The Continent (The Continent #1)(12)

“It’s truly spectacular,” says Mr. Shaw. “In fact, I was just suggesting to my lovely wife that she might prefer to stay at Ivanel for the duration. No sense traipsing through the hangar every day when she has a perfectly adequate view of the scenery.”

“If she does stay, I might consider keeping her company,” my mother says. “I’m not exactly looking forward to another ride in the heli-plane.”

Mrs. Shaw wipes her mouth with a napkin and gives a sour look to her husband. “I already told you, I haven’t flown across a vast ocean to take in the sights of an island no bigger than a field of periwinkles. It’s the Continent I’ve come to see, and see it I shall.”

“I’m only thinking of your delicate sensibilities, darling,” Mr. Shaw says. “You did seem upset by that sight on the bridge, and I simply—”

“My mind is quite made up.”

Mr. Shaw hesitates for a moment, then seems to think better of pursuing the matter any further. He turns to my mother. “Will you be joining us on the flight tomorrow then?”

“If it’s all the same to my husband and daughter, I would prefer to stay here,” she replies.

“Mother, no!” I say. “You can’t! We’ve come all this way, and I just think—”

“We have nine days to tour, Vaela,” she says in a soft voice. “I could use some time to recover myself after today’s flight. You can tell me all about the Continent when you return to Ivanel.”

I want to protest, but in truth, she still looks a bit pale. “All right. Whatever suits you best.”

“I don’t mean to encroach, Miss Sun,” Aaden says to me, “but I overheard the steward making inquiries as to setting up an expedition for you here on Ivanel. Are you quite serious about trekking around in the icy wilderness?”

“I just want to get a feel for the terrain,” I say. “It won’t help me with the maps—not strictly speaking—but I find the landscape to be very inspiring.”

“It all sounds very sensible to me,” Mr. Shaw says. “You want to embrace the science of cartography, you ought to get your feet on the ground.”

“Right,” Aaden says. He puts down his glass and looks at me thoughtfully. “I wonder if I might join you, Vaela? I wouldn’t want to impose, but it sounds like fun.”

“It’s no imposition at all. I’d be delighted to have you along. I’m hoping we can go the day after tomorrow—once we’ve had a proper tour of the Continent.”

“Well,” says Mrs. Shaw, “you two can tromp around in the snow all you like, but don’t come complaining to me when you’re both dead with cold.”

“How might we complain if we’re dead?” Aaden asks, his eyes wide in mock earnestness. I cover a smile with my napkin.

Mrs. Shaw ignores him and turns to her husband. “Have you no opinion about this?”

He shrugs. “At least he’ll be outside.”

We eat for a few minutes in silence, Mrs. Shaw picking up her fork and setting it down again with a clank after every bite. At last, the servers bring in the dessert: delectable-looking pies filled with sweet-scented berries and smothered with warm chocolate sauce.

The steward enters the room as the servers leave. “Have you all enjoyed your first meal at Ivanel?” he asks.

“Everything has been wonderful,” my mother says.

“Surprisingly satisfactory,” adds Mrs. Shaw. “I say, what are these berries? They’re divine!”

“Those are clayberries,” he says. “They’re unique to this region—you can’t find them anywhere in the Spire. I’ve developed quite a taste for them myself.”

“Well, I should like to have them every evening,” says Mrs. Shaw. “You’ll see to it?”

“It will be my pleasure, madam,” he says. “And now, I will bid you good night—I’ll be by at nine a.m. to collect you all for your first real tour. Get plenty of rest—it will be a very exciting day!”





CHAPTER 4





THE HELI-PLANE RUMBLES TO LIFE AND, AFTER A moment, begins to roll steadily down the runway. The steward mentioned icy conditions, so this morning’s takeoff is a bit more frightening than yesterday’s departure. But before I can work myself into a state of nerves, the plane lifts from the ground and rises above the island.

Mr. and Mrs. Shaw have taken the two front windows, respectively. I’m once again sitting in the middle row on the left side, and Aaden is seated across the aisle from me. My father is sitting by himself in the seat directly behind me. He was very gracious to my mother this morning and assured her that we’d be fine flying alone; her response was to plant a kiss on his cheek and promise that she will take at least one more tour before the holiday is through.

As the plane glides over the sea, the steward makes a quick announcement: today, we’ll be touring the west, followed by the northeast region of the Continent—specifically, we’ll be observing an area where the Aven’ei and the Topi are often in dispute, a place that has seen some exciting skirmishes. Mr. Shaw and my father immediately strike up a robust discussion of territories, war, and other such things, while Mrs. Shaw contents herself with sighing and clucking and otherwise affecting a generally bored disposition. Aaden is quiet, looking out the window at the icy waves below, and I busy myself with organizing my notepads and pencils.