Granted, her ears were perhaps a bit long, but they came to a soft and lovely curve, peeking like furry pink secrets through her long ashen hair. Her lips were small and shapely, and, while her nose was somewhat pointy, Finn found it to be a very nice nose indeed. Her form was quite slender in all the proper places, and not too slender where slender wouldn't do at all.
How, he wondered, could he not love Letitia Louise? What she had been was not what she was now. An animal was one thing, a Newlie something else again. Many, of course, couldn't see the truth of that. Many, he knew, likely never would.
And who, in the end, was blessed with more kindness and love? Fair Letitia, or Sabatino Nucci and that vile and scrawny pair with little but stone in their hearts? All three were human through and through, and what did that gain them but cold and empty lives?
The world was full of questions, and Finn, Master Lizard-Maker, knew the answers to very few at all …
He brought their supper from the galley, a meal Letitia hardly touched-watery oyster soup, oat-bread and fish. Letitia nibbled on the bread, but, as ever, wouldn't touch the soup or fish. Meat was meat, whether it came from land or sea. Her kind had never been predators, they'd always been the prey.
“Did you see anyone?” she asked, her precious pink tongue finding crumbs at the corners of her lips. “Does everyone go and eat there? I mean, it must be interesting, meeting new people at sea …”
“Not especially,” Finn told her. “There were quite a few diners, but no one of note, as I recall.”
“Passengers, you mean. But not the crew.”
“Oh, no, not the crew. They have their own quarters forward, quite a distance from here.”
He couldn't miss the little shudder at the mention of the Yowlies. That encounter had shaken her to the core.
“And the man who attacked you wasn't there? Truly, Finn?”
“Truly, Letitia. I didn't see the man.”
“You could have been killed. A man like that has no love for humans, either. He only cares for himself.”
“I should say that's true. But you needn't worry. He'll not bother me again.”
Finn was glad he'd slightly edited his adventure with Sabatino Nucci. He hadn't mentioned that the loony had challenged him to a duel, and asked him to supper as well. He could scarcely fathom the man's bizarre behavior, and saw no reason to share it with Letitia Louise.
“I think,” Julia put in, scratching herself with sharp iron claws, though, as Finn knew, there was no way she could possibly itch, “as the captain suggested, I could use some lubrication. This salty air is not beneficial to creatures of the metal persuasion. You might, while you're at it, oil that sword in your pack, Master Finn. I expect it's been affected too.”
“Thank you for the advice,” Finn said, tossing the lizard a frosty look that Letitia couldn't see. She flicked her brass tongue and pretended she'd dropped off to sleep-which, like itching, was a talent reserved for creatures of skin and bone, not those of copper, iron and scraps of tin.
“I almost wish we hadn't come,” Letitia said, taking up her thoughts again. “I miss our house and my kitchen. I even miss the smells of Garpenny Street. They are odors less than sweet, to be sure, but they are
“Yes, well, you'll like Antoline Island when we get there,” Finn assured her quickly. “I understand the hotel is practically new, and the beach is quite grand …”
“That boy,” she said, as if he hadn't spoken at all, “he was injured, you said. And no one, certainly not his-his
“I have indeed,” Finn said.
“Before the Change, they were as hungry for my kind as the Yowlies were, Finn. But that's not their way now. They're different, but the Yowlies are the same …”
She paused, and held him with her magnificent dark eyes.
“We remember sometimes, all the Newlies do. It's there in our heads from those who came before. Sometimes I'm running through a burrow, squeezing through a musty hole running for my life. It isn't me, Finn, but it is. It's there, and it doesn't go away just because you want it to.”
“I'm sorry,” she said, shaking her fears away once more. “I can't help being what I am.”
“There is nothing else I want you to be,” he told her. “Nothing but what you are.”
“Yes, I know. And I thank you, Finn.”
He wanted desperately to take her in his arms, hold her, and assure her the world would surely change, that all that was wrong would then be set aright. He knew, though, that this wasn't so, that Letitia knew it as well as he.
Newlies had the same rights as humans, but laws are only as good as people want them to be. The Foxer boy was a servant in name, but in truth, little more than a slave. The counselor couple had “hired” him from someone who dealt in such things, and the boy could never get away.
Things should change, and they would, Finn knew, but not today or tomorrow, not when Letitia wanted them to …
“I should have stayed to help,” Julia said, when Letitia had dropped off to sleep, and a candle made shadows on the walls. “I could have bitten that lout's hand off and saved you a little time.”
“For once,” Finn said, “you did exactly what you should have done. If you had joined the fray, they'd all know now you are neither an ornament nor a toy. We've been through this before. Many people are not quite ready for talking hunks of tin.”
“Hunks of tin, is it?”
“So to speak. I suppose one could word it another way.”
“Surely one could.”
“Do not be quick to take offense, Julia. I am not in the mood for this.”
“Don't be quick to give it, then. I've got feelings too, you know.”
“Yes, I do know,” Finn said with a sigh of resignation, not far in truth from a sigh of regret. “Whatever came over me to fill you with emotions, like a baker squeezing custard into a tart? I must have been reeling drunk to do such a fool thing as that.”
“You were quite sober, as a fact,” Julia said. “A glorious moment, a brilliant achievement, the high point of your life, the-”
“That's quite enough. Be still, now, I'm taking a nap.”
“Then I will too.”
“We are both aware that you can't do that.”
“Sleep well,” Julia yawned. “I shall wake up promptly at six …”
5
With the setting of the sun, the sea had changed from a very pleasant blue to a most unseemly green. The wind was up, having its way, blowing from the south for a moment, then shifting to the west. Crossways, sideways, this way and that. All this mischief played havoc with the
Captain Magreet stood on his quarterdeck shaking his fists, cursing the crew as the crew cursed him, shouting out orders that changed from one moment to the next.
“In for bit of a blow, are we, Captain?” Finn asked. “Smells like rain to me.”
“Ah, does it now?” Magreet sent him a withering look. “So you're a master of gizzards, and a master of storms as well?”
“Lizards, it is. And I meant no disrespect, sir. It was merely an effort to be polite.”
Magreet spat a gobbet at the deck. “Well, take your bloody manners somewhere else. I've no use for them here.”
