He turned and found Temeraire grown more wakeful, and regarding him with an anxiety as great as that of his fellow-officers. Laurence meant to summon up a more cheerful expression, but Temeraire said abruptly, before he could put on a better face, “Laurence, shall we not go up together? I suppose that fellow Pettiforth knows what he is about,” this said with as much doubt as Laurence felt, “but there is nothing which could be distressing about flying; and we needn’t talk about the past at all. We might practice some more of those maneuvers Churki has taught me, that the Inca squadrons use: we might try some which I do not know very well, and work out our own counters for them, together.”
Laurence surprised himself by finding this offer, though from so unexpected a quarter, intensely appealing; Gerry went running for his harness, which Laurence found himself able to sling on as easily as an old favorite coat, and Temeraire put him up to his neck. The carabiner clasps were comfortable in his hands. Laurence harnessed himself to the heavy and well-secured chain of the breastplate Temeraire wore, and felt the enormous leap that took them off the deck like a springing away from care: wind tearing by and the curving vastness of the world opening wide beneath them, even the massive Potentate diminishing into toy-like insignificance as Temeraire circled higher; they seemed almost level with the enormous cloud-banks that broke up the sky a little way north.
Laurence drew a deep breath of the thin cold air, gladly, and Temeraire turned his head at the end of his long neck, looking back at him, and called, “Is this not splendid, Laurence? Shall we try a first pass?”
“I am ready whenever you should care to make the attempt,” Laurence answered him, and held on with real delight as Temeraire flung himself into a spiraling course.
He was all the happier to find that he could offer some thoughts—tentative, but he hoped not foolish—on the subject of the maneuvers: several points at which Temeraire’s head had been concealed from him, by the contortions of his body, which he thought might open a dragon to being taken by surprise with an attack aimed at the vulnerable back. Temeraire agreed with his conclusions, and after some further exercise, they settled it they should ask Churki to practice, on the morrow—“If Hammond can spare me,” Laurence was forced to add.
“We might invite him to come aloft also,” Temeraire said, a notion which Laurence privately could not very much imagine that gentleman appreciating: Hammond spoke rather dismally of Churki, whose affections had evidently been bestowed upon a very unwilling subject, and he was regularly to be found chewing enormous wads of coca leaves, which he evidently considered a sovereign remedy for sea-sickness, even when the swell was not above ten feet.
“I will have a word with Churki on the subject,” Temeraire continued. “I am sure it cannot be healthy for him to be always closeted inside that stuffy ship, any more than for you: there is a much better color in your face now. And perhaps you will stay on deck with me to-night, Laurence? I have heard the ship’s officers saying the hands would be turned up to sing, and a couple of the fellows exchanged books with Wampanoag’s officers, which they might be asked to lend us: I believe Immortalis’s Lieutenant Totenham has a new novel called Zastrozzi, which he has already finished, and pronounced remarkably good.”
“By all means,” Laurence said, and though he found the novel, a dreadful gothic with an appalling villain, wholly distasteful, he was more than content with his company: if Temeraire had no great quarrel with the novel’s moral turpitude, which he seemed to find less shocking than peculiar, he roundly condemned its construction and what seemed to be several omitted chapters, so they had the pleasure of disliking it together, for their several reasons; and Temeraire did not treat him as an invalid, and shut his mouth on every other word. By the time they had finished out the novel, Laurence stealing an hour here and there from his studies as he might, he found he preferred Temeraire’s society above anyone else’s, dragon or no.
“I am glad to have had something quite new,” Temeraire said, “even if it was not really satisfactory,” when they went aloft for exercise again: a morning flight had already become their settled routine, “and now we are sure to have something better to read soon: I think those are the Changshan Islands, over there.”
Laurence put his glass up to his eye and looked out along the line of Temeraire’s gaze: a scattered archipelago of green and white islands, dotting the sea. Two days to Tien-sing harbor, if the wind stayed fair.