Third Daughter (The Dharian Affairs, Book One) Page 19

  She wished she had bargained harder for a carriage.

  The stableboy handed up the tapping cane, and the prince gave two light taps to the beast’s forehead. It swayed forward in a great motion that felt like it would fling Aniri from the saddle. She clutched at the prince’s overcoat to keep from falling off. A low chuckle came from him, barely rising over the shuffle of woolly feet on the frost-crusted ground. The swaying grew more rhythmic once the beast got going, but Aniri still was forced to hold fast, synchronizing their bodies in order not to bang against one another.

  An hour suddenly seemed like a very long time.

  They lurched away from the outskirts of the trading village and into a steep canyon carved from granite. It was dark, the sun not yet cresting the mountains. Tiny shrubs clung to crevices in the shadowed walls, their gnarled branches permanently bent in a perpetual battle against the wind. They pointed back to the village like a thousand fingers of warning against their slow progress deeper and deeper into the canyon.

  Aniri knew this would be dangerous. Her boasts of the Queen coming after her were simply that. But even if her mother chose to rescue her from the barbarians in the frozen north, Aniri wasn’t sure how the Queen’s infantry would fare against the harsh climate and difficult terrain. Lives would certainly be lost in the process. The Queen could well be right to forsake her.

  Aniri and Prince Malik didn’t speak. The sound of the shashee’s grunts and the scraping of its feet on the graveled road mixed with the hollowness of the wind, making speech seem a lost effort. Eventually, Aniri tucked her head behind the prince’s back, sheltering her face from the cold.

  The road narrowed as it hugged the craggy mountainside, winding higher and higher. How could any kind of flying weapon have been built in such a remote area? Then she spied a thin rail line at the bottom of the canyon. Supplies and materials must run by rail, because only a shashee or a drawn wagon could navigate their increasingly narrow foot trail.

  The air grew even thinner as they climbed. The cold turned Aniri’s breath into a steaming cloud. It left her warm spot behind the prince and trailed behind them. The rhythm of the beast lulled her, and time passed quicker than Aniri thought possible. Soon the prince tapped the beast to a stop, and she lurched against him, clutching again. The shashee slowly knelt to the ground, one giant tree-trunk of a leg at a time. When it folded down, the prince slid off, then held a hand up to help her.

  “Are we taking a rest?” she asked once she was on the graveled dirt beside him.

  The prince pointed farther up the road. It disappeared around a bend in the canyon. “This is the last turn before the airharbor.”

  “Airharbor? As in a harbor for the skyship?”

  “It’s rather more like a small city than a place to dock the ship, but yes.” The prince turned to her. “I’m still not enamored of this plan where you try this alone.”

  They had already discussed how she would slip in as one of the workers. Aniri patted her gloved hand on her hip, where the prince knew she carried her father’s saber buried under the thick overcoat. At the small of her back was her dagger as well.

  “Just tell me how to find the entrance.”

  Getting in wouldn’t be the challenge; it was getting out again, once she had seen the skyship itself, that would prove the most difficult. And where her weapons might come in handy.

  The prince sighed and pointed down the footpath again. “Keep following the road to the north end of the airharbor. The workers live outside the harbor in a small camp during the week. At week’s end, they generally return to their families in the trading town we just left. You’re too late for the morning shift, so if anyone asks, say you’re late returning from the festival in town.”

  He examined her a moment, and she thought he might put up further objections to her mission, but he only reached up to pull a tendril of her hair free from her double layered hoods. “If you look a little more disheveled, they might actually believe the story. Garesh has workers on round-the-clock shifts now, so there should be a lot of people coming and going.”

  “So perhaps it will not be so difficult to leave?”

  “Or you may be stuck breaking navia ore for a shift, princess,” he said with a small smile.

  She grimaced. It would be tough to pretend to be a manual labor worker for long. Her climbing and fencing kept her strong, but she was not used to labor of that kind. “Is there another way out, perhaps?”

