Excerpt from The Gracekeepers by Kirsty Logan, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Red Gold carried on a steady stream of exclamations as the three of them followed the gangway up from the port, their leather shoes soft on the wooden slats. The tin-sided towers looked more ramshackle than ever, the waves slapping at their bases. North could not understand why anyone would choose to live there. The crew called the landlockers "clams" for their brain¬less need to cling to the shore. Was the desire to be near land so overwhelming that people would accept these shoddy homes, hoping that over the years they could creep gradually closer to the center of the island? Soil was dirty, and it smelled; North wanted nothing more than to be away from it.

They were past the tower blocks and on to the reclaimed land, where the houses became lower and larger. These houses were not impossible to buy—reclaimed land was cheaper, not worshipped like the real earth. As they walked, North kept one ear to Red Gold's stream of exclamations, while the other listened out for early-rising landlockers. If spotted, she could either make excuses or run. From experience, North knew it was better to run.

Ainsel's attention seemed to be wandering. He kept glancing back at the port, to where the line of circus coracles sat sleeping. His turning affected his stride, losing the rhythm of his steps and making his toes drag. If he didn't keep his eyes down, the unsteady, too-steady path would trip him. And then he'd stumble, and he'd fall, and his bare hands would have to touch—ugh. As much as she didn't want his hands in hers, North would catch him to save him from touching the ground.

Red Gold must have noticed Ainsel's distraction: he picked up the pace, talking faster and louder, and before North knew it their steps changed to the steadier thud of real land. It felt too solid under her feet, and it made her knees judder. The houses here were not much taller than she was, and there were no tower blocks. Rich people wanted to live as low to the old ground as possible.

Past the houses, closer still to the island's center, lay farm¬land. Red Gold glanced over his shoulder as they climbed the stile; it wasn't technically illegal for damplings to walk through the farmland, but if a farmer "accidentally" shot them the punish¬ment would be light. North put her sleeve over her mouth. It stank here: mud and plants and the faint reek of animal shit.

Red Gold paused on top of the stile, spreading his arms to North and Ainsel as if they were his big-top crowd. He spoke in a stage whisper.

"Now listen, my little ones. Be sure and stick to the paths. The last thing I need is to have to bribe you off a prison boat." He stepped down from the stile, landing with a thud and striding off down the path.

"Jarrow, if you don't mind—if I can ask—" she called after him. "Why are we doing this?"

Red Gold winced at her volume, glancing theatrically across the fields to the farmhouse. He mimed something that North could not translate, then turned and carried on walking.

"It's about the wedding," said Ainsel in an undertone.

Everything in North jolted to her throat. "Haven't you spo¬ken to him yet?"

"Not yet." Ainsel fussed with his hair and glanced back at the coracles, although they were lost behind the houses. "Look, I will. But I have to choose the moment properly. I know my father, and I'll know the right time. Just wait."

North wondered what that was like—to know your father. Ainsel was the only one on the Excalibur with a parent still alive. He didn't seem to realize how special it was.

"You have to tell him, Ainsel. If I say I won't marry you, he'll make me leave the Excalibur. But he won't kick out his own son. I just want to stay in the circus with my bear and my—with the crew."

"I don't want to get married any more than you do, North. But if he thinks we're going against him, he'll just dig his heels in further."

Reprinted from The Gracekeepers Copyright © 2015 by Kirsty Logan. To be published by Crown, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, on May 19, 2015.