Here the new king pauses. No emotion registers on his face, but I can see that he’s holding his breath and there’s a slight twitching in his thumb. “You and your child will be on the ground,” he says. “Someone with royal blood from Internment must be there to oversee the project and to serve as a representative of our kingdom. There’s no one better suited than you.”
Celeste stares, with wide, dazed eyes, at nothing in particular. She wanted an important role, but I doubt this was what she had in mind.
“Five years.” Her voice is a whisper. She looks at King Azure. “When will we leave?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“But what about Mother?”
He can’t give her an answer she’ll want to hear. No one speaks, and the silence rises up around us like waves. When I can bear it no longer, I say, “King Ingram had a radio that he used to communicate with your father, didn’t he?”
“Yes,” the new king says, and clears his throat. “Pen has been tinkering with that.”
“It’s a bit archaic, but functional,” Pen offers. “It operates on radio waves, and as long as there’s something to pick up the frequency, it will work.” She glances at me for an instant and then away. “I’ve volunteered to return to Havalais and prepare weekly reports, and technology will be one of the things I observe.”
A stone-solid weight sinks in my stomach. And suddenly five years feels like a lifetime.
The new king must pick up on my worry, because he leans toward me and says, “Morgan, I’d very much prefer if you stayed here. You know more than I do about the day-to-day life in this city. You’ve grown up in the public, unlike my sister and me. Your family had a jumper and you’ve been subjected to specialists. You know more than anyone the importance of changing the way of things. And I dare to say I trust you.”
I can’t draw a full breath. I hide my hands under the table to conceal their trembling. Though I don’t look at her, I can feel Pen’s eyes watching me.
“I’d have to think about it, Your Majesty,” I say.
“Yes, do,” he says.
He goes on talking about the changes he means to make in the city, but I can’t retain a word of it. Five years away from my brother and Alice. Five years in this city, where my mother is dead and my father is nowhere to be found. Basil would prefer to stay—I know that. He would be with his family again.
But what do I want?
There’s a chill under my skin that won’t warm. After the meeting has ended, I am the first through the door. I stumble dazedly down the stairwell and out to the garden, where the poppies pool like blood against the cobbles.
If I focus on the center of all the flowers, I stop seeing the edges of the petals, and it becomes a red ocean. The people of Internment can never know the beauty and the terror of all that water below us, filled with fish and animals that could swallow us whole. And the mermaids, and the lights glittering from the harbor. All my life I wondered what lay below this city, and the truth is so much bigger and more fantastic than I could have imagined.
In five years I could see so much more of it. Without Jack Piper to dictate my every move and exploit me for his gain, I could even leave Havalais. I wouldn’t have to report back to any king.
I don’t know how long I sit there, mystified by all the possibilities, before Basil sits beside me.
I lean against him, and he wraps his arm around my shoulders. It’s one thing to know I love him, but quite another to be reminded in this way of how easily my body fits against his, like coming home.
At last, he says, “Pen told me about your meeting with the king.”
I breathe out the weight that’s been crushing my chest. “So you know about his offer, then.” I look from the poppies to the sky, with its thin wisps of clouds. The sky is always blue here, always calm, even when it’s storming below us. “I don’t think I can do it, Basil. I don’t think I can stay here for five years. Not if I have the chance to leave.”
“Then you shouldn’t.” He says it with such ease, as though he’s always known it would come to this. “It’s five years, not an eternity. You could always come back if you wanted.”
His body is warm and familiar against mine, and I know that for all the wonders the ground holds, there is nothing like this feeling that I belong. I will always want to come back to him.
Though I dread the answer, I ask, “What will you do if I go?”
He’s quiet for a long while, and then he says, “I love you for your adventurous spirit, Morgan, as much as I have always feared it. All my life, I’ve thought that a day would come when you’d hitch a ride on the wind and soar off into the sky.”
I sit up and turn to face him. “That isn’t what I’m doing. You know that, don’t you?”
He smiles. “Yes, I know. But if this opportunity had arisen when we were children, I would have tried to make you stay. I would have thought that it was up to me to protect you. The idea of letting go would have terrified me.”
“Basil . . .”
“But I’d rather watch you sail off into the sky than try to keep you here for my sake.”
“You think I should go, then.”
“You didn’t need me to tell you that.”
I stare down at my betrothal band, perhaps never to be filled with his blood now that the new king will be doing away with assigned betrothals. These little glass rings have seen thousands upon thousands of marriages. But none has ever been worn by a girl who went off to explore the world alone.
It’s only five years, I remind myself. It isn’t forever.
22
I don’t have a chance to give the king an answer before the coronation ceremony.
I borrow one of Celeste’s dresses—a soft yellow that reminds me of falling leaves—and follow everyone down the stairs. Along the way, Pen takes my hand and holds tight. She doesn’t know yet what my decision will be. I wonder if Thomas will follow her to the ground, but I know that it won’t change her mind one way or the other. She’s going, with or without him. With or without me.
