We burst from the trees and were in a field of tall grass. Before I could even check to see if the cloud cat was following, the sun was blotted out and I heard a droning sound behind us. I spun and saw the belly of an airship passing overhead, so low I could feel the powerful wash from its propellers and smell its engine fumes. The ship cast a great shadow over the field. In the trees at the forest’s edge, I caught a glimpse of the cloud cat cringing against a branch, watching the ship, watching us.

I whirled back to the airship. It took my mind a few seconds to catch up, for at first I thought it was the Aurora. But how could it be? This ship was much smaller, only a third its size. It came in for a landing in the field, nose to the wind. It must be a rescue: someone had been searching for us and now they’d found us! She slowed herself swiftly, and crew were hopping out from the hatches and taking the lines and holding her down. In the center of the field was a tall mooring mast, and there atop its peak were two men catching hold of the nose lines as the ship nudged up against the locking cone. Then I knew.

I pulled hard on Kate’s hand, trying to turn her back to the trees. I recognized the ship’s night-colored skin, the complete absence of any markings on her rudder or belly, and I knew what she was and who she carried.

“What’re you doing?” Kate demanded, trying to pull free. “We’ve been rescued. Hello! Hello!” she shouted out, waving.

“Shut up!” I hissed. “It’s the pirates!”

But it was too late. One of the landing crew had turned in our direction. We’d been sighted. Now it was Kate’s turn to tug at me, but I stood stock-still, grasping her hand tight.

“Matt? Come on! Run!”

“Keep waving,” I told her, and I lifted my hand and waved at the pirates. “Hello there!” I hollered. “Hello!”

“What are you doing?” Kate sobbed.

I kept waving. “If we run, it tells them we know they’re pirates. It means we might have friends to warn. They’ll chase us; they will search and find the ship and all will be lost. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

“There’s nowhere to run anyway,” I said. “The cat is still in the trees.”

I saw her take a glance; I’m not sure if the cloud cat was still there at the forest’s edge. It didn’t matter.

We jogged toward the pirate ship, still waving.

“Here’s the story,” I told Kate, inventing as we ran. “We were bound for the Hawaiis in a small airship out of Van Diemen’s Land. We got caught in that terrible typhoon and were sunk. I’m the cabin boy. You’re a passenger. We are the only two who survived. All others were lost, including your mother. We washed up here on the island. Smile. We think we’ve just been rescued by nice friendly people.”

“But won’t they recognize us from the Aurora?”

“No.” I was gambling they wouldn’t have had the time or interest to notice what we looked like; they’d been intent on other things.

If we could lie, if we could make them believe we were castaways, perhaps we would have a chance. After our run through the forest, we looked bedraggled enough, our faces sweaty and streaked, our clothes rumpled and torn in places. It was good luck that I was not in my ship’s uniform to give us away, and that Kate had decided on a streamlined outfit rather than a sundress. A proper dress would have sunk her to the ocean floor in heavy seas and made our story a farce. In harem pants, though, it was possible she could have swum. Thank heavens we were not carrying the camera equipment and spyglass. Now I only prayed that Bruce would not come running out after us and give us all away.

My belt.

“Run ahead of me for a second,” I urged Kate. “Block their view.”

I pretended to stumble in the tall grass, and as I hit the ground, I ripped my belt out through the loops and left it. On its buckle was the Lunardi Line insignia.

I scrambled back up and continued running. We reached the landing field proper, where the grass had been scythed low. The pirates, I saw, had laid down a rail track in a great circle around the mooring mast, so that the airship, fixed at her nose, could pivot with the wind, her stern rolling along on its set of landing wheels. It had taken a great deal of work, and it had been done well. The field’s placement was ideal for keeping the ship hidden, ringed around by hills and forest on either side. It would make a difficult approach and landing, but the ship was small and maneuverable as a tiger shark. I remembered her agility as she’d stalked us through the night skies.

“Thank goodness!” I called out when we were near the crew. “We worried we’d never be found! Are you from the Sky Guard?”

Their eyes were on us, and I prayed again we would not be recognized.

“Who the feck are they?” I heard one of the pirates mutter to his comrade.

