1 The sky stretched above me, pale with streaks of pink. Beautiful. But where was our ceiling? Had my house been blown open in the night? Or was I dead, and this was what was next? Did our souls really rise up when our bodies went into the ground? To sway in the sky? Because my bed lifted and sank, lifted and sank. I must be sick. Why didn''t Mother come to feel my forehead, to check my fever, to cool me? My sisters cried, sharp and piercing. Poor Kammi and Tye must have been sick, too. Where was Mother? Father? Didn''t they hear us? Why didn''t they come? "I''ll help you," I tried to tell Kammi and Tye. I reached out my hand from under the blankets.
No, one wasn''t a blanket, it was my coat. That was right, it had been a bombing night. I''d slept under my coat. The other was a blanket, but not my own. It was gray-blue, woolen, heavy, and damp. It smelled fishy, like the sea. The sea, the sea . The sea .
The sea! Gulls cried above us. Not my sisters. The boat''s motors slowed. Land ahead. "Are you feeling better?" the fisherman asked. Had I been sick, then? "Better?" "Rough night. After it got choppy you lay down, clutching your stomach." It was better knowing that Mother wasn''t here.
Better than having called and called her when I was sick, to have her ignore me and Kammi and Tye, when we needed her. She wouldn''t do that. "I feel okay. That''s Eilean?" "It is." My stomach gave another awful swoop. I had never been to Eilean. I would set foot in a new country for the first time. Alone.
But Megs, my best friend, would be there. She had set out ahead of me. We would find each other. She had said she would be with me, whatever happened. I was the one who''d fallen behind, but I''d promised to catch up. Megs? Megs? I called for her in my heart, like we''d practiced. It had worked one time in the past, our silent way of reaching for each other. But there was no answer.
My fault. I sat up. I felt better looking over the edge of the boat--watching the deep blue water rock and sway made it feel more natural for my body to be doing it, too. "What are you meant to do in Eilean?" the fisherman asked. I watched the waves for another moment, gently biting my lip. "I don''t know. I was just told to get there." I was sorry I couldn''t tell him more.
He had shuttled me across the water overnight at a moment''s notice. Could I say that the Tyssia-Erobern Empire was about to occupy Sofarende? I knew that our country was far behind us, but its absence from the horizon made a lump rise in my throat. As if Sofarende already were no more. I might not be welcome back there anyway, not ever again, if anyone had figured out what I''d done. "You should stay when we get to Eilean," I said, the most I could hint. "I''ve got two little ones at home. They''re probably worried because I didn''t come back last night." A boy and a girl, faces pressed against their front window, waiting for their father.
Their mother, even more anxious, pretending she wasn''t, hovering nearby. I sat back and drew my knees up to my chest. "I''m sorry. It''s my fault you didn''t go home." We should have taken the time to get his family. I hadn''t thought. "Not at all. Orders are orders.
" "How did you stay out of the military?" I asked. Most men his age had been called up to serve. "Twisted leg. My foot turns the wrong way. No good for marching. But just fine in a boat. My arms are strong, I can cast out my net and pull it back in. How did you get in it?" "Didn''t they have the test in your town?" "What test?" Maybe they hadn''t.
Or maybe he hadn''t paid attention because his own children were too young. "The Army Adolescent Aptitude Test. For children who wanted to serve." If you''d passed the test, you had to spend the rest of the war in the army. But they''d taken us from the bombed cities, kept us safe and fed. It was what my parents had hoped for. "What are you, twelve years old?" "Almost thirteen." I tightened my arms around my knees, pulling them to my chest.
"What is the world coming to?" Did anyone know? I raised my eyes to the sky. Still no aerials. "Are there dybnauts out here?" On land, I feared attack from the sky; on the sea, should I look into the depths below, for the deep-undersea boats? The public believed that Tyssia had no access to the sea, but at Faetre, the manor house full of war secrets where we who''d passed the test had worked, my friend Annevi had told me otherwise. "In the night I saw plenty of Sofarender and Eilean ships headed in the same direction as us. All sizes. What''s going on?" I bit my lip again. "You should pick up your children and come back." "I don''t have permits to land in Eilean.
" "Wait--you--?" "Calm down. You do. Your yellow transit card is pretty powerful." "But if you can''t land--" "You''ll swim." "Swim! I--I can''t!" "A Sofarender who can''t swim?" "I''m from the south, not the coast--I--" "They didn''t teach you that in your training?" "I didn''t have any kind of training." Unfortunately. The fisherman shook his head in amused disbelief. First they take children into the army, then they provide them with no training whatsoever.
I had no good answers for him. It had seemed like our proctors had cared for us. Had maybe saved our lives by taking us. Now that it was lighter out, I could see that the fisherman''s stubble had grown in overnight. His wife was probably looking over his razor and other shaving things. Doesn''t he need them? Will he ever come back to use them? There was still time for them to be reunited before Tyssia got to the northern port towns, wasn''t there? "Don''t worry," the fisherman said. "I''ll send you with a buoy." He didn''t mean don''t worry about his family.
He meant don''t worry about him pitching me into the sea. "Won''t my card allow you to dock the boat just to let me out?" "Going to let you out near a beach. I''ve headed farther west to get away from the other ships and boats. I don''t know about any docks. I''ll cut the engines entirely as we get into shallow water." "I can''t get all wet." "Of course you can get wet." "No, it''s not me, it''s .
" I drew my coat closer. The fisherman studied its thick bulk. Too thick for the season, too padded for the wartime scarcity of fabric. Stuffed full of the documents I''d been asked to bring. "Heaven above." He raised his eyes up. Then he looked back down at me. "Whatever you''ve got on you, it will dry out.
And if not, I was under the impression that the most important thing was to get your feet on that damp Eilean soil, isn''t it?" That, I was not sure of. Not anymore. I stared out at the water, at Eilean''s coast growing as we neared. The shoreline alternated between cliffs and short beaches. We were more to the Examiner and her team than just transporters, weren''t we? She had picked us for our minds. She cared about us as people. Didn''t she? The fisherman cut the engines, leaving us bobbing several hundred yards from the sand. A peaceful, quiet, empty place.
How could there be such a war? The fisherman stood and came over to me, arms outstretched to help me put my coat back on, the way I imagined he helped his children into their coats when it was time for school. Father had always helped us into our coats like that, too. The lump returned to my throat. "Button up good," the fisherman instructed. As I did, he removed his belt, looped it around my middle, and cinched it tight. "That should keep the whatever-it-is in place." "Thanks." Then he handed me what looked like a large pretend pastry, but it was hard.
"What is this?" "It floats. Hug it tight to your chest. There, like that." He looped a rope through the hole in its center, double- and triple-knotted it. The rope looked thin, but I hoped it was strong. I took a deep breath, looking over my.