Leviathan

FORTY

The pistons were the trickiest bits to draw. There was something about the way they fit together—the Clanker logic of them—that blistered Deryn’s brain.

She’d been sketching the new engines all afternoon, imagining the drawings in some future edition of the Manual of Aeronautics. But even if no one ever saw them, the warm day was excuse enough for lounging here. The airship was only a hundred yards above the water, the afternoon sun bouncing from the waves and setting everything aglitter. After three nights shipwrecked on a glacier, it seemed the perfect afternoon to lie in the ratlines, soak up the heat, and draw.

But even with the Mediterranean Sea stretching out in all directions, the Clankers never seemed to relax. Alek and Klopp had been busy down on the pods since noon, fashioning windshields to protect the engine pilots. That’s what they were calling themselves—pilots, not engine men or any proper Air Service term. They’d already forgotten that the real pilots were on the bridge.

Then again, she’d heard it rumored that the ship didn’t need pilots these days, Darwinist or Clanker. The whale had developed an independent streak, a tendency to choose its own way among the thermals and updrafts. Some of the crew wondered if the wreck had rattled the beastie’s attic. But Deryn reckoned it was the new engines. Who wouldn’t feel feisty with all that power?

A bee was crawling across her sketch pad, and she waved it away. The hives had come out of their three-day hibernation hungry, gorging themselves on the wildflowers of Italy as the Leviathan headed south. The strafing hawks looked fat and happy this afternoon, full of wild hares and stolen piglets.

“Mr. Sharp?” came the master coxswain’s voice.

Deryn almost snapped to attention. But then she saw the message lizard staring at her, its beady eyes blinking.

“Please report to the captain’s quarters,” the lizard continued. “Without delay.”

“Aye, sir. Right away!” Deryn winced as she heard her voice squeak like a girl’s. She lowered it and said, “End message.”

Gathering her pad and pencils as the beastie scampered away, Deryn wondered what she’d done wrong. Nothing bad enough to earn an audience with the captain—not that she could remember. Mr. Rigby had even commended her on taking Alek hostage during the Stormwalker attack.

But her nerves were twitching nonetheless.

The captain’s quarters were up near the bow, next to the navigation room. The door was half open and Captain Hobbes sat behind his desk, the wall charts rustling in the warm breeze from an open window.

Deryn saluted smartly. “Midshipman Sharp reporting, sir.”

“At ease, Mr. Sharp,” the man said, which only made her more nervous. “Please come in. And shut the door.”

“Aye, sir,” she said. The captain’s door was a solid piece of natural wood, not fabricated balsa, and it thumped shut with a heavy finality.

“May I ask you, Mr. Sharp, your opinion of our guests?”

“The Clankers, sir?” Deryn frowned. “They’re … very clever. And quite determined about keeping those engines running. Good allies to have, I’d say.”

“Would you? Then it’s lucky they aren’t officially our enemies.” The captain tapped his pencil against the cage that sat on his desk. The carrier tern inside it fluttered, its tongue slipping out to taste the air. “I’ve just learned that England is not at war with Austria-Hungary, not yet. At the moment we need only concern ourselves with the Germans.”

“Well, that’s handy, sir.”

“Indeed.” The captain leaned back and smiled. “You’re rather friendly with young Alek, aren’t you?”

“Aye, sir. He’s a good lad.”

“So he seems. A young boy like that needs friends, especially having run away from home and country.” The captain lifted an eyebrow. “Sad, isn’t it?”

Deryn nodded, saying carefully, “I suppose so, sir.”

“And all quite mysterious. Here we are at their mercy, mechanically speaking, and yet we don’t know much about Alek and his friends. Who are they, really?”

“They are a bit cagey, sir,” Deryn said, which wasn’t a lie.

“THE CAPTAIN’S QUARTERS.”

“Quite so.” Captain Hobbes picked up the piece of paper before him. “The First Lord of the Admiralty himself has become curious about them, and requests that we keep him informed. So it might be useful, Dylan, if you kept your ears open.”

Deryn let out a slow breath.

This was the moment, of course, when duty required her to tell the captain all she knew—that Alek was the son of Archduke Ferdinand, and that the Germans were behind his father’s murder. Alek had said it himself: This wasn’t just family business. The assassinations had started the whole barking war, after all.

And now Lord Churchill himself was asking about it!

But she’d promised Alek not to tell. Deryn owed him that much, after setting the sniffers on him the first time they’d met.

For that matter, the whole barking ship owed him a debt. Alek had revealed his hiding place to help them fight the zeppelins, giving up his Stormwalker and a castle full of stores. And all he’d asked in return was to stay anonymous. It seemed impolite for the captain even to be asking.

She couldn’t break her promise—not like this, without even talking to Alek first.

Deryn saluted smartly. “I’m happy to do whatever I can, sir.”

And she left without telling the captain any of it.

That evening when she went to find Alek on egg duty, the machine room was locked.

Deryn gave the door a couple of loud raps. Alek opened it and smiled, but he didn’t stand aside.

“Dylan! Good to see you.” He lowered his voice. “But I can’t let you in.”

“Why not?”

“One of the eggs is looking pale, so we’ve had to rearrange the heaters. It’s all very complicated. Dr. Barlow said that another person in the room could affect the temperature.”

