What in blazes was this thing?
Dr. Barlow might know, if Deryn could get a sample somehow.
She remembered the chapter from the Manual of Aeronautics on compasses. Iron was the only magnetic element, and a great spinning blob of it at the earth’s core was what made compasses work. She rubbed the metal and sniffed her fingers, and caught a tang almost like fresh blood. There was iron in blood, too. . . .
And iron was much softer than steel.
She pulled out her rigging knife and slipped it into the sack. Her fingers searched until she found a wee sliver jutting up from the object’s rough surface. Tesla was snoring by now, so Deryn began to saw away at the sliver, the canvas sack muffling the rasp of her knife.
As she worked, her mind spun with questions. Had Tesla’s weapon used a projectile of some kind and this was all that was left? Or had the electrical explosion somehow fused all the iron in the frozen Siberian ground?
One thing was certain—Mr. Tesla’s claim of having caused all that destruction suddenly seemed more credible.
At last the sliver broke free, and Deryn slipped it into a pocket. She stretched her muscles carefully one by one. It wouldn’t do for her legs to cramp as she as sneaking out of the room.
She crawled from beneath the bed and slowly stood, watching the rise and fall of Tesla’s chest as she pulled her keys out. The door unlocked with a soft click, and a moment later Deryn was in the corridor.
Alek stood there looking pale, a drawn knife in his hand. Bovril still perched on his shoulder, wide-eyed and tense.
Deryn put her fingers to her lips, then turned and relocked the door. With a beckoning wave of her hand, she led Alek to the middies’ mess. He followed, his expression still anxious, his eyes darting down every corridor.
“You can put that away,” Deryn said when she’d closed the door to the mess.
Alek stared at his knife a moment, then slipped it back into his boot.
“It was maddening,” he said, “standing out there. When that other man stayed so long, I almost burst in to make sure you were all right.”
“Good thing you didn’t,” she said, wondering why Alek was so twitchy tonight. “You’d have started a ruckus for no reason. And look, while I was hiding under the bed from that Russian, I found something!”
She pulled the shard of metal from her pocket and placed it on the mess table. It didn’t look like much here in the light, just a shiny black blob the size of Bovril’s little finger.
“That can’t be what Tesla came here for,” Alek said. “It’s too small.”
“That’s just a wee piece of it, Dummkopf. The rest is as big as your daft head.”
Alek pulled out a chair and sat at the mess table, looking exhausted. “That still seems awfully small. How did that device detect it?”
“Watch this.” She pulled out her compass and set it close to the sliver of metal, which set the needle shivering. “It’s magnetized iron!”
Bovril crawled down from Alek’s shoulder, getting close enough for a sniff.
“Magnetized,” the beastie said.
“I don’t understand,” Alek said. “What has magnetism to do with an explosion?”
“I reckon that’s one for the boffins to ponder.”
“I’ll ask Klopp as well. We have to know if Tesla’s telling the truth before he gets off this ship.”
Deryn frowned. “Why’s that, exactly?”
Alek drummed his fingers on the table a moment, then shook his head. “I can’t tell you.”
Deryn’s nerves twitched a bit. There was something odd about the way Alek was looking at her, not just exhaustion and nerves. He’d been tense all night, but now there was something stormy in his eyes.
“What do you mean you can’t tell me?” she asked. “What’s wrong, Alek?”
“I need to ask you a simple question,” he said slowly. “Will you listen to every word? And answer me truthfully?”
She nodded. “Just ask.”
“All right, then.” He took a slow breath. “Can I trust you, Deryn? Really trust you?”
“Aye. Of course you can.”
Alek breathed out a sigh as he stood up. He turned without another word and walked from the room.
Deryn frowned. What in blazes was he . . . ?
“Can I trust you, Deryn?” repeated Bovril, then it sprawled across the table, chuckling to itself.
Something coiled, tight and hard, in her chest. Alek had called her Deryn.