It was quite something to be running toward a group of pirates, trying to look as overjoyed as a child unwrapping Christmas presents. They were a motley bunch. Many of them wore little more than cut-off trousers and undershirts, their muscled bodies greasy with sweat. Their faces were whiskery.

“Where’d you two come from, then?” one of them asked, striding forward.

This was the one Szpirglas had called Mr. Crumlin, and I assumed he was first mate, if air pirates went by such titles. He was a great grizzly of a fellow, his bare shoulders and arms sprouting more hair than seemed decent or practical in such heat.

We stopped before him. I was puffed as I began my story, and glad of it, for it made it harder to feel nervous about the lies I was spewing. As I talked, another conversation started its chatter in my head. What good could come of this? These were the wretches who had murdered our officer, who’d been happy to leave us to a watery grave after their ship slit us stem to stern. What chance had we of getting away alive from them? Maybe we should have taken our chances in the forest with the cloud cat; we should have run until our lungs burst. But I kept all these worries imprisoned in my skull and finished my tale of storms and shipwrecks and castaways.

“We’d better let the captain hear this,” said Crumlin.

But he had no need to summon him, for down the gangway came Vikram Szpirglas himself, looking dashing, I had to admit, striding toward us as though he had a mastery of all four elements. He was a handsome man; he should have been someone admirable and good, but all I could see in him now was the murderer who’d held a pistol to Mr. Featherstone’s head and pulled the trigger.

“They say they were wrecked in the typhoon,” Crumlin told his captain.

“Good heavens!” said Szpirglas, all concern.

And so I repeated my story for him. “You’re from the Sky Guard, aren’t you?” I asked, trying to appear dim-witted.

Szpirglas smiled benevolently. It made my skin crawl. “Of course we are, dear boy. I’m Captain Anglesea. It was a bit of good luck that you happened to be swept to this island where we have a large station. It’s quite an establishment, really. You two are very fortunate indeed.”

Almost every second I thought, He is playing. He knows.

“Mr. Crumlin,” he said to his mate, “take them to the village and make them comfortable. I’ll be along shortly after I oversee the docking.”

Village? I thought.

“Are you hungry?” Szpirglas asked us. “You poor creatures must be ravenous.”

“We found some banana trees,” Kate said quietly.

“Very good. Clever children. But you’ll still be wanting a proper meal after so long. I’m ready for a good meal myself. We’ll have a feast together, and I want to hear about your mishap.”

Szpirglas strode off to oversee the berthing of his ship. His crew were already smartly getting on with the business of unloading and loading and refueling, inspecting her skin for wear and tear. It might have been a scene from any harbor around the world, but it did not comfort me now. From the cargo bay doors and gangplanks came metal barrels of Aruba fuel, crates of food, a squealing pig, and other unmarked crates that surely must contain the pirates’ despicable loot.

Crumlin smiled at us, but it came out like more of a grimace. He did not share Szpirglas’s talent for malignant fakery.

“This way, then,” he said.

As Kate and I followed him, a plan came to me. The Aurora wasn’t ready to fly yet. But by tomorrow morning she should be fully refueled and airworthy. We would have to bide our time today with the pirates, making sure they believed we were the two sole survivors of some shipwreck. They would not be suspicious of two grateful and gullible children. And tomorrow, in the early hours of the morning, while they all slept, we would make our break, cross the island, and warn the Aurora. By the time the pirates noticed us missing, they would have little time to launch a search of the entire island, and by then we’d be airborne.

Crumlin led us to the edge of the landing field and onto a well-maintained path into the forest. Of all the islands in the Pacificus, we’d had the misfortune to crash on the one Vikram Szpirglas had made his secret base. But this was no makeshift hideaway. At my first glimpse through the trees, I saw that village was indeed the right word for it. There was a large bamboo lodge, with a generous, wide verandah on all sides, lots of proper windows, and a high-pitched roof of palm fronds. Arranged all around it were well more than a dozen smaller bamboo huts and houses. There were fenced pens with chickens and pigs snuffling about, and more people milling around than could have come from the airship just now. With a start I realized there were women here too. They were dressed in saris and sarongs and all manner of loose-fitting clothing, their arms and necks and ears bejeweled, and they ran to embrace their pirate mates and were hugged and kissed and swirled around through the air. And children! Some of the women carried babies in their arms, and toddlers ran about underfoot.

