Pippa
“Ithought we were taking the carriage the whole way.” I glance over my shoulder at the man dressed in a blue uniform retrieving our luggage from the undercarriage.
“No.” Shemaiah follows my gaze, then faces forward, waiting for the next ticket window in the depot as a single man ahead of us finishes his purchase. “I’d rather we were… comfortable.”
I want to argue that the carriage was one of the most comfortable vehicles I’ve ever been in, but the words die when I look up at the metal and glass leviathan above us. I’ve never been in an airship before, having ridden the locomotive from New Caldon to New Essik.
The airship is shaped like an oblong bubble that gleams in the light when the sun reflects off the polished metal. Five parallel lines of porthole windows from one end of the airliner to the other tell me it’s massive inside.
The ship makes a loud guttural noise as someone shouts something from above. Men hang from ropes at the top. I can’t tell what they’re doing, but I imagine they’re checking to be sure everything is ready for travel. In the sky. Hundreds of feet above the ground.
The loudspeaker crackles, and a voice announces the time of the impending launch.
“Have you been in one before?” I ask Shemaiah.
“Not in a long while.”
The woman behind the counter slides two tickets forward. Shemaiah pockets them inside his jacket. One ticket alone costs what I made in three months as a maid.
“I’m not fond of traveling,” Shemaiah adds as we join the line to board the ship. A set of stairs climbs up to a cabin where an attendant in a blue and silver uniform greets richly dressed passengers as they enter.
It’s well known that the Roans rarely leave their island, but it’s not surprising to me that Shemaiah particularly dislikes traveling.
He’s a homebody, much like I am. Yet, he’s making the trek all the way to New Caldon, and he’s doing it for me.
Just as I’m doing it for Tobias. That realization expands my heart.
Stepping closer, I take a deep breath and temper my trepidation about this new experience and my shame over the cost. It’ll all be worth it when I find Tobias. I’ll beg and borrow and accept every handout if it means my boy is safe and provided for. No matter how uncomfortable it might make me.
Shemaiah’s hand on my back startles a little gasp out of me.
“Sorry.” He withdraws, stripping me of his touch. He looks down at the two tickets in his hands. “They only had one sleeper car left.”
“Oh.” I glance up at the ship and nod, unwilling to spend too much thought on the possibilities that might hold. “Alright.”
“I assumed you wouldn’t want to wait, but if you—”
I touch his arm. “It’s fine, Maiah.” Our eyes catch and hold.
“We could leave tomorrow instead,” he offers.
I shake my head. “I don’t want to leave tomorrow.”
It’s not just about getting to Tobias as soon as possible.
If I’m honest with myself, I want to be close to Shemaiah.
I don’t want to be by myself the way I was when I came to New Essik, alone and pregnant.
Shemaiah is the only stable ground in my life right now, and I want him nearby.
Even if it’s temporary. Even if it’s pretend.
Even with what happened last night. Maybe especially because of what happened last night.
“I don’t want to wait until tomorrow either,” he whispers.
Static electricity zips between us, an energy racing from my hand on his arm down to my toes.
I glance at the porter collecting our baggage.
It’s easier than looking at Shemaiah and trying to interpret his words.
He only wants to leave today because of my boy.
Because I’m his friend, and he’s invested in helping me solve the mystery of where Tobias is. Because…
His gaze drops to my lips.
I swallow.
His breath fans the tendrils of hair around my face. “Pippa, I—”
A whistle sounds.
“All aboard,” someone yells.
Shemaiah’s smile is uncertain. “Shall we?”
With his hand on the small of my back, he leads me to the staircase. We climb to the top, and Shemaiah shows the man our tickets.
“Mr. Roan.” The cruise director’s eyes go wide as he offers a greedy smile.
“It’s a pleasure to have you on board the Starburst.” His eyes turn to me, and he offers a brief bow.
“Welcome aboard, Mrs. Roan. I hadn’t heard the happy news.
Are we fortunate enough to have you join us on your honeymoon?
” A grin breaks out on his face. “I wish I’d known ahead of time! ”
I start to correct him, but Shemaiah’s hand squeezes my waist.
“It was a last-minute decision,” Shemaiah says. “Don’t trouble yourself.”
“Well, if there’s anything you need, please just let us know.” He motions another man over, and tells him to show us to our room. “You can watch the liftoff from the observation deck. And I’ll be sure to have the staff reserve you a private table for dinner.”
“Thank you.” Shemaiah leads me into the ship with the palm of his hand on my back.
The interior is even more lavish than I imagined.
The floor of the main lobby is decorated with a mosaic of white tile, dotted with gray and gold starbursts.
Workers in variations of gray and silver, blue, white and gold livery bustle around the room, leading other patrons dressed in their finest daywear toward a wide staircase that draws my eye up and up.
Above us, there’s a massive stained glass window made to look like the night sky shining with stars.
My breath catches. There are four floors of balconies lined with golden metal railings.
“What do you think, Mrs. Roan?” Shemaiah says in my ear.
I raise my eyebrows, glancing at him. “Mrs. Roan? I’ve been upgraded again.”
He turns serious, eyes darting away. “It was easier with the shared room. You know how people can be. You saw the cruise director.”
“You’d rather have them gossip about your sudden marriage than a brief interlude sharing a room with an unmarried woman?” I’m somewhat surprised. Shemaiah doesn’t seem to be one to do things for propriety's sake.
He leans in and brings his lips to my ear. “Who said anything about it being brief?”
Gooseflesh pebbles the skin at my neck and sends a shiver down my spine. I turn my head to look at him, finding him far too close. My breath sputters. “It can’t be anything but brief.”
His eyes darken almost to black as he frowns, but he doesn’t argue.
There’s no argument to be made. We both know I’m dying.
He could bite me on Solstice, but he’d have to love me.
I might have to love him, too, in order for it to work.
Noah isn’t clear yet on whether both parties need to be in love or just the Mavarri.
Not enough data. Either way, we’re not there yet.
I doubt Shemaiah ever will be. He’s made it clear a Solstice bite isn’t something he’ll ever offer again.
Not after watching someone he cared about die from one.
“Would you like me to escort you to your room, Mr. and Mrs. Roan?” the porter interrupts, cracking the tension between us. “Or would you like to observe liftoff first?”
Shemaiah raises a single brow, allowing me to decide.
The choice isn’t really between the observation deck and our room, but rather what might happen if we go to the room, and if I’m brave enough to pursue it.
Do I want a moment of bliss to take with me into the afterlife?
And at what cost? We were able to make it through last night’s bite, but that doesn’t mean another bite, and what might follow, won’t change things.
Could we manage to stay friends? What will happen to Tobias if Shemaiah and I have a falling out?
I can’t risk my son’s future.
“I’d like to watch the liftoff,” I say, avoiding the possible entanglement that would only confuse things further.
Turning away, I follow the porter without looking back to see if Shemaiah follows.