  The prince frowned, then glanced at the thin railroad track. The morning sun, which was just now climbing over the ridges of the canyon, glinted off the rails as though they were made of silver, not steel. “You might be able to slip out through the rail entrance. But I’m not sure that’s any less hazardous than braving security to leave before the end of your shift.”

  He handed Aniri what looked like a small coin with wings. It was rimmed in copper, and the center was inlaid with intricate clockwork, tiny gears interlocked with delicate metal levers. The layout of the gears and wings made the device resemble a mechanical bird. The wings, indeed the whole mechanism, had a distinctly Samirian flavor.

  “What is this?” Aniri turned it over. The other side was stamped with a sleek boat, which had a multitude of folding sails. It was definitely a Samirian skiff in design.

  “This is your key to a day’s wages at the airharbor. Back in Mahet, while you were sleeping, I met with my spy in Garesh’s employ.”

  Aniri raised her eyebrows, but he went on without missing a beat.

  “He gave me this token. The workers use these to gain access to the airharbor. You can’t get in without one. The workers turn one token in each day and are issued a new one for the next shift.”

  Aniri frowned. “Won’t Garesh know the coin came from your spy if I’m caught?”

  Prince Malik gave a small smile. “No, he’ll be fine. It’s not uncommon for the tradespeople in town to trade tokens. They’re like currency. And besides, my spy is a long-time member of Garesh’s household. He worked for my brother when he was first developing the skyship design. He’ll be above suspicion.” The prince paused, then looked into her eyes. “The skyship isn’t something I want to destroy, Aniri. Most of Jungali is remote and isolated. If Dharia and Jungali were allies, the skyship could be the beginning of a new transport system, something that could connect our two countries for trade in a way we’ve never been able to accomplish before. If we can keep Garesh from using it as a weapon, we can make it an instrument of peace instead. With your help—with Dharia’s help—we can make that happen. Together.”

  “I know you’re working for peace, Ash,” Aniri said softly. “But I still need to see the skyship for myself.” She slid the small, weighty token into her overcoat pocket. “Are you sure this coin will get me in?”

  “It should. There are plenty of new workers with the extra shifts. A new face shouldn’t raise any alarms. Just try not to be...”

  “What?” Aniri countered his disapproving tone.

  “Try not to be quite so... regal.”

  “You mean arrogant.”

  “Even as a tradeswoman, you weren’t exactly humble, Princess.” But he was smiling now, and Aniri wasn’t sure if he was serious or not.

  “I’ll do my best to be demure.”

  He laughed at that, but then sobered quickly and placed his hands on Aniri’s shoulders. “Do your best to not get caught. It would be quite challenging to get you out again.”

  “If I’m caught, you should head back to your palace immediately. If you want to keep hold of your reign, you have to disavow all knowledge of my spying activities. You can’t work for peace if you’re in Garesh’s prison.” She swallowed. That was almost certainly the right thing for him to do, but she wasn’t at all sure about being left to fend for herself. She had snuck a message to her mother while in the privy in Mahet, telling her the prince was a worthy ally. It was a message that wouldn’t bring her mother’s infantry, or Janak for that matter, storming the mountains to find her befor
e she had a chance to see the skyship. But if she were caught, it would serve as a cryptic, but hopefully instructive, final note. The Queen might even heed it.

  The prince was studying her with those odd amber eyes, like he wasn’t quite sure he should let her go after all. Then he released her and said, “Just don’t get caught.”

  “I’ll meet you here in an hour,” she said. “If I’m not back by then, I may have to wait out the shift.”

  His face was pinched with concern, as if he was still undecided. She turned her back on him, before he could change his mind, and edged around the shashee, who took up most of the narrow dirt path chiseled out of the mountainside. When she rounded the bend in the road, she saw what the prince meant by the airharbor being a port city in the mountains rather than a simple hidden dock for a skyship.

  The harbor was massive.