He knew.
She was a girl. Her name was Deryn Sharp, and she was a girl disguised as a boy.
Alek walked toward his stateroom with steady, determined steps, but the floor was shifting beneath his feet. The soft green wormlight of the corridors looked all wrong, as sickly as when he’d first come aboard the Leviathan.
He raised a hand to guide himself, his fingers sliding along the wall like a blind man’s. The fabricated wood trembled against them, the whole ghastly airship pulsing with life. He was trapped inside an abomination.
His best friend had been lying to him since the moment they’d met.
“Alek!” came a frantic whisper from behind.
Part of him was pleased that Deryn had followed. Not because he wanted to talk to her, but so he could walk away again.
He kept walking.
“Alek!” she repeated, breaking into a full-voiced cry, loud enough to wake the sleeping men around them. Alek had almost reached the officers’ cabins. Let the girl keep yelling where they could hear.
She’d lied to all of them, hadn’t she? Her captain, her officers and shipmates. She’d sworn a solemn oath of duty to King George, all lies.
Her hand grabbed his shoulder. “You daft prince! Stop!”
Alek spun about, and they glared at each other in silence. It stung him to finally see her sharp, fine features for what they really were. To see how completely he’d been fooled.
“You lied to me,” he whispered at last.
“Well, that’s pretty barking obvious. Anything else obvious to say?”
Alek’s eyes widened. This . . . girl had the nerve to be impertinent?
“All your talk of dutywhen you’re not even a soldier.”
“I am a barking soldier!” she growled.
“You’re a girl dressed up like one.” Alek saw that the words cut deep, and he turned away again, shards of satisfaction mixing with his anger.
Until this moment he hadn’t believed it. The newspaper article, her lies to the crew about her father, even the whispered words of the perspicacious loris hadn’t convinced him. But then Deryn had answered to her real name without blinking.
“Say that again,” she spat from behind him.
Alek kept walking. He didn’t want to have this absurd discussion. He wanted only to go inside his stateroom and lock the door.
But suddenly he was stumbling forward. His feet tangled, and he landed on his hands and knees, staring at the floor.
He turned to look up at her. “Did you just . . . shove me?”
“Aye.” Her eyes were wild. “Say that again.”
Alek got to his feet. “Say what again?”
“That I’m not a real soldier.”
“Very well. You aren’t a real—oof!”
Alek staggered backward, the breath driven from his lungs. His back thumped against a cabin door—she’d punched him in the stomach. Hard.
He clenched his fists, anger coursing through his blood. In a flash he saw an opening, how her fists were held too low, how she favored her injured foot . . .
But before he could swing, he realized that he couldn’t hit back. Not because she was a girl, but because she wanted so much to fight. Anything to make herself feel like a real boy.
Alek straightened himself. “Are you proposing that we settle the matter with a fistfight?”
“I’m proposing that you say I’m a real soldier.”
He saw a glimmer in the darkness, and his lips curled into a thin smile. “Is that how r
eal soldiers cry?”
Deryn swore extravagantly, her thumb squashing the single tear on her left cheek, her fists still clenched. “That’s not crying; that’s just—”
Her voice choked off as the door behind Alek opened. He stumbled a moment, then turned and took a hasty step back. A sleepy-looking Dr. Busk stood in the doorway, wearing his nightgown and an annoyed expression.
His eyes darted back and forth between them. “What’s going on here, Sharp?”
Her fists dropped. “Nothing, sir. We thought we heard one of the Russians wandering about. But it might be that a sniffer’s got loose.”
The boffin glanced up and down the empty hallway. “A sniffer, eh? Well, whatever it is, keep it quiet, boy.”
“Our apologies, sir,” Alek said, giving the man a small bow.
Dr. Busk returned the bow. “Not at all, Your Highness. Good night.”
The door closed, and Alek met Deryn’s eyes for a moment. The naked fear in them sent a pang through him. She had expected him to tell the boffin everything. Was that what she thought of him?
