CHAPTER 7
IN WHICH NADYA MEETS THE LORD SECRETARY OF FAR AGONDY, AND LEARNS SOMETHING WORRISOME.
The next morning starts with a loud knock at my door. I sit up slowly, wincing. My shoulder feels like I yanked it out of its socket, the Lady feels like she got caught in a mousetrap, and my hands and arms and stomach and legs and pretty much everything else is sore.
“Come in!” I say, starting my slide out of bed. It’s a cool morning, but the sun must’ve burned off the mist outside the ship, judging by the light trickling in through the curtains over my porthole. I hear shouting and the rumble of cranes—it’s always loud during the day in port, no matter where we are or what’s going on.
I reach for my crutches against the headboard and hit nothing but air, then remember I left them under Tian Li’s bed and cringe. I’m not done hiding yet if it’s Nic or Thom at the door.
Luckily, it’s Pepper.
She looks tired, and pretty grumpy. Her overalls are rumpled and sloppy with engine grease, and her curls are matted and gnarled on one side, like she’s been lying on the ground working under something.
She’s holding my crutches, which she sets against the foot of my bed. “Hi,” she says. “Glad you’re okay.” Then she turns around and starts to go.
“Wait, Pep!” I say, and she stops. “Come in for a second, would you?”
She stares at me, then sighs and walks to my bed.
“What happened last night?” I ask.
Pep looks at her feet. “Nic got mad at me. Real quiet, real stern, like he does sometimes.” Her lips quiver. “‘I’m so disappointed in you,’ he said. ‘I expected this from Nadya. But not from you.’” She wipes her eyes. “And then he told me I’m not allowed to leave the ship while we’re in port, and that if I break the rules again, the consequences will be worse next time.” She yanks on one of her curls. “I knew it was a dumb idea. But I heard everybody else going and I didn’t want to be left out.”
I swallow. I want to hug her, but I’m not sure she’d want me to so I don’t. “Thanks for taking the heat like that,” I mumble. “That was really brave.”
Pep shakes her head. “We shouldn’t have been down there, Nadya! What’d we figure out that we couldn’t have during the day, without breaking the rules? Nothing.”
I chew my thumbnail for a second, thinking. “Well, we wouldn’t have all been there at the same time, so it would’ve taken way longer to put our heads together. It might’ve been days before we figured out what happened.”
“You didn’t know that when you went,” Pep snorts. “And so what? We’ve got days. I’ve sure got days, stuck here on the ship. I was really looking forward to meeting Gossner when you and Tam go ask about your prosthesis. She sounds so cool when he talks about her.” She yanks her curls again and frowns.
I reach for her shoulder, thinking maybe she will let me comfort her after all. She’s talking to me. Maybe I can figure out what’s eating her.
Pep gives up on her curls and throws her hands up. “It’s always like this. You always—”
“Nadya!” Tam shouts from the deck, and I freeze. Pep jerks her hands down and wipes her eyes real fast before Tam pokes his head in. “Nic wants you on deck and ready to go ashore in an hour. We’re delivering the gormling today.”
I lean forward and raise my eyebrows at him, waiting. Hoping. After a second, I jerk my head toward Pep.
Tam squints at me, then gets the hint. “Oh. Hey, Pep,” he says. “Thanks for what you did last night. That was pretty cool. Have you seen Salyeh this morning?”
Pep shakes her head, and Tam smacks his hand on my doorjamb. “Darn. Thanks anyway.” He turns around and runs toward the stairs that lead belowdecks.
Pep lets out a big, heavy sigh. “Good luck with the gormling, Nadya,” she mutters. She leaves before I can say another word.
I stare at the door after she closes it, my stomach flipping and flopping like a fish trying to get back to water. It sure seems like she’s bothered about Tam. But she told me that wasn’t it. She keeps trying to say something else. That I always do something. But what? What do I always do?
I lean forward and knock my forehead against my knee. Outside, the men and women who work the dock call to one another, shout and curse and laugh. Cranes creak. Saws screech. Drills whizz. The Orion moves gently against the ropes holding her in place. Life goes on. I have to get up and go be a part of it.
But I really, really wish I could just take a day off and figure some things out instead.
An hour later I’m crutching carefully along the narrow, rope-lined gangway between the Orion and the dock, looking down. They’re slinging the safety net under the Orion now as another ship comes in below us, which means there was nothing to catch me last night when I was doing acrobatics. My stomach curdles like cream mixed with orange juice, even though I try not to think about what could’ve happened. I made it, that’s what counts.
Tam and Salyeh stand in front of me, watching one of the dock operators as she uses a crane to lift the gormling’s tank out of the Orion’s cargo bay. The gormling itself seems pretty spooked—it’s sloshing around the bottom of the tank in a panic, darting back and forth every time the tank sways, which just makes it swing more.
