Heir of Thunder (Stormbourne Chronicles Book 1) (18 page)

Even though I detested the grueling work of keeping The Bull
and Ram clean, I couldn’t deny Anatella and Antonio had done me a great
kindness by giving me a job and a place to sleep. Guilt weighed heavy in my
heart as I approached them the evening before my departure. I meant to tell
them of my intentions to travel on to Pecia with the Fantazikes, but I felt as
though I would be betraying them, somehow.

“Anatella, she say she hope you might stay, but she know you
have a... what is the word?” Antonio scratched his chin as he thought. Anatella
patted his arm, encouraging him to continue. They sat with me in the empty
dining room where I had asked them to join me. “She say you have a destiny—is
this right?”

“Destiny means that someone has a pre-determined purpose for
their life,” I said. “Don’t know if I believe in such a thing, though.”

Antonio nodded his head. “Yes, destiny. Anatella say you
have something bigger for your life than this place.” He jabbed a finger at the
table. “She say she see it around you like a light.
I
say maybe she
loca
.”
Antonio swirled his index finger around his temple to indicate a mixed up
brain.

Anatella didn’t miss the gesture and swatted her brother
before rattling off another round of words. He cringed, but translated again. “She
say if she wrong, you come back here. She will find work for you. You work
good. She like you.”

His sister’s eyes glowed, and she patted my hand.

I smiled back. “Tell her I like her, too, and tell her....”
During my few weeks in San Marena, I had learned a few words, and knew how to
express my thanks. “Gracias, Anatella. Muchas, muchas gracias.”

Anatella’s smile broadened and she blinked as if she had
something in her eye.

“Antonio,” I said, but stopped and cleared my throat. My
eyes burned, but I had sworn I would get through this without crying. “I like
you, too, and thank you for all that you’ve done. You have been a good friend—a
miracle. Remember?”

He cut his gaze to the tabletop. A pink flush lit his
cheeks. “Yes, yes, you maybe write me? Tell me about Pecia. It will be good for
me to practice this way.”

“I’ll write. I promise.” I didn’t have so many friends in my
life that I could afford to forget any of them.

***

Before I left San Marena, one more person remained to whom I
needed to say goodbye. Antonio drew a simple map for me, and I followed it to
the front doors of the cathedral where Morello had deposited Nathalie and the
other girls after our daring escape. I went around to the side door and tapped
the knocker.

The same, aged kareeyatid from our previous visit greeted me
at the door in her brilliant red robes and wimple. I bent my knee and bowed my
head before her. When I rose up and faced her, she smiled at me and said, “Nathalie?”

“Sí, madre.”
Yes, mother.

She ushered me into a cool stone hallway lit by fragrant oil
lamps. Then she shut the door behind me and motioned for me to follow her down
a long, dim corridor, through another door, around several corners, and finally
outside again, into a courtyard. A dark headed girl knelt over a bed of green
plants, working in the dirt with a stick.

My escort cleared her throat. “Nathalie?”

She turned, saw me, and smiled. She stood, brushing her
hands on her apron. “Evie, what a wonderful surprise.” Nathalie approached and
brushed a soft kiss across each of my cheeks. “Madre Angelina, le presento mi
amiga, Evie. Evie, this is Mother Angelina. She is the leader of the kareeyatids
here.”

Mother Angelina said something to Nathalie and smiled at me.
Then she turned and left the courtyard.

“She said she will leave us to visit,” Nathalie explained.

“What are you working on?” I asked, motioning to Nathalie’s
bed of greenery.

“I’m weeding the herb garden.”

I stepped closer and examined the neat rows of plants. “My
housekeeper had an herb garden. It’s what I remember about her most. She always
smelled like comfrey.”

“We have comfrey.” Nathalie crouched and fingered the wide,
flat leaf of a little plant growing in a round and bushy configuration. “Good
for many things.”

“So they’ve found a place for you already? You’ll be the
herb gardener for the kareeyatids?”

Nathalie chuckled and shook her head. “No. They will not let
me stay unless I take my purity vows, and it is a little too late for that, I
am afraid.”

“So what will you do?”

“They have found a job for me. I will be a governess again.”

