort to keep secrets," Finn said. "That's why she lives on the island. It's a safe place, far from the treachery of the world."

"Enigmorama," Sunny said, putting her coconut shell of soup on the ground so she could share it with the Incredibly Deadly Viper.

"My sister means that it seems this island has plenty of secrets," Klaus said. I thought of my notebook and all the information it contained about our lives.

"I'm afraid we have one more secret to discuss," Erewhon said. "Turn the flashlight off, Finn. We don't want to be seen from the island."

Finn nodded, and turned the flashlight off. The Baudelaires and I glanced at each other one final time before the darkness engulfed us, and for a moment everyone stood in eerie silence, as if afraid to speak. Everything seemed scarier in the darkness and I found myself taking a step closer to the Baudelaires.

"Do you know the meaning of the word 'mutiny'?" she asked, in a calm, quiet voice.

History had always been one of my favorite subjects in school so I knew this word pretty well.

"A mutiny is when a group of people take action against a leader," Klaus answered as always.

"Yes," Finn said. "Professor Fletcher taught me the word."

"We are here to tell you that a mutiny will take place at breakfast," said Erewhon. "More and more colonists are getting sick and tired of the way things are going on the island, and Ishmael is the root of the trouble."

"Tuber?" Sunny asked.

'"Root of the trouble' means 'the cause of the islanders' problems,'" Klaus explained.

"Exactly," Erewhon said, "and when Decision Day arrives we will finally have the opportunity to get rid of him."

"Rid of him?" Violet repeated, the phrase sounding sinister in the dark.

"How?" I asked.

"We're going to force him aboard the outrigger right after breakfast,"

Erewhon said, "and push him out to sea as the coastal shelf floods."

"A man traveling the ocean alone is unlikely to survive," Klaus said.

"He won't be alone," Finn said. "A number of islanders support Ishmael. If necessary, we'll force them to leave the island as well."

"How many?" Sunny asked.

"It's hard to know who supports Ishmael and who doesn't," Erewhon said, and I could hear the old woman sip from her seashell. "You've seen how he acts. He says he doesn't force anyone, but everyone ends up agreeing with him anyway. But no longer. At breakfast we'll find out who supports him and who doesn't."

"Erewhon says we'll fight all day and all night if we have to," Finn said. "Everyone will have to choose sides."

I heard an enormous, miserable sigh from the top of the raft of books. "A schism," Kit said quietly.

"Gesundheit," Erewhon said. "That's why we've come to you, Baudelaires.

We need all the help we can get."

"After the way Ishmael abandoned you, we figured you'd be on our side,"

Finn said. "Don't you agree he's the root of the trouble?"

The Baudelaires and I were silent. I thought about Ishmael and all that we had learned about him. I thought of the way he had kindly allowed us to stay on the island, and then, how quickly he had decided to abandon us on the coastal shelf. I thought about how eager he had been to make the island safe, but also how eager he was to lock Count Olaf in that bird cage. I thought about Ishmael's dishonesty about his injured feet as well as his secret apple eating. However, as I thought about all of the positive and negative things Ishmael had done, there was still so much we did not know, and after hearing both Count Olaf and Kit Snicket talk about the history of the island, I knew that we did not know the whole story. On one hand, I could agree that Ishmael was the root of the trouble, yet I could not be entirely sure.

"I don't know," Violet said.

"You don't know?" Erewhon repeated incredulously. "We brought you supper, and Ishmael left you out here to starve, and you don't know whose side you're on?"

"We trusted you when you said Count Olaf was a terrible person," Finn said. "Why can't you trust us, Baudelaires?"

"Isn't there a better way to handle this kind of situation?" I asked. "The plan seems a bit drastic."

"It's a bit drastic to put a man in a cage," Erewhon pointed out, "but I didn't hear you complaining then."

"Quid pro quo?" Sunny asked.

"If we help you," Violet translated, "will you help Kit?"

"Our friend is injured," Klaus said. "Injured and pregnant."

"And distraught," Kit added weakly, from the top of the raft.

"If you help us in our plan to defeat Ishmael," Finn promised, "we'll get

her to a safe place."

"And if we don't?" I asked.

"We won't force you," Erewhon said, sounding like the facilitator she wanted to defeat, "but Decision Day is approaching, and the coastal shelf will flood. You need to make a choice."

"Well maybe we will stay out here," I said, looking to the Baudelaires for reassurance.

Klaus put a hand on my shoulder. "They're right, Jane," he said quietly so the others couldn't hear, "If the coastal shelf floods we could drown. And Kit needs help."

I sighed. "But I don't want to be apart of a schism," I said.

"What else can we do?" Violet asked.

If it were just me stranded out on this coastal shelf, then maybe I still would have declined their proposal. But I also had the Baudelaires to worry about and Kit Snicket. I couldn't be responsible for another Snicket's death. After witnessing the misery that followed the schism of V.F.D., I was not at all looking forward to participating in one myself. However, it was as if there was truly no choice at all. Just like Violet said, 'what else could we do?' I wondered how many other people had felt this way during the world's countless schisms, particularly my mother. Maybe she was not as bad as Olaf tried to make me believe. Perhaps she had been just like me, an orphan who had nothing, yet still had too much to lose and there was no way out.

"We'll help you," Violet said finally. "What do you want us to do?"

"We need you to sneak into the arboretum," Finn said. "You mentioned your mechanical abilities, Violet, and Klaus seems very well-read. All of the forbidden items we've scavenged over the years should come in very handy indeed."

"Even the baby should be able to cook something up," Erewhon said.

"And Jamie is a talented performer," Finn said, "Though I don't see how we can use that talent."

