Arsha trailed behind a little as they walked, listening to the conversation as Penelope chirped happily in her ear.
The day passed in a gentle haze of shops and cafés, as Abasi and Milima caught up on Shani's life at the university, and filled the girls in on what they'd been doing. In the three months since dropping off Arsha and her father at Skytower, Abasi and Milima had been travelling all across the Guildlands and beyond, gathering items that her father had needed from various far flung outposts. It wasn't especially exciting, but after months cooped up in one place, Arsha envied them. She missed the Triskelion, and her cosy little cabin.
As six o'clock rolled around, Abasi and Milima made their way back to the ship to change into something suitable. Shani made her excuses likewise, and Arsha found herself walking alone back to the apartments. She was trying on a matching deep blue salwar and kameez when her father knocked and poked his head in through the door.
“Hey Daddy,” she said, “is this OK for tonight?”
“You look perfect, love,” he said.
She pulled a face.
“You always say that. It doesn't help if you always say it.”
He laughed.
“Listen, I've got one more errand to run. Can you wait down at the department for me? Micah and Ilona will be there already.”
She nodded.
“And you do look perfect. Just like always.”
She felt a tingling in her cheeks, even as she rolled her eyes at him.
“Alright, I'm going,” he said.
After picking out a gold shawl from her wardrobe, Arsha settled Penelope on her shoulder again, and set off down the avenue. At a doorway with a brass plate that read 'Department of Exploration and Archaeology' she knocked politely, and a grey haired porter let her in with a smile.
She made her way through the twisting maze of corridors, finally stepping through a set of double doors that lead into the lab. Long worktables lined the room, nearly every inch of them now covered in neat stacks and rows of equipment. Tools were laid out and labelled by size, stacks of supplies had neat little tags indicating type and quantity, and more still were already being packed away into crates filled with straw. Piles of loose equipment, as yet unsorted, dotted the floor throughout the room.
Ilona sat to one side on a wooden stool, with a notepad resting in her lap. The woman was wearing a black dress with silver trim, cut in the Novarsi style that she preferred. Her pale blonde hair was pulled up into a tight bun, revealing the delicate sharpness of her features, the paleness of her skin standing sharp against the black satin. The woman was staring at her notes intently, and didn't seem to even notice when Arsha entered the room.
Sat between two benches, crossed legged on the floor, Micah was slowly untangling a small mountain of climbing rope. His dark hair was tied back in a pony-tail and his shirt sleeves were rolled up. One braided forelock had been woven with a handful of coloured beads. He turned at the sound of the door, and whistled when he set eyes on her.
“Hey there little bear,” Micah said with a broad grin. “You look exceptionally pretty today.”
She smiled, and propped herself up on one of the benches.
“Dad got you working late?”
Micah shrugged, broad shoulders moving expressively.
“Gotta get done. We're still pitching to set off early tomorrow if we can.”
“You're not going to change?”
“We'll catch up and meet you guys at the restaurant. Or something. Honestly I'm just glad we're finally going to be out there doing something again. I gotta tell you, girl, I am literally losing my mind cooped up here behind all these books.”
“Goodness, it's almost like assisting a Professor of Archaeology involves more than just knowing how to fold a rope. How terrible for you,” Ilona said. Her tone was sharp, but Arsha had seen the two of them argue often enough to expect that. She'd never really quite understood the way Micah and Ilona were with each other, but the fact remained that no amount of bickering and sniping had ever seemed to keep the two from remaining friends. Or, something like friends. She wasn't really sure if she knew exactly what to call it.
Hefting a coil of rope, Micah just shook his head, sadly.
“I swear you and Rishi live behind those books of yours. You're like a fated match, the two of you. When you going to admit it and just tie the knot already?”
Ilona's eyes narrowed, just a little, but the woman said nothing.
“What do you say Arsha?” Micah continued, ruffling her hair as he walked past, “How'd you like to have Ilona for your new mum?”
“Fates, you are such an ass,” Ilona snarled. “Talking about her mother like that...”
“Hey, hey, OK. I'm sorry,” Micah said, throwing up his hands in a gesture of surrender as Ilona scowled at him.
“It's OK. It really doesn’t bother me,” Arsha said. “I mean, I never knew her, so it’s not really like I can miss her or anything.”
She did her best to sound unconcerned, but an uneasy silence still fell over the room. It was always awkward, the way people were so wary of discussing a woman she’d never even met. She supposed it must have been different for people who'd had a mother and a father, but all she’d ever known was growing up with her dad. She’d spent so much of her life aboard the Triskelion that she’d never really been lonely. There had always been Micah to give her piggy-back rides around the deck, or Milima to read her a bed-time story and stroke her hair as she drifted off to sleep. She'd explored every inch of their floating home playing hide and seek with Elim and Shani, crawling through hatchways and hidden nooks until their parents went mad trying to find them. All of the crew had become her family in their own ways.
