half-turned away from the sight of the kraken—trying not to be sick again, Zenobia realized. Aside from its gaping eye, the kraken hadn’t begun to truly smell, though it couldn’t be long before rot set in. The heat and humidity were oppressive. If not for her dunking in the ocean, Zenobia feared that she would have begun to smell by now, too.
Helene obviously wouldn’t be coming any closer to speak with her. Zenobia trudged through the soft white sand, her notebook clutched in her hand. Farther along the beach, a boy chased through a flock of gulls gathering to pick at the butchered end of a tentacle.
Always collecting information, Mara chatted with the young townswoman watching the boy—and Cooper stood in the shade provided by the kraken’s enormous body, watching over them all.
Lieutenant Blanchett waited with Helene, offering a handkerchief and a steadying arm. The officer had reached the lifeboats after leaving Zenobia and Helene in their cabin; Zenobia had been relieved to see him among the others when the ironship had rescued the aviators. Not everyone had made it, including the airship’s captain.
“Oh, Geraldine,” Helene told her. “I was coming to tell you that I’d found a seamstress’s shop, and she has ready-made items that she’s willing to alter for us. But the lieutenant has just told me the most dreadful news.”
Zenobia looked to the lieutenant, whose grave expression had not lightened since the first aviator’s body had been pulled from the water. This day had been horrible enough. What could be worse?
“How dreadful?”
“It will be a month before we’ll reach the Red City!”
Not so very terrible, then. Just odd. “We flew all the way from Denmark in a few weeks,” Zenobia said. “A small continent cannot be crossed in less time?”
“If we had transportation,” Blanchett said. “But no airships are available. They’ve all been destroyed by the same marauders who fired on us. Commander Saito has orders to remain in these waters for the next few months, so he can’t carry us to the Red City. If I write a letter, he’s offered to post it when they rendezvous with another ironship to the south. But it’s likely that several weeks will pass before the message reaches the embassy and they can arrange for a ship to retrieve us.”
“It won’t take so long,” Helene said. “My husband is waiting for me. He’ll begin searching for us soon.”
“But he couldn’t know to look for us here. Our airship might have gone down anywhere in the Western Ocean.” Blanchett shook his head. “I am sorry, madame. I know this is a disappointment.”
Judging by Helene’s pinched, worried face, far worse than a disappointment. Zenobia asked, “And what of traveling by land?”
“It shouldn’t be attempted. We have no supplies, few weapons, and little more than the clothes on our backs. I’ve also been advised that traveling through aboriginal territories without permission or a guide would strain the relationships between these settlers and the tribes—and I can’t know what they would make of a regiment of marines marching through their lands. Far better to stay where we are welcomed and won’t cause any unrest.”
A sensible answer, yet a distressing one. Helene’s eyes filled with tears and she turned her face away.
Zenobia took her hand. “I’m sure there will be another way, Helene.”
With determination firming her lips, Helene nodded.
Zenobia gave her fingers another reassuring squeeze. They would find a way. Though in truth, she wouldn’t have minded staying in Krakentown. A full month to sketch and take notes, and to talk with the people. Several of the townspeople she’d already met had spoken French, the trader’s language, so she would get along perfectly well. The town itself seemed pleasant, and even though most of the people had apparently been smugglers or pirates at one time, it was nothing like a smugglers’ den.
Though no one had said as
Helene obviously wouldn’t be coming any closer to speak with her. Zenobia trudged through the soft white sand, her notebook clutched in her hand. Farther along the beach, a boy chased through a flock of gulls gathering to pick at the butchered end of a tentacle.
Always collecting information, Mara chatted with the young townswoman watching the boy—and Cooper stood in the shade provided by the kraken’s enormous body, watching over them all.
Lieutenant Blanchett waited with Helene, offering a handkerchief and a steadying arm. The officer had reached the lifeboats after leaving Zenobia and Helene in their cabin; Zenobia had been relieved to see him among the others when the ironship had rescued the aviators. Not everyone had made it, including the airship’s captain.
“Oh, Geraldine,” Helene told her. “I was coming to tell you that I’d found a seamstress’s shop, and she has ready-made items that she’s willing to alter for us. But the lieutenant has just told me the most dreadful news.”
Zenobia looked to the lieutenant, whose grave expression had not lightened since the first aviator’s body had been pulled from the water. This day had been horrible enough. What could be worse?
“How dreadful?”
“It will be a month before we’ll reach the Red City!”
Not so very terrible, then. Just odd. “We flew all the way from Denmark in a few weeks,” Zenobia said. “A small continent cannot be crossed in less time?”
“If we had transportation,” Blanchett said. “But no airships are available. They’ve all been destroyed by the same marauders who fired on us. Commander Saito has orders to remain in these waters for the next few months, so he can’t carry us to the Red City. If I write a letter, he’s offered to post it when they rendezvous with another ironship to the south. But it’s likely that several weeks will pass before the message reaches the embassy and they can arrange for a ship to retrieve us.”
“It won’t take so long,” Helene said. “My husband is waiting for me. He’ll begin searching for us soon.”
“But he couldn’t know to look for us here. Our airship might have gone down anywhere in the Western Ocean.” Blanchett shook his head. “I am sorry, madame. I know this is a disappointment.”
Judging by Helene’s pinched, worried face, far worse than a disappointment. Zenobia asked, “And what of traveling by land?”
“It shouldn’t be attempted. We have no supplies, few weapons, and little more than the clothes on our backs. I’ve also been advised that traveling through aboriginal territories without permission or a guide would strain the relationships between these settlers and the tribes—and I can’t know what they would make of a regiment of marines marching through their lands. Far better to stay where we are welcomed and won’t cause any unrest.”
A sensible answer, yet a distressing one. Helene’s eyes filled with tears and she turned her face away.
Zenobia took her hand. “I’m sure there will be another way, Helene.”
With determination firming her lips, Helene nodded.
Zenobia gave her fingers another reassuring squeeze. They would find a way. Though in truth, she wouldn’t have minded staying in Krakentown. A full month to sketch and take notes, and to talk with the people. Several of the townspeople she’d already met had spoken French, the trader’s language, so she would get along perfectly well. The town itself seemed pleasant, and even though most of the people had apparently been smugglers or pirates at one time, it was nothing like a smugglers’ den.
Though no one had said as
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