Magonia(38)

She could be my age, I think, or near it.
“Nice scrubbing,” says the blue jay, and grins. She looks at me for a moment in a way that might be friendly.
I’m shocked to discover a smile spreading across my face. I’ve had plenty of attention since finding myself here, but no one’s been actually friendly.

Do I want a friend? I’ve only ever had Jason.
I look around for Dai, but he’s wandered off, nowhere to be seen. Not surprising. He doesn’t relish fraternizing with those beneath his rank.
“I’m Aza,” I say.
“Thus revealing an impressive grasp of information we both already possess,” she says, and tilts her head.
Is she . . . joking with me?
“I just thought—I want to ask—do you think you might be able to answer some questions for me?”
She shrugs elegantly and her shoulder feathers ruffle. The trim on her uniform is as bright as her plumage.
“Possibly,” she says. “I don’t know how helpful I’ll be. I’m only a sailor.”
“I’m only a skyman,” I tell her, and she laughs.
“An ordinary skyman with more power than all the other officers on this ship combined,” she says, pointing at my insignia. “Captain’s Daughter. Savior of Magonia.”
Savior?
She’s mocking me, clearly.
“It’s Aza,” I insist.
She nods. “I’m Jik. I was born aboard this ship, and I’ve been part of the effort to locate you—ever since I can remember.”
“So I guess, thank you?” I say weakly.
She smiles. “You look ordinary, Aza Ray Quel. It’s hard to believe you’d be capable of so much.”
“What does that mean?” I ask. But Jik turns toward some piece of business and, despite her human form, I see that she has a long, blue-feathered tail. It’s weirdly glamorous—tails on a tuxedo.
I’m entranced.
The Rostrae she’s with don’t correct my scrubbing and washing. The Rostrae seem too busy with their own crew assignments to stop and stare at me.
And soon, it seems they’re sharing a meal.
“Birdseed,” one of them says, looking dismissively at a cake of some kind in his hand.
“We’d be better feeding below, where there IS food,” says Jik. She’s quickly shushed by an older crew member, a robin.
“Do you wish to make trouble? This is our ship, and we are lucky for it. Not all of us have access the way you do. Your place is assured, but what will become of us when she’s through? Have you thought of that?”
The robin glances suspiciously at me and then walks away, leaving me scrubbing.
“What was that?” I ask Jik.
Jik shrugs.
“Magonians can’t go to ground to bring up wheat. They need us to pull the ships, to net their harvest, and to be their help shipboard. I am a part of the Annapenny as much as the rigging and the sail are. And I’m as easily replaced.”
“That can’t be true,” I argue. “You just said you were born aboard.”
She nods. “Yes, and I’ve done every job on this ship—from knotting nets to braiding hair.” She pauses. “Captain’s Daughter, I don’t know if you know this, but you don’t inspire confidence. You’re pretty unskilled.”
She smirks and looks pointedly at a streak of grime I’ve been unable to buff out of the figurehead.
I laugh. It comes out a giant, sarcastic bark. “I don’t know how to do anything . . . except talk. I’m not great, am I?”
“Perhaps.” Jik regards me a moment. “But you’re not the worst.” She nods to where Dai is striding back into view. Then she flies up to the top of the batsail, grabs a rope, and tugs it until the bat’s wing is straightened out.
“What’s this new mission?” I ask Dai when he’s at my side, keeping my voice low.
“We’re hunting,” says Dai casually.
“Something alive?”
“It’s classified. Ordinary skymen don’t have that information,” he says smugly.
Superior show-off. I’d give him an ostentatious eye roll if it wouldn’t turn into a thing. I’ve already had to endure about a million too many of Dai’s lectures on proper protocol and duty.
He observes the streak of dirt Jik pointed out moments ago. With a “tsk” he takes the brush from my hand and swings like some kind of acrobat out onto the figurehead. Securing himself in place with his feet, he makes quick work of the grime while rattling on about technique. A tuck and a backflip, and he’s returned to the deck again. His movement is so fast and sure, I have small struggles about my gaping jaw. No, thou shalt not gape.
I distract myself from his gymnastics routine by scrubbing the figurehead until its every tiny painted pore is clean. All the while, I try to put things here in perspective by thinking of them in terms of my old life.
This boy, Dai, he’s nothing to me. He’s essentially one of the kids from school, tramping down the hallway, not super interesting.
But um, except not really at all. And I can feel Magonia sidling up around the edges of my brain.
I should be grateful, it says. I’m walking around. I can breathe. I’m not the dead girl I was always going to be.
I’m something else. Something important. What? No clue.
It’s different here. Aza, YOU are different here. Better?
But no.
Even if I’m in this place for the rest of my life. Even if I never see my family and Jason again, I can’t forget them. I won’t. Because, what if I forget myself along with them? Who will I be then?