This place was a proper home. It must have taken years for the pirates to establish it. They had cleared as few trees as possible, and I realized that even if you were to fly low overhead, you would not see their habitation. Beyond their buildings the forest thinned, and I saw that we were high on a promontory overlooking the island’s windward shore.

It looked as if the village had taken a bit of a beating in the typhoon, even sheltered as it was behind the trees. Men were up on the roofs, repairing the thatch. One shed was tilting over crazily, and there were palm fronds strewn all around the village. Despite all that, the place had an undeniably trim and tidy look to it. Clearly there was a ground crew who stayed on the island when the others were out pillaging. A little kingdom Szpirglas had created for himself here. The thought made me go all queasy, for I knew how the pirates would guard the secrecy of this place. What were the chances of them letting us escape, even if they did think us harmless children?

My plan seemed a paltry thing now. We ought to have run when we had the chance. I thought of Bruce limping wounded through the jungle. I thought of the ship filling, but not yet ready to launch. I felt as close to despair as I ever had in my life. But when I looked at Kate, I pulled myself together. It had been my plan, and she was playing along with it, and I must do my best.

Crumlin led us to the main lodge and up the steps to the verandah, which was veiled all round, most civilized, with mosquito cloth. We sat at a large table, and Crumlin told us we could wait here for the captain to return. There followed a great deal of grunting and satisfied moaning as he unlaced his great black boots and set them thunking on the bamboo deck. He had the biggest, hairiest toes I’d ever beheld, and it made me quite ill just looking at them. His big toe alone could squash a coconut. I wondered that any airship would support a man with his bulk.

The late-afternoon breeze off the water blew among the trees and cooled us. I longed to talk properly with Kate, but we had no chance with that great hulk Crumlin there, massaging his feet. I was glad we were upwind. Looking through the doorway into the lodge itself, I saw a large hall that was obviously meant for a dining room, arranged with tables and chairs. Then I caught sight of something on the wall and stared in amazement.

“What’re you looking at, then?” said Crumlin suspiciously, turning to follow my gaze. He chuckled. “Oh, that. Never seen one of them before, I’d wager.”

Kate had seen it now too, and I shot her a look so she wouldn’t say anything.

It was the head of a cloud cat, mounted on the wall like a trophy. Its wings had been nailed up on either side.

“What is it?” I made myself ask.

“Freaks of nature is what they are. You only see them in these parts. They fly over the island a couple times a year. Shot that one meself, right out of the sky. They’re fast. Damn hard to hit, I can tell you. We all have a go at them whenever we can. Good sport. Four or five we’ve brought down over the years.”

I pictured Crumlin, a rifle to his face, and suddenly understood why the cloud cats had been afraid of Benjamin Molloy’s spyglass. When he’d raised it to his eye, they must have mistaken it for a gun.

“I don’t think it’s very sporting at all,” said Kate. “They’ve done nothing to harm you.”

Crumlin gave a low growl of laughter. “Not so, young miss. There’s one that lives here on the island. He used to come slinking around our village sometimes. He’d throttle our chickens, and gut our pigs alive. Had a go at me once too. Look here.” Crumlin rolled up a trouser leg to reveal a long red crescent of scar tissue on his hairy calf. “He’s curious as a cat, with as many lives too. Don’t know how many shots we’ve taken at him. The winged devil’s learned his lesson, though; he stays away from the village now.”

“Well, it’s lucky we didn’t come upon him,” I said, looking at Kate. I was worried she might say more, but she just grunted, looking faintly ill. I wondered if the cloud cat was naturally vicious, or whether it was the pirates who had taught it to attack people. I couldn’t help thinking of Bruce and his own injured leg. I hoped he was all right, and that he was well on his way back to the Aurora.

More and more men and women were filing into the lodge, and there were a good many celebratory whoops and clinking of mugs. It seemed a merry time was going to be had tonight, which suited me just fine. It would be all the easier to sneak away from pirates sunk in a drunken sleep.

Just then Szpirglas returned, jogging into the village amid a general cheer from his men.

“Another successful mission for the Sky Guard, ladies and gentlemen!” he shouted grandly, to more applause. “And look, we’ve just discovered these two castaways who had the courage to make it ashore after their ship was wrecked.”

