After giving it a lot of thought, I’ve decided that this will be my last little note to you. I’ve grown tired of playing with a boy who lives in a barn and only owns one pair of pants. I can’t possibly imagine what you find so fascinating about bunches of rusted metal. It was a fun game while it lasted. But I’m bored now. Please don’t ever talk to me again.
Not your friend,
Elliot
Dear Elliot,
I really wish you’d stop coming and bothering me. I have lots of chores to do, because I’m a servant. I would much rather do the work I’m supposed to than waste everyone’s time by playing with you. I’m twelve years old now, and that means I have to work my allotted twelve hours a day on the farm, and if I don’t, I won’t get fed. I’m sure you don’t want me to starve. So leave me alone.
Not your friend,
Kai
Dear Kai,
That was Tatiana. Don’t worry. Mother has punished her.
Your friend,
Elliot
Dear Elliot,
No kidding.
Your friend,
Kai
PS: Would you really let me starve?
Dear Kai,
That was the craziest part of her letter. I had no idea you worked twelve hours a day. How do you have time to see me at all? How do you have time to read?
Your friend,
Elliot
Dear Elliot,
What do you mean? There are twenty-four hours in a day. I only have to work for twelve.
Your friend,
Kai
Thirty-three
“YOU’RE COMING TO THE race and that’s final. The Reduced laborers can prepare grandfather’s body without your supervision.” Tatiana stood at the door of Elliot’s room and slapped her riding crop impatiently against her thigh. Her dark hair was swept up in an elaborate system of braids that must have taken her maid hours to achieve, and her new riding habit was a deep, rich green velvet, complete with fringe, tassels, and gold buttons. Elliot supposed if she was going to ride a Post horse, she might as well dress up in a Post costume.
The irony was lost on her sister though. Today she was hosting a party for her fellow Luddite lords, but every detail, including the money used to pay for the extravaganza, was Post. This funeral was already an embarrassment. A horse race, to honor the Boatwright? It was ludicrous. Even a boat race would be preferable, but Tatiana and her father wouldn’t triumph there, and there was a real danger that the Cloud Fleet captains would.
“If there is no need to supervise the Reduced, then why do we?” Elliot asked. “Why do we imprison them when they are pregnant? Why do we control their movements? Why do we keep them like slaves?”
Tatiana rolled her eyes. “Don’t be dramatic, little sister. You know what I mean. We have set them a task and they can accomplish it quite well without your help. You are a daughter of Baron North and my sister, and you should be there to see me win this race. If you aren’t there, everyone will wonder why.”
“Or maybe they will think that I am in proper mourning for our grandfather.” Unlike Tatiana, who insisted on riding in the race, despite Elliot’s misgivings. After much more debate than Elliot would have thought possible, they’d come up with a solution that pleased three of the four of them: Benedict would ride one of the Innovation horses for the Norths, and Tatiana would ride the other in honor of her Boatwright heritage.
“The Fleet Posts are coming,” Tatiana said, ignoring Elliot’s remark. “You like them so much, I’m certain you’ll want to see them. And Horatio is bringing Olivia. That means Captain Wentforth will be there.” Her voice dripped with disdain over Kai’s Post moniker. “Don’t you want to see them?”
See them together? Tatiana was truly making a case for herself. “I know you’d prefer not to,” Elliot said.
“If I were you,” Tatiana replied, “I’d attach myself to Horatio as quickly as possible, lest Olivia and her Post friend try to take over the Grove estate.”
Elliot was sick of this argument. Almost as sick as she was of imagining a future where Kai remained here permanently—with Olivia Grove. “The last thing Captain Wentforth needs is an estate. And the last thing we need is any more arranged marriages.”
Tatiana raised her eyebrows in confusion. “What do you mean? Who has arranged a marriage around here?”
So Benedict hadn’t told Tatiana of their mother’s history.
“Elliot?” Tatiana repeated. “Has Father said anything to you?”
