At least six hundred people, the biggest crowd we’ve ever had, watch us from all angles, drawn by our enthusiastic merrymakers. I break into a sweat. My stomach feels like a troop of mini acrobats is rehearsing inside. I breathe in the salty air and try to relax into the present.

The sight of a familiar lean and muscled figure discreetly standing by a ventilation shaft places a strangely solid hand on my back. I touch my hair, which, thanks to him, lies as smooth as duck feathers.

Finally, the moment we’ve been dreaming of since we were kids has arrived. Sure, there are no gunslingers, and half our act has gotten lost in a steamer along the way. But as long as Jamie is still in my orbit, I can’t help hoping my gravitational force will eventually bring him around.

Jamie raises an eyebrow at me, as if he senses my thoughts even from across the docking bridge.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” cries Ming Lai, who will be very hoarse after this, “please to introduce to you Virtue and Valor, the Flying Twins of London!”

A polite applause rolls out, and Jamie and I wave.

Mr. Stewart holds up a hand, while beside him, the captain studies us with his piercing blue eyes. Mr. Ismay greets two women who have joined them—April Hart and her mother, holding her daughter’s arm.

April’s gaze slides toward Charlotte, and she coughs out a small laugh. She gives me an approving nod.

“Please keep voices down. On with show!” Ming Lai cries.

Clouds cover the sun like hands over a face, as if the sun isn’t brave enough to watch.

Time to give them something they’ve never seen before. We shall strike our feet upon the wire, and light a fire in the sky.

I look at my brother and blow a dandelion puff of air. He blows back. We are ready.

26

Jamie, who will start us out, fills his lungs with a breath, then expels it. The ship cruises at a moderate pace, which feels as steady as a skate across ice—a few bumps here and there, but nothing to throw one off course. Today seems especially calm.

If you aren’t walking on a rail.

A zing of nerves for Jamie shoots through my belly. Most people believe that we can captain only our own ship, but I’ve always believed I could influence him from afar, just like the times I would call him with my mind and he’d turn my way.

He climbs onto the one-inch-thick rail. A hush falls over the decks. With his feet spaced perfectly, he balances, averting his gaze from the twenty-foot drop to the poop deck.