CHAPTER 42: RIDICULOUS FACTS

  The end of dinner certainly did not mark the end of the occasion, and when Elias stepped back inside Mr. Grimsby’s ballroom, it seemed that the party was only now getting started. Perhaps enough wine and sherry had been imbibed to let loose the inner angels and demons of these laboriously fortified aristocrats.

  And still, Elias felt that miles stretched between him and everyone else here. Despite all he had achieved in Sailor’s Rise, he felt now as he had that first time he’d entered this space. From his own viewpoint, he had crossed mountains and valleys, but when he saw himself from their eyes—as he did now—his accomplishments were judged from afar. From this perspective, they appeared very small, indeed.

  Elias needed a social savior, and fortunately, and despite the details of their previous parting, he found one gazing back at him. Abigail waved him over, and he was only too happy to oblige.

  She was standing outside her circle of friends in a simple black dress as Elias walked up with an appreciative if uneasy smile. “I was hoping to catch you,” he said.

  “And I was, once again, surprised to see you here,” she replied. “Perhaps I should stop being surprised.”

  “You know what they say about surprises.”

  “I don’t. What do they say about surprises?”

  Elias stalled and then shrugged. “I was hoping something clever would come to me in the moment.”

  “Seriously, what are you doing here?” Abigail asked. “I didn’t think your business venture had grown that much since last we spoke.”

  “It has grown,” he said, “partly thanks to you. Had I not known Sultan Atakan was so fond of cats, I doubt The Two Worlds Trading Company would currently be employed by His Excellency. Actually, we have a cat now. That was an… unforeseen consequence, but we’ve all grown rather fond of the little rascal.”

  “Does your cat have a name?”

  “Islet.”

  “Cute, but you didn’t answer my question,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

  “I was fortunate,” Elias explained. “There was a contest at the Spring Exhibition. I pulled out the black ball.”

  She squinted at him. He checked himself for stains, but she was clearly seeing something else. “The first time we crossed paths, you won that shooting contest at the Night Market,” she said. “In Azir, it was a shell game. Now here you are, having won yet another contest. What am I supposed to make of that?”

  “I guess I’m just lucky.”

  “There’s lucky, and then there’s lucky. You’re clever and not above bending rules, perhaps even breaking them. I haven’t forgotten you stole our ship.”

  “It wasn’t stealing,” Elias corrected her. “It was abandoned.”

  She squinted at him again, still searching for something she could not find. “The central promise of Sailor’s Rise is a lie,” she said, shifting her tone. “This idea that any man, regardless of his means, may ascend its ranks. It happens, sure—rarely—but almost everyone you see in this room started with something. Everyone except you. You keep appearing at our parties, on our trade routes, as if by some magic you’re able to step through the invisible wall meant to keep you out. I don’t know how you do it, but I know that luck can only take a man so far, and you’ve come farther.”

  “Well, I wanted to see you.” Elias was proud of this transition, and it showed on his face. “How have you been?”

  “Busy and yet bored,” she answered, not immune to his charm. “Life pulls me in many directions and the same one all at once.”

  “There must be something you still enjoy,” he insisted.

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  “Music,” she admitted. “I enjoy playing music.”

  “What do you play?”

  “Piano. Are you a musician yourself?”

  Elias shook his head. “Never found the time.”

  “Too preoccupied being a crafty businessman to be an artist?” she asked.

  “I draw,” he said, “though less so lately, so maybe you’re right.”

  “If you sketch as well as you shoot, I would love to see your work. Perhaps you can show me sometime.”

  “Only if I can hear you play.”

  “I’m not agreeing to that.”

  “How about dinner: would you agree to that?” And there it was. Elias had spotted his opportunity and, as he was wont to do, went for it. The question had flown lightly from his lips, but in the sudden silence between them it lingered with an unanticipated heaviness. His breath grew short, his face hot. Flirting was easy. Flirting was purgatory, but now he had opened the gates to heaven or hell.

  “I, umm…” She paused.

  Was she at least considering it, he wondered? She looked like she was considering it.

  “I don’t think that’s a wise idea,” she eventually said.

  It was hell, then. Elias made one last plea for his salvation. “You don’t think it’s a wise idea, or you don’t want to?”

  Another pause. “It’s complicated.”

