Leviathan Read Online Free PDF Page A

edge crept forward steadily, blackening the northern suburbs with rain.

Deryn felt the hairs on her arms tingling.

She dropped her gaze to the Scrubs, wondering if the tiny airmen down there could see the storm front too, and would start to reel her in. But the proving ground still glowed with light from the rising sun. From down there they would see only clear skies above, as cheery as a picnic.

Deryn waved a hand. Could they even see her well enough? But of course they’d only think she was larking about.

“Bum-rag!” she swore, and glared at the roll of yellow cloth tied to her wrist. A real ascender scout would have semaphore flags, or at least a message lizard that could scamper down the line. But all they’d given her was a panic signal.

And Deryn Sharp was not panicking!

At least, she didn’t think she was… .

She stared at the blackness in the sky, wondering if it were only a last bit of night the sunrise hadn’t chased away. What if she had no air sense at all, and the height had gone to her head?

Deryn closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and counted to ten.

When she opened them again, the clouds were still there—closer.

The Huxley trembled again, and Deryn smelled lightning in the air. The approaching squall was definitely real. The aerology manual had been right after all: Red sky in morning, sailors take warning.

She stared again at the yellow cloth. If the officers below saw it unfurl, they’d think she was panicking. Then she’d have to explain that it hadn’t been terror, just a coolheaded observation that rough weather was coming. Maybe they’d commend her for making the right decision.

But what if the squall changed course? Or faded to a drizzle before it arrived at the Scrubs?

Deryn clenched her teeth, wondering how long she’d been up here. Weren’t ten minutes almost up? Or had her sense of time gone crook in the vast, cold sky?

Her eyes darted back and forth between the rolled-up yellow cloth and the approaching storm, wondering what a boy would do.

FIVE

    When Prince Aleksandar awoke, his tongue was coated with sickly sweetness. The awful taste overpowered his other senses; he couldn’t see or hear or even think, as if his brain were drenched in sugary brine.

Gradually his head cleared—he smelled kerosene and heard tree branches thrashing past outside. The world rocked dizzily around him, hard-edged and metallic.

Then Alek began to remember: the midnight piloting lesson, his teachers turning on him, and finally the sweet-smelling chemical that had knocked him out. He was still in the Stormwalker, still moving away from home. All of it had really happened… . He’d been kidnapped.

At least he was still alive. Maybe they planned to ransom him. Humiliating, he supposed, but better than dying.

His kidnappers evidently didn’t think Alek was much of a threat. They hadn’t tied him up. Someone had even thought to put a blanket between him and the rocking metal floor.

He opened his eyes and saw shifting patches of light, a grid of swaying shadows cast by a ventilation grill. Neat racks of explosive shells lined the walls, and the hiss of pneumatics was louder than ever. He was in the belly of the Stormwalker—the gunners’ station.

“Your Highness?” came a nervous voice.

Alek pulled himself up from the blanket, squinting through the darkness. One of the crewmen sat bolt upright against a rack of shells, wide-eyed and at attention. Traitor or not, the man probably had never been alone with a prince before. He didn’t look much older than twenty.

“Where are we?” Alek said, trying to use the steely tone of command his father had taught him.

“I … suppose I don’t know exactly, Your Highness.”

Alek frowned, but the man had a point. There wasn’t much to see down here except through the gun sight of the 57-millimeter cannon. “Where are we headed, then?”

The crewman swallowed, then reached a hand up toward the communicating hatch. “I’ll get