“Nadya, can you calm it down?” Sal shouts from the dock. “This would be over a lot quicker if it stayed still!”
I stuff my fears as deep as I can push them and reach for the gormling on the Panpathia. It’s just a short distance on the web. I was okay last night. Surely nothing’s going to come get me, right?
It’s okay, I tell it. If you stay still, everything will stop moving so much.
The image of it in my mind glares at me. Its emotions run something along the lines of I was born to swim. Imagine you were being thrown around in a tiny bubble of air two hundred feet under the ocean and think how calm you would be.
It’s got a point, but glaring at me seems to give it something better to do than stare at all the open space beneath its tank, and it calms down a little anyway. I hop off the Panpathia before anything notices me, and a few minutes later the crane operator swings the tank over the deck and sets it expertly on an enormous cart. I crutch over and press my hand against the glass. The gormling rubs its cheek against the other side, one last time.
I feel a little choked up. This fish and I’ve been through a lot together. I wish we could keep it, even though I know that tiny tank is a terrible home for it and we’ve got nowhere better to put it, plus we really need the money from delivering it to fix the Orion now that she’s got a hole blown in her side.
“A remarkable specimen,” says a friendly voice from the other side of the tank.
I look up to see who’s speaking, and a short man with the fanciest clothes I’ve ever seen steps around the tank. He’s got pale skin and wavy brown hair that cascades almost to the collar of a big silver cape on his shoulders. Beneath the cape he’s wearing a white silk shirt and a purple vest. He smiles and reaches out to greet me with a hand gloved in silver-lined black velvet.
“Alan Salawag,” he introduces himself as he shakes my hand. “Lord Secretary of Far Agondy.” His voice reminds me of a piece of fleece that’s been heated up in a steamer—fluffy and comforting. He’s got piercing brown eyes, the kind that make the people who have them look smart, but when he smiles the sharpness goes away and they’re as soft as his voice. He’s also, I notice, got gills right where his neck meets his shoulders, so he’s a skylung like me.
“Thank you for bringing this gormling to me,” he says. “I’ve heard your voyage was enormously difficult.”
Me, Sal, and Tam just look at him. We’re not used to rubbing elbows with muckety-mucks. Eventually Salyeh coughs and says, “You’re welcome.”
Lord Salawag adjusts his cape. “You’re the Orion’s skylung?” he asks me. “Awfully young to be doing the job on your own, aren’t you?”
My gills burn. “Someone was teaching me, but we lost her to the pirates.”
Lord Salawag winces. “Ah, I’m sorry. That’s . . . awful, simply awful. It must have been terrible bringing the ship in by yourself. I’m impressed.”
I shrug, but the burning in my gills stops. “I had help. We rescued a cloudling from the pirates.”
Lord Salawag touches his chest in surprise. “Rescued . . . goodness, what a trip. Markus!” he calls, and a tall, burly guy even paler than Salawag, with tattoos up his arms and a beard that reaches the bottom of his neck, steps out from the secretary’s crew and gives me a glare that could kill a rat. “Markus, give the ship’s captain an extra ten percent and tell him it’s to be shared out among his crew as a bonus. These kids have been through a lot.” Salyeh makes a choking sound, and his eyes get big. Whatever Nic was getting paid, ten percent of it must be a lot.
The bearded guy makes a note on a clipboard he’s carrying. As he writes, his collar slips, and I notice he’s got gills too. Maybe Lord Salawag works with a bunch of skylungs or something.
“Thanks,” I say, figuring if this guy’s giving us enough money to make Salyeh choke, somebody should say it.
“I wish I could do more,” Lord Salawag says, taking off his gloves and stuffing them into a pocket of his vest. “Your names?”
“Nadya,” I say. “Nadya Skylung.”
“Skylung,” he says. “How interesting. Pleased to make your acquaintance. And the rest of you?”
Tam and Salyeh give their names, and I stand there trying to figure out what’s interesting about my last name. “Tam, Salyeh,” Lord Salawag says, “would you mind escorting Markus onto the ship to find Captain Vega and sort out payment? The others and I will wait here with Nadya.”
Sal fidgets. Tam raises his eyebrows at me and opens his mouth, probably to suggest he or Sal stay too because we stick together around strangers, but I shake my head real slightly. I can take care of myself, and I want to keep my promise to the gormling about visiting. Buttering up Salawag a little ought to help me do that.
Tam frowns, but instead of whatever he was going to say, he just mutters, “Sure,” and he and Salyeh lead Markus down the gangplank onto the ship.
Lord Salawag watches them go and sucks in a long, deep breath. “Ah, the cloudship Orion,” he says wistfully. “I used to be a member of the crew, you know.”
