The Continent (The Continent #1)(8)

My mother laughs. “Don’t worry, dear—you’ll have plenty of time to compare.”

Mrs. Shaw, sitting in the seat in front of me, leans over and pokes her head around in the aisle. “I don’t suppose you brought any extras, did you, dear? I saw the one your father framed for you—it’s really quite something.”

“What are you going to do with a map, Mother?” Aaden says from the seat across the aisle. “Write a shopping list on it?” He laughs and turns back to his window.

Mrs. Shaw is affronted. “I have many interests of which you are not aware, Aaden. I quite like maps, even if I never can figure out which way round they’re supposed to go.”

My mother gives her a kind smile. “I’m sure the steward will provide us all with reference material when we set out for a proper tour. Vaela’s charts are a bit complicated for a layperson such as you or I.”

“Your father tells me you’re to work with Mr. Otto Sussenfaal, in the Astor Library,” says Mr. Shaw. “Quite an honor, yes?”

“Very much so, sir,” I say. “A dream come true.”

“May I ask how you came by the apprenticeship?”

“Well…I’ve had special access to the library for years now, on account of my father’s position at the Chancellery.”

“Of course.”

“There’s always been something about maps that has held my fascination—the marriage of artistic expression and scientific data, it’s…well, it’s unlike anything else.”

“She used to draw little maps of the Spire on my linen napkins,” my mother says, and laughs softly. “And atlases of the world at large!”

Mr. Shaw grins. “A true calling then. And this is your ambition? To excel in this field, to make a profession of it?”

“It is all I have ever wanted,” I say. “To enrich the lives of others with maps that can be admired and absorbed. I hope to achieve much with this tour.”

Mr. Shaw leans toward me, his blue eyes sparkling. “I think you will succeed, my dear. I really do.”

“Such approval, Father, toward an academic,” Aaden says. “I wonder how I might win such favor?”

“One must do, son, and not only learn.”

“Oh, Arthur,” Mrs. Shaw says, “he has passed his exams—”

“Now that he’s taken them.”

“—and has been cleared for a professorship at the Academy—the one in Astor, with all the great steeples and swirling platforms.” She nods, the tiny silver chimes in her hat jangling like little bells. “It’s very exciting, Arthur. Don’t be such a stick in the mud.”

The steward emerges from the cockpit, smiling broadly. “Hello, hello! Quite spectacular, isn’t it? Well! From this point, it’s just a quick flight to Ivanel, but before we turn away from the Continent and head for the island, the pilot will be taking us down to touring altitude for about ten minutes so that you may all have a closer look. It’ll be just a quick peek, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy the opportunity to see the landscape up close.”

“Should we wake Father?” I say, and my mother shakes her head.

“Let him sleep—he was up so early with the porters, double-checking everything and marking off lists. I’ve never seen a man with so many lists. In any case, he won’t mind waiting until tomorrow, and he could use the rest.”

To the astonishment of his wife, Mr. Shaw gets up and moves across the aisle to the empty window seat in the front row.

“Arthur Shaw, remove yourself from that seat and come back here at once,” she says. “I didn’t agree to come along on this expedition so I could sit by myself like some kind of spinster.”

He doesn’t budge, but crosses his arms and lifts his chin ever so slightly. “And I didn’t pay a year’s salary so that I could peek around that massive hat of yours at a place I’ve been longing to see since I was but knee-high. No, thank you, madam, I’ll keep my seat.”

Her mouth falls open, but my mother is quick to ease the tension. “I’d be happy to sit with you, Mrs. Shaw. Frankly, the motion of the heli-plane has made me a bit dizzy, and I’m not exactly keen on looking out the window just now.”

The steward gives her a sympathetic smile. “Not to worry, Mrs. Sun, you’ll get used to the movement. A day or two in the air and your constitution will be firm as a sailor’s at sea.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” she says. Now that I take a moment to look at her, she does seem a bit white-faced.

“Come right up here with me,” Mrs. Shaw says. “I’ll run a commentary on all the sights. You can sit back with your eyes closed, but you shan’t miss a thing.”

My mother, pale as she looks, stifles a laugh. “That’s very good of you, Mrs. Shaw.” She gives my hand a pat and moves to the forward seat.

The heli-plane begins to descend and I feel a pressure in my ears. I look out the porthole again and watch as the scenery appears to grow larger; we’re flying above a wide, flat valley that has very little vegetation. I’m wondering if it’s any place of significance when Aaden gives a large whoop.

“Oh-ho-ho!” he says. “It looks like our pilot knows how to deliver; there are natives down there!”