The Floating Islands by Rachel Neumeier Read Free Book Online Page A

about the glass sphere hidden in the back of her drawer.

3
    A s the kajurai auditions approached, Trei felt, to his surprise, almost at home in Canpra. Not like a true Islander. More as though there was a possibility that someday he might be able to feel that he was. He hadn’t expected this. Nor had he expected Araenè to be responsible for the change. He hadn’t guessed that his cousin would be so … so …  interesting.
    Of course his cousin knew all the respectable places to go in the First and Second Cities—Trei had expected that. “It’s wonderful, Father wanting you to be familiar with Canpra,” Araenè assured him, “or I’d never be permitted to explore like this. How splendid you are, cousin!” Her sarcasm didn’t worry Trei; he understood perfectly well it wasn’t directed at him.
    She’d shown him the white towers of the First City and taught him how to walk on the airy bridges and floating stairways that linked them together. The people of Canpra loved to build between sea and sky. One hot afternoon, they’d bought a terribly expensive lunch from a restaurant on a wide balcony that overhung the waves. Araenè muttered comments about the food and tossed tidbits that displeased her over the railing to the gulls swooping below, but Trei spent the afternoon staring longingly out toward the men who soared above the sea on crimson or golden wings.
    But the day before the kajurai auditions, when she saw Trei was fretting himself into a dither, Araenè finally insisted on taking him into the Third City and showing him the University. His cousin’s boldness made Trei terribly nervous, but Araenè would change her gown and bangles for trousers and shirt and wide bracelets, pin her hair up under a wide-brimmed hat, and become a boy. She made a convincing boy. She even walked like a boy. Almost like a boy.
    “Too feminine?” Araenè sounded skeptical when Trei ventured to suggest alterations to her manner. “Not likely! Mother always says I need to walk more softly and slowly. She says men like a woman to walk gracefully, speak gently, and show neither brains nor temper.”
    The sarcasm in her tone probably wasn’t very correct for an Island girl, either. Trei grinned. But he also tried to explain, “It was something about how you turned. On your toe or something. Too graceful, you know. Maybe Aunt Edona thinks you’re too boyish when you’re a girl, but you still make a girlish boy. Don’t look at me like that! You do!”
    “Huh.” Araenè didn’t seem persuaded. “It’s only because you know, that’s all. Come on! If we hurry, we’ll be right on time for Master Petrei’s lecture. It’s his fifth and last this season, and I’ve only made it to one other.”
    Probably she was right, Trei allowed. He gave up the point and said only, “A lecture? What an adventure!”
    “ You can say that. You’re allowed to attend whatever lectures you like, go where you like, do anything you want to,” Araenè snapped, and turned on her toe—it was a girl’s move, too graceful by half for a boy—but she strode off at a pace that made Trei stretch to match. He didn’t answer her sharp comment, and after a moment his cousin gave him an apologetic glance. “You’re good to escort me.”
    “I don’t mind. I want to. I—are you serious? We climb over this building?”
    “It’s the quickest way. Everybody does it. We can walk around Third City after the lecture, if it doesn’t finish too late,” Araenè offered. “Third City is wonderful—I’ll show you my favorite places.”
    Trei shrugged and nodded. He didn’t much care for what little he’d seen of Canpra’s Third City so far. It seemed dangerous: crowded and disorganized and dirty. But Araenè seemed so … so … she seemed more alive, more expansive, even somehow more herself, dashing through Third City alleys dressed as a boy.
    Later, waiting for the crowd of students to clear out of the lecture hall, he gave Araenè a