Page 108 of Carousel

Cosmer rounds on her. “Hear me out. Drake and I...” He stops. Starts again. “I’ve done my part. Taken him to drills and the Training Room. Introduced him to the pilots. Got him off on a good foot with them.”

He combs a hand through his hair, which still looks mussed. I wonder how mine must look. I didn’t have time to brush it properly, just tied it over my shoulder with my ribbon.

“I’ve shown him everything I can,” he continues. “He’s seen the ship. He’s a good fighter – which is a bit irrelevant, since his blood magic stops anyone from being a good opponent. He corrects me when I’m flying a hawker, so there’s nothing for him to learn there⁠—”

“Are you mocking me?” Drake inputs.

Cosmer says, in a serious tone, “No. Are you not listening? I’m complimenting you. You’re the better man, through and through, and we’re very lucky to have you.”

He actually gives him a friendly slap on the back.

What is happening?

Drake recoils from Cosmer’s touch.

“Cosmer—” Riss tries to cut in.

Cosmer ploughs on – fast, words tripping over each other. “Riss – I’m sure you could show Drake some of what you do in Intelligence. Who knows, maybe he’ll even crack that code for you, since he can do everything else. And if you take him down to the Training Room later, I’m sure the other pilots will keep an eye on him for you for a while⁠—”

Riss finally manages to get a word in. “We have Integration plans,” she says, producing my book with an irritated flick of her wrist. “And I’ve been working really hard on mine. Plus, Ara is needed in Intelligence. Dezeeves placed her with me because he thought she had skills that would help us win this war⁠—”

“Ara, what are your skills that Dezeeves thinks will help us win this war?”

“I can speak a few languages,” I reply. “More than a few.”

He nods. “Great. And Riss can hear every message that comes in on every radio in her room, and let’s not forget she also has an excellent memory, seeing as how she can remember every mistake we’ve all ever made.” He pauses for breath – only for a second. “And we already have Rhavnan translators. So, if, say, the Lorallahans or the Crallians decide, today, to get involved in this war and send us a message of unwavering support or imminent bombing – I’m completely positive Riss will be able to copy it down for you to translate.”

He exhales, hard. Smiles.

And I’m thrilled.

“So, we all have nothing to worry about. Right?” Briskly, he finds my arm and slots his fingers between mine. “Let’s go, Ara. I’ll show you my ship.”

We start walking off, our hands entwined before Cosmer seems to realise that’s probably not a good idea and lets go.

How are we going to keep our hands off each other all day?

Behind us, Riss yells, “But, the plans!”

Cosmer takes me down to the same docking pod we entered the ship on and closes the hatch behind us. It muffles the sound of clunking and chatter from the hallway.

Instantly, I feel relief. It’s so different when it’s just the two of us.

His ship is still there in the middle of the small windowless space, well-lit by the Lartosi laser lights in the walls. It makes the brown metal shine. Sharpens the look of its wings.

“This is Bumble,” he says, throwing out an arm, as if the ship is a person I’m being introduced to. “You didn’t properly get to see her when we came down, did you? There was a lot going on. And it was getting dark.”

“Don’t tell me you named your ship.”

“Lovely, isn’t she?”

I eye the ship up and down. These futuristic machines I only associate with war still make me uncomfortable.

“I don’t know enough about ships to know either way. But, sure.”

He takes my hands in his.

“I didn’t really take you here to admire my ship. I just wanted to take you somewhere we could be alone.” He strokes his thumb over my wrist. “I don’t know how long we’ll be able to be together. There’s nothing about switching keepers in The Accords. But if Riss complains to Dezeeves…”