  Giant beams of lumber spanned the canyon, like an enormous V-shaped box had been wedged down between the sides. At the bottom, it nearly reached the rail line. As it went up, the harbor widened with the canyon. The flat top spanned from one rocky edge to the other, soaring a hundred feet above Aniri, at least halfway up the canyon. She stared up the full height, its tremendous size making her dizzy. Or perhaps it was the thin air again, working against her. She braced her hand against the cool rock wall bordering the path and breathed deeply a few times. Exerting herself as an ore worker would make it difficult to keep up the pretense of being a native Jungali.

  Once the dizziness faded, she continued down the path, stealing occasional peeks at the airharbor structure. It was as large as a small village, encased in wood, and suspended in the middle of the canyon. No wonder the rumors had been swirling for months—this kind of undertaking would have required that amount of time just to build the structure, no matter what was housed inside. Aniri nearly stopped in her tracks, almost convinced of the prince’s truth simply by the presence of the harbor. What else could it be but something that housed a skyship?

  Yet, her mission wasn’t simply to verify its existence, but to discover its exact nature and capabilities. If Dharia was to defend herself against such a weapon, the Queen would need to know exactly what she was facing. And, not for the first time, Aniri wondered if she might have a chance to sabotage the skyship as well. Dharia might never have a better chance than right now to strike at the heart of the weapon. Aniri could destroy it, take it out of the equation that would force her into an arranged marriage with the Prince of Jungali. But the prince himself had brought her here, with full knowledge that she had come to spy on him. Because he believed she would help him work for peace. The prince could have killed her or had her imprisoned many times. Instead, he brought her into his deepest confidence. To betray that trust now felt... wrong. But could Aniri pass up the chance to destroy the weapon, if she had it?

  She would see what opportunities presented themselves once she was inside.

  The rocky path passed under the airharbor, creating a tunnel with three solid sides: the rock wall of the canyon, the narrow dirt path, and the wooden structure heavy above Aniri’s head. The fourth side was a sheer drop to the rail line below. She hesitated only a moment before striding into the darkness of the tunnel. At the far end, a lone security guard leaned against the wall of the canyon, warming his hands with misty breaths. She had to give credit to Garesh’s military foresight: the mountain provided such restricted access as to be practically unassailable. The harbor itself was a fortress. Even if Dharia knew the location of this mountain hideaway, the possibility of launching any kind of successful assault was practically nonexistent.

  This one guard was almost laughable in the face of such natural defenses.

  Yet, she still had to get past him.

  The crunch of her boots on the ground drew his attention. He pushed away from the edge and shifted his rifle so it was held loosely in front of him, its strap looped over his shoulder. The steel barrel glinted in the morning sun, blinding her. He waited until she was close to speak.

  “What’s this, now?” he asked.

  “I’m... I’m here to work,” Aniri said, suddenly unsure of how to appear sufficiently demure to get past the guard.

  “Shift’s already started.”

  Aniri stepped into the sun, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. The guard was young, not much older than her, dressed much like she was in a hide coat rimmed with fur. His eyes were dark, and not unfriendly, especially once she was in the light. His gaze seemed drawn to her lips, dancing between them and her eyes. Perhaps demure was the right approach.

  She dropped her gaze and dug the token out of her pocket, holding it out in the palm of her gloved hand. “I have a token, and I’ve walked all this way.” She gestured to the empty stretch of road behind her.

  His gaze held hers for a moment, dropped to the token, then bounced back. “That’s last week’s token.” His voice was filled with sympathy, even though he was slowly shaking his head.

  Aniri feigned shock, which wasn’t hard with the sharp churn in her stomach. She turned the token end over end. “But... but he told me it was good.” She looked up at him. “He promised. Please... I really need the wages. It’s for my family. We just had a new baby arrive, and we need coal for heat…”

  The boy’s face softened even more. He bit his lip and glanced over his shoulder. At a distant gate, a line of workers waited to gain entry to the harbor. They were all clad in tan leather and fur trimmed jackets, like her and the guard. Then he slung his rifle to the back of his shoulder and fished a token out of his pocket. It was the same as hers, only rimmed in iron instead of copper.