I blink up at him. I had no idea. Nic never mentioned it.
When he sees how confused I am, the wistfulness leaves his eyes, and he looks hurt and a little angry. “He never talks about me, does he?” he says. “Neither of them do, I bet.” He sits on the edge of the cart with the gormling’s tank on it, so we’re eye to eye. “I was on the same crew Thom was, about fifteen years ago. I was the skylung in training, and he was the fireminder.” He smiles. “We had some great times, chasing leviathans in the deep ocean, riding out the big storms in the fall, running the streets of Vash Abandi and T’an Gaban and all the other cities.” The smile fades, and he looks at me seriously. “But when I was about your age, Nic got a whole lot stricter with us. He set all these new rules, told us what we could and couldn’t do, started talking about discipline.”
My mouth dries up. My heart flutters.
Salawag sighs. “I didn’t like it, and I told him so. We argued a few times, and eventually he kicked me off the ship.” He stands up, then gestures to the rest of his entourage. “Things worked out fine for me, obviously. I entered the civil service academy here in Far Agondy, and I was smart enough to make the most of my opportunities. But I still miss life on the open sea sometimes, and I wonder what it would’ve been like if Nic hadn’t thrown me off the Orion.” He looks up at the cloud balloon. “I miss the garden,” he says softly. “I miss it a lot.”
I can hardly breathe. Nic threw this guy off the ship just for arguing with him. What if he does the same to me?
“Tell me,” Lord Salawag says, looking back down from the balloon. “How’s he treating you these days?”
I cough. I don’t know what to say.
Nic’s booming footsteps on the gangplank interrupt us. “Alan!” he calls. “How nice of you to come yourself. I didn’t expect it.”
“Ah, Captain Vega,” Lord Salawag says. He nods deferentially and shakes Nic’s hand as he, Markus, Salyeh, and Tam come back from the Orion. “So good to see you well. When the ship was late, we feared disaster. Dockmaster Yamada told me about your troubles. That’s why I came down to see you personally.”
“You’re too kind,” Nic says gruffly, like he’d really rather Salawag hadn’t come down at all. “As you can see, we’ve had quite a bit of damage. Yamada told you about the pirates?”
“Yes, of course. We’ll have to speak to the Cloud Navy about making sure the shipping routes to the city are kept more secure. Trade, after all, is our lifeblood.”
“Of course,” Nic says. He’s staring at me so hard I start to sweat. He must be guessing what Lord Salawag told me. Nic waves at the gormling. “He’s unharmed. When can we expect our payment?”
Lord Salawag looks over the gormling again. “This afternoon,” he says. “Markus will bring by the full amount, plus a little extra in consideration of your troubles. Will you be in?”
Nic clears his throat and rubs his collar with his thumb. “That’s . . . very generous,” he says grudgingly. “Thank you. I’ll be out most of the day, but he can give it to Thom or to Salyeh here if Thom’s not aboard.”
Lord Salawag smiles again and inclines his head ever so slightly toward Nic. “Wonderful. Please give my regards to Thom, and to Carla, James, and Brick, if you ever see them.” I frown. I know Carla—she’s the captain of the cloudship Emerald Dream—but I’ve never heard Nic or Thom talk about James and Brick.
Lord Salawag turns to the rest of us. “So nice to meet you all, truly. Good luck in your apprenticeships with Captain Vega here. Just make sure not to get on his bad side, eh?” He winks at Nic, but Nic doesn’t seem to think it’s funny. He takes a deep breath, like he’s trying not to get angry.
I take a deep breath myself. My head’s whirling from everything Salawag told me, and Markus is glaring at me like I’m a bit of mud about to throw itself at his beard, but this guy’s gonna leave soon, and I have a promise to keep. “Can I come see the gormling?” I blurt. “Before we leave Far Agondy?”
Lord Salawag blinks, and then the smile’s back on his face again, welcoming as a cup of tea after a cold day up checking plants on the catwalks. “Of course, Nadya. I very much want the gormling to be comfortable in his new environment, and a visit from you might help him adjust. Markus, put her name on the short-notice appointment list. Just come by anytime you’re free, and Markus will fit you into my schedule wherever it’s possible.” He bows slightly, then walks off, his silver cape flapping behind him like the plumage of some kind of treasure bird.
Markus glares at me like my mud got all the way through his beard and went down his shirt onto his chest hair, but he scribbles a note on his clipboard before he stalks off behind Lord Salawag anyway. A couple dockhands head after them, pushing the squeaky cart with the gormling’s tank on it.
The gormling looks back at me as it goes, and its emotions are so strong I can feel them without even trying. It’s terrified, like we’ve all made some kind of horrible mistake.
