Captain Veringe's house was decorated with expensive textiles and polished wood. Souvenirs from his travels were displayed on the walls and stands, and to Jonathan, the place resembled a museum. He dismissed the dead technology from the past, preserved animals, and plant samples with signs of exotic mutations.

  Paintings and other conventional art were arranged among the exotic items as if to underline the collector’s cultivated taste. These pieces looked like uninvited visitors among the gathered oddities from the end of the world.

  Many of the guests already knew Thomms, and she and Jonathan were introduced around by a stout gentleman with a bushy mustache. He was Mister Monroe, a scientist and a technology enthusiast, and Jonathan classified him as a boring, rich person. Monroe mentioned he had followed Thomms' career with a keen interest and was soon deep in discussion with the woman.

  Jonathan looked around and found a frame filled with familiar symbols. They were matrices, and he held back a laugh when he noticed the piece was a teaching tool that showed common mistakes in matrix connections.

  “An exhilaratingly exotic piece, isn’t it?” a female voice said.

  Jonathan turned to see a richly dressed woman introduced as Miss Leere. She continued. “Captain Veringe is so brave to display such items openly. Have you heard that the Ainadu won’t let them be transported to the south?”

  “So they say, but I can’t understand how the Ainadu could prevent it. We do trade with them regularly.” Jonathan smiled while talking. Matrices were not prevented from spreading; it would have been impossible. Instead, faulty and fake matrices were produced intentionally for export to give wrong ideas to curious minds.

  “Yes, but this is about their witchcraft. They retrieve them, just like they hunt down the half-bloods. The Ainadu prevent their secrets from spreading.” Leere sighed. “We are so lucky to have brave and brilliant people who enable studying these artifacts.”

  Jonathan agreed readily as such nonsense rumours made his life in the South easier. In truth, there was no such thing as a half-blood Ainadu. If the blood carried resonance, its bearer was an Ainadu and belonged to Agiisha. Blood’s ability to activate a matrix was proof of its bearer being blessed by the dragons, or so the faith said. Jonathan’s father had another opinion; for him, the dragons were not gods, but powerful parasites.

  “Have you heard about Veringe’s newest invention?” Jonathan asked.

  “Unfortunately, not, and I am eager to see it revealed. Veringe has studied old technology for his whole life. Maybe he has awakened some ancient system, and we can talk with the behemoths in the orbit.” Leere laughed, as if the idea were hilarious. Jonathan continued discussing with her while observing his environment.

  The atmosphere in the room was eager and expecting, but also forced. The ladies and the gentlemen tried to keep up an illusion of a social gathering while consuming the refreshments, but they were waiting for Captain Veringe to appear.

  Jonathan knew there were business rivals among the guests. It was odd, but the Captain was known more as an individual than his company’s representative. The fragments of the evening’s discussions had revealed to Jonathan that Veringe both owned and financed an airship, and the trading company had been an excuse for his adventures. Jonathan appreciated such a way of life; it was something he would have loved to do, should he have had an interest in technology.

  Jonathan was getting a new drink when a man walking past a door caught his attention. It was the guard who had checked them earlier. The man’s steps were hurried, and Jonathan sneaked to the door, seemingly observing a painting of an airship sailing over a shipwreck. The guard halted farther in the corridor, and Jonathan heard a short discussion, but couldn’t make out the words. He sipped his drink and hoped the evening would take an interesting turn.

  “Joanna, I was afraid I would find you drinking,” Thomms said.

  Jonathan giggled and turned to face the woman: “It is so exciting. Are you having a good time?”

  “Probably too good as I left you alone.” Thomms sighed. “Have you met interesting people?”

  “Maybe.” Jonathan stepped closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Why did Veringe invite these people if he worries about safety?”

  “Despite all his achievements, our host is missing respect among the scientific community. He is also getting too infirm to captain his ship. He wants recognition and financial independence from the guilds and the companies.”

  “But why does he hate you?”

  “He doesn’t. He suspects me to be an Ainadu and wants the evidence to reveal it.”

  “That is an odd conclusion from him.”

