Brightly Burning(26)

Xiao hesitated. “I suppose that could work.” She did not sound entirely convinced. “There’re only so many places she could be, at least.”

With that vote of confidence, she sent me off with instructions to search the lower deck, new territory for me. A thrill ran down my spine as I stepped into an elevator and pressed the button for the lower level. The doors opened to near darkness. I stepped out into a hallway, blinking until my eyes adjusted to the dim. A chill skittered across my shoulders. It was colder down here as well.

Xiao had said to check the old crew quarters, instructing me to head down and left, so left I went. A draft pushed against my back, a hollow whirring sound accompanying it; I hurried my pace so I could find Jessa quickly and get back up to the light and warmth. I kept my eyes focused on my feet, ignored the eerie sound in favor of the click of my heels on metal flooring.

“Jessa?” I called out to a sea of closed doors on my left. Nothing.

Then, under my boot, I caught a slick of black and nearly slipped. When I leaned closer and touched tentative fingertips to the liquid, I saw its true color: red. The metallic tang that hit my nose completed the equation. It was blood.

“Jessa!” I called out again, this time more urgently. I walked faster, doing my best not to step in any more blood, and trying to shake away all the worst-case scenarios as they popped into my head. I came to a dead stop. There was something on the floor. I squinted down at it. It was a rat.

“Bad kitty!”

I nearly jumped out of my skin, the voice, singsongy yet cold, seeming to come out of nowhere. But then the woman it belonged to slunk out of the shadows, as did the cat she’d been scolding. She was petite but muscular, dressed in a stark white lab coat, and looked to be in her midtwenties. The cat I assumed to be Luna’s sister, Jupiter, trotted over to me, licking her chops and seeming to smile at the dead rat.

“You must be the new governess,” the woman said, eyeing me up and down, her summary judgment reduced to the single quirk of an eyebrow.

I swallowed hard and willed my voice not to wobble. “You must be Officer Hanada.”

“My reputation precedes me.” She scooped up the rat carcass with her bare hands, its fur white, a bright blue number 119 branded on its side. The same blue coloring the tips of Hanada’s coal-black hair.

She caught me looking at the number. “I like to keep track of my pets. They can be difficult to tell apart.”

“You keep rats as pets?”

“The cats don’t like me,” she said. “The rats are less picky.”

I couldn’t tell whether she was joking.

“What brings you down here? Governesses don’t belong below decks.”

“I’m looking for Jessa. Xiao sent me.”

“I thought I heard some high-pitched shrieking. Try the old crew quarters. Keep going down the hall. You can’t miss it.” She deposited the dead rat into a plastic bag with a cool smile. “Better find her quick. Don’t want to lose your charge in only week two.”

“Are you keeping track of how long I’ve been here?” Another chill ran across my back, this one not strictly because of the temperature.

She shrugged. “Just a little game I play. You’re already ahead. The record for shortest stay is twenty-four hours.”

“And the longest?” I found myself asking, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.

“Two years. -Ish. Don’t worry, I’m taking the long odds on you.”

“What do you mean?”

“The crew always takes bets on how long you guys will last. I’ve got you pegged at a year at least. But having met you, perhaps you’ll break the record.”

She turned and sauntered down a hallway to our right that I hadn’t seen before. The dead rat had distracted me. I stepped with care over the bloody patch on the ground and continued on my way until the hallway widened. A communal bathroom on the right, disused but door wide open, signaled that I’d found the old crew quarters. There was light spilling out from a nook at the very end of the corridor, and I could hear Jessa shouting.

“I’ve got a bogey on my left! Ready the missiles!”

“Um, Jessa?” I caught her kneeling on top of a round table in an old mess hall, pointing at an imaginary sky.

She was embarrassed for approximately ten seconds, then ordered me to join her. Captain Jessa needed a crew. First, I called Xiao on comms to let her know I’d found my charge. Talking to her, I couldn’t help but wonder—?what odds had she taken on how long I would stay? And why had all the previous governesses left?

Maybe because they were no good at combat jargon. I found myself thoroughly schooled by Jessa, who cut no corners on authenticity in make-believe play.

“No, Stella! When I give you an order, you say ‘Roger wilco,’” she scolded when I missed a beat.

“Still an absolute taskmaster, I see.” Hugo appeared in the entranceway with arms crossed over a crisp waistcoat and a glance in my direction that made my cheeks burn. I scooted off the table, smoothing my skirt and checking my hair. Surreptitiously I applied some saliva to the curls that had sprung lose as I’d loaded a missile chute.

“Don’t be mean, Hugo.” Jessa stuck out her tongue at him. “But I’m glad you found us. You can take over as First Officer. Sorry, Stella.”