Forty.

ELLIOT WAS TOLD THAT the Boatwright's funeral was very spa.r.s.ely attended, most of the Luddites having vacated the North estate as soon as the story of Elliot's banishment and the baron's change of funeral locale got around. Idly, Elliot wondered which more offended their neighbors: the fact that the baron had disowned his by-all-accounts capable and hardworking daughter for daring to accept the bequest of her grandfather, or the way he dishonored his father-in-law's funeral rights. No one could remember a Boatwright whose body had not been sent out to sea.

He'd done it to spite her-of that Elliot was sure. If her grandfather was not put on the pyre and sent off to sea from the Boatwright estate, then Elliot would not be able to witness it. She'd kept Tatiana's note to the baroness, reading it over and over for some hint of her sister's state of mind when she wrote it. But it had been carefully crafted to contain nothing but a simple conveyance of information and common courtesy.

That's what made it so curious. Elliot had rarely seen Tatiana without an opinion or a sarcastic remark. She'd lived with her sister's cruelty and self-importance all her life. Where was the judgment on Elliot in this note? Where was the frustration?

Even her words to Elliot in the barn loft that day had been suspiciously void of emotion. With Tatiana, that was almost as good as approval.

The baroness had been one of the few to attend the Boatwright's funeral. "He deserved more honor than that," she explained to Elliot, as they sat in the parlor of the Boatwright house and enjoyed the lemony light of the winter morning. On the wall, the rubbed bronze of her grandfather's compa.s.s glowed dimly in the glare, its wheel, as always, spinning gently.

"But I chose not to add insult to injury by ignoring him. A shoddy piece of work. The North star cavern is beautiful, of course, but it's not the Boatwright way."

Elliot had closed her eyes to keep from weeping. At least, she thought, her grandfather had been laid to rest beside her mother.

"Also," the baroness went on, "I went to keep my relationship with your family strong. I hope to invite the North heir to visit me in the Channel. I think it would be a most productive trip for all of us."

Elliot nodded in understanding. In Channel City, the baroness's word was law. If she wished to hold Benedict North accountable for his actions as "Ben"-she must do it on her land.

"Why this?" Elliot asked. "For years I've heard of the dangers in the enclaves down in Channel City. What makes you motivated to stop this?"

Beneath her veil, the baroness smiled sadly. "I have been remiss, I suppose. For the longest time, the activities in the enclaves seemed to be something separate from me, from the society I presided over in the main part of the city. The Posts who lived there were not my Posts. They were not my problem. But every year there were more of them, and recently it's become clear to me that I have no right to take advantage of their fashions, technology, and even friendship if I abandon responsibility over the more unsavory elements of their situation. If the enclaves are my domain, then so are the illegal activities taking place there."

Elliot stiffened. Did the baroness know that her "friends" the Innovations were also engaging in illegal activities? "What will happen to him?" Elliot asked.

The baroness shrugged. "Very little, to be honest, Elliot. The tribunal has no punishment in place for a Luddite lord who mistreats someone from the lower caste. But if your father wishes, he might be able to use the scandal to leverage a challenge to his brother's will. After all, Benedict did abandon the estate for nearly a decade. If he truly wanted his inheritance, he could have claimed it years ago. Your father, for all appearances, has been running it since. His claim is likely to be a valid one, especially since the tribunal would be loath to hand an entire estate to a man who has been known to abuse the people in his care." She folded her hands. "I know that doesn't help your situation with the North workers much, but your father will drop the challenge to your grandfather's will once he sees how much easier the battle will be to win the North estate."

Elliot looked out the window. One step at a time. The trick with Benedict would be treading lightly. He'd written her once, asking both to visit her and for an answer to his proposal. Her first instinct had been to ignore his letter, but she feared raising his suspicions. And she certainly didn't want him visiting the Boatwright house. After a long consideration, she responded: Dear Benedict, Thank you for your letter. Rest a.s.sured, I am doing quite well here, and my only concern is for the welfare of the North laborers. I am sure you agree with me that it is important to remain cautious and impartial for the time being, lest we raise my father's anger.

Your cousin, Elliot North Chancellor Boatwright The note satisfied the standard of truthfulness that Elliot's conscience required without betraying her real feelings toward its recipient.

Though she had been tempted to drag it through the floor of the Boatwright chicken house.

Now the baroness stood. "That's all the hope I can give you now, Miss Elliot."

"It's enough to go on." Elliot rose, too, and shook the woman's hand. "Thank you, on behalf of myself and the workers on the North estate. And Andromeda, too. She may not admit it, but she'll relish any punishment Benedict gets."

"She'd prefer to see him dead, I think," the baroness observed. "Perhaps instead of forcing him before the tribunal, I should just release him into the most dangerous neighborhood in Channel City with an ounce of gold jingling in his pocket."

Elliot's eyes widened, but there was no indication that the older woman was joking.

"At any rate," the baroness went on, "I'd do anything for the Innovations, or any of their friends."

"They've made that much money through your investments?" Elliot asked.