“Is that what you want?”

Nathalie shrugged and smiled a sad smile. “It is better than
being a slave, no? And I like to teach.”

“What about the other girls?”

Nathalie knelt before her garden and poked her stick deep
beneath a stubborn weed. She pried it lose and tossed it aside. “Marie is
thinking of staying. She likes the library and the librarian is even older than
Mother Angelina. She needs an apprentice. Salma and Heba are having a harder
time. They are Gytshan and not so easily accepted in this city. Mother Angelina
has said they can stay until something works out. For now, they have jobs in
the kitchen and in the laundry. It’s not much better than slave labor, but they
are treated kindly, and fed well, which is something, at least.”

“If you could. Would you go back to Galland?”

Nathalie’s head jerked up and she peered at me with a wary
gaze. “Why do you ask?”

I told her about my encounter with the Fantazikes and their
proposal to carry me to Galland. “I could probably convince them to bring you,
too.”

Nathalie gaped at me. Several times she opened her mouth as
if to say something, but no words came out. Her eyes watered, and her sudden
display of emotion alarmed me. On the pirate’s ship, and in the wagon, and even
in the cellar of a slave trader, she had showed only cool determination and
self-composure. What had I said to break her cool composure?

“I’m sorry, Nathalie, I didn’t mean to upset you.” I bent
and crouched beside her. “I just assumed—”

Nathalie waved me off and wiped her eyes, leaving a smudge
of dirt on her cheek. “No, no. It is kind of you to give me this opportunity.
Generous of you to ask. But no. There is nothing in Galland for me, anymore. I
have a job here, and the kareeyatids, and Salma and Heba and Marie, and that is
more than anything I have had in a long time. I will stay, Evie.” She sniffed
and smiled. “But I will think of you always.”

I hugged her. “I’ll think of you, too. And maybe I’ll see
you again, someday. You never know what will happen.”

***

The next day Malita and Niffin arrived at the Bull and Ram
to collect me. Anatella and Antonio saw me off with hugs and the remaining
wages she owed me. Anatella also presented me with a small package containing a
woolen shawl similar to the one she always wore. It made me think of my Thunder
Cloak, and I inhaled a few deep breaths to chase away my tears.

Antonio stood beside his sister and seemed more sober than
usual. He kissed my hand and performed a gentlemanly bow, but had little, for
once, to say. Anatella wiped her eyes and sent me off with a stiff thump to my
back.

I had no possessions to bring on our trip, but I had
retrieved Malita’s drawing things for her. Her delight showed clearly on her
face when I presented them to her.

Niffin’s people launched the first of their airships as we
arrived. I climbed the
Charosvardo’s
swaying ladder again—more
courageously than last time—and followed Niffin and Malita into the galley that
smelled like rising bread and garlic. Here, Niffin introduced me to the rest of
the Tippany family. His father, Timony, bowed before disappearing to the deck
to prepare for liftoff. Niffin’s mother, Emorelle, eyed me warily, obviously
uncertain of my status as a foreigner and a stranger. Niffin’s silver haired
grandmother stood behind Emorelle and greeted me with sparkling eyes and a
mischievous grin.

I curtsied to them both as ladylike as I could manage in my
boots and road worn attire. “Thank you for allowing me to travel with you. You’ve
done me a great kindness, and it is appreciated.”

“My son says you have money?” Emorelle asked.

“Yes, madam. I have saved a little.”

“Then you will buy yourself something more appropriate to
wear. We will not abide you looking like a vagrant.”

“
Mother
.” This admonition came from Niffin’s sister,
Melainey, who looked like a younger replica of their mother. “Have some pity on
her.”

Emorelle said something in the Fantazike tongue, and it made
their grandmother cackle, revealing her lack of teeth. “You take this girl and
find her some clothes of yours,” Emorelle said in Inselgrish. “If she is going
to be our guest, she will abide our ways.”

“I don’t mind,” I said. “Your clothes are beautiful. I would
be happy to wear something so lovely.” I preferred the comfort of my split
skirt for riding, but what were the chances of saddling a horse while flying
hundreds of feet in the air? Besides, I had worn my clothes for several weeks
straight, washing them occasionally in Anatella’s dish sink when my attire
gathered too many stains. I welcomed the change.