Elliot almost laughed at the idea of her father telling her anything. But her father’s renewed closeness to his nephew finally made sense. There was nothing he could do to change Benedict’s claim to the estate. Benedict had been invited home with open arms for Tatiana’s benefit. Her father knew his best chance of keeping the estate for his eldest daughter lay in marrying her off to the Norths’ rightful heir.
But she doubted Benedict would be so easily swayed. No matter what he’d said to her when he first arrived, his snide remarks made it clear he hadn’t forgiven his uncle for the banishment, and he would be unlikely to do anything to oblige him—like following the Luddite tradition of an arranged marriage . . . to his cousin.
“I’m not going to the race,” was all Elliot would say. “I’m going to stay with Grandfather until the funeral. We’ve put it off long enough.”
Tatiana pursed her lips, slapped her riding crop against her leg a few more times, and glared at Elliot. Elliot glared back. Then Tatiana opened her mouth and called out, “Father!”
Elliot sighed.
Her father appeared in the doorway. “Get dressed, Elliot. And not in black, either. Your grandfather would not have wanted you to look so dismal. Remember, this is a celebration of his life.”
“She says she’s not going,” Tatiana whined.
“She most certainly is.”
“But, Father—”
“You’re going to the race,” he stated. “Or I shall bar all visitors from the birthing house.”
Elliot stared at him in bewilderment. If she didn’t attend a party, he would punish an innocent servant and her son. It made no sense whatsoever. None of it had. Putting Dee in the birthing house was a nonsense rule as well. It was nothing but a display of his power over the Posts on the estate. And this—this was nothing more than a display of his power over her. It couldn’t be important to him to see her present at the race. It would only reflect poorly on Tatiana and him if it was revealed that Elliot had chosen not to go.
It was Elliot who held power over him. She couldn’t help the bark of laughter that bubbled up in her throat, couldn’t prevent the escape of words that seemed to have been awaiting their freedom for years.
“Really, Father?” she asked. “And how exactly do you intend on implementing that? Will you be guarding it yourself, or do you expect one of the Post foremen to obey your orders in order to break the heart of a mother and son he has known all his life?”
The second the words were out, she regretted them. Her father’s face turned deadly serious. “You are going to the race, or I will move that Reduced girl out of her private cottage and into the adult barracks. It’s high time she found a man.”
Elliot caught her breath. No. No, she took it all back. This is what came of spending time with the Posts. She thought she could change the world.
The baron smiled mirthlessly. “Not so haughty now, are you? Think I don’t have control over my own estate? I do, and I can do much more besides. I can cancel the laborers’ funeral feast. I can change the locks on that room in the barn you’re so very fond of. You think I don’t know what happens on my own lands, Elliot? You think you’re in charge here? I am sick of your disobedience. You are going to the race because I said so.” He turned to go, then paused. “Oh, and Elliot, these penalties shall apply to any further infractions. Consider it a standing order.”
And then he was gone, leaving Elliot to sink weakly into her chair and Tatiana’s smile to broaden considerably.
“That wi
ll teach you.”
“Go away, Tatiana.” Elliot shook her head. What had she been thinking? She was supposed to be too smart for this. She had been too smart—for three years, ever since the bad time, she’d been oh-so-careful to work around her father. But he still knew just how to hit her. He always did.
Tatiana frowned. “Elliot, you think we don’t care about the Reduced. We do. We’re Luddites. We were born to care. But all the little luxuries you provide them—do they make them work any harder? You were once so kind to that Post boy, and how did he repay you? He ran away and left us all without a mechanic. And how has he repaid you now that he’s so rich? Hasn’t that taught you anything? Our job is not to raise them up. It’s to keep them alive and working and here, for the good of us all.”
Elliot raised her eyes to her sister. “How is the common good served by going to a horse race, Tatiana? When you can explain that, then maybe I will see things your way.”