He leaped up the steps to join us, as if he’d long been anticipating this meeting with the utmost glee.

“There you are,” he said, sitting down. “Mr. Crumlin, have you offered them some refreshments?”

Crumlin forced that grimace onto his face. “Where are my manners,” he muttered. “What shall I get for you?”

“Fresh mango juice, I think,” said Szpirglas. “To wet their parched tongues,” he added, and I thought I saw Crumlin suppress a smirk.

“Very good, sir,” he said and went off inside the lodge.

“Now, tell me everything,” said Szpirglas.

“We’d given up hope, hadn’t we?” I said to Kate. “And right here on the island, a Sky Guard station!”

Szpirglas smiled, but it was just a mouth smile. His eyes were cold and concentrated, and I knew my storytelling powers were about to be sorely tested.

“What was your vessel?” he asked.

“Pegasus, sir. She was an eighty-footer, twin engine, G class. She was mostly for cargo and private charter. Eight crew under Captain Blackrock, and only two passengers. We were two nights out of Van Diemen’s Land, heading northeasterly for Honolulu.”

I did not know how carefully these pirates monitored air traffic over Oceanica. For all I knew they could have flight plans of every ship within a thousand miles—how else how could they pinpoint their prey so accurately? But a small vessel could more easily slip through the cracks. It would not raise any suspicion, or so I hoped. My answer seemed to satisfy him.

“And you say the typhoon brought you down.”

I watched him as I spoke, alive to every movement of his face, every blink, every lift of his eyebrows and twitch of his mouth. The typhoon was unquestionable; it had been real and would have posed a grievous threat to any small vessel caught in its bellows.

“The winds must have damaged one of our props. We were having engine trouble, sir, and losing altitude. We were leveled off at ninety feet only, but we might have been all right if it hadn’t been for the wave. It was one of them rogues, sir, a big cliff of water from nowhere, working against the wind, and it came and clipped us as it crested. Knocked off our engines, our fins, and sent us spinning down.”

“God in heaven,” said Szpirglas, all amazement and sympathy. “It is surely an airshipman’s worst nightmare. I’m amazed anyone survived. Did you have time to make a distress call?”

“I was not on the bridge, sir. I don’t know. But I would doubt it. It all happened so quickly.”

I knew what he wanted to discover. If we’d sent a distress call, and it had been heard, there might be a search under way. And a search might come close to his island kingdom. I didn’t want him to think we were bringing danger to him.

Crumlin returned and put two mugs of mango juice before us. For Szpirglas there was a crystal glass of ruby wine. I drank, for I was truly thirsty. It was a sweet concoction, but cool and refreshing. I drained the mug nearly to the bottom in one breath and broke away, panting more than I needed to.

“You must be parched,” said Szpirglas. “Poor lad.”

He did not recognize us, of that I was quite certain now. I’d been watching him as he watched me, and could see no flicker in his face. A huge relief it was, for if he remembered us, all was instantly lost.

“Are you sure you were the only two to survive?” Szpirglas asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “We were all tumbled around terribly. It seemed to happen all in a trice.”

Like any game of pretend, you had to half-believe it to play properly. All I had to do was remember my fears as the Aurora had come close to crashing in the sea. “We hit the water, and I must have lost consciousness for a few moments. The ship was already starting to fill. It was only by chance I came across Miss Simpkins here.”

It was not a good choice of name, but it just fluttered into my head, and I seized it. Kate did not even flicker. Through all my talking she’d dutifully hung her head, and her face had a crumpled look—which was not hard to fake right now. Kate was born to this kind of playacting, probably came from all her reading and fanciful stories. I could have handed the whole thing over to her and had a nap.

“We got out only just in time,” I said.

“If it weren’t for Mr. Cruse here, I’d surely have perished,” said Kate. She said it with such gratitude and conviction that I wasn’t angry she’d spoken out. I’d wanted to do all the talking, so we didn’t start contradicting each other, but I’d doubted she’d be able to stay quiet so long and let me hog all the story spinning. I supposed it didn’t matter she’d used my real name. It meant nothing to the pirates.

“You had a lifeboat of some kind, surely,” Szpirglas asked.