  The Navigator stirred her untouched drink. “I know things about the Ainadu and excel at my work.” A smile drew new lines among the old scars on her face. “My veins don’t carry one drop of your people’s blood, but I read the movements of air and water. I have also twice declined Captain Veringe’s offer to join his crew. He says I keep secrets because I have no journeymen under my name.”

  Jonathan nodded and smiled, summoning a tipsy look to his face. The southerners believed in all kinds of nonsense about the Ainadu, and using that to blackmail the Navigator made sense. To Jonathan, Thomms’ heritage didn’t matter in one direction or another.

  A thin man leaning on a walking stick stepped into the room, clapping his hands and demanding attention. The guests murmured, pushing closer, and the change in the mood told that the host had finally arrived.

  “Dear guests! I hope you have enjoyed the refreshments.” Veringe started his speech with a broken voice, as if he was having trouble with his throat. Jonathan noticed something green in the man’s eyes, a hint of Watergate’s invasion inside the body. “The invitees, please, follow me. I trust you will enjoy the little presentation I’ve prepared for you. There is entertainment for your companions in the drawing room. Music and such, something more interesting than an old man talking.”

  There was scattered applause, and guests followed Veringe through them. Thomms squeezed Jonathan’s shoulder, murmuring. “Behave.”

  “Sure.” Jonathan considered joining the crowd but decided against it when he spotted a soldier standing by the door. About ten other guests stayed with him; they were the respectable upper-class people, and Jonathan assumed his immediate future would be boring.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  A lady dressed in blue, Veringe’s adult daughter, guided the guests to the drawing room, where huge windows opened towards the house’s patio. A piano stood by the wall, and a nervous girl waited by it. Jonathan chose the sofa that was farthest from the instrument; he hated all the pianos, for they reminded him of his father’s habit of playing. A dark-haired man who had earlier been introduced as Josue sat beside Jonathan.

  “Lovely to meet you again so soon. Is there more of that somewhere?” Josue said, pointing at Jonathan’s glass. Jonathan smiled timidly and nodded toward the serving table. The location of alcohol was always competing with the potential escape routes from Jonathan's attention.

  Veringe’s daughter gave a short speech about the trading company’s charity work, and the girl started to play. Jonathan tried to pretend he was listening, but his thoughts wandered, and his eyes scanned the guests and windows. The collar of his dress was too tight, and Jonathan was sure that the man beside him saw through the wig, the make-up, and fillings, and was interested in him. The girl played on, and Josue filled Jonathan’s glass from the bottle he had seized.

  Movement in the patio awakened Jonathan from his thoughts. Two -no, three- guards were walking there, checking the perimeter. Light reflected from a second-floor window that was slightly ajar. Suddenly, the guests applauded, and Jonathan joined them.

  Jonathan had a feeling that something was going on. An intruder in the house was not an immediate danger to the Navigator, but Jonathan wanted to check the situation. Besides, two boys approached the piano carrying stringed instruments, and Jonathan had listened to enough music for one evening. He set his empty glass on the table and stood up.

  “I’ll return soon. I’ll have to powder my nose,” Jonathan said to Josue.

  “May I escort you? This building is a maze.”

  “No need, thank you. But could you confiscate that decatur? I smell cognac.”

  Josue smiled treacherously. “I would love to.”

  ***

  Jonathan used the door where Veringe had disappeared. It opened to a staircase of white wood rising to the second floor. A glance from the window confirmed to Jonathan that he was on the part of the house whose walls and windows the guards had earlier scrutinized.

  The stairs led him to a carpeted corridor. Cool air flew from below one door. Jonathan opened it and stepped inside, holding a drink he had picked up on his way through the main hall. The room was empty, but its window was propped half open.

  Jonathan looked around, but everything seemed to be in place. He was in a small library, where the walls displayed more of the Captain’s souvenirs. The items depicted such sights and scenes that they would be risqué choices to display in public. On impulse, Jonathan tested the inner door and found it locked. His curiosity awakened, and Jonathan took a few pins from his wig and probed the simple mechanical lock open with them. Its mechanism was heavy in its movements, as if it were dirty or had been opened earlier without the proper key.