I looked down at the coastal shelf floor in shame.

"Jamie has plenty of talents," Klaus interjected. "She's brilliant and one of her many talents is writing."

"Then I'm sure she will be of use," Erewhon said.

"But what do you mean?" Violet asked. "What should we do with all the detritus?"

"We need weapons, of course," Erewhon said in the darkness.

"We hope to force Ishmael off the island peacefully," Finn said quickly, "but Erewhon says we'll need weapons, just in case. Ishmael will notice if we go to the far side of the island, but you four should be able to sneak over the brae, find or build some weapons in the arboretum, and bring them to us here before breakfast so we can begin the mutiny."

"Absolutely not!" cried Kit, from the top of the raft. "I won't hear of you putting your talents to such nefarious use, children. I'm sure the island can solve its difficulties without resorting to violence."

"Did you solve your difficulties without resorting to violence?" Erewhon asked sharply. "Is that how you survived the great struggle you mentioned, and ended up shipwrecked on a raft of books?"

"My history is not important," Kit replied. "I'm worried about the Baudelaires and Jamie."

"People make mistakes," I said. "But you learn from those mistakes. Yes, maybe Kit did some things she's not entirely proud of, but why then would you think such a strategy is okay. If you use weapons to take over the island you'll only appear as menacing as someone like Count Olaf. Is that really how you want to see yourself? Your greed and selfishness can only lead to an inevitable doom. You can change that if you act in a just manner. Haven't you ever seen or at least heard of the musical Les Misérables?"

"No," Finn said, "because Ishmael won't let us learn about musicals."

"I suppose there is something useful about being musically inclined," I said, crossing my arms firmly. "You can learn a lot from Les Mis. It's about the French Revolution—"

"We don't have time to worry about the French Revolution, Jamie. Acting in a peaceful manner has gotten us nowhere," Erewhon said. "Ishmael continues to pressure us into doing whatever he wants us to do. He's not going to listen without force."

"Jamie is right," Kit said, "you should listen to her, Baudelaires."

"She is right. But we're also worried about you, Kit," Violet said. "We need as many associates as we can if we're going to return to the world and make sure that justice is served."

"You need to be in a safe place to recuperate from your injury," Klaus said.

"And baby," said Sunny.

"That's no reason to engage in treachery," Kit said, but she did not sound so sure. Her voice was weak and faint, and I heard the books rustling as she moved her injured feet uncomfortably.

"Please help us," Finn said, "and we'll help your friend."

"There must be a weapon that can threaten Ishmael and his supporters,"

Erewhon said, and now she did not sound like Ishmael. We had heard almost the exact same words from the imprisoned mouth of Count Olaf, and I shuddered to think of the weapon he was hiding in the bird cage.

Violet put down her empty soup bowl, and picked up her baby sister, while Klaus took the flashlight from the old woman. "We'll be back as soon as we can, Kit," the eldest Baudelaire promised. "Wish us luck."

The raft trembled as Kit uttered a long, sad sigh. "Good luck," she said finally. "I wish things were different, children."

"So do we," Klaus replied, and the Baudelaires began to follow the narrow beam of the flashlight back toward the island. After a moment they paused, looking back to see that I was not with them. "Come on, Jane," Klaus said. "Aren't you coming?"

I shook my head. "I can't go," I said. "My parents didn't save my life so I could waste it on some violent mutiny."

"But what about Kit?" Violet asked.

"I don't know," I said. "But maybe she's right. And even if the coastal shelf floods, the result could not be nearly as bad as this plan. I've been alone all my life and I'm not going to allow people to pressure me into doing things anymore. That's how I nearly died in that forest fire, and that's how I ended up as Olaf's henchwoman. Just stand with me, and we can help Kit together."

"We are helping Kit," Violet said. "If we stay out here, we could perish."

"Please come with us," Klaus said. "We don't want to abandon you out here."

"Debara," Sunny said which meant, "We've been torn apart before by this misery. We don't want that to happen again."

"If Ishmael were to die," I said, "the entire island would erupt into a civil war. We'll only be encouraging more chaos. I mean, now we're just retrieving weapons. What are they going to make us do next, assassinate Ishmael? Things are only going to worsen from this."

"I know," Klaus said. "But we don't have any other choice."

I sighed. "I guess so," I said. I suppose I knew it was inevitable, yet there was no way around it. We were all alone in this world and the best we could do was find a way to survive in it. We couldn't fail Kit the way we had failed so many other people. I thought about what happened to Dewey and I feared having another person's death on my hands. "No matter how I feel about the mutiny, I don't want it to separate us."

The Baudelaires nodded. "We will," Klaus promised. He held out his hand and although things were a little awkward between us after I rejected him, I placed my hand in his.

So we set out to the island together, our footsteps made small splashes on the coastal shelf, and I heard the quiet slither of the Incredibly Deadly Viper, loyally following us on our errand. The moon and stars had disappeared, covered in clouds from the recent storm, unless they were signaling a new one. The entire world seemed to vanish outside the secret flashlight's forbidden light. With each damp and uncertain step, I felt heavier, my thoughts weighing me down as I carried them to the arboretum, where all the forbidden items lay waiting for us. I thought about the islanders, and the mutinous schism that would soon divide the colony in two. I thought about Ishmael, and wondered whether his secrets and deceptions meant that he deserved to be at sea. And I thought about the Medusoid Mycelium that was now in Olaf's grasp, and wondered if the islanders would discover that weapon before we could build another. We traveled in the dark, and as we drew closer and closer to the island that had abandoned us, my thoughts grew heavier and heavier, and I began to wish that things were different and that maybe there was another choice.

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