“No, sir, there wasn’t any time to deploy them. We just cracked into the drink and scrambled up onto a bit of busted hull that was like a kind of raft, and we clung to that. We didn’t see anyone else.”

At this Kate covered her face with her hands. She didn’t sob; she just shivered and made a kind of whimpering sound.

“Her mother was aboard too,” I explained to Szpirglas. “She was our other passenger.”

“You poor thing,” said Szpirglas. “Well, it’s too early to give up hope, Miss Simpkins.”

“Do you think?” Kate asked, staring at the table and lifting her big eyes slowly. “Might she still be alive?”

“We will do all we can to find out,” said Szpirglas in soothing tones. “This region isn’t very well charted, but there are countless little coral atolls dotting the ocean. It’s possible, yes, that she might be safe and sound somewhere else, just awaiting rescue. As soon as our ship is refueled and my men fed and rested, and we have a day’s light ahead of us, we will set a search in motion.”

Kate beamed at him with such sincerity that I was momentarily confused.

“Thank you,” she said.

It took me a moment to puzzle it out, why Szpirglas was being so kind to us. Why did he bother wasting his time on this game? Then I understood. He wanted us to relax; he wanted us to feel safe and content; he wanted to know everything we knew, in the hopes of gaining something from us. It wasn’t simply a matter of him finding out if there would be others searching for us. Maybe he also wanted to know what our ship was carrying, if there was any precious wreckage that might have washed ashore.

“You have no idea where you are, then?”

I knew I must be very careful here. I did not want Szpirglas to think the secrecy of his base was at risk. He would surely never release anyone who could give its coordinates away.

“No, sir, we were tumbled around so much I haven’t a clue.”

“But your bearing before the typhoon?”

“I don’t much take an interest in that,” I said, trying to look sheepish. “Captain says I’d get lost on the ship if I weren’t told where to go. I’ve got no sense of direction.”

“No matter, no matter,” said Szpirglas. “You’re safe with us.”

Another pirate came and put some new mugs of mango juice before Kate and me.

“There’s food coming, don’t fear,” said Szpirglas merrily. “I can smell a feast cooking, and it won’t be long before it’s served, eh, Mr. Crumlin?”

“That’s for certain, Captain,” said the bearish mate. “Pork.”

“Excellent,” Szpirglas winked at me. “I can’t abide anything that swims, I’m afraid. Rather awkward on an island, don’t you think?”

Kate and I both made ourselves chuckle. There was a brief silence, and it seemed Szpirglas had lost interest in us, but I knew our interrogation was far from over.

“A long flight for a small vessel, Van Diemen’s Land to the Hawaiis,” Szpirglas mused. “Your captain must’ve been an experienced one.”

“Yes he was.”

“Strange, then, he didn’t see the warnings of the typhoon.”

“It seemed to come out of nowhere,” I said and almost felt defensive, for I had missed it too, weather watcher that I was.

“It did come on sudden, I’ll grant you that. We caught just the tail end of it, and it gave us a shake, did it not, Mr. Crumlin?”

The mate gave a curt nod. “I’ll see what’s what with dinner,” he said and went inside the lodge.

“Weather does come on quickly in these parts, you are right,” Szpirglas said. “Well, you two are lucky you survived, and we must be hopeful there will be others. Whereabouts did you two wash up, then?”

He was watching me carefully, and for the first time I felt myself falter. He would want to see if there was wreckage there to confirm our story.

I sighed and tried to look abashed. “I’m not quite sure. We’ve walked about quite a lot, looking for inhabitants, and I’ve got turned around. It was a rocky stretch, not shallow, and we had to swim for it. We’re lucky the seas were calmer then, for we could easily have been dashed against the rocks. As it was, our bit of raft floated off and we were left to scramble up onto the rocks. I think it was somewhere off that way.” I pointed, making sure to point in the opposite direction to the Aurora.

Szpirglas nodded without so much as a flicker in his eye. “And that’s where you’ve made your camp?”

“Well, we didn’t really bother with a proper camp or anything.” I didn’t want him checking for signs. “Couldn’t even make a fire.”

“We tried with some sticks,” Kate offered, “but neither of us had any luck.”

Szpirglas gave a hearty laugh. “It is a deucedly hard business, making fire without matches, I agree.”