  The room was dark, and the curtains were closed. Jonathan noticed a drawing table, a cabinet, and another table covered with mechanical parts and associated tools. The table was overseen by a portrait of a man with bushy eyebrows, holding a helmet in his arm. Jonathan guessed him to be one of the Watergate Olds, and his protection had been sought by pushing silvery pins into the portrait’s frames, a form of superstition.

  The curtains drew Jonathan’s attention. He set the glass on the table and raised the cloth to confirm his suspicion. A dead man lay on the floor, his upper body stripped naked. Jonathan observed the deceased with curiosity; after all, this was going to be an interesting night.

  The dead man carried the tattoos of the Ronsilde Trading Company. His boots and trousers hinted that he had been a soldier. There was a cut in his cheek, and he had been killed by a single thrust that had flown neatly between his ribs and reached the heart.

  Jonathan considered what Joanna would do and counted hysterical screaming among the options. That would cancel Veringe’s presentation and bring the Navigator here, but it was pointless. Whoever had done the murder was surely not hunting Thomms. Jonathan dragged the curtain back to hide the body, picked up his drink, and walked out, keen to see what additional turns the evening had in store. He was not afraid, because violence and bloodshed were the tools of his trade.

  Jonathan was stepping back to the corridor when a distant burst of laughter stopped him. Veringe’s visitors were somewhere close. Jonathan tried to locate the noise when his instincts alerted him. He pivoted on his heels and raised his glass between himself and the potential attacker. But it was just the man he had left downstairs. Josue backed a step on the stairs and held tightly to the handrail to prevent himself from falling.

  “Joanna, I guessed you would be here.”

  “Did you follow me?” Jonathan said. Josue’s presence was a nuisance, but it created a great cover for his sneaking.

  “After the duet, they prepared for another piece, and I decided to follow your cue to evacuate myself. I was wondering if you had found better drinks.” Josue took the glass from Jonathan’s hand and sipped. “What do you say, shall we have a little adventure? Veringe’s private collection is quite a sight. I could show it to you.” Josue winked and prepared to open the door to the library.

  “Aren’t you being missed?” Jonathan walked towards the next door.

  “My Annike is with your Navigator, and Veringe’s technical wonders will keep them entertained. They don’t even remember our existence, while they indulge themselves.” Josue followed Jonathan and took hold of both the door handle and Jonathan’s hand. “That is just a servant’s room.” His breath smelled of alcohol when he leaned close to Jonathan. Jonathan considered the bonus and malus of an elbow placed on Josue’s ribs, but decided to play his chosen role.

  “I’d love to be entertained by those wonders,” he said softly, leaning against Josue.

  “I’d love to entertain you. We might…”

  A floor creaking made the two men startle. Jonathan pressed the handle, and the door opened. They went to a tiny room with a bunk bed, a cupboard, and a table. Josue closed the door, smiling. Jonathan returned the smile but for different reasons. Steps and discussion were coming closer.

  “It was nothing. Just imagination; the old man says he likes the fresh air,” a man said in the corridor.

  “He is paranoid,” another man answered.

  “I would be paranoid if I had to work with that tech. It is possessed.”

  “You are possessed. They are memories from a better time.”

  “I mean the Ainadu stuff.”

  “Captain says they are safe and sterile, properly contained.”

  “You saw with your own eyes what happened when that thing was connected to the generator. They carry the ash curse like everything coming from the north.” The voices disappeared up the stairs.

  A hand touched Jonathan’s bottom. “Okay, sugar, the route is clear. Let’s get entertained.”

  Jonathan chuckled softly and peeked outside. The corridor was abandoned. He emptied the glass and left it on the table. “Did you get hold of that decanter?”

  Josue shook his head in fake sadness. “Oh no, I didn’t. But our host won’t deny us access to his liquor storage.”

  “How generous of him! Are you a regular guest here?”

  Josue guided Jonathan to the corridor. “Only when Annike tries in vain to cultivate me. Luckily, the collection is fancy, and your presence makes it worth my while. How about your Navigator, are the rumours about her true?”

  “Oh, she is a handful.” Jonathan didn’t even try to guess what rumour Josue meant.

  “Maybe you will recommend me to her.”

  “Maybe I will.”