The iron bolt of the castle gate slid silently aside, and the huge door swung open with an easy push. It was so simple to walk out, throwing his hard-won safety to the cold wind. Certainly it felt nobler than hiding here, waiting to inherit an empire.
Half a kilometer out onto the snows Alek realized that he had finally snuck past his old fencing master.
The snowshoes looked absurd, like tennis rackets strapped to his boots. But they worked, keeping his feet from breaking through the brittle surface into the powdery snow beneath. His long, sliding steps carried him quickly back along the Stormwalker’s footprints, until he was far enough away that his tracks weren’t visible from the castle walls.
The smooth, almost featureless glacier was easy going, and in an hour he drew close enough to hear the Darwinists’ shouts as they worked on their wounded airship. He climbed up the valley’s side, until he reached a ledge overlooking the vast shape.
Alek stood at the edge, astonished by what he saw below.
The wreck looked like a corner of hell bubbling up through the snow. Flocks of winged creatures coiled around hollows in the wilting gasbag. Crewmen moved across the great beast’s skin, accompanied by bizarre double- snouted, six-legged dogs that sniffed and pawed at every bullet hole. The green lights he’d seen from the castle covered the creature. They were
And the stench! Rotten eggs and cabbage, and a salty smell disturbingly close to the fish he’d had for dinner. Alek wondered for a moment if the Germans were right after all. These godless beasts were an insult to nature itself. Perhaps a war was worth ridding the world of them.
“A VAST FORM STRETCHES OUT.”
And yet he couldn’t take his eyes from the creature. Even lying wounded it looked so powerful, more like something from legend than the work of men.
Four searchlights flared to life, illuminating one flank of the creature. Alek could see now why the beast had rolled sideways during the crash: The gondolas hanging from its underside had escaped being flattened against the snow.
Steeling himself, he climbed down to the glacier, heading toward the unlit side of the creature. Only a few men worked there, though the damage looked just as bad. Drawing nearer, Alek stepped lightly, his snowshoes shushing in the darkness.
As he stole down the length of the airship, the green glow seemed to be bleeding out onto the ice. Surely the beast was dying.
He’d been a fool to think he could help. Perhaps he should just leave the medicines somewhere and slip away… .
A soft moan came from the shadows.
Alek stole closer to the sound, the air growing warm around him. His stomach twisted. This was living heat from the creature’s body! Fighting nausea, he went a few steps nearer, trying not to look at the green lights crawling beneath the creature’s skin.
A young airman lay in the darkness, curled against the beast’s flank. His eyes were closed and his nose bloody.
Alek crouched beside him.
The airman was just a boy, with fine features and sandy hair. The collar of his flight suit was caked with blood, and his face looked deathly pale in the soft green light. He had to have been slumped here on the ice for the hours since the crash, the giant creature’s warmth keeping him alive.
Alek opened one of the medical satchels, fishing through the bottles for smelling salts and rubbing alcohol.
He waved the salts under the boy’s nose.
“Barking spiders!” the boy croaked in a high voice, his eyes fluttering open.
Alek frowned, wondering if he’d heard the words right.
“Are you well?” he ventured in English.
“A bit scrambled in the attic,” the boy said, rubbing his head. He sat up slowly, taking in the scene around them, and his glassy eyes widened. “Blisters! We came down hard, didn’t we? The poor beastie looks a bloody wreck.”
“You’re rather bloody yourself,” Alek said, twisting open the bottle of rubbing alcohol. He dampened a bandage and held it against the boy’s face.
“Ow! Stop that!” The boy pushed the bandage away and sat up straight, his gaze becoming clearer. He looked suspiciously at Alek’s snowshoes. “Who are you, anyway?”
“I’m here to help. I live nearby.”
“Up
“Yes.” Alek cleared his throat, wondering what to say. He’d always been hopeless at any sort of lying. “In a village, of sorts.”
The boy narrowed his eyes. “Wait a wee minute—you talk like a Clanker!”
“Well … I suppose I do. We speak a dialect of German in this part of Switzerland.”
The boy stared at him another moment, then sighed and rubbed his head. “Right, you’re Swiss. The crash must’ve knocked me silly. For a squick there I thought you were one of those bum-rags who shot us down.”
Alek raised an eyebrow. “And then landed here so I could tend to your bloody nose?”
“I
Alek raised an eyebrow, wondering if the boy always talked this way, or if he was still groggy from the crash. Even bloody and bruised, he had an odd sort of
“Yes,” Alek said. “A frostbitten bum would’ve been unfortunate.”
The boy smiled. “Give us a lift, would you?”
They grasped hands and pulled each other up, the other boy still unsteady. But when he gained his feet, he bowed triumphantly, pulled off a glove and held out his hand.
“Midshipman Dylan Sharp, at your service.”
TWENTY-THREE
Deryn waited for the strange Swiss boy to shake her hand. After a moment’s hesitation he finally reached out.
“My name’s Alek,” he said. “Pleased to meet you.”
Deryn smiled, though her head was aching. The boy was about her age, with reddish-brown hair and sharp, handsome features. His leather coat had once been posh, but it was threadbare now. A twitchiness animated the boy’s dark green eyes, as if he were ready to bound away on his ridiculous shoes.
All very odd, Deryn thought.
“Are you sure you’re quite all right?” Alek asked. His English was dead proper, even with the Clanker accent.