“We slept there the first night and waited the next day, hoping we’d see some others. But”—I looked over at Kate, in consideration of her missing mother—“then we moved on, hoping we’d find someone, or get to higher ground where we’d have a view of something or other.”

They would check the coast, and would find nothing. But that was why I’d been careful to mention the raft had floated off. I wanted to make sure I left no loose ends to my story.

“Ah, there he is!” cried Szpirglas, and I looked over my shoulder to see a striking, tall, raven-haired woman walking toward us. But it was not the woman Szpirglas beheld with such pleasure; it was the small boy she led by the hand. Not more than four, this boy, I’d say, and pulling free from the woman’s grasp now so he could charge headlong up the verandah steps and into Szpirglas’s waiting arms.

“I’ve missed you, lad!” Szpirglas said, lifting the boy onto his lap. “Thank you, Delilah,” he said to the woman, and she nodded obediently and departed. “This,” he said proudly to me and Kate, “is my son, Theodore.”

I could feel my surprise, like an earthquake’s tremor, about to ripple across my face, but hoped I managed to stop it in time. It seemed impossible that a cold-hearted thief and murderer like Szpirglas should have a son. And a handsomer little fellow I’d never seen, with huge brown eyes and a perfect bowed mouth, wavy hair that would become curly like his father’s one day, and eyebrows that made his whole face seem intent.

“Hello, Theodore,” Kate and I said, in almost perfect unison, with the same forced jollity.

“Did you have good adventures?” Theodore asked his father.

“The things I saw!” Szpirglas exclaimed.

“Well, go on and tell me,” the boy said with studied patience, as though this were a game they were both used to playing.

“Well, there’s a great deal to tell. Do you know what I saw, though?”

“What?”

“A night rainbow. I did, I swear.”

“What did it look like?”

“Like a normal rainbow, only cast by the moon’s glow it was, all across the midnight sky. All the colors you can imagine. It spanned one horizon to another.”

“I want to see one!” the boy said indignantly.

“You will. When you’re older and we’re flying together, we’ll stay up late on the perfect night of a full moon and wait for one.”

“What else?”

“I saw the seahorse again.”

“The giant one?”

“And he wasn’t by himself anymore. We were sailing low over the ocean and that water was clear as crystal, and I could see them all below surface. There was a whole herd of them this time. Brilliant orange, each as big as a dolphin, flying through the water.”

I listened, momentarily swept up in the beauty of his tales. Szpirglas’s face and voice were completely altered as he talked to his son, with none of the sharp, mocking humor I’d seen in him aboard the Aurora, none of the danger. His eyes were as wide and guileless as those of his boy. Theodore listened, rapt. My father had once told me such stories.

It made me angry that a man like him should have a son. This boy did not know who his father was, the things he’d done—and if he did, would it even have mattered? What did any of that have to do with him? Here was his father, the man who had adventures, who told glorious stories and held him on his lap and kissed his head. There was nothing else of importance.

“I brought you something,” Szpirglas said, “and then it’s off to bed with you.”

“What is it?” the boy asked, sitting bolt upright.

“I hope I didn’t forget it…”

“Papa!”

“No, no, here it is.” Szpirglas riffled through his breast pocket and brought out a small gold astrolabe. I recognized it at once, for it used to rest in the display case of the Aurora’s A-Deck reception lounge. An artifact from airship days of old.

The boy took it in his small starfish hands.

“An astrolabe,” he breathed.

“Very good. With this, you can cross all the skies of the world using nothing but the stars. Handsome thing, isn’t it?” he said, looking at me.

“Very, sir,” I said.

“Now then, where’s Delilah?” Szpirglas asked. She appeared as if conjured and took Theodore’s hand. The boy didn’t want to leave his father.

“I’ll see you first thing tomorrow,” the pirate promised. “Shall we have breakfast together? You come and wake me the moment you’re up, and we’ll dine just you and me. But now, it’s late for you. Good night, my son.”

I couldn’t look away as he gathered his son once more in his arms and kissed his cheek. The boy kissed him back.

“His mother died in childbirth,” said Szpirglas as he watched his son led away by his nurse. “He’s a fine lad, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Kate said. “He’ll look like you when he’s grown.”

“Do you think?” Szpirglas asked, pleased.

“Oh, yes.”