Alek turned and walked toward his stateroom again.
Her quiet footsteps followed, as if she’d been invited along. He sighed, the rush of anger fading into the dull throb where she’d punched his stomach. There was nothing else to do but have this out with her.
When Alek reached his stateroom door, he pulled it open, extending his hand. “Ladies first.”
“Get stuffed,” she said, but went in ahead of him.
He followed, shut the door softly, and sat down at his desk. Out the window the snowy ground glowed in patches, moonlit islands in a black sea. Deryn stood in the center of the room, shifting her weight, as if still ready for a fight. Neither of them whistled for the glowworms to light up, and Alek realized that they’d left the loris behind in the middies’ mess.
For a moment he brooded on the fact that a mere beast had figured Deryn out before him.
“That wasn’t a bad punch,” he finally said.
“For a girl, you mean?”
“For anyone.” It had hurt rather a lot; it still did. He turned to face her. “I shouldn’t have said that. You are a real soldier—quite a good one, in fact. But you aren’t much of a friend.”
“How can you say that?” Another tear gleamed on her cheek.
“I told you everything,” Alek said in a slow, careful voice. “All my secrets.”
“Aye, and I’ve kept them all too.”
He ignored her, making a list on his fingers. “You were the first member of this crew to know who my father was. You’re the only one who knows about my letter from the pope. You know everything about me.” He turned away. “But you couldn’t tell me about this? You’re my best friend—in some ways my only friend—and you don’t trust me.”
“Alek, it’s not that.”
“So you lie simply to amuse yourself? ‘Sorry, Dr. Busk, it might be that a sniffer’s got loose.’” Alek shook his head. “It’s as natural to you as breathing, isn’t it?”
“You think I’m here for my amusement?” Deryn stepped closer to the window, her fists clenching again. “That’s a bit odd. Because when you thought I was a boy, you said it was barking brave for me to serve on this ship.”
Alek looked away, remembering the night Deryn had told him about her father’s accident. She’d wondered if it was madness for her to serve on a ship full of hydrogen, as if she secretly wanted to die like him.
Perhaps it was both brave and mad. She was a girl, after all.
“All right. You’re an airman because your father was.” Alek sighed. “That is, if he really was your father.”
She glared at him. “Of course he was, you ninny. My brother’s crewmates knew Jaspert had a sister, so we made up another branch of the family. There’s no more to it than that.”
“I suppose all your lies have a certain logic to them.” As he thought it through, Alek felt his anger building again. “So in my case you thought I’d be a stuffy, arrogant prince who’d turn you in!”
“Don’t be daft.”
“I saw your face when Dr. Busk caught us in the corridor. You thought you were done for. You don’t trust me!”
“You’re being a Dummkopf,” she said. “I only thought he might have heard us arguing. We’d said enough for him to figure it out.”
Alek wondered what Dr. Busk had heard, and found himself hoping it hadn’t been too much.
Deryn pulled out the chair and sat down across from him. “I know you’ll keep my secret, Alek.”
“As you have kept mine,” he said coldly.
“Always.”
“Then, why didn’t you tell me?”
She took a long, slow breath, then spread her hands on the desk, staring at them while she talked. “I almost told you when you first came aboard, when you thought I might get in trouble for hiding you. They’d never hang a girl, you see?”
Alek nodded, though he doubted that was true. Treason was treason.
That thought made him shake his head—this girl had committed treason for him. She’d fought by his side, taught him how to swear properly in English, and how to throw a knife. She’d saved his life, and all while lying to him about what she was.
“When we were in Istanbul,” Deryn went on, “and I thought we’d never get back aboard the Leviathan, I tried a dozen times to tell you. And just a week ago in the rookery, after Newkirk mentioned my uncle, I almost told you then, too. But I didn’t want to . . . to ruin everything between us.”
“Ruin everything? What do you mean?”
