Leviathan

THIRTY-FIVE

Alek’s sadness had been obvious from the beginning, Deryn reckoned.

She’d seen it when he’d woken her up the night of the wreck, his dark green eyes full of sorrow and fear. And yesterday when he’d told her about being an orphan—she should have known from his silences how raw the heartache was.

But now it was all in the open, tears running down his face, his sobs heavy. Somehow, revealing himself had loosened Alek’s mastery of his sadness.

“Poor boy,” Deryn said softly, kneeling beside him. Alek was huddled against the cargo box, his face buried in his hands.

“I’m sorry,” he snuffled, looking ashamed.

“Don’t be daft.” She sat beside him, the box warm at her back. “I went half mad when my da died. Didn’t talk for a month.”

Alek tried to say something, but failed. A hard swallow wracked his frame, as if his throat were glued shut.

“Shhh,” Deryn said, and pushed a lock of hair from his face. His cheeks were wet with tears. “And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

Not about his crying, nor who he really was. That was obvious now. She’d been a ninny not to see it before. Alek had to be the son of that duke fellow who’d started all this. Deryn remembered the day she’d come aboard the Leviathan, hearing how some aristocrat had got himself killed, riling up the Clankers.

All this bother over one barking duke, she’d thought so many times. Of course, it probably didn’t seem that way to Alek. Having your parents die was exactly like the world exploding, like a war being declared.

Deryn remembered after Da’s accident, her mother and the aunties trying to turn her back into a proper girl— skirts, tea parties, all the rest. As if they wanted to erase the old Deryn and everything she’d been. She’d had to fight like mad to stay who she was.

That was the trick—to keep punching, no matter what.

“The boffin will get the captain on our side,” Deryn said softly. “And then we’ll be out of here in no time. You’ll see.”

Not that she was entirely sure that Alek’s engine plan would work. But anything was better than sitting here hoping for a lucky breeze.

Alek swallowed again, trying to get his voice back.

“They poisoned them,” he finally managed. “They tried bombs and pistols first, to make it look like Serb anarchists. But it was poison in the end.”

“And it was just a way to start this war?”

He nodded. “The Germans thought the war had to come. It was just a question of when—and the sooner the better for them.”

Deryn started to say that sounded barking crazy, then remembered all the crewmen who’d been so eager for battle. She supposed there was always some sod spoiling for a fight.

But it still didn’t make sense. “Your family are in charge of Austria, aren’t they?”

“For the last five hundred years or so, yes.”

“So if the Germans killed your da, why is Austria helping them instead of giving the kaiser a good kicking? Doesn’t your family know what really happened?”

“They know—or at least suspect. But my father wasn’t very popular with the rest of the family.”

“What in blisters did he do wrong?”

“He married my mother.”

Deryn raised an eyebrow. She’d seen family squabbles over who the children married, but they usually stopped short of bomb-throwing.

“Are your relations completely barking mad?”

“No, we’re rulers of an empire.”

Deryn reckoned that amounted to pretty much the same thing, but didn’t say so. Talking about it seemed to be helping Alek get control, though, so she asked, “What was so wrong with her?”

“My mother wasn’t from a ruling house. She wasn’t exactly common, mind you—she had a princess among her ancestors. But to marry into the Hapsburgs you have to be proper royalty.”

“Well, of course,” Deryn said. Alek’s superior manner suddenly made a lot more sense. She supposed that with his father dead the boy was a duke on his own—or an arch-duke, which sounded even loftier.

“So when they fell in love,” he said softly, “they had to keep it secret.”

“Well, that’s dead romantic,” Deryn exclaimed. When Alek gave her a funny look, she lowered her voice a bit and added, “You know, sneaking about.”

Something like a smile appeared on his face. “Yes, I suppose it was, especially the way my mother told it. She was a lady-in-waiting for Princess Isabella of Croÿ. When my father began to visit, Isabella thought he must be courting one of her daughters. But she could never figure out which one he liked. Then one day he left his watch behind on the tennis courts.”