Dinner was served. The pirates were eager enough for it, judging by the surge of cheering from the dining hall. It looked like pork, but at a glance I could tell it was overdone, and the rice looked a tad singed too. Chef Vlad would have had a fit if he’d seen it. He wouldn’t have served it to the ship’s cat, if we’d had one.

The pirates didn’t mind. Through the doorway I could see all the men and women assembled inside, and they gave a thumping chorus of approval and set to eating happily, cheered no doubt by the frothing mugs upon their tables.

Kate and I ate. We were castaways: we’d eaten next to nothing in two days; we were half-starved. I sluiced the meal down with the mango juice that kept filling up our mugs and felt better than I should have after eating such fare. Indeed, I felt almost relaxed and couldn’t account for it. My thinking was clear and fast, and our situation didn’t seem as dire as it had earlier. We were fooling Szpirglas; we would continue our playacting and tell our shaggy dog stories, and then we’d slip away under cover of night, back to our ship, and be gone.

The evening was cooling, and it was amazing how much fresher the air was here on the windward side of the island. For the first time in days I felt my sense of claustrophobia lift. From the verandah I saw the sun near the horizon, searing the ocean. The wonderful low light slanted through the trees, bathing everything red.

Szpirglas’s wineglass sparkled as he raised it to his lips. Inside the lodge, the women sang. The mango juice was delicious. The food did not taste so dry.

Suddenly my stomach clenched.

I was getting drunk. Some flavorless alcohol had been added to our mango juice, and I’d been guzzling it down like an idiot. So that was Szpirglas’s game—he wanted the truth from us and wasn’t above gliding it out of us with drink. I looked at Kate, and she smiled back at me, her cheeks flushed. How pretty she looked. But we would say something foolish soon if we were not careful. I took a deep breath, tried to sharpen up my mind.

“How many other passengers were you carrying?” Szpirglas asked me.

“Just the two, sir. Miss Simpkins and her mother.”

“It was a private charter, then, was it?”

I nodded, and perhaps it was the lift of Szpirglas’s eyebrow, but suddenly I realized my mistake. All along I’d thought it would be easier to explain away a smaller ship and fewer passengers. There would be less wreckage, fewer survivors who might wash up on the island. But Szpirglas saw what I hadn’t. A private charter meant wealthy passengers. And if Kate was wealthy, how wealthy? Who would be glad to get her back? How much would they be willing to pay?

“Your wristwatch,” Szpirglas said to Kate, “does it still work?”

I turned in dismay; I’d forgotten Kate had a wristwatch, concealed beneath the sleeve of her tunic until now. It was a fancy-looking thing too, the strap inlaid with some kind of jewels. I did not know their names, but they looked sparkly enough, and no doubt Szpirglas had instantly totted up their value in his head. Only someone wealthy would have a wristwatch as fine as this one. I felt sick.

“It does work, you know,” said Kate. “Isn’t that amazing, after being waterlogged and thrashed about?”

This was a clever bit of covering up on Kate’s part, for the chances of a wristwatch surviving a shipwreck and sea journey aboard a raft were next to nil.

“A miraculous piece of machinery,” said Szpirglas. “Swiss, perhaps?”

“Icelandic, actually.”

“Now, then, you must have loved ones you’re both eager to contact,” said Szpirglas, putting down his fork and pushing back in his chair.

“Is it possible?” Kate asked, eyes widening with hope. “My father will be desperate. He was waiting for us in the Hawaiis. Mother and I were visiting my aunt.”

“You all live in the Hawaiis, do you?” Szpirglas asked.

“Yes. Not originally. We moved there for my father’s work.”

“And what work does your father do there?”

“He’s the chief superintendent of police,” said Kate.

“Is he?” said Szpirglas, smiling.

“His work is very demanding, or he would have come with us on our trip.”

I did not know what to think of this invention. Was she trying to deter Szpirglas from harming us, thinking he’d fear incurring the full wrath of the police? I did not like it—it might easily have the opposite effect on a man like Szpirglas. Worse, he might actually know the name of the police chief, in which case we had just been discovered as liars. But it was out now, and I would have to abide by its new rules. I wished Kate were not so enthusiastic at this game of deceit.

