“What does that cable do? Why? What makes it work? Why don’t we hurry up and take off? What are you doing?”
“Because, Your Highness, if we discovered something broken up there”-Hugh pointed at the sky-“it would be of no use fixing it.”
“Why?”
“Because we’d be dead.”
Bane subsided for a second or two, then began again. “What’s its name? I can’t read the letters. Dra . . . Dragon …”
“Dragon Wing.”
“How big is it?”
“Fifty feet.” Hugh peered up at the dragonskin covering the hull. The blue-black scales glistened with rainbow colors when the sun struck them. Walking beneath them, the length and breadth of the keel, Hugh satisfied himself that no scales were missing.
Coming around to the front, Bane practically tripping at his heels, he gazed intently at two large crystal panes set into what would be the dragon’s breast. These panes, designed to look like the breastplates of a dragon’s armor, were, in reality, windows. Hugh, seeing scratches across one, frowned. A branch must have fallen and struck it.
“What’s behind those?” asked Bane, noting Hugh studying them intently.
“The steerage. That’s where the pilot sits.”
“Can I go in there? Will you teach me to fly?”
“It takes months and months of study to learn to fly, Your Highness,” responded Alfred, seeing that Hugh was too busy to reply. “Not only that, but the pilot has to be physically strong in order to operate the wings.”
“Months?” Bane appeared disappointed. “But what’s there to learn? You just get up there and”-he waved a hand-“fly.”
“You have to know how to get where you’re going, Your Highness,” said the chamberlain. “In deepsky, so I’ve been told, there are no landmarks, very few points of reference. It is sometimes difficult to tell up from down. You must know how to use the navigational equipment on board, as well as being familiar with the skyroutes and the airlanes-”
“That stuff’s not hard to learn. I’ll teach you,” said Hugh, seeing the child’s face fall.
Bane brightened. Twitching the feather amulet back and forth, he skipped along after Hugh, who was walking the full length of the hull, examining the seams where metal and bone had melded to the epso [12] keel. There were no cracks. Hugh would have been surprised to find any. He was a skilled and careful pilot. He’d seen, firsthand, what happened to those who weren’t, to those who didn’t take care of their ships.
He moved on to the stern. The hull arched gracefully upward, forming the afterdeck. A single dragon’s wing-the ship’s rudder-hung from the back of the hull. Cables attached to the end of the rudder swung limply in the wind. Grasping the rope. Hugh swung his legs onto the bottom rib of the rudder. Hand over hand, he climbed up the cable.
“Let me come! Please!” On the ground below, Bane jumped for the cable, flapping his arms as though he might fly up without help.
“No, Your Highness!” said a pale-faced Alfred, grasping the prince by the shoulder and firmly holding on to him. “We’ll be going up there all too soon, as it is. Let Sir Hugh get on with his work.”
“All right,” said Bane with cheerful good grace. “Say, Alfred, why don’t we go looking for some berries to take with us?”
“Berries, Your Highness?” said Alfred, in some astonishment. “What kind of berries?”
“Just . . . berries. To eat with supper. I know they grow in woods like this. Drogle told me.” The child’s blue eyes were wide open-as they tended to be when he was proposing something; the blue irises glinted in the midday sun. His hand toyed with the feather amulet.
“A stableboy is hardly a fit companion for Your Highness,” Alfred remonstrated. He cast a glance at the tempting stretches of cable, tied to the trees within easy reach and seemingly just made to be climbed by small boys. “Very well, Your Highness, I will take you searching for berries.”
“Don’t wander far,” warned Hugh’s voice above them. “Don’t worry, sir,” returned Alfred in hollow tones. The two traipsed off into the woods-the chamberlain sliding down into ravines and careening off trees, the boy dashing into thickets and losing himself among the heavy undergrowth. “Berries,” muttered the Hand.