Annika to speak French and serving as her guide to the New World.
The loneliness of leaving home had been easier to bear with Elena—and initially, Annika had hoped that friendship might become more. But the passionate longing she dreamed of never developed and her guts never felt riveted, no matter how much Annika would have welcomed it at the time.
Perhaps it was for the best, though. Like most New Worlders, Elena probably wouldn’t have welcomed any romantic advances—and if found out, Annika would have lost her position on the airship…or worse, if she was reported to anyone other than the captain.
In any case, as the years had passed, Annika had grown to value Elena’s friendship more. Love could wait until after she found Källa—if it ever came at all.
Elena turned away from the washstand and stopped abruptly, spotting Annika. “Oh!” Apology tugged her lips into a grimace. “Ididn’t mean to wake you. They started bringing dinner into the wardroom, and with the jolting, I couldn’t bear the smell.”
Her friend did appear a bit bald around the beak. Annika hadn’t even noticed the airship’s rough rocking, or that the storm had come in. Yet another reason to stop herself from daydreaming. “I wasn’t sleeping.”
“How could anyone in this? I hope we cast off soon. The cargo’s almost all up and most of the crew aboard; we’re just waiting for the mail, and of course the post delivery is late. Did you just come back from the city?”
“A little while ago.”
“Have you spoken with the chief yet?”
Chief Leroux, the head engineer. Annika hadn’t seen him since her return. “Why? Did he send for me while I was out?”
“And got Mary, instead. She was steaming mad, too, having to take García’s watch.”
The first engineer ought to have been on duty now, not Mary. “Why did she have to?”
“Because García’s off ship. His wife came to visit. Five minutes later, he turned in his papers and decided to stay in Castile.” Elena’s arched brows and gleeful tone told Annika that she wouldn’t like whatever her friend had to say next. “And that makes
you
the first engineer.”
Oh, blast. Annika hoped not. García had twice as many duties as she did.
Elena laughed at her expression. “Look at you. Anyone else would be happy to take another step closer to a chief’s ticket. I’d be dancing for joy if I was dumped into the first mate’s position like this—and wouldn’t stop pushing until I was master of a ship.”
Yes, but Annika wasn’t here to make a career out of it. “Leroux will bring someone else aboard as first. Neither Mary nor I know the electric generators well.”
“You could learn.”
That was Elena’s answer to everything. “I’d rather spend my time sewing than studying schematics.”
Elena cast a critical look at Annika’s voluminous crimson skirt. “You
could
use the practice.”
Annika gasped and narrowed her eyes at the other woman, but wasn’t the least bit upset. Elena often wore the less elaborate pieces that Annika had given her. Her skill with a needle wasn’t in question; her taste was. Annika loved her clothes, however—and considering that her mother had often said the same of Annika’s penchant for bright colors and ribbons, the teasing simply felt like home.
“Say that again the next time you rip out the seat of your trousers and come looking for me to fix it.”
“And be pricked in the derriere for my honesty? I’ll hold my tongue until you’re done.” With a grin, Elena climbed the short ladder to her bunk. “Was there any word from your sister?”
Annika shook her head. In four years, there hadn’t been a response, though she’d regularly placed personal advertisements in every newssheet from Sweden to Far Maghreb. She’d have to soon find a different ship, a different route.
Phatéon
traveled from the tip of the southern American continent to the Scandinavian kingdoms, England, and Ireland, but avoided the more
The loneliness of leaving home had been easier to bear with Elena—and initially, Annika had hoped that friendship might become more. But the passionate longing she dreamed of never developed and her guts never felt riveted, no matter how much Annika would have welcomed it at the time.
Perhaps it was for the best, though. Like most New Worlders, Elena probably wouldn’t have welcomed any romantic advances—and if found out, Annika would have lost her position on the airship…or worse, if she was reported to anyone other than the captain.
In any case, as the years had passed, Annika had grown to value Elena’s friendship more. Love could wait until after she found Källa—if it ever came at all.
Elena turned away from the washstand and stopped abruptly, spotting Annika. “Oh!” Apology tugged her lips into a grimace. “Ididn’t mean to wake you. They started bringing dinner into the wardroom, and with the jolting, I couldn’t bear the smell.”
Her friend did appear a bit bald around the beak. Annika hadn’t even noticed the airship’s rough rocking, or that the storm had come in. Yet another reason to stop herself from daydreaming. “I wasn’t sleeping.”
“How could anyone in this? I hope we cast off soon. The cargo’s almost all up and most of the crew aboard; we’re just waiting for the mail, and of course the post delivery is late. Did you just come back from the city?”
“A little while ago.”
“Have you spoken with the chief yet?”
Chief Leroux, the head engineer. Annika hadn’t seen him since her return. “Why? Did he send for me while I was out?”
“And got Mary, instead. She was steaming mad, too, having to take García’s watch.”
The first engineer ought to have been on duty now, not Mary. “Why did she have to?”
“Because García’s off ship. His wife came to visit. Five minutes later, he turned in his papers and decided to stay in Castile.” Elena’s arched brows and gleeful tone told Annika that she wouldn’t like whatever her friend had to say next. “And that makes
you
the first engineer.”
Oh, blast. Annika hoped not. García had twice as many duties as she did.
Elena laughed at her expression. “Look at you. Anyone else would be happy to take another step closer to a chief’s ticket. I’d be dancing for joy if I was dumped into the first mate’s position like this—and wouldn’t stop pushing until I was master of a ship.”
Yes, but Annika wasn’t here to make a career out of it. “Leroux will bring someone else aboard as first. Neither Mary nor I know the electric generators well.”
“You could learn.”
That was Elena’s answer to everything. “I’d rather spend my time sewing than studying schematics.”
Elena cast a critical look at Annika’s voluminous crimson skirt. “You
could
use the practice.”
Annika gasped and narrowed her eyes at the other woman, but wasn’t the least bit upset. Elena often wore the less elaborate pieces that Annika had given her. Her skill with a needle wasn’t in question; her taste was. Annika loved her clothes, however—and considering that her mother had often said the same of Annika’s penchant for bright colors and ribbons, the teasing simply felt like home.
“Say that again the next time you rip out the seat of your trousers and come looking for me to fix it.”
“And be pricked in the derriere for my honesty? I’ll hold my tongue until you’re done.” With a grin, Elena climbed the short ladder to her bunk. “Was there any word from your sister?”
Annika shook her head. In four years, there hadn’t been a response, though she’d regularly placed personal advertisements in every newssheet from Sweden to Far Maghreb. She’d have to soon find a different ship, a different route.
Phatéon
traveled from the tip of the southern American continent to the Scandinavian kingdoms, England, and Ireland, but avoided the more
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