Read The Wandering (The Lux Guardians, #2) for Free Online Page B

fix my attention on Timofei
as he informs us about the long voyage ahead, detailing everything
from the route to the layout of the ship. Most of what he tells us
is surplus to requirements. I don’t care how many boiler rooms
there are.
    I tune him out,
focusing instead on Honour. His short hair is stuck up in all
directions, sweat rolling down the curve of his nose despite the
coldness of being so close to sea. He doesn’t look well but that’s
what sleeping hunched over a table will do for you. He catches me
watching him and tilts his head inquiringly.
    “Ever been on a ship
before?” I ask.
    Honour scrubs a hand
through his hair, mussing it even more. “No.”
    “Not looking forward
to it?”
    “How is it safe?
Shouldn’t it like … fall over? Or sink? I don’t understand. It’s
just a bit of metal.”
    “A bloody big bit of
metal.”
    He looks at me
sharply, a spark of true apprehension in his eyes.
    “It won’t sink, I
promise you. And it won’t fall over either. Ships are made to be on
the sea.”
    “Right.” He scratches
the back of his neck. “Sure. Of course. I still don’t
understand.”
    “Do you trust my
word?”
    He meets my eyes,
searching. “Mostly.”
    “Then I give you my
word—the ship is perfectly safe.” I don’t voice my concerns about
the crew; I hardly think Honour needs more fuel for his fright.
    Timofei and another
Guardian leader whose name I don’t know gesture for us to board the
ship and the fledgling smile drains from Honour’s face. “I’ve
changed my mind,” he says. “I don’t trust you at all.”
    “Come on.” I take hold
of his elbow. “We can get on this thing together. Horatia can take
your other side and you’ll be safe in the middle.”
    As we step onto the
walkway, Honour’s body tenses, his shoulders locking. It’s slow
going but eventually we make it onto the ship. Honour’s breath
escapes him all at once when we’re herded down a corridor and into
a wide ballroom. There are windows framing one side of the room
through which the sea can be spotted, but with Honour’s back to
that wall I suppose it could look like an ordinary room. He
calms.
    “Thanks,” he says,
shaking his head. “I don’t know why I freaked out like that.”
    “It’s no problem.”
    He apologises to his
sister, dipping his voice so their conversation is private as
Timofei calls the room to quiet. Everyone is on board the ship now,
even spiteful James, and we’re free to move into our rooms or stay
to help tidy the ‘common rooms’ to a liveable state.
    There are only twenty
bedrooms so each chamber must be shared between three or four
people. That in itself is problematic. I assume Yosiah, Miya, and
her siblings will share a room and Honour and his sister will share
another with Dalmar and Hele, which leaves me in a room with
strangers.
    Honour looks like a
wounded animal as he explains to me that there are only four beds
in his bedroom and none of those are free for me to sleep in.
Yosiah offers his bed to me, insisting he doesn’t mind sleeping on
the floor, but I can’t take a bed from someone and keep a clear
conscience.
    So when everyone
branches off, I leave my jacket and satchel in the room next to
Honour’s and hope that will let people know that I’ve claimed a
bed. I slip The Cure into the pocket of my trousers because I
promised myself I would never part from it, and then I close the
metal door behind me, following the cold, grey corridor toward the
noise of many voices. It feels strange to be alone, despite always
being independent at home. I’ve been cocooned in friendship these
past few weeks, I suppose. It’s changed me a little.
    The boat gives a
gentle lurch and my hands automatically reach for the walls for
stability, but it readies itself before a major disaster can
happen. I suppose that means we’ve left Harwich, the port
surrendered us to the greater mouth of the ocean. The sight of
bustling Guardians in varying shades of grey that were