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Then again, she’d heard it rumored that the ship didn’t need pilots these days, Darwinist or Clanker. The whale had developed an independent streak, a tendency to choose its own way among the thermals and updrafts. Some of the crew wondered if the wreck had rattled the beastie’s attic. But Deryn reckoned it was the new engines. Who wouldn’t feel feisty with all that power?

A bee was crawling across her sketch pad, and she waved it away. The hives had come out of their three-day hibernation hungry, gorging themselves on the wildflowers of Italy as the Leviathan headed south. The strafing hawks looked fat and happy this afternoon, full of wild hares and stolen piglets.

“Mr. Sharp?” came the master coxswain’s voice.

Deryn almost snapped to attention. But then she saw the message lizard staring at her, its beady eyes blinking.

“Please report to the captain’s quarters,” the lizard continued. “Without delay.”

“Aye, sir. Right away!” Deryn winced as she heard her voice squeak like a girl’s. She lowered it and said, “End message.”

Gathering her pad and pencils as the beastie scampered away, Deryn wondered what she’d done wrong. Nothing bad enough to earn an audience with the captain—not that she could remember. Mr. Rigby had even commended her on taking Alek hostage during the Stormwalker attack.

But her nerves were twitching nonetheless.

The captain’s quarters were up near the bow, next to the navigation room. The door was half open and Captain Hobbes sat behind his desk, the wall charts rustling in the warm breeze from an open window.

Deryn saluted smartly. “Midshipman Sharp reporting, sir.”

“At ease, Mr. Sharp,” the man said, which only made her more nervous. “Please come in. And shut the door.”

“Aye, sir,” she said. The captain’s door was a solid piece of natural wood, not fabricated balsa, and it thumped shut with a heavy finality.

“May I ask you, Mr. Sharp, your opinion of our guests?”

“The Clankers, sir?” Deryn frowned. “They’re … very clever. And quite determined about keeping those engines running. Good allies to have, I’d say.”

“Would you? Then it’s lucky they aren’t officially our enemies.” The captain tapped his pencil against the cage that sat on his desk. The carrier tern inside it fluttered, its tongue slipping out to taste the air. “I’ve just learned that England is not at war with Austria-Hungary, not yet. At the moment we need only concern ourselves with the Germans.”

“Well, that’s handy, sir.”

“Indeed.” The captain leaned back and smiled. “You’re rather friendly with young Alek, aren’t you?”

“Aye, sir. He’s a good lad.”

“So he seems. A young boy like that needs friends, especially having run away from home and country.” The captain lifted an eyebrow. “Sad, isn’t it?”

Deryn nodded, saying carefully, “I suppose so, sir.”

“And all quite mysterious. Here we are at their mercy, mechanically speaking, and yet we don’t know much about Alek and his friends. Who are they, really?”

“They are a bit cagey, sir,” Deryn said, which wasn’t a lie.

“THE CAPTAIN’S QUARTERS.”

“Quite so.” Captain Hobbes picked up the piece of paper before him. “The First Lord of the Admiralty himself has become curious about them, and requests that we keep him informed. So it might be useful, Dylan, if you kept your ears open.”

Deryn let out a slow breath.

This was the moment, of course, when duty required her to tell the captain all she knew—that Alek was the son of Archduke Ferdinand, and that the Germans were behind his father’s murder. Alek had said it himself: This wasn’t just family business. The assassinations had started the whole barking war, after all.

And now Lord Churchill himself was asking about it!

But she’d promised Alek not to tell. Deryn owed him that much, after setting the sniffers on him the first time they’d met.

For that matter, the whole barking ship owed him a debt. Alek had revealed his hiding place to help them fight the zeppelins, giving up his Stormwalker and a castle full of stores. And all he’d asked in return was to stay anonymous. It seemed impolite for the captain even to be asking.

She couldn’t break her promise—not like this, without even talking to Alek first.

Deryn saluted smartly. “I’m happy to do whatever I can, sir.”

And she left without telling the captain any of it.

That evening when she went to find Alek on egg duty, the machine room was locked.

Deryn gave the door a couple of loud raps. Alek opened it and smiled, but he didn’t stand aside.

“Dylan! Good to see you.” He lowered his voice. “But I can’t let you in.”

“Why not?”

“One of the eggs is looking pale, so we’ve had to rearrange the heaters. It’s all very complicated. Dr. Barlow said that another person in the room could affect the temperature.”

Deryn rolled her eyes. As Constantinople drew closer, the lady boffin grew more and more protective of her eggs. They’d survived an airship crash, three nights on a glacier, and a zeppelin attack, and yet she seemed to think they’d shatter if anyone looked at them sideways.

“That’s a load of yackum, Alek. Let me in.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! We’re keeping them close enough to body temperature. Another person in there won’t hurt.”

Alek hesitated. “Well, she also said that Tazza hasn’t had a walk all day. He’ll be tearing down the walls of her cabin if you don’t see to him.”

Deryn sighed. It was amazing how the lady boffin could be so tiresome without even being in the room.

“I’ve got something important to tell you, Alek. Shove aside and let me in!”

He frowned but relented, letting her squeeze past into the sweltering machine room.

“Blisters, are you sure it’s not too hot in here?”

Alek shrugged. “Dr. Barlow’s orders. She said the sick one needed to be kept warm.”

Deryn looked at the cargo box. Two of the surviving eggs were nestled together at one end; the other was alone in the middle, surrounded by a pile of glowing heaters— far too many. She took a step forward to check the thermometer, then frowned. They were Dr. Barlow’s barking eggs. If she wanted to cook them, fine.

Deryn had more important things to worry about.

She turned to Alek. “The captain called for me today. He asked about you.”

Alek’s face darkened. “Oh.”

“Don’t worry. I didn’t tell him anything,” she said. “I mean, I wouldn’t break my promise.”

“Thank you, Dylan.”

“Even though he …” She cleared her throat, trying to sound casual. “He told me to keep an eye on you, and said I should tell him anything I find out.”

Alek nodded slowly. “He gave you a direct order, didn’t he?”

Deryn opened her mouth, but no words came out—something was shifting inside her. On her way here she’d hoped Alek would give her permission to tell the captain, solving the whole dilemma. But now an entirely different desire was creeping into her mind.

What she really wanted, Deryn realized, was for Alek to know that she’d lied for him, that she would go on lying for him.