Free A Daughter of No Nation by A. M. Dellamonica Page B

girl who charmed her,” he snapped at a would-be customer. “Won’t lay.”
    â€œIt’s the eggs that are important in the inscription?” Sophie asked.
    Verena nodded. “It’s said that only half of their young survive in the wild. Supposedly there are gifted … I dunno, call them bird whisperers, who can convince them to give up some eggs in exchange for having the rest hatched in a nice warm coop with lots of food.”
    â€œCooperative relationship, with the perk of a higher survival rate,” Sophie said. “What do the eggs do?”
    â€œSnow vulture eggs enable a human to fly,” Verena said. “Not gliding, like the taxikites. They’re actually winged, like angels.”
    â€œ That I have to see.”
    â€œGood luck if the bird’s not laying.”
    â€œIf it’s pals with Corsetta, she might turn up here.”
    Verena circled in place, scrutinizing the vendors, the stalls, the customers. “Yeah. They’re watching for her.”
    Sophie wondered if that was a good thing.
    â€œDammit, you’ve got me telling you things again,” Verena said.
    â€œSo? Your official job is to go back and forth and carry stuff to Erstwhile. If there are people who move between worlds, why can’t I be one of them?”
    â€œYou want a visa now?” Verena said. “It’s not me you have to convince.”
    â€œCorrect me if I’m wrong, but if I go hitching my star to Cly’s family wagon, I’m going to have all kinds of chances to apply for travel visas.”
    â€œYou want to stay on Annela’s good side, threatening to play the Judiciary off the Watch is not the way to go.”
    â€œI’m not trying to pick fights with anyone, Verena. I just want a chance to see—”
    â€œSee, explore, study, record—”
    â€œâ€”understand!”
    â€œAnd then what? Publish? And what about your parents? Are you really going to spend your life here chasing every shiny science thing you see without ever telling them?”
    Sophie groaned. “I don’t know.”
    They paused in front of a small array of lumpy nuggets and toys for pets—Verena bought some treats for Nightjar ’s ferret, along with a small sealed pot full of crickets for its snake-head tail—and lingered over a stall of felt and fabric hats, many of them inscribed, either on brim or band, with neatly stitched or painted lettering in the magical alphabet, spellscrip.
    Magic on Stormwrack was all written—you took eye of newt or other ingredients, along with someone’s full name, and wrote up what the locals called an intention. It could do anything from straightening your teeth to killing you on the spot. Most people kept their middle names hidden from all but a few trusted family members or friends.
    Sophie hadn’t known this when she came to Stormwrack six months ago, and by the time she figured it out, the pirates had gotten hold of her name.
    The sisters continued past the mages and down to a deck market that was all weapons—swords and knives, maces, cudgels and whips and bows.
    â€œSee anything you like?” Verena meant the swords, but Sophie’s eye had wandered further, to a stall filled with stonewood daggers. She saw a familiar blond head within the crowd.
    What are the chances? she thought. A stir of feelings, some good, some anxious, assailed her. Did she want to see him? Was it a good idea?
    â€œSophie?”
    She turned, trying to urge Verena back to the stairway. “I’m not going to learn to use a sword, Verena. I’d be a hazard.”
    â€œFights happen.”
    â€œMaybe I’ll get one of those telescoping cop batons,” she said. She didn’t mention the little canister of bear spray on her key ring. Verena had missed it in her search.
    â€œThat would be smarter.”
    Sophie had circled so her back was to the blond head, but her jeans had, once again,