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“It’s all right. I’m just glad we get to spend more time together. Even if it’s just for today.” I let a faint smile cross my face. “Although, you know you were a little rude up there, don’t you?”

He looks sheepish. “I know. I’ll apologise to Riss later. I just… I couldn’t be separated from you today. Not when I had to go without you for three years. And now I know you like me back…”

“I feel the same,” I admit. “But telling Drake he’s the better man! His face⁠—”

Cosmer’s smile dies.

“He is, though, isn’t he?”

A beat.

“No,” I say. “Never.”

I watch Cosmer’s throat, bobbing as it swallows.

“Last night,” I start. “You said something to me I thought was strange.” Studying his face like it’s a test, I say, “You said if I still wanted you tomorrow, then we’d go from there. What did you mean by that?”

His cheekbones pierce his cheeks. “I meant exactly that. If you still wanted me, in the light of day, completely sober…” He adds, wincing, “And when Drake is around⁠—”

“Don’t say his name.”

He lets go of my fingers. “How can I not? It’s like he’s here. I saw the way he was looking at you just now. He knows full well what’s going on.”

“Well,” I say, playful. “We did walk off holding hands.”

He’s serious. “Honestly, Ara. He’s, well, the obvious things aside, he’s like you. He knows the dances, and whatever else. He’s from your home. I could never compete with that, because I’m not.”

Keeping my features composed, I step forwards. Tilt my face up to his.

“You’re my home.”

I close the distance between us. Kiss him softly, delicately, my hand on his chest.

I pull away a fraction. Enjoy the smile he’s giving me, like I’m everything he ever wanted. It’s how I must look, to him, too.

“Well?” I say, jerking my head at the ship. “Aren’t you going to show me the inside?”

CHAPTER 20

The Island in the Sea

Cosmer produces the large, slightly rusty key from around his neck. He slots it into the machine and turns it, then yanks up the wide door and jumps in.

I step up and make a move to sit beside him, but he grabs me by the waist and pulls me onto his lap.

With one arm wrapped around me, he points to a thick valve in the pipework above our heads. “Osimidite. It’s lighter than air. It helps ships lift off, but you really don’t need much of it to stay airborne.” He taps the valve. “Feed it in or bleed it out depending on what you need. It gets released outside the ship, so you don’t need to worry about breathing it in.”

Why I would need to worry about breathing it in, I don’t know, but he’s already moving on, placing one of my hands on a prong of the large wooden wheel.

“Obviously, your helm. Same principle as on a sea ship. Controls your rudders.”

Then he takes my other hand and guides it along the control table. Leaves it to rest on a curved lever with a rubber base.

“But you need this to manoeuvre your ship too. Ships run on⁠—”

“Lartosi laser light.”

“Right. When you pull this up, you’re opening what’s known as the emission channel.” Using my hand, he demonstrates. “Thrust from the way the beams expel is what actually moves you – well, that and airflow around your wings, but I won’t bore you with a physics lesson.” He slots the lever back down again until it clicks. “Put the lever back down to cut the thrust. Slowly, though, or you’ll get a sore neck or worse, if you end up getting destabilised.”