The silence ticked on. Ilona's eyes were fixed on her notes again, as Micah went back to counting off carabiners. Arsha was still wondering if she should say something when the door swung open and Shani swept in. Arsha found herself momentarily dazed by the sight of the older girl, looking gorgeous in a flowing gown of green and gold, with a brooch at her neck.
“Hey sweetie.” Shani smiled at her. “You look stunning.”
Arsha looked away, feeling her cheeks tingling again.
“Our parents are waiting outside, if you're ready to go,” Shani added. “Oh, hey, Micah, I have got to show you this.”
As Shani danced across to where Micah was sitting, Arsha got up and began to make her way outside. At the entrance to the lobby, she paused. Milima and Abasi were standing alone together in the empty lobby. Milima's face was upturned, Abasi's hand resting lightly on the back of her neck as her husband's lips met hers.
Arsha coughed. Giggling, Milima took a step back, nodding in her direction.
“Hello again, trouble,” Abasi growled, smiling.
Arsha just smirked at him, and stuck her tongue out.
“Your father's outside, love,” Milima said. “Had to take an urgent sending all of a sudden. I don't suppose you know where Shani got to?”
“Showing off one of her new toys to Micah, so, I don't know, they'll probably only be all night,” Arsha replied.
Abasi sighed, and rolled his eyes.
“Why did I ever let that girl near one of those stones in the first place?”
“Oh I don't know dear,” Milima replied, patting his arm, “perhaps because your daughter is doing something she's incredibly passionate about, and can probably make a very successful career out of?”
Abasi just rolled his eyes again. Moments later, Shani glided into the lobby, Micah and Ilona following close behind her. Micah was talking whilst Ilona listened with pursed lips, in what Arsha recognised as their version of an animated conversation.
Shani glanced around the room at everyone.
“So, are we just waiting for the esteemed professor?” she said. Almost on cue, the outside door opened, and Arsha's father walked in.
She sensed the change in him as soon as he stepped through the door. It was in his eyes, in the way he walked, in the way his hands moved at his sides, as if he wasn't entirely sure what to do with them. The others sensed it too, and for a moment no one spoke.
“Rishi, what's wrong?” Abasi said, breaking the silence.
“Nothing's wrong, Abasi, it's just...” He pushed a hand through his hair, seemingly not for the first time. “Something's come up.” He paused. “How quickly can you plot us a new course?”
“Well,” Abasi said, speaking with an almost exaggerated caution, “that depends on where we'd be sailing to.”
“It's...” He paused again, as if unsure how much he could say. “It's beyond the Veil. A city called 'London'. We have to set sail as soon as possible.”
“Rishi, come on now, what's wrong?” Milima stepped forward to lay a hand on his arm. “All these plans we've been making...”
“Yes, I know. I'll explain things to the dean tonight. As best I can, anyway.”
“But why? What in the world could be so important that you need to abandon everything you've been working for this last year? What is this about?”
“Milima, you know I wouldn't ask, not unless it was absolutely necessary.”
“So we just have to trust you?” Milima scowled.
“Can you?”
For a moment, Milima said nothing, her eyes fixed on his. Then she gave a nod.
“I'll have the ship ready by daybreak,” Abasi said.
The argument apparently settled, her father turned to look at Micah and Ilona, both of whom had been watching everything keenly, but without saying a word.
“I'm so sorry about this. I'll have arrangements made for both of you to stay here at Skytower. Or, I can pay for passage if there's somewhere else you'd like to be.”
Ilona's sharp features pulled back into an angry sneer.
“You absolutely must be joking,” she snarled. Her father's eyes creased with sadness.
“I really am so sorry. This situation...”
“Professor, I think what 'Lona's trying to say,” Micah interjected, “is that we really don't give a rat's arse what the situation is. We're not sitting this one out just because the plans have changed. I know how much this expedition meant to you. Whatever this thing is that's come up, it's obviously pretty damn important.”
“You feel the same, I take it?” her father said, looking at Ilona. The woman inclined her head, ever so slightly.
“Well, thank you, both of you,” he said. Micah raised his hands in an easy-going gesture.
“You did promise me we'd get to travel. I've never been past the Veil before.”
Despite his outward calm, Arsha had known Micah long enough to recognise the nervousness in the man's eyes. That same nervousness was lurking behind every face in the room, a tension crackling in the air, as her father excused himself and stalked away, his shoulders hunched over as his coat flapped around his heels. Arsha felt Shani's hand enclosing hers, a gentle, reassuring pressure as the woman smiled at her, a little sadly. Neither of them seemed to have any idea what to say.
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