Her eyes swept the dark perfunctorily as she talked. “He’ll tell you he’s the best because he believes it. He’ll tell you he should be your Captain because he’s confident he should be. You might think him boastful or brash, you might even think him reckless. He’s neither. He’s just very good at flying airships.” She paused. “No, not just good. He’s much better than that. He’s great. He’s gifted. He is the best I’ve ever known, the best that anyone’s ever seen. The soldiers talked about him on the Prekkendorran like that. Everyone who knows him does. They think he’s got luck. And he does, but it’s mostly luck he makes by being brave and smart and talented.”
She glanced at him. “Do I sound like a younger sister talking about a big brother she idolizes?” She snorted softly. “I am, but I’m not deceived by my feelings for him. I’ve been his protector and conscience for too long. We were born to the same mother, different fathers. We never knew either father very well, just vague memories. They were sailors, wanderers. Our mother died when we were still very young. I looked after him for much of his life; I was better at it than he was. I know him, I understand him. I know his abilities and shortcomings, strengths and weaknesses. I’ve seen him succeed and fail. I wouldn’t lie about him to anyone, least of all to myself. So when I tell you Big Red is worth two of any other man, you should listen to me. When I tell you he’s the best man you’ll find for your journey, you ought to pay attention.”
“I am,” Walker said quietly.
She smiled. “Well, where would you go if you didn’t want to?
You’re my captive audience.” She paused, studying him. “You have intelligence, Walker. I can see you thinking all the time. I look inside your eyes and see your mind at work. You listen, you measure, and you judge accordingly. You’ll make your own decision about this expedition and us. What I say won’t influence you. That’s not why I’m telling you how I feel about Big Red. I’m telling you so you will know where I stand.”
She paused and waited, and after a moment, he nodded. “That’s fair enough.”
She sighed and shifted on the seat. “Frankly, I don’t care about the money. I have enough of that. What I don’t have is peace of mind or a sense of future or something to believe in again. I had those once, when I was younger. Somewhere along the way, I lost them. I’m sick at heart and wornout. The past three years, fighting on the Prekkendorran, chasing Freeborn back and forth across the heights, killing them now and then, burning their airships, spilling fire on their camps—it charred my soul. The whole business was stupid. A war over land, over territorial rights, over national dominion—what does any of it matter? Except for the money, I have nothing to show for that experience.”
She fixed him with her green eyes. “I don’t sense this about your expedition. I don’t feel that a Druid would bother with something so petty. Tell me the truth—is your enterprise going to offer anything more?”
She was so intense as she stared at him that he was momentarily taken aback by her depth of feeling. “I’m not sure,” he said after a moment. “There is more to what I’m asking you to do than the money I’ve offered. There are lives at stake besides our own. There are freedoms to be lost and maybe a world to be changed for better or worse. I can’t see far enough into the future to be certain. But I can tell you this much. By going, we might make a difference that will mean something to you later.”
She smiled. “We’re going to save the world, is that it?”
His face remained expressionless. “We might.”
The smile disappeared. “All right, I won’t make a joke of it. I won’t even suggest you might be overstating what’s possible. I’ll allow myself to believe a little in what you’re promising. It can’t hurt. A little belief on both sides might be a good beginning to a partnership, don’t you think?”