We’ve both grown so much in less than a year’s time. We’re less afraid to face life on our own. I know that she won’t try to convince me one way or the other, nor will I for her. We will not always be in the same city. We will float off in opposite directions to explore the worlds, and find each other again and again through the years, reveling in the changes we’ve made while we were apart.
King Azure stands upon a makeshift stage that is centuries old. Its boards creak with his steps. Internment can never compare to the grandeur of the ground. This is no glittering palace the size of a city. But up here, we don’t lose ourselves in the illusion of fineries. This king does not mean to dazzle, merely to reign.
Hundreds of people have come to witness the dawning of a new king. It happens only once in a lifetime, and I suspect the entire city would be here if only it were possible to fit them all in front of the clock tower.
A patrolman is managing the camera that will broadcast the event. King Azure is surrounded by a wall of patrolmen as he begins his coronation speech. As always, Celeste stands in her usual place beside him. But unlike in the other broadcasts, the pair of them don’t look bored. There is something fierce in their eyes.
When he speaks, he doesn’t get deep into the politics. He focuses mainly on the ground, and that his sister will oversee the development of new aircrafts. In five years, he promises aircrafts large enough to transport as many as fifty passengers at a time. And in the future, perhaps a hundred. Perhaps more. The future is all about expansion.
Celeste is regal and as still as a statue, and I wonder if the prospect of returning to Havalais has left her in a daze. All day I’ve had a horrible feeling that she will announce the birth of her child or something equally damning. But she doesn’t, and once the ceremony is through, I’m relieved. I think she is too. She flees from the stage the moment the speech is over. Her brother turns to her for reassurance, and he’s met with only the crowd closing in
to speak to him.
Someone asks him about the princess’s health. She was rumored to be at death’s door just a few days ago, after all.
“The king talks to his citizens?” Nim says.
“Of course,” I say. “But then, he doesn’t have a castle to retreat to. Not like you will once you return.”
“Oh, that old thing,” Nim says. “Celeste thinks I ought to use it for something public. A shelter of sorts. I think she’s onto something.” He cranes his neck and searches the crowd. “Where is she?”
“Hiding away somewhere, I’m sure.” I nudge him. “You should go inside and look for her.”
Once he’s gone, I slip through the crowd and begin making my way to the woods. I don’t want King Azure to find me. Not yet. Not until I’m ready to answer his proposal.
Just when I’ve broken free of the ceremony, someone grabs my arm and reels me back. I expect Pen, here to scold me about leaving her to fend for herself in that commotion, but instead I find myself staring into the face of a boy I don’t recognize.
He’s almost too flawless to be real. A well-colored drawing in one of Birdie’s fashion magazines, not a blond hair on his head out of place. “Don’t run off so soon,” he says, his voice as gentle as it is menacing. “I have so wanted to meet the girl who’s been to the ground and back. Morgan, isn’t it? I’m Virgil.”
In our history book, Virgil was the name of a scribe who fell in love with an uncorrupted who became a star in the sky after she died. Her name was Celeste.
I pull my arm free of his grip. It’s all so very on-the-nose. So this is the boy the princess was fated to marry, the one who was conceived just to be her match.
The historical Virgil did not end up with the historical Celeste, and I wonder if this boy has realized yet that history will repeat itself.
“Yes,” I say. “Is there something I can help you with?”
His lip quirks into a lopsided smile that might be charming if I didn’t know how hated he is by Celeste and her brother. “Eager to please,” he says. “I like that.”
Eager to be rid of him is all.
“I was hoping you could tell me where my betrothed has run off to. She was gone the moment her brother finally stopped droning on.”
“If you’d paid any attention to his droning, you’d know that she’s not your betrothed any longer.”
He sighs as though this is all a trivial inconvenience. “It will be amusing to watch this child king test the waters. But that’s one decree that won’t stick, I’m certain. In any case, have you seen her?”
“I haven’t, no,” I say.
“I’ve been by several times since her return from the ground,” he says. “I was turned away at every instance and led to believe she was at death’s door. Imagine my relief to see her alive and well. A miraculous recovery brought on by the excitement of her brother’s new role, I suppose.”
“It seems that way,” I say. With his cool stare he has made me second-guess my decision to go into the woods alone. I look past him, into the milling crowd that seems to be moving, as endlessly as the ocean’s waves, in King Azure’s direction.
“Would you be so kind as to give her this?” He has extracted a folded note from his breast pocket. “When you see her again.”
“All right,” I say, and am relieved that this will be the end of it. Even as he turns back into the crowd, he is looking for her, though surely he knows that this will prove futile. She’s long gone by now, and half a dozen patrolmen are guarding the only open entrance to the clock tower.
I look at the paper resting in my palm. It has been folded into a perfect square, tied with a length of string. If it’s a profession of love, I’m sure that it’s insincere.
“Who was that?” Basil has moved to my side.
“Celeste’s betrothed.”
His eyes widen. “Really. So that’s him.”
“I wondered why she ran off so quickly after the speech. Now I know.”
Basil points to a girl talking to King Azure. From this distance I can just see her light hair pinned atop her head. “That’s his betrothed.”
“Really?” I stand up on tiptoes to try to have a better look. “How do you know?”
