Pretty soon it was the day before the Announcement Banquet. After lunch, I decided I needed to get up into the mountains to get my mind off the expedition proposals.
I didn’t see any agents, so I left campus and started up the west slope trail that switchbacked up the far side of the mountain. It was the fastest but most challenging trail, especially with a little bit of snow on the ground, and I had to stop a few times to catch my breath.
I stopped and looked out at the vista. The sky was a cold blue, empty except for a single bird swooping and diving. For a moment, I was overcome by envy. Sukey had once told me that when she was flying, she felt like a bird, high above the silly concerns that preoccupied us on the ground. I watched as the bird hovered for a moment and then went into a steep dive. It must have seen a rodent or other prey on the ground. The bird spiraled through space until it had vanished from sight.
I kept hiking until I came out into a rocky clearing. Now it was just a mile along the ridge to the summit, and I breathed deeply, taking in the sharp scent of pine trees on the air. I buttoned my vest and then I saw the bird again, coming straight for me. I was starting to get nervous when I heard a voice from behind me call out, “Good girl, Njamba! Good girl!”
I recognized Joyce’s voice, and then I recognized her Kenyan Snake Falcon.
I called hello so she’d know I was there, and I heard a great flapping as Njamba flew into the woods. A few minutes later, Joyce, wearing leather hiking boots, Explorer’s leggings, and her navy-blue sailing jacket—which was covered with lengths of rope, a compass, a retractable spyglass, and various hooks and cords—came running up the path with the giant bird on her arm. Njamba was clutching a large rabbit in her talons.
“Hi, Kit!” Joyce said cheerfully, as though there was no one else she would rather have found on the path. “Look what Njamba caught!”
She took the struggling rabbit from the falcon’s talons, checked it, and then set it down on the ground. The rabbit ran away, disappearing into the woods.
The bird made a funny clucking noise in her throat. “She hates it when I do that,” Joyce said. “But it doesn’t seem right to keep it. We’re just training—she’ll eat later.”
“That rabbit would’ve probably tasted a lot better than whatever you’ll get for her from the dining hall tonight.”
She laughed. “You going all the way to the top?”
I nodded, and we started walking together.
“Are you looking forward to your first Announcement Banquet?”
“I guess,” I said, but not very convincingly.
“It’s fun. You’ll like it. And it is exciting to hear who’s been picked. What do you think of your chances?”
“Uh, fair to middling,” I said. “How about you?”
“Oh, I won’t be chosen. I’m pretty sure of it. I led an expedition last year. But this year, I want to set up a wildlife observation station and see if I can find evidence of elephant poaching. After Mountmorris’s speech, I know I don’t have a chance. Not much national security value in observing elephants—but it’s what I’m interested in. You should see these guys. They’re so intelligent. They use their trunks to communicate. They’re practically human. Besides, I’m not sure I’m . . . what they’re looking for this year. So how are you liking the Academy?”
“It’s fine,” I said. “I guess.”
She slowed down and turned to look at me, forcing me to tilt my head back to meet her eyes. She was almost exactly Zander’s height. Everything on the mountain was dead and finished, all white snow and dead trees, but Joyce’s face was full of summer light. There was a calmness about her that made me feel calm too.
“Don’t let Lazlo get to you,” she said. “Everybody knows how he is.”
“It’s not just Lazlo. It’s . . .”
“Everyone?” She smiled. “It does seem like you’ve gotten kind of an unfair shake. But don’t worry. The nice thing about the expeditions is that it gets you off campus and lets you get to know people in a different way. You’ll see. It’s hard coming in, not knowing anyone. A lot of the kids knew each other from before.”
“You must like it here,” I said. “I mean, you’re so . . .” I’d been about to say perfect, but then I lost my nerve, thinking it would sound as if I liked her too much.
“So . . . what?” Her eyes were full of mirth.
“It’s just—you do so well in all your classes. Everybody likes you. The Academy must be fun for you.”
