'Aye, the smallest possible target,' Deryn sighed. 'That way, your chest presents the smallest possible target.' 'Always keep sideways to your opponent,' he said, gently turning her. If Alek moved his hands any higher, he might notice what was hidden beneath her careful tailoring. He grasped her waist, sending a crackle across her skin. She hadn't realized this fencing business would be so touchy. 'So you can push off when you attack.'Īlek was right behind her now, his body pressing close as he adjusted her sword arm. 'More weight on your back foot,' he said, nudging her boots farther apart.

He lowered his saber and came closer, adjusting Deryn's limbs as if she were a dummy in a shop window. 'But I don't look like one, because my stance isn't dreadful.' 'Well, you do too, then! Whatever they call ninnies in Clanker-talk.' 'Do I look like a ninny?' she asked Alek. Maybe it was daft that the officers still thought of Alek and his men as enemies, but at least it gave Deryn an excuse to spend time with him. Surely a secret mission from the captain himself outweighed her normal duties.

Only two days before, Captain Hobbes had ordered her to keep an eye on Alek, to learn what she could. Two German ironclad warships were rumored to be skulking nearby, and Deryn was meant to be watching for signals from Midshipman Newkirk, who was dangling from a Huxley ascender two thousand feet above them.īut she wasn't really dawdling. Seagulls wheeled overhead, carried by the cool ocean breeze.īest of all, there were no officers up here to remind Deryn that she was on duty. The airship had left the Italian peninsula behind last night, and the flat sea stretched in all directions, the afternoon sun scattering diamonds across its surface. It was a fine day on the Leviathan's topside, at least. She sighed, raised her saber, and tried to imitate Alek's pose. Rigby, the bosun, had forbidden swordplay inside the airship. A dozen crewmen were watching, along with a pair of curious hydrogen sniffers. 'A proper idiot, more like,' Deryn muttered, wishing again that her first lesson were someplace less public.

'If you want to be a proper fencer, yes.' 'Do I have to stand like that?' she asked.

Even with his sword pointed straight at her, he looked barking silly. His fencing armor made him look like a walking quilt. His feet were splayed at right angles, his left arm sticking out behind like the handle of a teacup. Deryn hefted her own weapon, studying Alek's pose.

Behemoth scott westerfeld