The baroness chuckled. "No, dear. They saved my sight." She lifted the edge of her veil, and for the first time Elliot saw her faceted, ERV-enhanced eyes. The baroness pressed her finger to her lips and departed, leaving Elliot to sit in stunned silence brought about by the sight of an abomination on a Luddite face. She'd a.s.sumed she was the only Luddite to know of the Cloud Fleet's secrets, but of course that couldn't be true. They had other friends-of longer standing than Elliot, and probably closer, too. They had to have allies elsewhere. And given the permissiveness she'd seen among the southern Luddites these past few days, given her own temptation when it came to her grandfather's illness and her recent conclusions about how her fellow lords would react to news of her wheat, it shouldn't surprise her that somebody had taken that step. The baroness said the Innovations had saved her sight. Would she have been blind without their interventions? Had Felicia used a therapy on Baroness Channel that had failed on Sophia?

And, most of all, how soon would it be until the protocols crumbled to dust?

She was still considering this when Kai found her several minutes later. Though she thought she'd see more of him now that they were living under the same roof, Kai spent most of his time down by the shipyard. From all reports, very soon they'd be finished, and she supposed his mechanical expertise was in high demand. Elliot remembered a time, long ago, when she'd imagined Kai working in the Boatwright shipyard permanently. What an a.s.set he would have been to the estate.

And yet, if he'd stayed, would he have ever developed beyond the limitations set by the Luddites? Would he have invented the sun-carts, or the ma.s.sive sun-ship that was slowly being a.s.sembled down by the docks?

As much as Elliot hated to admit it, the answer was no.

"I've been to see Ro," said Kai. "And yes, I met your father on the border as I left. He wanted to make sure I wasn't smuggling her over."

"How is she?" Elliot asked, shaking free of her shock.

"Sad," he said. "I did my best to explain why you had to leave her the other day, and why you couldn't come to see her anymore. I don't know if she understood."

Elliot pushed out of her chair and began to pace the room. "I can't leave her there."

Kai studied her nervous movements as if debating his next words. "That's not all, Elliot. Your father has moved her out of her cottage. She's in the women's barracks."

Elliot grimaced and covered her face with her hands. She sucked in several deep breaths, then lowered her arms and stared at the compa.s.s on the wall.

Hold on, Ro. I'll be coming for you soon.

"We can't let her stay there."

"Can't we?" asked Kai. "She's eighteen. All the other girls her age have already been moved to the women's barracks. I love Ro as much as you do, but there are other Reduced girls there, and they're fine."

"They aren't fine in the birthing house," Elliot said. "I've seen it and I don't want Ro there."

She felt his hands on her arms, and he gently turned her to face him. "Elliot," he said softly. "It's all right. It isn't a torture chamber." Even without the benefit of enhancements, she was sure she noticed every twitch of Kai's muscles, every tiny jerk of his head, every beat of his heart. His skin on hers felt warm enough to burn. "My mother, Ro's mother, their deaths were not your fault. They weren't your mother's fault, either. And keeping Ro alone won't protect her from everything."

She spun away from him. "Don't tell me how things work on the North estate."

"I'm not. I'm telling you how they work in our world. I want that to change, not just for Ro. For everyone."

Elliot was quiet for a moment. She looked at the compa.s.s, out the window, anywhere but at Kai.

"If you decide for her that she will always be alone-never have a family of her own-how is that any better?"

Elliot swallowed thickly as tears of shame burned her eyes. He was right, there, too. Ro would make an excellent mother. She was kind and playful and full of joy. She could teach her children-Reduced or maybe even Post-to laugh and dance and grow flowers.

"I suppose," she said ruefully, still looking away, "that's all I'm good for. A Luddite imposing limits on the people under my care."

"That's not true," he replied. "And it's not what I think, either."

She turned and gazed into his superhuman eyes.

"I want you to know . . . ," he said, his words halting, careful. "I probably should have told you this some time ago, but . . . I understand now. I understand why you stayed."

Her breath caught in her throat.

"For a long time, I tried to tell myself otherwise. That when you said . . ." He hesitated again. "When you said you were a Luddite and I was not, it was that you-" He bit his lip.

Her letter. The letter she'd sent because she hadn't the courage to tell him to his face that she wouldn't be going with him. She hadn't the strength to try, because she was too fearful that she'd never be able to see it through.

"I tried to believe you thought you were better than me."

She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up his hand.

"It was easier, I guess."

Easier. Like writing him a letter instead of risking going near him when she knew she'd never let him walk away alone. How much had they both suffered doing things they thought were easier?

"But I do understand. I see you doing it again now, doing whatever you can to protect the people on your lands. And . . . I'm proud of you, Elliot."

She choked back a sob, though she wasn't sure she could hide it from his enhanced ears. She didn't want his pride. She wanted something much greater and far more elemental. Something foolish to even think of right now, when her friends were suffering on the North estate and she had no idea how to get them back. When Kai was building a ship so he could leave these islands for good. When Olivia Grove lay injured at the estate next door, waiting for a visit from the captain she loved.

She'd been wrong. Maybe talking four years ago would have made Kai understand-but it wouldn't have made it easier.

