Goliath

prince. But that had all happened in the last month, and the war was just getting started.

Deryn spotted the cage that the rook tenders had emptied, and pulled the loading chute into place above it. It wouldn’t do to put the imperial in with other birds—not while it was hungry.

In one swift motion she snatched the hoods off and pushed the beastie into the chute. It fluttered down into the cage, spinning in the air like a windblown leaf for a moment. Then it came to rest on the largest perch.

From there the imperial eyed its fellow creatures through the bars, shifting from foot to foot unhappily. Deryn wondered what sort of cage it lived in back at the czar’s palace. Probably one with gleaming bars, with fat mice served up on silver platters, and no smell of other birds’ clart thickening the air.

“Dylan,” Alek said. “While we have a moment alone . . .”

She turned to face him. He was standing close, his green eyes glinting in the darkness. It was always hardest meeting Alek’s gaze when he was dead serious like this, but she managed.

“I’m sorry about bringing up your father earlier,” he said. “I know how that still haunts you.”

Deryn sighed, wondering if she should simply tell him not to worry. But it had been a bit tricky, what with Newkirk mentioning her uncle. It might be safer to tell Alek the truth—at least, as much of it as she possibly could.

“No need to apologize,” she s#8220;But there’s something you should know. That night I told you about my da’s accident, I didn’t quite explain everything.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, Artemis Sharp really was my da, just like I said.” Deryn took a slow breath. “But everyone in the Air Service thinks he was my uncle.”

She could see from Alek’s expression that it made no sense at all, and without her even trying, lies began to spin from her tongue.

“When I signed up, my older brother Jaspert was already in the Service. So we couldn’t say we were brothers.”

That was blether, of course. The real reason was that Jaspert had already told his crewmates about his only sibling, a younger sister. A brother popping out of thin air might have been a squick confusing.

“We pretended to be cousins. You see?”

Alek frowned. “Brothers don’t serve together in your military?”

“Not when their father’s dead. You see, we’re his only children. And so if we both . . .” She shrugged, hoping he’d believe it.

“Ah, to keep the family name alive. Very sensible. And that’s why your mother didn’t want you signing up?”

Deryn nodded glumly, wondering how her lies always got so barking complicated. “I didn’t mean to mix you up in a deception. But that night I thought you were leaving the ship for good. So I told you the truth, instead of what I tell everyone else.”

“The truth,” Bovril repeated. “Mr. Sharp.”

Alek reached up and touched his jacket pocket. Deryn knew that was where he kept his letter from the pope, the one that could make him emperor one day. “Don’t worry, Dylan. I’ll keep all your secrets, as you’ve kept mine.”

Deryn groaned. She hated it when Alek said that. Because he couldn’t keep all her secrets, could he? He didn’t know the biggest of them.

All of sudden she didn’t want to lie anymore. Not this much, anyway.

“Wait,” she said. “I just told you a load of yackum. Brothers can serve together. It’s something else.”

“Yackum,” Bovril repeated. Alek just stood there, concern on his face.

“But I can’t tell you the real reason,” Deryn said.

“Why not?”

“Because . . .” she was a commoner, and he was a prince. Because he’d run a mile if he knew. “You’d think less of me.”

He stared at Deryn a moment, then reached out and took her shoulder. “You’re the best soldier I’ve ever met, Dylan. The boy I’d have wanted to be, if I hadn’t wound up such a useless prince. I could never think badly of you.”

She groaned, turning away and wishing an alert would sound, an attack of zeppelins or a lightning storm. Anything to extract her from this conversation.

“Listen,” Alek said, dropping his hand. “Even if your family has some deep, dark secret, who am I to judge? My granduncle conspired with the men who killed my parents, for heaven’s sake!”

Deryn had no idea what to say to that. Alek had got it all wrong, of course. It wasn’t some musty family secret; it was hers alone. He would always get it all wrong, until she told him the truth.

And that, she could never do.

“Please, Alek. I can’t. And . . . I’ve got a fencing lesson.”

Alek smiled, the perfect picture of a patient friend. “Anytime you want to tell me, Dylan. Until then, I won’t ask again.”

She nodded silently, and walked ahead of him the whole way back.

“Rather late with my breakfast, aren’t you?”

“Sorry about that, your countship,” Deryn said, plunking the tray down on Count Volger’s desk. A splash of coffee sloshed out of the pot and onto the toast. “But here it is.”

The wildcount raised an eyebrow.

“And your newspapers as well,” she said, pulling them from beneath her arm. “Dr. Barlow saved them especially for you. Though I don’t know why she bothers.”

Volger took the papers, then picked up the soggy piece of toast and shook it. “You seem to be in rather a lively mood this morning, Mr. Sharp.”

“Aye, well, I’ve been busy.” Deryn frowned at the man. It was lying to Alek that had put her in a huff, of course, but she felt like blaming Count Volger. “I won’t have time for a fencing lesson.”

“Pity. You’re coming along so well,” he said. “For a girl.”

Deryn scowled at the man. Guards were no longer posted outside the Clankers’ staterooms, but someone passing in the corridor might have heard. She crossed to shut the cabin door, then turned back to the wildcount.

He was the only person on the airship who knew what she really was, and he generally took care not to mention it aloud.

“What do you want?” she said quietly.

He didn’t look up at her, but instead fussed with his breakfast as if this were a friendly chat. “I’ve noticed the crew seems to be preparing for something.”

“Aye, we got a message this morning. From the czar.”

Volger looked up. “The czar? Are we changing course?”

“That’s a military secret, I’m afraid. No one knows except the officers.” Deryn frowned. “And the lady boffin, I suppose. Alek asked her, but she wouldn’t say.”

The wildcount scraped butter onto his half soggy toast, giving this a think.

During the month Deryn had been hiding in Istanbul, the wildcount and Dr. Barlow had entered into some sort of alliance. Dr. Barlow made sure he was kept up with news about the war, and Volger gave her his opinions on Clanker politics and strategy. But Deryn doubted the lady boffin would answer this question for him. Newspapers and rumors were one thing, sealed orders quite another.

“Perhaps you could find out for me.”

“No, I couldn’t,” Deryn said. “It’s a military secret.”

Volger poured coffee. “And yet secrets can be so difficult to keep sometimes. Don’t you think?”

Deryn felt a cold dizziness rising up inside, as it always did when Count Volger threatened her. There was something unthinkable about everyone finding out what she was. She wouldn’t be an airman anymore, and Alek would never speak to her again.

But this morning she was not in the mood for blackmail.