Emorelle nodded and dismissed us with a wave. Melainey led
Niffin, Malita, and me to her room, grumbling under her breath the whole way.
She dug through her trunks and supplied me with a long indigo skirt, wide
leather belt, a soft muslin shirt, and a fitted, black velveteen jacket.

“How long do you suppose it will take us to get to Pecia?” I
asked Niffin while his sister put away her discarded clothing.

“A few days. We could go faster, but we will probably stop
along the way in some of the small towns and try our luck for a night or two.
We cannot afford to go long distances without making a profit on the way.”

“I don’t mean to offend, but why the constant travelling? Do
the Fantazikes have a home? A country to call their own?”

His face flushed, and he shook his head. “Our home is the sky,
Evie. It is the only place that ever truly accepted us.” He shrugged and smiled
as if it was no matter, but my question had obviously poked a sore spot.

Niffin and his family deserved my deference, not my
intrusiveness, so I swallowed my remaining questions. Their secrets were theirs
to keep, and I had no right trying to pry them loose. I had done nothing to
deserve that kind of trust.

“Father is almost ready for lift off,” Niffin said. “If you
have never experienced it, then you do not want to miss it. I’ll meet you in
the hallway after you’ve dressed.”

Melainey declined her brother’s offer, preferring to stay in
her room with a new book that she had acquired in San Marena. After I slipped
into my borrowed clothing, Niffin led Malita and I away from Melainey’s room
and down a corridor that opened onto the deck. Before we stepped into the open
air, he halted at a closet and tugged open the door. “The air is frigid at the
altitudes we travel. The winds can be fierce, so grab a coat and a pair of
goggles before you go out.”

In the closet, we found a row of dusky colored cloaks of a
coarse fabric coated in oil, like a rain slicker. Shearling lined the inside,
providing an additional layer of warmth. A collection of leather and brass
goggles with tinted lenses sat on a shelf above the coats. After Malita and I
suited up, we fell against each other, laughing at how ridiculous we looked.

“You look like a creature from a story book,” I said to her.
“A goblin.”

She laughed again and said something in a funny, deep voice.
She pointed emphatically at my goggles and coughed a strange little growl. Did
her village have myths about strange creatures as well?
I’ll have to ask
Niffin, sometime.

We joined Niffin and his father on deck. Timony stood at the
ship’s helm behind a large wooden steering wheel. “It works almost exactly like
a sea vessel,” he told us. “We float on air currents and the wheel controls the
rudder to turn us in the direction we wish to fly.”

“There’s got to be more to it than that,” I said.

“There
is
more to it than that, but we cannot give
away all our secrets, can we?” Timony winked. He shared the same amethyst
colored eyes as his son.

Malita grabbed my arm and dragged me to the railing behind
the helm. She leaned over and peered at the ground beneath us. I followed her
lead until dizziness forced me to back away. Timony shouted commands and Niffin
skipped across the deck, switching levers and turning knobs. The ship rose, and
Malita and I clutched each other while the horizon sank beneath us.

The landscape eventually dropped so far below us that I
could no longer see anything but sky and clouds. Cold, crisp air licked at my
cheeks and nose. I turned up the collar of my cloak and nestled into its
warmth. We flew in silence for a long time, enjoying the sensation of gliding
through the air.

“Let’s go in,” Niffin said after a while. “Puri, my
grandmother, will have lunch ready by now.”

***

Later in the afternoon, Malita urged me back to the deck
where Niffin had taken the controls from his father. The shadowy forms of the
other Fantazike ships floated in the distance, some flying higher or lower, but
all within sight of each other.

Niffin pointed to a crop of dark clouds gathering off the
port bow and shouted over the rising winds. “Storm ahead!”

“Are you going to fly around it?” I asked.

He laughed and shook his head. “No. We are heading right for
the middle of it.”

A distant streak of lightning cut through the clouds and
sent out a sharp finger, stabbing toward the earth. A rumble of thunder rolled
over the deck.

I studied the clouds again and a rush of panic surged
through me. “Why would you do that?”

Niffin winked. “You’re about to learn one of our secrets.”