There was the sound of wheels crunching on the gravel outside, and Elliot turned her head to see Horatio and Olivia pulling up in a new sun-cart. It gleamed red and gold against the bare winter browns, and Elliot drew away from Kai in surprise. So he'd made Olivia a sun-cart in her favorite colors.

Perhaps he hadn't been spending all his time in the shipyard.

She turned her back on Kai and brushed tears from her eyes as Horatio helped his sister down from the cart and up the front steps of the porch.

"Here for your music lesson?" Elliot called to them as brightly as she could manage. Olivia came every day like clockwork to sing with Donovan. Felicia called it music therapy, and it was true that the girl's diction was much clearer when she sang. Horatio believed the benefits were more emotional than physical. "There's something magical about Donovan's playing," he'd told Elliot a few days earlier, and Elliot hadn't had the heart to tell him that he was very nearly right.

"Yes," said Olivia. She lowered her chin and sneaked a glance at Kai that was probably meant to be coy, but came across as shy and even reluctant. "Will you come to listen, Mal'kai?"

"No," he said curtly. "I have work on the ship. Perhaps some other time."

The girl nodded and Horatio scowled his disappointment in Kai's direction. Kai shook Horatio's hand, kissed Olivia's, sent one last, perplexing look in Elliot's direction and departed.

"I don't know what we'll do when they leave, Elliot," said Horatio. "Olivia will be bereft. Her daily visits are the only thing that keeps her happy."

Elliot knew just how she felt.

"Where's Donovan?" Olivia asked. "It's time for the music."

Forty-one.

TATIANA WAS LIGHTING THE sconces in the star cavern when Elliot arrived, more than a week later. She'd thought it prudent to wait until her father had grown tired of spending his days patrolling the border between their estates. In the past week, Benedict had left for the Channel, and Felicia had received word from the baroness that things were proceeding according to plan. Elliot had been relieved by the news, but it wasn't enough. Kai had been right. This wasn't merely about Ro, or even Dee or Jef. This was about every person on the estate, including the ones in her family, who would be in trouble if the baron's edicts were maintained.

The winter chill lingered down here, and Elliot wrapped her shawl more tightly around herself. In the flare of the matches, Elliot could see that her sister wore long, fingerless gloves and a thick scarf.

"It was very dangerous of you to come here," Tatiana said when she saw her. "I could tell Father."

"You could," Elliot replied. "But I don't think you will."

Tatiana moved to another set of sconces.

"I've heard you've been spending a lot of time down here. More than you did even when we were growing up."

Tatiana shrugged. "I'm paying homage to our dead ancestors." Her voice was clipped, but there was a slight waver at the end that gave her away. Tatiana was frightened.

Mags had sent word that Tatiana spent hours in the sanctuary every day, lighting candles and saying prayers for the soul of the Boatwright. Her father's decision rested uneasily on her. Tatiana possessed many faults, but callousness toward the Luddite traditions her ancestors held sacred was not one of them.

It was Elliot's only chance. "His spirit would be more at peace if he was sent out to sea."

"Your obstinance has made that impossible."

Elliot shook her head. "I have never forbidden anyone from coming onto the Boatwright estate. It's our father who won't cross the border, not even to lay our grandfather to rest in the manner of his ancestors."

She saw Tatiana swallow hard. Her eyes looked gla.s.sy in the candlelight. "Is that what you're here to do? Order me to relinquish Grandfather's body?"

"I'm here to talk to my sister about doing what we both know is right for him."

For a moment, Tatiana was silent. "It was over the line," she said at last. "Our workers belong here. But Grandfather does not." She sat down in a nearby alcove. Above her, the insect stars glowed dimly. "But if he goes, Father will be so upset."

"And then what?" Elliot asked.

"Then he'll be upset!" Tatiana repeated angrily. "That must not seem like much to you, but I don't like disappointing him." She looked away. "I'm enough of a disappointment already."

Elliot drew closer. "What do you mean?"

"I failed to get the Boatwright estate for him. I failed to win Benedict's hand. We'll be left with nothing when Benedict gets back from Channel City and takes over the estate."

Elliot couldn't help but smile at this. "Benedict won't take over the estate, Tatiana. Even now, he's being detained by Baroness Channel for crimes committed in Channel City."

"What?" Tatiana exclaimed, and the syllable echoed around the cavern, inciting the stars.

"You heard me. He'll appear before the tribunal. He may have his land stripped from him. At the very least, it puts you and Father in a good position to take back the estate for good."

Tatiana's expression was suspicious. "How do you know about this?"

"From Baroness Channel," said Elliot. She spread her arms. "What inducement would I have to lie? Like you said, it's not my estate."

"What kind of crimes?" Tatiana asked. "If it's like before, he won't get any punishment from the tribunal."

Elliot wasn't so sure of that. Baroness Channel was on the tribunal, his activities had taken place in her city, and she had a strong incentive to come away with a decision that would keep the Cloud Fleet happy. This might be one time that the corruption of the Luddites would work in the Posts' favor. And there was something more, too. Something none of the Luddites-except, perhaps, Benedict himself-had taken into consideration.