Page 5

“You ready?” Papa asked.

“Yes,” I lied.

“One last thing.” He went back to the cart and withdrew a tube about as long as my arm, the kind used for carrying documents or maps. “This is for you,” he said.

I peered at the package.

“Don’t open it yet,” Papa continued. “You’re going to a new city, all by yourself. It won’t be easy, and we won’t be there to help you.” His voice dropped low, just for me. “Open this when you need us, and remember that we’re never too far away.”

I wanted to thank him, but my throat was tight with emotion. Papa hugged me once more, then held my hand to steady me as I stepped from the dock onto the boat. It dipped under my weight, and I struggled to find balance as I wove between the crates of vegetables and sat down on a box behind Dilada. I settled my hip bag beside me and clutched the carrying tube in both hands, too nervous to let it rest on the wooden floor of the boat.

Carso stood, using a long rod to push off from the dock and point the boat south while Dilada set the sails. I tried to be as small and out of the way as possible, stuffing my shirt into my waistband so the wind wouldn’t blow it around. Behind us, Papa had moved Jojo back up the hill and sat on the cart, shading his eyes with his arm, watching us until we were out of sight.

“He’s a good man,” Dilada said, plopping down beside me.

I nodded silently.

“Helped us out after...” Her eyes shifted.

After. Suddenly, the memory burst inside me. Papa talking about the farmer in the village beyond the chryssmum gate, his wife who baked better than Mama, their two children... a boy and a girl, left as orphans after the parents fell ill with the Wasting Death and died.

The ride to Northface Harbor wasn’t unpleasant. The water was clear and blue, the waves gentle. Carso made one stop—dropping his sister off at the forest in the center of the island, where she had a job waiting for her to help cut timber. Carso and I lunched aboard the boat, snacking on produce from the crates and dropping the carrot stems into the water when we were done. I shared the bread Mama had packed for me.

“Is that where the governor lives?” I asked, pointing to a castle on a small island close to the shore. Gray stone steps dipped straight into the water, leading up to a tall brick building with spires on each corner and a giant clockface on a tower in the center.

Carso shook his head. “Nah, that’s the quarantine hospital.”

I stared up at the ornate building. It was a good idea, I thought, to put the hospital in the bay, using the water to separate the sick from the healthy.

Carso grew quieter as we approached Blackdocks at the base of Northface Harbor. He had to wait for the dock master to clear him a spot, and then he hopped down, waving over a man with a cart. The two clearly knew each other, and they started talking as I carefully made my way off the low boat and onto the dock.

“Your pa gave me coin to make sure your trunk got to Yugen,” Carso said, nodding to the other man. “You can ride with him while he delivers the produce. It’ll put you at the school a little later. Or you can walk up on your own, and he’ll bring the trunk tonight.”

I looked up the hill. Everything about Northface Harbor was built on an incline; the streets wound their way higher and higher. Blackdocks bustled with activity, and the factories and mills thatsprouted along the water spat out smoke that obscured my vision. But it seemed as if the houses grew nicer the farther uphill I looked, and I wanted to see my new city on my own terms.

“I’ll walk,” I said. I adjusted my hip bag and repositioned the tube from Papa—I wasn’t willing to entrust those for delivery.

Carso grunted in a way that made it clear he thought I’d made the right choice. “Take that street,” he said, pointing. “Go up—you’ll run right into that school of yours.”

“Thank you.”

“I make deliveries every week.” His eyes searched mine. “You need to come home, just meet me here. I’ll take you.”

“Did Papa...?” I asked, patting my pockets, looking for my coin purse.

“You go on,” Carso said, nodding toward the street.

“Thank you,” I said again.

“Hurry it up!” the dock master shouted. “We need the ports!”

Carso and his friend turned back to unloading the boat, and I headed toward the street that would take me to my new home.

“Flowers for the governor!” a young female voice called. I watched as a girl with cropped hair and an apron full of red poppy-buds dashed up to a couple standing on the corner. They were well dressed; a hunter green suit for the man, a tailored dress with a sweeping skirt for the lady.

“Just two coppers,” the girl insisted, thrusting the flower under the lady’s nose. When she ignored her, the girl turned to the man. “Buy a bud for your lady,” she insisted. “The governor’s own flower, sure to bring luck tonight.”

“Go away,” the man said, not even deigning to look at her. He bore an accent I wasn’t familiar with, and I wondered which of the fine ships in the bay he’d come from.