She wasn’t sure she was ready to meet someone new. There was already so much “new” battering her senses that she didn’t know if she’d be able to find the words to encapsulate it all. Maybe they won’t mind being quiet.

She spent the next few minutes searching the ship for an extra hammock-chair. And then begging for another extra after Pixit fried the ropes on the first one she found. Mina strung the hammocks up on either side of the rubber area. She tucked the crate with her bag beneath her hammock and left an empty crate for the new passenger. With a borrowed broom, she swept the floor—​Pixit had dropped a few feathers and dribbled bits of half-chewed potato all around. (The sailors had given him a bowl of his favorite food.) She corralled all the debris into a single pile, then called to Pixit. Could you please shed a few sparks over here?

«I don’t know how to direct the electricity—​according to those stories you always read me, that’s what a guardian does. You’re supposed to catch and guide it. I just absorb and store it.»

She had no idea how to do that yet. We don’t need to direct it. You just need to do whatever you did when you set the cornfield on fire.

He sounded embarrassed. «That was an accident. I don’t know how I did it. I can feel the electricity inside me—​it kind of tickles—​but that’s all.»

Just come closer and think of something exciting. Maybe that would set off his sparks. He’d been excited when he flew over the field. Try watching that. Mina pointed to the central clock tower. She’d heard that the city clocks performed every hour on the hour. It was nearly seven o’clock, and the sun was dipping between the buildings. Everything glowed a rosy orange.

The minute hand clicked up to twelve.

Celebrating the hour, lightning-powered fountains exploded into the air. Water splayed into fans, then fell, and then water shot straight up as high as the tops of the tower. Around the river ship, the sailors clapped and hooted and cheered. Mina spun in a circle, trying to see everything.

Reflected on the glassy walls, the water danced and played all around the city. It caught the orange-and-red light of the setting sun, holding its rays in its droplets. When the minute hand clicked again, it ended. Mina looked down at her feet and saw a tiny fire eating the dust, dirt, and potato bits. Thanks, Pixit.

«I liked the sparkly water.»

Me too. Maybe someday we’ll be the ones to catch the lightning that makes it happen. The idea made her shiver—​could she really learn to do that? Fly fearlessly into a storm and help Pixit absorb the electric charge? It sounded so impossible.

But so did waterfalls flowing upward and trains zooming by.