Take Back the Skies by Lucy Saxon

night.
    There was a grubby mirror bolted to her wardrobe door, and she took the chance to get a proper look at herself, astonished by how much of a boy she looked with her hair cut short. It came down to just below her ears – a little longer than the current style, but nothing she hadn’t seen on boys before. Fox was right, though; she definitely looked closer to twelve than fourteen. And she didn’t look like Catherine any more. ‘I look like Cat,’ she murmured, staring at her unfamiliar appearance.
    Slipping under the thick fur blanket, she curled up tight on the comfortable mattress, her brain racing. In just a few short hours she’d gone from Catherine Hunter, daughter of Nathaniel Hunter and future wife of Marcus Gale, to Just Cat, skyship dogsbody.
    She had to admit, she preferred the latter.
    Cat woke when a hand shook her shoulder. She blinked and squinted up at the face looming above her. She squawked as she realised Fox was standing over her bed, staring at her in amusement as she instinctively pulled the blanket up to her chin.
    â€˜Easy, there. It’s half past six. I thought you might want to be up for breakfast. Also, Alice left these outside your room.’ He held up a sack which Cat assumed was full of clothes. ‘You’ll get used to waking in the dark – if you had a proper porthole, you’d be getting sunrise at four in the morning,’ he remarked, glancing up at the small porthole in the wall over her desk, which glowed dimly with the morning light.
    Cat growled at the prospect of such an early hour, making Fox chuckle.
    â€˜I’ll see you at breakfast. Don’t take too long, or Matt will have eaten your serving.’ With that he left, the room becoming silent save for the faint hiss of steam through the pipes in the walls, and the rhythmic chugging of the propellers, prompting her to realise her room was towards the stern of the ship.
    She dug through the sack of clothes. Clearly Fox’s style hadn’t changed much since he was her age; smart collared shirts, waistcoats, trousers, knitted jumpers and buckledleather coats, and even a long winter overcoat and a pair of sturdy knee-high boots similar to the ones he wore now. She grinned to herself, imagining she’d look rather like his miniature once she was dressed, except for her brown hair, of course.
    She picked out some black trousers, which were baggy on her, as well as a dark blue shirt and a black leather waistcoat. Buckling the heavy boots over sock-clad feet, Cat gave herself a once-over in the mirror to check she looked suitably boyish. It was odd, not getting ready for worship at the end of the week. Did the crew even observe Anglyan religion? Maybe she would ask some time, if she grew brave enough. She crossed the corridor to the galley, where the noise drifting from the open door told her she was the last one to arrive.
    â€˜Morning. Did you sleep well?’ Alice asked as she entered. ‘I know some people can’t sleep when the ship rocks, but we had quite a smooth flight last night. We shouldn’t hit the Siberene storm barriers for another few days or so yet.’
    Cat stretched her arms out as she sat, hearing her shoulders pop. Harry was absent, and Cat presumed he was on shift.
    â€˜I slept like a log, thank you. Thanks,’ she added gratefully as a bowl of porridge was placed in front of her. Reaching past Ben for the pot of honey on the table, she poured in a small amount and mixed the golden liquid into the thick porridge. ‘Does it usually take so long to get to the barriers?’
    â€˜Not usually, but we like to take our time. If we work too efficiently, the guards will start getting suspicious. Besides,Harry thought you might like a few days to settle in before we bring you into the business,’ Alice explained. Cat raised her eyebrows, pleased and surprised at their thoughtfulness.
    â€˜Ready for a hard day’s work, sprog?’