  “Here.” He held out his hand. “Trade me. I’ll tell them they gave me the wrong one last time.”

  She quickly placed her token in his hand and tucked his into her palm. She gave him a sincerely surprised and grateful look. “Thank you.”

  He smiled. “Maybe, when you’re done with your shift, you can meet me? I get off at the end of second shift. I’m staying at the number two barracks.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. Past the line of workers was a row of wooden shacks that must be weekday housing.

  Aniri returned his smile, feeling slightly queasy with this deception. “I’d like that.”

  His smile brightened, and she gave him another promising look but strode past him as quickly as she could.

  As she approached the two guards stationed at the door of the airharbor entrance, she pulled her hood tighter around her face. Their jackets were ink black, with thin, twisted ropes across the center span, like sinister railroad tracks running up their chests. The only fur they wore adorned their squarish box-like hats, sitting low on their brows and making them all the more menacing. They struck Aniri as more Samirian than Jungali, with deep brown eyes and angular cheeks rivaling Devesh’s. For all the severity of their looks, they only spared her a cursory glance.

  The person ahead of her slipped the token into a slot. After a small whirring and clicking, the token was swallowed inside and the door clicked. The worker rushed to open it. Maybe the lock was timed? Once the girl ahead of her was through, Aniri stepped up and did the same, trying to not let the trembling in her hands show, but the Samirian guards weren’t paying her any attention. The token spun and whirred and disappeared. When the door clicked, she rushed ahead to push it open, then stepped into the relative dark inside.

  The door shushed closed behind her. Aniri sensed the movement inside the airharbor even before her eyes adjusted. Workers crisscrossed in front of her, hurrying down a passageway in front of a low wall. The woman in line before her was already gone. Aniri blinked, and the rest of the harbor came into focus, soaring high above her. It was like a dark cavern, lit only by tiny, round windows in the murky heights. Their light speared the dusty air like sunbeams after a thunderstorm. Something in the high reaches of the harbor caught one of the beams, glinted, then moved back into the darkness. Aniri squinted, trying to discern it, but the door behind her clicked. She barely skittered out of the way bef
ore it was flung open by another worker.

  “Ay!” the young man said as he nearly collided with Aniri on his way in. “Whatcha doing, standing there?”

  “I... this is my first day,” Aniri said.

  “Aye, and you’re late, too.” The man loomed over her. He was either very muscular or his winter jacket was extra padded. Either way, he seemed a better candidate for ore breaking than her. He looked askance at her relatively slimmer build. “You’re not headin’ to the slurry mech, are ye? Ye won’t last long there.”

  “Is there a better shift to be on?” Aniri asked, looking hopefully up into his eyes.

  “Don’t be batting those eyes at me, love.” He smirked. “I’ll not be working your shift for ye, no matter what yer offering.”

  “Oh!” Aniri’s eyes went wide. “No, I didn’t mean—”

  He laughed, and the wrinkles around his eyes said he was older than Aniri had first thought in the dim light. “You really are fresh, aren’t ye?” He studied her for a moment. “All right, then, I’m late already. Let me check in, and I’ll see about gettin’ the shift cap to move you to shiners. You’re not afraid of heights are you, freshness?”

  She shook her head rapidly, not sure what was happening.

  “Good.” He turned and strode down the hall, throwing a look back to her. “Well, are ye comin’ or not? Don’t have all day.”

  Aniri unlocked her legs and followed him, unsure exactly what she had agreed to.

  The hulking worker weaved through a maze of low walls that separated one work area from the next. Aniri was just tall enough to peek over. They passed one compartment filled with metalworkers banging out enormous copper and iron fabrications over coal-fired ovens. Another housed a legion of seamstresses bent over vast skeins of blue fabric. It pooled on the floor, making them look like sea creatures afloat on an ocean of silk. They dipped their large needles below the surface only to pop them up again a moment later.