Deryn rolled her eyes. As Constantinople drew closer, the lady boffin grew more and more protective of her eggs. They’d survived an airship crash, three nights on a glacier, and a zeppelin attack, and yet she seemed to think they’d shatter if anyone looked at them sideways.

“That’s a load of yackum, Alek. Let me in.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! We’re keeping them close enough to body temperature. Another person in there won’t hurt.”

Alek hesitated. “Well, she also said that Tazza hasn’t had a walk all day. He’ll be tearing down the walls of her cabin if you don’t see to him.”

Deryn sighed. It was amazing how the lady boffin could be so tiresome without even being in the room.

“I’ve got something important to tell you, Alek. Shove aside and let me in!”

He frowned but relented, letting her squeeze past into the sweltering machine room.

“Blisters, are you sure it’s not too hot in here?”

Alek shrugged. “Dr. Barlow’s orders. She said the sick one needed to be kept warm.”

Deryn looked at the cargo box. Two of the surviving eggs were nestled together at one end; the other was alone in the middle, surrounded by a pile of glowing heaters— far too many. She took a step forward to check the thermometer, then frowned. They were Dr. Barlow’s barking eggs. If she wanted to cook them, fine.

Deryn had more important things to worry about.

She turned to Alek. “The captain called for me today. He asked about you.”

Alek’s face darkened. “Oh.”

“Don’t worry. I didn’t tell him anything,” she said. “I mean, I wouldn’t break my promise.”

“Thank you, Dylan.”

“Even though he …” She cleared her throat, trying to sound casual. “He told me to keep an eye on you, and said I should tell him anything I find out.”

Alek nodded slowly. “He gave you a direct order, didn’t he?”

Deryn opened her mouth, but no words came out—something was shifting inside her. On her way here she’d hoped Alek would give her permission to tell the captain, solving the whole dilemma. But now an entirely different desire was creeping into her mind.

What she really wanted, Deryn realized, was for Alek to know that she’d lied for him, that she would go on lying for him.

She suddenly had that feeling again, the same as when Alek had told her his parents’ story—a crackling in the overheated air. Her skin tingled where he’d hugged her.

This wasn’t going right at all.

“Aye. I suppose he did.”

Alek sighed. “A direct order. So if they find out you’ve hidden my identity, they’ll hang you as a traitor.”

“Hang me?”

“Yes, for consorting with the enemy.”

Deryn frowned. In all her weighing of promises and loyalties, she hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Well … not quite the enemy. We’re not at war with Austria, the captain says.”

“Not yet. But from what Volger’s heard on the wireless, it’ll only be a week or so.” He smiled sadly. “Funny, all those politicians trying to decide if we’re enemies or not.”

“Aye, barking hilarious,” Deryn murmured. She was the one standing here, not some politician. This was her decision. “I promised, Alek.”

“But you also took an oath to the Air Service, and to King George,” he reminded her. “I’m not going to make you break that oath. You’re too good a soldier for that, Dylan.”

She swallowed, shifting on her feet. “But what will they do to you?”

“I’ll be locked up tight,” Alek said. “I’m too valuable to let escape into the wilds of the Ottoman Empire. And when we get back to England, they’ll put me somewhere safe until the war’s over.”

“Blisters,” she said. “But you saved us!”

The boy shrugged. The sadness was still in his eyes. Not brimming over into tears again, but deeper than she’d ever seen it.

She was taking his one squick of hope away.

“I won’t tell,” she promised again.

“Then I’ll have to give myself up,” Alek said sadly. “The truth has to come out sooner or later. No point in you getting yourself hanged.”

Deryn wanted to argue, but Alek wasn’t making it easy. He was right about disobeying orders in wartime. It was treason, and traitors were executed.

“This is all Dr. Barlow’s fault,” she grumbled. “I wouldn’t have found out who you were if she weren’t so nosy. She’s not telling either, but of course they’d never hang a clever-boots like her.”

“No, I suppose not.” Alek shrugged again. “She’s not a soldier, after all. On top of which, she’s a woman.”

Deryn’s mouth dropped open. She’d almost forgotten— the Air Service wouldn’t hang a woman, would they? Not even a common soldier. They’d boot her out, certainly, take away everything she’d ever wanted—her home on this airship, the sky itself. But they’d never execute a fifteen-year-old girl. It would be too barking embarrassing.

She felt a smile on her face. “Don’t worry about me, Alek. I’ve got a trick up my sleeve.”

“Don’t be stupid, Dylan. This isn’t one of your madcap adventures. This is serious!”

“My adventures are all barking serious!”

“But I can’t let you take the risk,” he pleaded. “Enough people have died because of me already. I’ll go with you to the captain now and explain everything.”

“You don’t have to,” Deryn argued, but she knew Alek wouldn’t listen. He wouldn’t believe she was safe from hanging unless he knew the truth. Strangest of all, she almost wanted to tell him, to trade her secret for his.

She took a step closer.

“They won’t hang me, Alek. I’m not the soldier you think I am.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

Deryn took a deep breath. “I’m not really a—”

A sound came from the door—the jangling of keys. It opened and Dr. Barlow strode in, her eyes darkening as they fell on Deryn.

“Mr. Sharp. What are you doing here?”