Deryn snorted. “Aye. Back home I’m always leaving my watch on the tennis courts.”

Alek rolled his eyes at her, but kept talking. “So Isabella opened the watch, hoping to find a picture of one of her daughters inside.”

Deryn’s eyes widened. “And there was a picture of your mother instead!”

Alek nodded. “Isabella was very cross. She dismissed my mother from service.”

“That’s a bit rough,” Deryn said. “Losing your job just because some duke fellow likes you!”

“Losing her ‘job’ was the least of it. My granduncle, the emperor, refused to permit the marriage. He wouldn’t even talk to my father for a year. It rattled the whole empire. The kaiser, the czar, even the Holy Father tried to patch things up.”

Deryn raised an eyebrow, wondering again if Alek was mad, or simply full of blether. Had he just said that the pope had meddled in his family business?

“But finally they came to a compromise—a left-handed marriage.”

“What in blazes does that mean?” she said.

Alek wiped the tears from his face. “They could marry, but the children could inherit nothing. As far as my granduncle is concerned, I don’t exist.”

“So you’re not an archduke or anything?”

He shook his head. “Just a prince.”

“Only a prince? Blisters, that’s rough!”

Alek turned to her and narrowed his eyes. “I don’t expect you to understand, Dylan.”

“Sorry,” she muttered. She hadn’t really meant to make fun of him. The family split had cost Alek his parents, after all. “It just all sounds a bit odd.”

“I suppose it is,” he sighed. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“Of course not.” She stuck out her hand. “Like I said, your family’s no business of ours.”

Alek smiled sadly as they shook. “I wish that were true. But I’m afraid we’ve become the whole world’s business.”

Deryn swallowed, wondering what that must be like— to have your family squabble turn into a barking massive war. No wonder the poor boy looked so stricken all the time. Even if none of it was Alek’s doing, tragedies always scattered seeds of guilt in bucketfuls.

Deryn still replayed Da’s accident in her mind a dozen times a night, imagining what more she could have done to save him, wondering if somehow the fire had been her fault.

“You know you’re not to blame, right?” she said softly. “I mean, to hear Dr. Barlow tell it, it took a hundred politicians to stuff things up this bad.”

“But I’m what split my family,” Alek said. “I unsettled everything, and that gave the Germans their opening.”

“You’re more than just that, though.” Deryn took his hand. “You’re the one who came across the ice to save my bum from frostbite.”

Alek looked at her, wiped his eyes, and smiled. “Maybe that too.”

“Alek?” came Dr. Barlow’s voice from nowhere, and the boy jumped half into the air.

Deryn smiled as she stood, pointing at the message lizard up on the ceiling.

“The captain has agreed with your proposal,” the beastie continued. “Please meet me at your walking machine. We need at least two translators to coordinate our engineers with your men.”

Alek just sat there staring up at the lizard in horror. Deryn smiled and pulled him up. “It’s waiting for an answer, you dafty.”

He swallowed, then said in a nervous voice, “I’ll be there as soon as I can, Dr. Barlow. You should also ask Count Volger for help. He can speak perfectly good English when he wants to. Thank you.”

“End message,” Deryn added, and the beastie scampered off.

A shudder went through Alek. “I’m still not used to talking animals, I’m afraid. It seems a bit ungodly, making them so much like human beings.”

Deryn laughed. “Have you never heard of parrots?”

“That’s quite different,” he said. “They’re meant to speak that way. But I … want to thank you, Dylan.”

“For what?”

Alek raised his empty hands, and for a moment Deryn thought he would cry again. But he only said, “For knowing who I am.”

He put his arms around her then, a rough embrace that lasted only a moment. Then he turned and hurried from the machine room, headed for the fallen Storm-walker.

As the door swung shut, Deryn shivered, the strangest feeling creeping through her. Where Alek’s arms had wrapped around her shoulders an odd kind of tingling was left behind—like the crackle along the airship’s skin when distant lightning kindled the sky.

Deryn put her own arms around herself, but it didn’t feel the same.

“Barking spiders,” she muttered softly, and turned to check the eggs again.