thinking, I took a step back.
“Fine. Let’s say I agree to this airship. Why are you so worried about it?”
He threw a look of stern annoyance at Keen, who was rising from her nap on the trunk with a look of groggy confusion.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice slurry with sleep.
“I’m filling Anne in on the fine accommodations you’ve secured.”
Keen chuckled, stuck her hands in her pants pockets, and beamed that one, extraordinary smile. She looked far too proud of herself for any good to come of the situation.
Casper sighed and pointed into the clouds. I followed his finger to an enormous metal-clad behemoth of an airship—one of the biggest. The body was brass, shining dully with the lemon-yellow rays of the morning sun. Beneath it hung a large sort of box, which was painted with the gargantuan image of a mostly naked woman draped over a swoopy couch. Large, curlicued letters spelled “A.S. Maybuck.”
“Is that woman . . . ?” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Yes, she is. As are many of the passengers. The Maybuck is Sang’s largest—and only—floating brothel. And we’re expected on the deck in half an hour for launch.”
11
They didn’t have to carry me kicking and screaming—not until we were right under the Maybuck . I balked then, and Casper had to drag me firmly by the arm while Keen stayed close enough behind me that I couldn’t run back down the long, narrow ramp that led to the docking platform. When it was our turn to embark, I stepped onto the lift and collapsed to the muddy planks with my eyes squeezed shut.
“Sit on me,” I whispered.
Casper snorted. “Won’t you have me beheaded for that?”
“Not this time.” It came out as a whimper.
Keen had no such trepidations and planted her skinny rump right in the middle of my back. I exhaled gratefully, hugging the boards and moaning. Casper got down on his haunches and peered into my face.
“Care to explain your sudden collapse, niece?” He was trying not to laugh—but not trying too hard, I noticed.
“I don’t want to fly away and fall down,” I explained. “If the wind caught in my skirts, a fierce gale could send me over the edge to my death.”
“There’s a railing.”
“I’m very small. I weigh practically nothing.”
“Me, neither!” Keen shouted, bouncing up and down and leaving what I was sure were permanent corset-shaped indentations in my back.
“I won’t be so helpless one day,” I growled.
“Me, neither!” She stopped bouncing and all but ground me into the boards.
With a sudden lurch and a metallic squeal, our platform began to rise. I closed my eyes again.
“Hold my hand.”
My voice came out tiny and plaintive, and Casper leaned closer. “Was that an order?”
“Hold my hand, please?”
He chuckled and sat on the boards near my head, curling both of his hands around one of mine. Even through the gloves, he was warm, and it was his calming touch more than Keen’s insignificant weight that kept me in place.
In all my planning of revenge and ultimate victory, it somehow hadn’t been clear to me that getting from Sangland to Muscovy was going to involve either sea or air. It would have been easier if I had still been unconscious and securely buckled inside a valise. At least I wouldn’t have been this terrified and had my weaknesses broadcast to the world. I turned my head to the side and dashed away a red-tinged tear before anyone could see it. At least Reve had provided gloves of a deep, rusty brown, handy for concealing both today’s tears and the stains from last night’s snack.
Ascending to the airship proper took eons. Ages. Epochs. Dragons roamed Sangland again by the time the platform finally shuddered to a halt and I heard the sound of metal clipping into place as it was fastened to the airship deck.
Keen leaped up, and Casper helped me stand. The platform swayed slightly, and I clung to him, legs wobbling.
“My niece gets vertigo,” he said to
“Fine. Let’s say I agree to this airship. Why are you so worried about it?”
He threw a look of stern annoyance at Keen, who was rising from her nap on the trunk with a look of groggy confusion.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice slurry with sleep.
“I’m filling Anne in on the fine accommodations you’ve secured.”
Keen chuckled, stuck her hands in her pants pockets, and beamed that one, extraordinary smile. She looked far too proud of herself for any good to come of the situation.
Casper sighed and pointed into the clouds. I followed his finger to an enormous metal-clad behemoth of an airship—one of the biggest. The body was brass, shining dully with the lemon-yellow rays of the morning sun. Beneath it hung a large sort of box, which was painted with the gargantuan image of a mostly naked woman draped over a swoopy couch. Large, curlicued letters spelled “A.S. Maybuck.”
“Is that woman . . . ?” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Yes, she is. As are many of the passengers. The Maybuck is Sang’s largest—and only—floating brothel. And we’re expected on the deck in half an hour for launch.”
11
They didn’t have to carry me kicking and screaming—not until we were right under the Maybuck . I balked then, and Casper had to drag me firmly by the arm while Keen stayed close enough behind me that I couldn’t run back down the long, narrow ramp that led to the docking platform. When it was our turn to embark, I stepped onto the lift and collapsed to the muddy planks with my eyes squeezed shut.
“Sit on me,” I whispered.
Casper snorted. “Won’t you have me beheaded for that?”
“Not this time.” It came out as a whimper.
Keen had no such trepidations and planted her skinny rump right in the middle of my back. I exhaled gratefully, hugging the boards and moaning. Casper got down on his haunches and peered into my face.
“Care to explain your sudden collapse, niece?” He was trying not to laugh—but not trying too hard, I noticed.
“I don’t want to fly away and fall down,” I explained. “If the wind caught in my skirts, a fierce gale could send me over the edge to my death.”
“There’s a railing.”
“I’m very small. I weigh practically nothing.”
“Me, neither!” Keen shouted, bouncing up and down and leaving what I was sure were permanent corset-shaped indentations in my back.
“I won’t be so helpless one day,” I growled.
“Me, neither!” She stopped bouncing and all but ground me into the boards.
With a sudden lurch and a metallic squeal, our platform began to rise. I closed my eyes again.
“Hold my hand.”
My voice came out tiny and plaintive, and Casper leaned closer. “Was that an order?”
“Hold my hand, please?”
He chuckled and sat on the boards near my head, curling both of his hands around one of mine. Even through the gloves, he was warm, and it was his calming touch more than Keen’s insignificant weight that kept me in place.
In all my planning of revenge and ultimate victory, it somehow hadn’t been clear to me that getting from Sangland to Muscovy was going to involve either sea or air. It would have been easier if I had still been unconscious and securely buckled inside a valise. At least I wouldn’t have been this terrified and had my weaknesses broadcast to the world. I turned my head to the side and dashed away a red-tinged tear before anyone could see it. At least Reve had provided gloves of a deep, rusty brown, handy for concealing both today’s tears and the stains from last night’s snack.
Ascending to the airship proper took eons. Ages. Epochs. Dragons roamed Sangland again by the time the platform finally shuddered to a halt and I heard the sound of metal clipping into place as it was fastened to the airship deck.
Keen leaped up, and Casper helped me stand. The platform swayed slightly, and I clung to him, legs wobbling.
“My niece gets vertigo,” he said to
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