Goliath

She looked down at the rope. “Ah, right. Best to keep it that way, though.”

Alek didn’t argue. If Mr. Rigby hadn’t got word to the officers, the engines could come back on at any time. Deryn worked swiftly with the pliers, her hands as sure as they were with knots and cable. Alek noticed how rough they were. Of course, any sailor’s hands were calloused and scarred, but now that he knew she was a girl . . .

He shook the thought out of his head. At times like this it was best just to think of her as a boy. Anything else was too confusing.

“Done,” she said. “Let’s go find the other loose end.” As Alek rose to his feet, a chill went through his wet fligh suit.

“Has the wind gotten stronger?”

Deryn cocked her head to listen. “Aye, the rear engines are running a bit faster.”

“And we’re losing altitude.” Below, the towering waves were clearly visible now, their whitecaps glowing against the dark water.

“Blisters, we might be in trouble.” Deryn knelt again, putting one finger into the water building on the airship’s surface. “Almost half an inch already!”

“Of course. It’s raining.”

Her eyes closed. “Just let me remember my sums. Every inch of water spread across the membrane adds . . . eight tons to the ship’s weight.”

Alek opened his mouth, but it took a moment to speak. “Eight tons?”

“Aye. Barking heavy stuff, water.” She started down the spine toward the tail, letting out the added length of wire behind her. “Come on. Let’s find the other end and get this job done!”

Alek dumbly followed, his gaze traveling down the endless length of the ship. The Leviathan’s topside was huge, of course, so of course a thin layer of water would add up to thousands of liters. And though water was running down the sloped sides and off the ship, the rain was constantly adding more to replace it.

“They’ll have dropped all the ballast by now,” Deryn said. “But I reckon the weight’s still building. That’s why we’re losing altitude.”

Alek’s eyes went wide. “You mean this ship can’t fly in the rain without crashing?”

“Don’t be daft. We can still use aerodynamic lift, but that’s what I’m worried about. There it is!”

She knelt and picked up a loose end of wire tangled in the ratlines, the other end of the break. Her fingers worked quickly, splicing it together with the added length.

Alek stood close, sheltering her from the rain. “Aerodynamic lift? Like when we took off in the Alps and had to fly for a bit to get off the ground?”

“Right. The Leviathan is like a big wing. The faster we go, the more lift we generate. Done!” She stretched the wire between her hands once, snapping it hard—the new splice held.

“So when it rains, your ship has to keep moving to stay aloft.” Alek looked down at the ocean. The waves were building in strength, the tallest of them almost reaching the bottom of the ship. “Aren’t we getting a bit close to the water?”

“Aye,” Deryn said. “The captain’s been waiting as long as he can. But I doubt we have much . . .”

Her words faded as the Clanker engines roared to life. Deryn swore, then stood there for a moment listening.

“What do you Alek? Quarter speed?”

He knelt to press his palm against the membrane. “I’d say half.”

“Blisters. We’ll never make it back to the wheelhouse before the wind gets too strong to walk.” She looked around. “Might as well stay here, where the ship’s wider. It’ll be harder to fall off.”

Alek glanced down at the roiling black sea. “Very sensible.”

“But we need to get out of the flooding channel.”

“The what?”

“You’ll see.” Deryn started jogging toward the stern.

Alek hurried to catch up. The ship’s speed was building fast, the wind at his back pushing him harder and harder. The rain felt like cold needles now, and the view through his goggles was a blur.

He slowed down to wipe them, forgetting the rope stretched between him and Deryn. It yanked tight, and Alek’s boots skidded on the wet surface of the spine. He landed badly, the air driven from his lungs, his head cracking hard. With the blow echoing in his ears, Alek realized that he was still moving, sliding along in the flow of rainwater. He clawed at the ratlines, but his cold fingers wouldn’t close. For an awful moment the slope of the airbeast’s flank dropped away from beneath him.

Then the rope around his waist went taut again, snapping Alek to a halt. He lay there, uncertain of up and down, his heart pounding.

A voice was in his ear. “This is no use! Clip yourself!”

Alek nodded, feeling blindly for his safety clip. He snapped it onto the grid of ropes beneath him, then sat up, his head spinning. Every second the engines roared louder, and as their power built, so did the driving power of the rain. His goggles were blurred, and his head still reeled from the impact of his fall.

“Sorry I fell.” Talking hurt his head.

“No worries. We’re far enough aft. Just wanted to stay out of that.”

Alek pulled his goggles off, following Dylan’s gaze. Pushed along by the airship’s passage, a channel of water was spilling down the backside of the hump, like a waterfall forming after a downpour.

“The flooding channel?”

Dylan laughed madly. “Aye, I’ve never seen it like that. And this is only three-quarter speed!”

Alek squeezed his eyes shut, suddenly uncertain how he’d gotten out here in this storm. It felt as if he’d just woken up to find himself magically transported from his bed out onto the topside.

“Blisters, Alek, you’re bleeding!”

“I’m what?” He blinked. Dylan was staring at his forehead. Alek reached up to touch the painful spot, then looked at his fingers. They were stained by a thin, watery hint of blood.

“It’s nothing.”

“Are you dizzy?”

“Why would I be dizzy?” Alek reached up to pull his goggles off, but found them already in his hand. His vision stayed blurry, though, as if a layer of glass hovered between him and the world.

“Because you just cracked your head, you dafty!”

“I did what?” It was hard to think with the engines roaring like this.

“Barking spiders, Alek.” Dylan grasped both his hands, staring straight into his eyes. “Are you all right?”

“I’m cold.” All the heat in his body was trickling out into the storm, the strength in his limbs carried away by the cold water rushing past. Alek wanted to stand up, but the wind was too strong.

A vast boom rang out, the whole ship shuddering beneath them.

“Blisters!” Dylan swore. “A wave just smacked our underside! The officers left the engines too late.”

Alek stared at Dylan, the shock wave echoing in his head. He wanted to ask a question about the engines and the storm, but all at once the blurry layer across his vision seemed to clear away.

“You’re a girl, aren’t you?”

“What in blazes?” Deryn’s eyes grew wide. “Did your brain get cracked that bad? You’ve known that for a barking week!”

“Yes, but I can . . . see it now!” Even after he’d known the truth, the lie had remained stuck in his mind, like a mask over Deryn’s face. But suddenly the mask had shaken free.

He touched his forehead. “Did you always look like this?”

Deryn’s answer was drowned out by the engines. Alek knew the sound from his long hours in the pods, the distinctive roar of full speed ahead. The wind drove even harder, the rain suddenly like hailstones. He pulled his goggles on again.

“You fell and cracked your head!” Deryn shouted. “The ship’s heavy with rain, remember? So they’re throwing every engine to full speed.” She turned into the gale, her arm thrown across her face, and stared up at the hump rising over them. “And that’s not all!”