“He introduced her to me. They seem to have a cordial relationship, at least.”
I wonder if she knows the full truth about him and his desires. From where I stand, they seem to be laughing as they talk.
“I was just about to run off and hide,” I say. “Care to join me?”
He grins. “Always.”
We hold hands as we walk. Neither of us planned it; it just seems to happen. We fit together.
“I’ve made a decision,” I say, and though he says nothing, I can feel his body tensing. “Once the ceremony is over, I’ll tell the king that he’s presented me with a flattering offer, but I must decline.” I lean forward so I can see Basil’s face. He looks at me. “I’m going to the ground,” I tell him. “It’s not forever. Only until the next flight to Internment, and then I’ll come back. I’ll have to. It will always call to me.”
He forces a smile. “Good,” he says. “I wouldn’t have believed you if you’d told me you wanted to stay.”
“Basil . . .” I nearly lose my nerve. My heart is beating fast and there’s pain tangled up in the fear and excitement. “When we first left Internment, you chose to come with me. You chose to leave your family, and I—I was happy that you did, but it’s not a one-way venture anymore. It’s not forever. You don’t have to choose and neither do I.”
He nods. “I was thinking the same.” He stops our walking, and he turns to face me. “I need to be with my family now. They’re scared, and Leland is so young—I want to be there for him as he grows up. They almost lost me once, I don’t want to leave them again.”
“Five years isn’t forever,” I remind him. “And I’ll radio in when Pen reports back to the king.” I squeeze his hand. “I’ll tell you everything.”
“I’ll be there every broadcast,” he says.
“Remind me—remind me of what Internment is like, every time we talk,” I say. “While I was on the ground, I think I began to forget bits and pieces of it.”
He stares at me a long while, and we say nothing. But when he brushes his hand across my cheek, I fall against him and squeeze my eyes shut to ward off the tears.
“I’ve loved you all my life,” I say.
His arms circle around me. “I’ve loved you, too.”
Later, in the starry silence, Basil and I spend our last night together. We don’t guess at what will become of us in five years. We don’t imagine the things we’ll see or the ways we’ll change. We say nothing, absolutely nothing, and in the darkness our bodies find each other, his asking permission, mine drawing him in.
It’s painful, and peaceful, and in its own way, freeing. We draw each other as close as we can. And then we let each other go.
23
There’s a knock at our bedroom door before the sun has fully risen in its sky. “Morgan?” Pen’s voice. She doesn’t open the door. “The king wants us downstairs in ten minutes. Are you awake?”
“Yes,” I say. “I’ll be there.”
Basil and I get dressed. I wear another of Celeste’s borrowed dresses—white with an eyelet skirt and a red ribbon laced up the bodice—and I realize that it’s the only piece of clothing from Internment I’ll bring with me to the ground, and it isn’t even mine.
The only other thing I carry is my ring, which gleams dully in the early light. Basil and I made no promises to wear them. I don’t know if he’ll still be wearing his when I return in five years, and I don’t know if I’ll still be wearing mine. But for now, it comforts me.
We descend the stairs, and King Azure is waiting for us in the lobby, Celeste at his side, holding her infant in the crook of her arm and rubbing her reddened eyes as though she’s been crying all night. After the ceremony, she went into her mother’s bedroom and closed the door. She wanted to spend her last hours
in this city by her mother’s side. After everything, it was the only time they would have left.
Nimble, Pen, and Thomas are talking to one another in low voices nearby. So Thomas has decided to follow Pen. That doesn’t surprise me. He wouldn’t know how to breathe without her, and I suppose that’s a good thing, because she needs him every bit as much, only she’s too proud to tell him so. Telling him she was going to the ground was as close as she’d get to asking him to follow.
“Did I tell you?” Celeste says to me when I approach. “I’ve thought of a name for my daughter. At first I thought ‘Riles,’ for Nim’s brother, but ‘Riley’ is much more fitting for a girl, don’t you think?” She runs her finger against the infant’s cheek fondly. “It’s a strong name. The name of a girl who won’t take an injustice quietly. One who will incite a riot if she needs to.”
“I’ve the feeling she would be willing to do that no matter what her name is,” I say. “She’s your daughter after all.”
Celeste laughs, and it’s the first time I’ve seen her smile in days. “Yes,” she says.
There are a dozen patrolmen surrounding us when we make our way to the jet. It will be a crowded flight, as many of the men from the ground will also be returning with us.
“I apologize that it won’t be much of a grand send-off,” King Azure says. “I didn’t want there to be a crowd. It’s unsafe for you.”
“A crowd is the last thing any of us wants,” Celeste says. Nim is holding their daughter now, and he looks considerably more rested. He was sent to his chambers early, with a pill to help him sleep. It’s his job to fly us home, and King Azure insisted that he not be disturbed until morning.
The jet is waiting for us on the other side of the tracks, and Basil remains by my side until we’ve reached the metal staircase that leads inside.
This is it. This is where I leave him.
When we first left Internment, and the metal bird began sinking toward the sky, Pen broke into a sudden panic; she would have done anything to remain on Internment, even knowing that to leave the bird was to die.