  He could not surmise why exactly a date needed to be complicated, though he supposed her family had something to do with it, and as if right on cue, her brother appeared.

  “Who’s your friend, sister?” Edric didn’t so much ask as he announced the question, speaking over people who, one head at a time, turned toward them as if this inquiry demanded a public answer.

  “My friend is Mr. Elias Vice,” she said to them all, presenting him with both hands, leaning into her brother’s challenge—or just eager to elude Elias’s last question. “He and I met at the Solstice Eve Ball a year back and again in Azir this past summer. Unlike most of the genteel elites swirling about this room, Elias actually built his company from nothing, believe it or not. They’re still a young venture, but even Sultan Atakan has employed The Two Worlds Trading Company, isn’t that right?”

  Elias nodded. “We also just signed a client in Saint Albus shipping nickel.”

  “One can only imagine where Elias will be in ten years,” she went on, wrapping up her performance. “I expect back in this room.”

  For only a brief, wonderful moment, Elias believed her praise was meant for him, but the rolling eyes of Edric revealed its true target.

  “Saint Albus,” Edric scoffed. “I’ll admit I almost forgot that place existed. I’m not sure the business would be worth the agony of spending even a second there.”

  The gangly man beside him, whom Elias thought he recognized from the Night Market, let out a single, loud laugh.

  “The United North ships about a quarter of the world’s cobrium,” Elias said, stepping into the shoes Abigail had so elegantly laid out for him. “But I understand your reservations. Not everyone is built for the north’s biting cold nor its rugged demeanor. Some men would rather keep their hands warm and soft. I guess we’re simply cut from a different cloth, as my mother liked to say.”

  This time, the single, restrained laugh came from Abigail. A few others chuckled surprised chuckles.

  “You’re right about that,” Edric replied. “We are cut from a different cloth. For example, I don’t steal from my competitors. And how exactly did you acquire the vessel that allows you to conduct business as a trading company, Mr. Came-from-Nothing? Airships aren’t cheap. Most companies cannot afford even a single vessel, let alone the fine ship I’m told your business sails. Unless…”—he feigned a dramatically contemplative pose—“you didn’t pay for it. But how would one acquire an airship without paying for it? What a mystery that is. Oh, now I remember: you fucking stole it from us.”

  A woman between them appeared confused. “I thought you two didn’t know each other.”

  “If I had stolen a ship from The Graystone Company, do you really think it would still be in my possession?” Elias shot back. “The Sapphire Spirit ship is the legal, registered property of The Two Worlds Trading Company.”

  “I am aware of that unfortunate, ridiculous fact,” Edric said, “but don’t think you can try that stunt again. Council has updated your legal loophole. Lesson learned, I suppose. Even brick walls can’t keep out the unscrupulous riffraff.”

  “It was your loophole, not mine,” Elias pointed out.

  “You’re also banned from our junkyard.”

  “I can think of worse places to be banned from.”

  The crowd’s simmering amusement was now positively boiling. Elias had thought they would be entirely on Edric’s side, but evidently they were on the side of entertainment, and the newcomer had brought them plenty of that.

  “Keep the dumb ship. I have a better one now.” Edric’s rebuttals were regressing in maturity. “Don’t worry, folks.” He swiveled toward his friends, assuming they were, in fact, his friends. “You’ll all get a good look at her when I win this year’s Emerald Cup. She’s the fastest airship you’ve ever seen.” He faced Elias again. “Far superior to your Stunted Spirit.”

  “A ship is only as good as its crew,” Elias said.

  And then—and then he did something genuinely stupid.

  “The Two Worlds Trading Company will also be racing in The Emerald Cup,” he mentioned, and not quietly, “so I guess I’ll see you at the finish line.”

  No, Elias had not forgotten everything Bertrand had warned them about the race, including and especially its five-thousand-relic entry fee. His light-footed half had once again gotten away from him, leaving his wiser self sprinting behind, trying to catch up, left to clean the mess.

  His audience cheered him on, but Elias knew it was disapproval he truly deserved.

  And there it was on the face of Constance, who was sitting at a nearby table with a few other tired-looking guests. She made eye contact with Elias as a stranger slapped his shoulder approvingly. Had she overheard him? Her slowly shaking head suggested she had.