Iron Seas 03 - Riveted

from the decks seemed that much louder—the wind whistling through the lines, every voice a shout, the canvas flapping with sharp snaps. Overwhelmed, Annika covered her ears with mittened hands,focused on the town ahead. Built up on the flats that surrounded a natural harbor, the settlement had once been a trading port until the island had been abandoned. Afterward, only a small fishing community remained.
    It wasn’t so small now. Since Phatéon had last come this way four months ago, the number of houses and buildings had doubled—the majority of them concentrated near the lake a mile from the harbor. Unease curled through Annika’s stomach. Were so many people coming already?
    She stiffened as someone joined her at the rail. No, not someone —without looking, she knew who he was. For a week, she’d avoided David Kentewess, but even as she’d ignored him, she’d been aware of him. Every time she’d turned her face away, every time she’d left a room, every passageway she’d walked—she’d known when he was near.
    He was here now. She stood frozen, palms over her ears. Walking away would be best. It would be. But he’d be leaving the ship tomorrow; the danger was almost past. Heart pounding, she lowered her hands and clenched her mittened fingers on the edge of the rail.
    If he wanted to talk, she would listen. Oh, but she wanted to listen. She’d liked his voice so well, the deep warmth of it, the duh dum rhythm of his speech.
    A gust hit the airship, rocking the deck. David gripped the gunwale, his gloved hand next to her left, his steel hand bare. As the ship settled, he said, “Komlan tells us that Fiore has brought in almost five hundred laborers, not including those in the hold.”
    Five hundred? She’d known that Phatéon carried fifty men in her cargo hold, but five hundred others had already arrived? That awful sense of inevitability weighed on her chest again. How long before they moved outward and north? “It was just a fishing community a few years ago. Some sheep farmers. Why is he bringing in so many men?”
    “To build a locomotive railway from Smoke Cove to Höfn.”
    That route followed the southern rim of the island—and would take them away from Hannasvik. Knowing that didn’t ease her worry. Despite Smoke Cove’s sudden growth, the population didn’t compare to any of the New World towns, and couldn’t justify the expense of a locomotive. “Why is he building one?”
    “According to Komlan, they’ll mine sulphur to supply the spark lighter manufactories.”
    “And the locomotive will provide transport from the mines to the ports?”
    “Yes.”
    That meant miners—and that likely meant families would be moving in, and the merchants and farmers to support them. Perhaps they’d all stay south for a while. Hannasvik might have a few more years yet. But not long.
    Annika expected David to say something similar, to use it as an argument. Why not tell him of her people’s location when exposure was so certain? Closing her eyes, she waited. She didn’t want to fight him now. She didn’t want to run from him again.
    “Annika.”
    Low and solemn, he spoke her name. Compelled, Annika looked up. He didn’t wear goggles, and the darkness beneath his eyes and the grooves at the sides of his mouth made him appear tense and worn, as if he’d been the one run ragged by a week of four-hour shifts followed by four hours of tossing in his bunk.
    Except for the way he looked at her. There was no weariness in his gaze, only intense gravity, pure focus.
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have threatened you or your people. I’d never have carried it out. It was said in frustration, and I’ve regretted it from that moment.”
    Recalling his horror when she’d thrown his mother’s words back at him, Annika believed him. “Thank you.”
    He nodded, holding her gaze. “I won’t ask again. I understandthat you have your reasons to protect them, and no reason to trust me. But I hope…I hope for another chance.”
    Annika wanted to give him one. But her secret would stand between them, and revealing it would never be her decision to make. “A friendship created on the hope that I might eventually tell you wouldn’t be much of a friendship.”
    “There’d be no conditions.” He lowered his head slightly, seemed to erase the distance between them. “Would I like to know? Yes, of course. But that isn’t why I ask. We did get along well. I’d like to try