Joyce smiled kindly at me, and I suddenly felt much younger than she was. “Do you know how I ended up at the Academy?”
“Not really. Your father was a ship’s captain in Kenya, right?” The path had gotten steep again, and I was already out of breath. Joyce was barely winded.
“That’s right. We’re from Mombasa, by the sea. That’s where I was born. He discovered a few shipping routes the government was interested in, and they offered him a big job at BNDL. We left Kenya when I was five. I still remember the smell of the sea and every corner of Papa’s ship, but I don’t remember anything from those first years in New York. It was cold and gray. Papa hated it. He realized they were never going to let him make any decisions that mattered. They wanted him for his contacts in Africa, because he could convince people to give up their rights to the fishing grounds, their knowledge of the sea, to establish the shipping routes. He waited until I started here at the Academy, and then my mother and father and brother went home. I understand why they left me: I’ll have more opportunities here. But sometimes I wish I’d gone back with them.”
“What would you do?”
“That’s the thing. As much as I love the sea, I didn’t really want to work for my papa. My brother will. I always wanted to be an Explorer. But . . .”
“But what?”
“But nothing ever turns out quite the way you think it will, does it? Now I feel far away from the boats and the sea and my family, but . . . I don’t know. I don’t like to think about it too much.”
We kept walking. Njamba led the way up into the colder, thinner air.
“Can I ask you something? Where were you for those couple of days after the attack on Francis Foley? What did they do with you?”
The muscles along Joyce’s jawline tightened. “They told us not to say anything, but I trust you. It was weird. They had us in this cabin they usually use for guests. It actually wasn’t too bad. The food was better than usual, and there were real beds, with good mattresses.” She smiled. “They asked a few questions about the explosion, but mostly they wanted to know about our parents, about people back home. They kept asking for names, details of people’s jobs, where they went to school. We left when I was five, so I didn’t have a lot, but Kemal was in there with them for two days. Maria Montoya too, and that Lundlandian kid from your sister’s year. It was really weird.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say.
“It’s okay. And you’ll get used to the Academy. There are some good people here. Sukey. Kemal.” She smiled. “Your brother and sister. You knew Sukey already, right?”
“Yeah.” I felt myself blush and hoped Joyce didn’t notice. “Lazlo, too, which is part of the problem.”
She smiled again. “Lazlo’s awful.”
“I think his father hates me even more than he does.”
“Everyone says Leo Nackley wanted to be head of BNDL. He was expecting he’d get it when Foley was promoted to head of ADR. And he’s mad that he didn’t. He’s probably taking it out on you. You just have to ignore the Nackleys.”
“That’s what Zander says. But Zander doesn’t seem to have any problem here. Everybody loves him.”
Joyce watched me for a moment as we hiked, her brown eyes thoughtful. “It’s true,” she said. “The amazing thing is that he doesn’t really care about what people think, does he?”
“No. He’s always been like that.”
I picked up the pace, and we hiked quickly up to the summit. Below us, we could see the campus spread out, the buildings like little toys. A steady stream of SteamCars and SteamTaxis were pulling up in front of the gates, and a couple of gliders and dirigibles already sat at the landing strip. The Grygia was there, too, casting a huge shadow.
“Looks like everyone’s arriving,” Joyce said. She sounded sad for a moment, and I realized that of course her parents wouldn’t be coming all the way from Kenya. “By tonight, we’ll know about the Final Exam Expeditions.”
“My stomach will be glad when the waiting’s over,” I said. We both watched as Njamba made wide, lazy circles in the sky.
“From up here,” Joyce said, “you’d never know that people are fighting and unhappy and sad and everything down there. Sometimes I wish I could just live up here with Njamba and never see another person.”
I let the silence settle around us.
Joyce whistled twice and we watched as Njamba, hearing the command, fell into a sudden dive, her body dark against the smoky white clouds that had started to gather over campus. She spread her wings and sailed silently towards us, clucking as she came to rest on Joyce’s shoulder.