Thirty-four
THE LUDDITES WHO’D COME to the horse race were a varied lot. It had been so long since the Norths had thrown a house party, Elliot hardly knew what to expect—but the assembled group surprised her. Down in the Channel, things must be changing as quickly as Benedict and the Fleet Posts had hinted at. It was interesting to note which of the visiting Luddites embraced the Post styles and which resisted, more interesting still to see the reactions of the more conservative when Baron North and Tatiana came out in their new, bright velvet clothes. Eyes widened, eyebrows raised, and there were definite whispers among the assembled crowd.
“This is what comes of taking Post money,” was one comment that Elliot managed to make out.
“I’d never have thought it of the Norths, but desperate times, I suppose,” was another.
And, “Harbinger of the end times, if you ask me. Knew it as soon as I saw the invite. Innovation horses, indeed!” rounded out the bunch.
Her family didn’t seem to notice. “One positive of your little outburst this morning,” Tatiana hissed in Elliot’s ear as they walked through the crowd, “is it allowed us to be fashionably late to our own party.”
Elliot tugged on the sleeves of her dress and said nothing. Her hair, too, was arranged in braids and looped up over her head. Her dress was old—it had been her mother’s—and a pale orchid color. She caught the approving nods of some of the harsher critics and inwardly cringed. Little did they know, beneath the Luddite dress, she was more of a radical than anyone in her family.
The Fleet had also arrived, and had concocted a marvelous system of heated pavilions attached to the sun-carts. The Innovations and Groves sat inside, watching the festivities and staying toasty warm. Perhaps the only good thing to come of this spectacle was Olivia’s first appearance in public since her accident. Elliot hadn’t been able to bring herself to visit her yet, for fear of running into Kai, but Tatiana had gone on several occasions. Her sister had reported back that Olivia was as pretty as ever, but had grown “a bit odd.” She was quieter than she used to be and preferred to stay close to her brother.
“Give my regards to the tenants, Elliot,” Baron North said—or rather ordered. “And invite Horatio Grove to sit in our pavilion.”
“Yes, father.” She doubted he would leave his sister’s side, though, nor that he’d prefer the smoky smudge pots in the Luddites’ pavilion to the clear air in the Fleet’s.
As Elliot approached the Post pavilion, she saw that several Luddites sat there, too. Elliot supposed they were former patrons of the admiral’s.
“Good morning, Elliot,” said Felicia. She was dressed in magenta today, and sat on a giant marigold cushion she shared with her husband. Kai stood behind her. “You look lovely in that dress. Its color suits you so well. But I am surprised to see you here today. I thought you might be staying with your grandfather.”
Elliot swallowed and kept her eyes averted from Kai’s face, though he wasn’t doing the same for hers. Indeed, she worried she might melt under the directness of his too-bright gaze. He’d stayed away from her since the night of her grandfather’s death. She wished she could say she was grateful.
“I seem to have warring duties, ma’am. My father sends his regards. You know he has high hopes for your horses.” How many weeks had she longed for him to look her way? Now she dreaded the sensation. His dark eyes seemed to bore right through her and it was all she could do to pay attention to the adults.
“As well the baron might,” said the Luddite woman sitting nearest the admiral. “I am Baroness Channel, Miss Elliot. I don’t believe I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting Baron North’s youngest daughter before.”
Elliot shook the woman’s hand. She was dressed in shell-pink velvet, marrying the best in Post fashion with Luddite sensibilities. Her matching hat had a shimmering half-veil that shielded the woman’s eyes from the sun. Elliot remembered her name from Nicodemus’s letter of introduction. “Nice to meet you.”
At the racetrack, the riders were being announced, and each stepped forward, leading their horses by the reins. Elliot heard her sister’s name called, and then Benedict’s.
“I was so sorry to hear about your recent loss. Chancellor Boatwright was a great man. I used to do lots of business with him, before he shuttered his business and the admiral here approached me about starting his Fleet. I am happy that I could be here to celebrate his life.”
“Thank you,” said Elliot.
Felicia lifted a small set of binoculars to her eyes to observe the horses as they paraded them around the track. Many of the other attendees had similar devices. “Three Innovation horses in this race. I see the Record family has brought Zeus.”
