The Deepest Night

Chapter 5

Before the war, I had never given a second thought to moonless nights.

But before the war, I’d never been given a reason to.

Now I had one.

For a few terrible nights a month, every month, England went dark. In London and Brighton and towns up and down the coast, windows were papered in black. Streetlights were extinguished. Carriages and automobiles combed the streets without the help of lanterns, and everyone hurried to get home before dusk. Just carrying a rushlight outside to check on the family dog was considered a foolish risk, not only for you but for all your neighbors as well.

Even at Iverson, we kept the oil lamps and chandeliers cold.

Because on the moonless nights, German airships slunk across the Channel. And they had bellies full of bombs.

With my dragon hearing I’d learned to recognize two new sounds since the war began:

Thup-thup-thup-thup.

That was the sound made by the propellers of the airships.

And: shoom-shoom-shoom.

The engines of a U-boat.

I listened for them every night before falling asleep, but, oh, on those damned dark nights when the moon went away, it seemed I was either awake in my bed or else smoke above the Channel, drifting. Waiting.

Even after the stars would whisper reassurances (safe, beast, tonight you’re safe), I kept my vigil. If I stopped paying attention, who would hear Death descending? Armand’s hearing wasn’t as keen as mine, not yet. So there was only me.

Smoke-thing, winged-thing. An injured monster who couldn’t even hold her shape half the time.

But still.

After leaving Tranquility that night, I didn’t return to my room. I floated with the wind out to sea, letting it thin me sheer, hoping it might ease the bittersweet ache that felt as real as anything solid above or below me.

Jesse was still here. Somehow, still here.

A boy in the stars.

Where are you? I wondered, mist beneath their shimmer. I love you, where are you?

safe, beast, was all I got in response. tonight you are safe.