I want to comfort it on the Panpathia, but I hesitate. It feels risky with all those shadow things skittering around. Still, as the dockhands round a corner and I lose sight of it, my heart twangs and I close my eyes and go searching for it in the nest of golden threads around me. I figure it’ll be easy to find since it’s so close by.
But it’s not. Anything I might see is dwarfed by the sight of Far Agondy itself.
I’ve never been on the Panpathia in a place where there’s so much life crammed together. Out on the ocean it’s all dispersed, except in cloud gardens. Mostly I see lone little strands linking islands of light. Here in Far Agondy, the Panpathia’s a golden web the size of ten mountains stacked together, reaching up into the sky and down into the earth. It looks like a shining version of a tent caterpillar nest—so thick you can barely see through it and made of millions of interlocking golden strands.
And, I realize as my stomach churns, there’s something wrong with it. In one part there’s a darkness, where the web looks white and brittle instead of gold and flexible. The skittering shadows are centered there, moving, whispering, peering out at the rest of the city, and at me.
I take a short, sharp breath and jump off the Panpathia, my heart pounding. I wish I could say something to somebody, but I’m not supposed to be on the Panpathia at all, and after Salawag’s story, I’m sure not going to let Nic know I broke the rules again.
Instead I just gulp and try to listen as Nic gives out assignments for our next round of chores.
That afternoon, Nic calls me into his cabin. He’s sitting at his big table under the iron chandelier, looking at the secret ledger Salyeh and I found after he was kidnapped, the one that says DIASPORA at the top of it. I know he’s been trying to schedule a meeting but having trouble getting everyone together. He told me last month he was going to introduce me to the other people fighting the Malumbra, but I guess it’ll have to wait.
The afternoon light pours in through the big windows at the back of his cabin and puts a little line of gold around his body. When I enter, he looks up, and his head blocks the light. He closes the ledger, takes his glasses off, and polishes them.
“Sit down, would you?” he asks, but I know it’s more a command than an invitation. I crutch to a chair opposite his and plop into it. “Tam and Salyeh tell me you spent some time alone with Lord Salawag this morning.”
I nod, my mouth dry again. I don’t blame them for blabbing. I’m actually kind of looking forward to talking to Nic.
“What did he tell you?”
I clear my throat. “He said he used to be on the crew of the Orion, back when Thom was. He said you kicked”—I choke—“kicked him off the ship.”
Nic puts both hands on the table and closes his eyes for a second. Then he goes to the cabinet where he keeps a private stash of food and drink, fills a glass of water, and hands it to me. “That’s one way of looking at it,” he says. “And I’m not surprised he sees it that way.”
I drink the water and my throat clears up enough that I could say something, but I don’t know what to say. I don’t know who to trust.
“Alan Salawag was an enormously talented skylung, Nadya, much like you,” Nic says. “And he was overconfident and charismatic, much like you. The other kids on the crew followed his lead. He would have made an exceptional captain someday.”
He sighs and looks down at his ledger, flicking some dust from its cover. “Except that he had a tendency to lead people into trouble. He made rash, foolish decisions in the pursuit of new experiences. He encouraged Thom to steal a watch in T’an Gaban and Carla to sneak into the lionwraith exhibit in the Deepwater Zoo with him. He nearly wrecked the Orion once when he persuaded James Daybreak, an older boy who was our starwinder, to thread a tiny gap between two rocky pinnacles outside the Free City of Myrrh. Initially I lectured him and assumed he would learn, but as he got older, he got more reckless instead of less.” He looks me in the eye. “Eventually, I decided that his presence on the ship was damaging to the other kids, and I removed him from the crew.”
My heart races. He must be telling me this for a reason. He’s warning me. “You abandoned him?” I say.
Nic frowns. “No. I helped him get into the civil service academy here in Far Agondy. I paid his tuition for six years. I felt—feel—somewhat responsible for him. He seems to have mellowed with age. Certainly he’s achieved an impressive position in the city.”
“Who’s Brick?” I ask.
Nic jumps, almost like I pricked him with a needle. He takes a deep breath, then leans against the table. “Brick—Brittany Brikowski is her full name—is a skylung like Alan. She was our engineer in training and Alan’s best friend, back when they were crewmates.”
I think about Pepper, and my guts shrivel again. “Why don’t you ever talk about her? Did you kick her off the crew too?”
Nic twists his head to the side. He looks hurt, and I feel a little bad about running my mouth off. “Brick is a sad subject for all of us, Nadya,” he says. He coughs, and his eyes get red and watery. “I did not remove her from the ship. We let her down.” He pulls out the handkerchief he uses to clean his glasses and dabs at his eyes with it instead. “I don’t want to talk about Brick today. But believe me that when we ask you to be careful, listen to our orders, and keep off the Panpathia, we have very good reason to do so.”