“Mr. Crumlin, bring pen and paper for these two so they can write messages.” He turned to us. “Make sure to include the address so we can telegram them for you.”

“Would you!” said Kate.

“And your family too, my lad. Let them know you’re all right.”

I nodded eagerly, but a worry sprang into my head. No doubt they did have a wireless on board, but this was just a ruse. What they really wanted was to check on Kate’s identity.

“We’ll radio in the morning from our ship. We’ll take off first thing and you can show us to the crash site—as close as you can recall anyway, and we can begin a search for your dear mother. After that, we can arrange for your passage on to the Hawaiis.”

“You’re very kind, sir. Thank you,” said Kate.

“Not at all, miss. It’s a pleasure to assist such fine young people.” He looked at Kate as he said this, and I did not care for the look.

“Now, tonight, all you need do is rest yourselves. Our accommodation is a bit humbler than you’re used to, no doubt, Miss Simpkins, but please take my private cabin for yourself. It will give you some comfort.”

“Oh, no, that’s quite unnecessary.”

“I insist. Mr. Cruse, you won’t mind bunking with Mr. Crumlin and me?”

“Not at all, no. Thank you very much.”

I’d feared as much. I’d assumed Kate and I were to be separated, but I hadn’t counted on sharing a room with Szpirglas and his mate.

Mr. Crumlin appeared with some dog-eared bits of paper and a bottle of ink.

“There you are,” said Szpirglas. “Just a brief note to let them know you’re well. No point in adding more worry to your traumas.”

What was I to do? I scribbled a note and invented an address in Lionsgate City.

“And now you, miss,” said Szpirglas, moving the nib and bottle over to her.

I could not imagine what she would write, but prayed she would invent some address. The message itself did not matter, but I wondered if Kate was thinking clearly.

“My father will be so relieved,” she said, “and most grateful. Is there some way we can make a donation to the Sky Guard in thanks? I can think of no more worthier institution than yours.”

“You’re very kind, miss.”

“My father is most influential, and I’m sure he’d be only too happy to sing your praises.”

I wished she’d shut up about her father and all his money. She was not helping.

“Now, then, let me speak to my steward and see about your cabin, Miss Simpkins.”

He and Mr. Crumlin left us alone at the table. The other crew were still swilling and eating inside, the windows tipped open. There was much loud singing and cheering. We could finally speak together.

“Shush about your father,” I told her.

“Why?”

“He might think you’re worth holding on to for a ransom.”

“We’re escaping,” she said jauntily.

I frowned. Typical of her to have the fairy-tale plan. Easy as that. Let’s just escape. Never mind that I’d be cooped up in a room with Szpirglas and his mate.

“Got it all figured out, then, do you?”

“I do, actually. Can I finish off your mango juice?”

“No.” I pushed the mug away from her reaching hand. “It’s spiked with something. He’s trying to get us drunk so we’d slip up if we were lying.”

“Good luck to him,” she said. “I’m not in the slightest bit slipsy.”

“You just said slipsy.”

“I know. I was just teasing. Now listen,” she whispered, “when everyone’s asleep, we’ll slip out of our rooms and get back to the ship. It’ll be ready to take off by morning, won’t it?”

She wasn’t as dopey as I’d thought. “That’s what I’m hoping,” I told her. “Can you find your way across the landing field to the place we came out of the forest? Do you remember the way?”

“Of course,” she said, her nostrils narrowing a bit. “I’m not as hopeless as you like to think.”

“Good. We’ll meet there.” I thought briefly of the cloud cat, but surely it was not nocturnal: we’d always seen it during the day.

“Shall we set a time?” Kate asked.

“No point. These lads may be up to all hours whooping it up. Wait until it gets quiet, and make your run when you can. It’ll be a big moon tonight, and clear, so keep to the shadows. There may be lookouts. Then just wait for me in the trees if I’m not already there.”

I wished the plan could have been better. If I’d known where we were each to be lodged, we might have made a rendezvous sooner; as it was, we’d just have to do our best alone.

I saw Szpirglas coming back toward us and all I had time to say to Kate safely was “Don’t fall asleep,” and then we shut up. There could be no more planning. I only hoped that we’d played our parts well enough, that Szpirglas thought us ignorant and would not be expecting us to flee the village in the dead of night.