Take Back the Skies by Lucy Saxon Page B

as to avoid causing riots – but she’d anticipated plenty of sharply dressed government men keeping an eye on goods distribution, and soldiers in their bright purple uniforms to keep the peace as people of all nations mingled. She couldn’t even see a single low-ranked Anglyan officer.
    Cat kept her eyes fixed on the shock of red hair that stood out among the crowds of people with either dark or incredibly fair features. In Anglya, most people had brown hair, blue or brown eyes, and very pale skin. There were some variations – such as red or blonde hair, and green or grey eyes – but they were few and far between. Here, there seemed to be just as many fair-haired people as there were dark-haired. Maybe if Fox ever got out of the sulk he was in, he would explain it to her.
    She eventually managed to reach his side, jogging to keep up, a scowl on her face.
    â€˜Slow down, would you? I’ve never been to this city before – if your hair weren’t so distinctive, I’d already be lost by now,’ she snapped.
    At the reminder that he was meant to be looking afterCat, Fox slowed, glancing to the side with the faintest of apologetic looks.
    â€˜Sorry, I forgot,’ he said grudgingly.
    Cat didn’t know whether that was ‘I forgot you were following me’ or ‘I forgot you were new to this’, or even ‘I forgot I had to keep you safe’.
    â€˜Well, don’t, in future,’ she muttered, grabbing on to a loose buckle strap at the waist of his coat. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she grinned impishly. ‘Just making sure you don’t run off again. Now I can actually pay attention to street names and find my way back to the shipyard. It’s not like I can ask for directions – I don’t speak a word of Siberene.’
    â€˜
Casechz da stromseil jyetta,
’ Fox said, the words harsh and guttural.
    Cat stared at him blankly.
    â€˜Excuse you?’ she replied. He half smiled, turning down a narrow street with squat slate houses on either side.
    â€˜
Casechz da stromseil jyetta
. That means “where is the skyship port” in Siberene. Of course, you probably won’t be able to understand the response, but … maybe if you let them know you’re Anglyan, they’ll draw you a map or something.’ He shrugged, hands in his pockets. ‘Better than nothing.’
    â€˜You speak Siberene?’ Somehow Fox didn’t seem like the type of person to learn foreign languages. She would have expected it from Ben maybe, or even Harry, but not Fox.
    â€˜A little. I speak enough of most languages to get by in their country of origin. Merican is easiest because their language is basically Anglyan. I have a fair grasp on Erovanand Siberene, and I can say “where are the pretty women?” and “could I have an ale?” in Dalivian. The man who taught me insisted that should I ever visit again, those would be the only phrases I’d need to know,’ he explained, making her giggle.
    â€˜Impressive,’ she conceded. ‘Maybe you could teach me a little?’
    Fox’s eyes were unreadable behind his tinted goggles.
    â€˜Maybe. If you don’t get left behind today. Which you will do if you don’t remember the name of this street. It’s the main connector between the central courtyard and the district where the shipyard is.’ He removed a gloved hand from his pocket to point to an engraved sign hanging from a tall metal post at the end of the road. It read
Stratzephyn
, and she wondered aloud what it meant.
    â€˜Literally, it means “marriage street”,’ Fox explained, ‘because it marries the business district with the housing district. The river separates them, and this street is part of the bridge.’ Fox gestured up ahead as the street seemed to rise. As they drew closer, Cat realised there was indeed a bridge, and she looked over the steel railings to see a