The baroness turned to the admiral. “I remember I was a bit skeptical when you first approached me. A Post, wanting to build a fleet of ships to explore with? But by that time, you had already become quite well known for the horses. They were the first fruits of your exploration, were they not, Nicodemus?”
Felicia laid her hand on top of the admiral’s, and he smiled at her as he said, “Ah, yes. Our first expedition. And what luck we had, didn’t we, dear?”
“The island didn’t have a name,” said Felicia. “I don’t think it was ever inhabited. Just wild horses, everywhere. We brought back a pair to start the breeding program.”
“And the money we made was enough to begin to finance the Fleet,” the admiral finished. “That was so many years ago now. Our late daughter—she was little more than a child at the time.”
Elliot nodded once more to the Innovations and the baroness and, hoping to escape Kai’s steady gaze, she moved toward the cushions where the Groves sat with the Phoenixes. Even if he followed her here, she was sure Olivia would distract him. The girl sat propped up on cushions near her brother and Donovan and Kai didn’t move from his place near Felicia. Elliot supposed they couldn’t spend every waking moment together.
He didn’t stop watching her, either.
“Elliot,” said Donovan. “What a pleasure to see you in our humble tent.” A string-box sat in his lap and he plucked idly at it as he spoke. Olivia wore a dreamy half smile at the sound of the music.
“She’s jumpier than she used to be,” Horatio explained in a low voice. “Too many people, too much noise. She’d been refusing to come at all until Donovan offered to bring an instrument. The music soothes her somehow.”
“Only when Donovan plays,” said Olivia, with a slur in her voice Elliot had never heard before. “He’s so good at it.”
“You’re doing so well,” Elliot managed to tell the younger girl. “It is so good to see you again.” She’d been too hasty, casting aspersions on Kai for visiting Olivia first. The poor girl had been through so much. Who knew if she’d ever really recover? And of course Kai would blame himself—this wouldn’t have happened if he and Donovan weren’t playing on the cliffs.
This wouldn’t have happened if he and Donovan didn’t have abilities no human should possess. Even at the time, Andromeda had tried to stop them, tried to warn them.
Now, Andromeda wouldn’t even look her way. Elliot wanted to groan aloud. What had she done to offend the older girl this time? She sat stiff as a rod on her cushion, her crystalline eyes staring, unfocused, on the blanket before her, her lips pursed into a thin line. A set of binoculars lay forgotten near her feet. Elliot supposed they must be for show, anyway. With her eyes, Andromeda would never need them. Elliot was tempted to ask if the Post girl was all right, but Andromeda would likely only snap at her, as always.
As she exchanged pleasantries with the others, Elliot listened with half an ear to the conversation going on at her back. Baroness Channel was still curious about the Innovation horses.
“But with the horses being so rare and valuable, I have often wondered why you never returned to retrieve more.”
The admiral chuckled. “Can’t flood the market, can we? The Innovation Horse remains our biggest moneymaker, in part because they are so rare.”
Felicia laughed, too. “In truth, Baroness, we did. But something must have gone wrong one winter on the island. The horses were gone. Died out. It’s a mystery.”
Something in her tone rang false to Elliot’s ears. Was it truly a mystery? Had they killed off the other horses to make sure they had the only supply? She cast a glance back at the older guests on their cushions. That didn’t seem like either of the Innovations—to wipe out an island of horses. They were explorers, not destroyers. They were the only explorers, too, so it was unlikely anyone else would go get the horses instead.
“Indeed!” the baroness exclaimed. Beneath the shade of her veil, her mouth formed a perfect O. “How lucky, then, that you were able to preserve the breed.”
“Yes,” said Felicia. “We were very lucky.”
Lucky . . . and convenient. That Felicia with her prodigious medical knowledge could take advantage of such a fortunate find. That Kai and his mechanical training had happened upon sun-carts that only he was capable of readying for buyers.
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