Free Steamscape by D. Dalton Page B

on decks of multi-storied floating hotels. No, these were bound logs that were piled high with crates covered in canvas. There was no roof or shelter. They would sleep between the crates and could only hope to outrun the rain.
    Jing shuffled up beside her, his limp causing the boat to rock. His jaw was clenched.
    “Something wrong?” Solindra prompted.
    “I don’t like being on the water.” He raised his metal leg, then lowered it. The boat rocked ever so slightly as the weight came back down. He forced a smile. “Everything will be sold in southern Eliponesia and Mekani. Even the boat.”
    Solindra raised her eyebrows.
    “Lumber that makes up the boat. Everything goes.”
    “Oh.” She glanced in direction of Ganther, the captain of the rectangle, and his two boys. She didn’t know if they were his sons or just another pair of conscripted orphans.
    She looked back down at the dark waters, but could only make out a few starlight reflections on the mutable surface. “We’ll run aground when the river curves. We can hardly see where we’re going.”
    Jing chuckled. “It’s a risk, certainly. But I don’t think Ganther wanted to stay in Consequences. We’ll probably stop for the night after a few miles.”
    Ganther whistled from out of the darkness somewhere nearby. The form of a man built like a bear waved his arms. “Steam man! You come here and steer this hog for a while.”
    “On my way!” Jing replied. He patted Solindra on the shoulder before limping off.
    After he’d left, the young woman sneaked a look over her shoulder. She set the tips of her boots into one of the edges of a crate underneath its canvas cover and peeked over the top. Eventually, she could make out the murmuring forms of the two boys and Drina off to the side. That other shape had to be Theo on the far end. Jing and Ganther were at the large rear paddle that served as the rudder.
    Soon, the singing of the crickets on the nearby bank overwhelmed the splashes of water against the flatboat. The winds carried fresher-scented air from downriver.
    Solindra slipped off the crate and pulled out a folded paper from her pocket. She’d wrapped the sancta in it, but replaced the item quickly. She pressed the paper against her thigh, trying to smooth out the creases.
    She tilted the poster into the starlight and sighed. The girl knew that she shouldn’t have gone back to steal it, but she couldn’t live with herself with the thought that it might be defaced like the other one.
    She really didn’t know why she’d carefully cut out Steam Princess Adri Saturni’s face from the propaganda poster. Solindra sighed again. How many years had she spent pretending that was her? All those years suspended on a mountain, never knowing anything about the real Codic or the real Steampower. The steam princess couldn’t turn out to be any different than what she had dreamt, not like the others.
    She glared ahead into the darkness. The River Eld pulled at the logs beneath her feet, but she barely even noticed the swaying of the raft anymore. This river that drained half the continent was deep, lonely, and cold.
    She shivered as the craft shifted underneath. The world moved on, and she with it. Solindra wanted to cry. She wanted to clutch the poster to her chest and hold herself.
    Instead, she held out the piece of poster at arm’s length and slowly, achingly uncurled her fingers.
    The paper fluttered off into the darkness. The singing of the crickets and the splashes of the water immediately overcame any papery sounds in the wind.
    Tears started to press against her eyes, but she ignored them and turned her back on the river. She crept to the center of the boat, jaw set. Her fingers slid along the canvas tarps, guiding her more than her sight. She felt a corner.
    Drina’s fist came sailing around it.
    Solindra gasped and bobbed back out of the way. “Drina! What–?”
    The cook swung again. Solindra could hardly see her hand moving! She threw up her arms