She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s obviously not nothing.”
She swallowed, pulling her hands back from the surface of the desk, almost as if his sharp tone had frightened her. But nothing scared Dylan Sharp, nothing but fire.
“Tell me, Deryn.” The name tasted strange in his mouth.
“I thought you couldn’t stand to know.”
“You mean you thought I was too delicate? You thought my fragile pride would crumble, just because some girl can tie better knots than me?”
“No! Volger may have thought that, but not me.”
Alek squeezed his eyes shut, fresh anger rising in him. Tossing and turning that afternoon, wondering if the loris’s hints were true, he’d forgotten about Deryn’s falling-out with Volger. But it was all so obvious now. . . .
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
“He didn’t want to upset you.”
“That’s another lie!” Alek stood up. “I see it all now. This is why you helped us escape—why you’ve kept my secrets. Not because you’re my friend. But because Volger was blackmailing you all along!”
“No, Alek. I did all that because I’m your friend and ally!”
Alek shook his head. “But how can I know that? All you’ve done is lie to me.”
For a long moment Deryn didn’t answer, staring at him across the desk. Fresh tears rolled steadily down her cheeks, but she seemed frozen in place.
Alek began to pace about the stateroom. “That’s why Volger never told me, so that he could hold it over you. Everything you’ve done was to protect yourself!”
“Alek, you’re being daft,” she said softly. “Volger might have tried to blackmail me, but I was your friend long before he knew.”
“How can I believe you?”
“Volger wasn’t with us in Istanbul, was he? Do you think I jumped ship and joined your barking revolution for him?”
Alek clenched his fists, still pacing the room. “I don’t know.”
“I didn’t go to Istanbul because of Volger, or because of any mission. I was never meant to reach the city, just The Straits. You know that, right?”
Alek shook his head, trying to order his thoughts. “Your men were caught, and you were cut off from the Leviathan. So you had no choice but to join me.”
“No, you daft prince! That’s just what I told the officers. There were a hundred British ships at harbor in Istanbul.
I could’ve taken one into the Mediterranean anytime I wanted. But Volger said you were in danger, that you’d stay in the city and fight instead of hiding. And I couldn’t let you do that all alone. Ihad to save you!” Her voice broke on the last word, and she steadied herself with a ragged breath. “You’re my best friend, Alek, and I couldn’t lose you. I’d do anything not to lose you. . . .”
He stared at her, frozen midstride. Her voice sounded so different now, like another person’s altogether. He wondered if she’d been putting on a voice before, or whether he somehow heard her words differently, now that he knew she was a girl.
“What do you mean, lose me? I’d already run away.”
She swore, then stood and walked to the door. “That’s all you need to know, you daft prince, that I’m your friend. I have to go collect the beastie, before it starts looking for us. It might wake somebody up.”
She left without another word.
Alek watched the door close. Why was it so important that she’d joined him in Istanbul? She’d taken the fight to the enemy, helped the revolution, and saved the Leviathan in the process. That was simply the kind of soldier she was.
But then it came back to him, that first moment when he’d seen her in the hotel in Istanbul. The way Deryn had looked at Lilit with such suspicion. Even jealousy.
And then, without a perspicacious loris whispering the truth into his ear, he finally understood. She hadn’t come to Istanbul as a soldier at all. And she never would have revealed her secret to Alek, for the simplest reason in the world.
Deryn Sharp was in love with him.
The crooked fingers of inlets stretched from the sea into the city of Vladivostok, slicing it into winding peninsulas toothed with piers. Hills rose up from the water’s edge, crisscrossed by avenues where mammothines trudged, bearing cargo from the ships scattered across the harbor.
As the Leviathan’s shadow rippled along the rooftops, traffic slowed, with people looking up and pointing. Clearly they had never seen an airship so huge. The airfield looked paltry to Alek, barely half a kilometer across.
“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” he said. “Exiled.”