Moth inched toward the door. Governor Rendor’s men closed in to stop him.
“No,” Rendor snapped at them. “Leave him.” He once again towered over Moth. “I suppose I have Fiona to thank for making you afraid of me. Are you afraid of me, boy? You needn’t be. If you help me find the kestrel I’ll reward you.”
“What do you want with her?”
“Enough questions. Just help me find her.”
“You won’t find her in the floorboards,” Moth snarled. “And you have no right to take my stuff.”
The Governor examined him closely, as if trying to decipher a puzzle. Finally he turned away. “Get back to work,” he told his men.
“No!”
Moth rushed at Rendor, but a henchman snagged his arm. The Governor shook his head. “Let him go.”
Afraid, confused, Moth watched helplessly as the others went back to searching the apartment. Then, sure he’d be in danger if he stayed, he turned and bolted from the apartment, his feet clattering down the staircase as he raced away.
Governor Rendor went to the doorway, watching Moth speed down the stairs. When he reached the bottom, the boy ran along the street, disappearing quickly around a corner. The man who had taken Moth’s arm stood next to the Governor, wondering what to do.
“I could go after him,” he suggested.
Rendor thought for a moment. All he had seen on the boy’s face was shock. No concealment, no obscurity. Just surprise.
“Let him go,” said Rendor finally. “He doesn’t know anything.”
As his man rejoined the others, Rendor leaned against the door, sure that Leroux had been true to his word. Leroux had talked about the Reach but hadn’t whispered a word about the Starfinder, not even to young Moth. Rendor was sure of it. He glanced into the ramshackle room. The Starfinder was his now. All he had to do was find it.
THE BLACK SHIP
BY THE TIME MOTH REACHED the aerodrome his lungs ached from running. In his mad dash to get away he raced through the streets of Calio’s old section, cutting across the busy marketplace filled with vendors, and then at last to the north side of the mountain, into the flatlands where the aerodrome stood. In the shadow of a docking pylon he came to a halt, resting against the concrete structure to catch his breath. His eyes scanned for anyone who might have followed him. Overhead came the whoosh and buzz of speeding dragonflies. Two massive airships had already moored near the hangars, tied down by steel cables. The airfield was noisy with activity, but the empty stretch of land between it and the city was quiet.
Moth bent forward, putting his hands upon his knees to catch his breath. Leroux was dead. That was all he should be thinking about, and yet… and yet…
Questions zoomed through his brain. Fiona’s grandfather wanted something, but what? Moth thought of Lady Esme. Where was that blasted bird? And where was Fiona? He needed to speak to her, find out what was going on.
Moth peered around the pylon. He had never seen the aerodrome so busy. On the main strip outside the hangars a contingent of Skyknights gathered near one of the airships. Passengers poured through the open doors of the ship’s control car. The Skyknights looked resplendent in their blue dress uniforms, their jackets stiff with starch and studded with brightly polished buttons. Along the side of the airship draped a long, scarlet banner, the standard of Heres, a city in the far south of the country. Moth suddenly remembered what Fiona had told him about the meeting her grandfather had arranged. The governor of Heres was probably aboard that airship right now.
And yet there was no sign of Rendor or his men. Moth paused, wondering about his plan. He had no place to go, and really only one friend he could turn to for help. He scanned the group of pilots for Skyhigh.
No sign of him.
Moth took a deep breath, combed his hair with his fingers, then stepped out onto the field. Up ahead loomed the main hangar, one of a dozen such buildings lined up like soldiers on the south side of the aerodrome, all constructed of the same gleaming metal with rounded roofs to accommodate the giant airships. The main hangar was also where Skyhigh’s platoon barracked.
With so much activity going on, Moth didn’t expect anyone to care much that he’d arrived. He was late for work, but if he grabbed a mop or bucket no one would notice him. He hurried inside, entering the gigantic hangar through one of its gaping doors. Skyknights and their squires threaded through the dragonflies and crates of machine parts. Moth glanced around for Skyhigh. Out on the strip he could see the dignitaries milling near the airship.
“Moth!”
The shout made Moth jump. He turned to see Major Hark striding toward him, his body wrapped in a perfectly tailored uniform.
“Where you been, boy? We’ve got people coming. I need you to start on airstrip two.”
Major Hark didn’t notice Moth’s rumpled clothes or sweat-stained face. His tense expression revealed the pressure he was under today. For a moment Moth stared blankly at the Major, wanting to beg his help. But he could not. He couldn’t trust anyone now, only Skyhigh.
“I’m sorry,” he told Hark. “I couldn’t get here any sooner. Stuff at home—”
“Save the excuses and get to work, will ya? There’s another ship coming in and I have to get the strip brushed down. Just get your broom and get out there, check?”
“Yes, sir,” Moth answered. “I’ll do that. Have you seen Skyhigh anywhere, sir?”
“Skyhigh’s getting ready to fly escort,” snapped Hark as he turned back toward the crowd. “Don’t get underfoot.”
Moth gave a curt reply, then sighted Skyhigh walking out toward the airstrip. He waited until Hark was safely away before he bolted toward his friend. Unlike the others, Skyhigh was dressed for flying, his helmet nestled in the crook of his elbow. Moth came up behind him, snagging his sleeve.
“Skyhigh, wait!”
Startled, Skyhigh quickly tugged back his arm, annoyed until he noticed who had grabbed him. “Moth?”
“I have to talk to you,” said Moth. He glanced around, wanting no one to overhear them.
“Can’t. Not now,” replied Skyhigh, and kept on walking. “The dragonfly’s waiting.”
Moth followed him out onto the gravel-paved field. He could see Skyhigh’s craft at the end of the strip. Out to the east a big, black spot was moving against the blue sky, getting slowly closer.
“Skyhigh, hold on,” Moth urged. “It’s important.”
“Later,” Skyhigh called over his shoulder.
“Please!”
The Skyknight stopped. Turning, he saw Moth’s face twisting with emotion, on the verge of tears. “Moth?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Leroux’s dead.” The words simply dropped from Moth’s mouth. “And when I got back to the apartment Governor Rendor was there tearing it apart. He’s taken everything. Now he’s looking for Lady Esme…”
“Moth, go easy. Leroux? I just saw him last night.”
“This morning,” Moth explained. “He must have died in his sleep. When I woke up he was in bed, just lying there.” Moth took hold of Skyhigh’s arm again and pulled him toward the wall of the hangar, out of sight. “I went and got the doctor. After that I went up to Mrs. Jilla’s. When I got back to the apartment Fiona’s grandfather was there! There were men with him, and they were ripping up everything—the walls, the floors. Then Governor Rendor came out and wanted to know about Lady Esme. He said the apartment belongs to the government now. All our stuff!”
Over Skyhigh’s shoulder, the black spot from the east came steadily closer. Moth could hear a distant thrumming as it approached. Skyhigh shook his head in confusion.
“Why would the Governor take your home?” he wondered aloud. Then he looked at Moth, his eyes filled with sympathy. “Leroux… Moth, I’m sorry.”