His charge, Crafter a'Loria, was conferring with nearly a dozen engineers, as she stood near the bottom of the scaffolding beneath the massive ships.
The conversation was highly technical, almost indecipherably so, but the phrase "cooling lines" came up quite frequently. Mathias shrugged his coat further over his shoulders and gazed back to her apprentice, and his first meeting with his Shadow.
To his surprise, a third person was standing close to them, a low ranking soldier with a flushed face and a messenger bag.
"Endless embers beneath the dirt, you had better be kidding," he heard Lucille hiss, as she fixed Gerald with a harsh glare. Despite her attempt to keep quiet, he could hear her over the muted cacophony of distant work. "There's no way we're being invaded."
The word 'invaded' put him on edge, and he stepped closer to listen.
"I'm afraid so, ma'am. If you could direct me to Crafter a'Loria? Now?" the messenger asked, curtly, and Mathias smiled a little. He wondered if the soldier would be this bold if she knew Lucille was a shadow, rather than the mechanic she appeared to be.
Mathias turned away and strode to Tabitha, still engaged with the engineers. He drew closer until he could hear his charge speak. "Triple-check the seals after each section. Triple-check, mind. Once you finish, we'll pump the Gloam in from the bottom, leaving the top-hatch open. Once you see the mists pour out the top, you know it's full. Working with a heavier-than-air gas is a lot like working with a liquid. Take your time with the bag-seal, and if you hit a patch you can't heat enough, ask my apprentice or myself," she explained, her eagerness demonstrated by her rapid speech.
Mathias caught her eye and pointed towards her apprentice. She nodded, and stepped away, walking towards him. "What is it?" she asked.
"Military messenger. Asking for you specifically," Mathias replied, cringing a little. The military had been breathing down her neck for almost a year, and she had struggled to keep them from commandeering the project. "Gerald is with her now."
She strode towards her apprentice, and Mathias watched Gerald point her out to the messenger. The messenger turned to her crisply, all formality at this point, and Mathias' eyes widened when he saw the band on her arm. He cursed himself for missing it at first.
The band on her arm was black.
Highest priority. Only the Lord Captain of the Wall was allowed to dispatch such messages. A messenger wearing that band could demand the exclusive use of any transportation, and would be admitted without question to even a private meeting between the heads of every Bureau in the City.
The messenger stepped up to Crafer a'Loria and saluted sharply. "Ma'am. A missive from The Lord Captain. Highest priority," she said, loudly. Every person in earshot stopped to look, dozens of people no longer hammering or welding steel.
"Go ahead," Tabitha said. Her voice, quieter than usual, still carried into the new silence.
"Sorry, ma'am, but this is a written missive, and I am not privy to its contents." she replied. She handed the note to the Crafter, set the satchel down by her feet, saluted again, and started at a slow run away from the gathering.
Mathias watched Tabitha tear open the seal, and after pulling the letter out, toss the envelope aside as a small flash of fire devoured it. He stepped forward as she read, watching her eyes dashing across the lines until she finished. Tabitha read it a second time, cursed under her breath, and nearly ripped it in half.
"Gerald!" she said, loudly, as she marched back towards the ships. Gerald followed, and Mathias fell into step beside him. Lucille picked up the satchel as she followed behind them.
"Master, what is it?" Gerald asked, confused. Tabitha handed her apprentice the note without a word and left them behind as Gerald stopped to read it.
"Start working on the other ship! I want both of them in the air within the next four hours!" she shouted, pointing to a group of mechanics eating nearby. They stopped, one dropped his food, and they stood as straight as they ever had in their lives.
She rolled her eyes, and might even have hissed in frustration. "Check the frame, and prep for the application of the canvas. Go!" she barked, and the group ran off to the ship.
Mathias glanced over Gerald's shoulder to the note, which was written in a delicate, practised hand.
It read:
Tabitha a'Loria,
By this decree, you, your ship, and crew enough to operate her, shall be deployed in defence of the City, until the recently sighted invaders have been repelled. You are to fly, with all haste, to the western section of the wall and report to a communication hub for further assignment.
For the preservation of all in our care,
Benden Tammerlane
Lord Captain of the Wall
"Burn me," Lucille hissed, reading from Gerald's other shoulder.
Mathias watched Gerald deliberately rub his thumb along the writing. His eyes widened, and he nodded cautiously, as Gerald turned to Lucille. "This wasn't written with ink. It was burned on, which means it was scribed by a Crafter," Gerald said. He turned to Mathias, and added, "the Guild must have approved this message."
Mathias shook his head. "Not approved. There's no affirming seal on the document. But it does mean they know, and won't challenge it."
Gerald shrugged. "Semantics. The Captain of the Wall wants the ships, and the only agency we could appeal to just told us they won't intervene. My master and I, and by extension the two of you," Gerald looked to him first, then Lucille. "Are now part of the army. What's in the satchel?"
Lucille opened it, and drew out a sword.
Mathias took it from her, hefting it by it's still secured scabbard. The blade was longer than the standard-issue short swords soldiers received, single-bladed, with a curve near the tip similar to a cutlass. The pommel was a metal hoop with two horizontal bars inside, and the handle drank the heat from his hand.
"An officer's sword," Gerald said softly, from beside him. Mathias turned to him, impressed. "I can feel its core from here."
"The cold-stone core is meant to distinguish genuine officer swords from forgeries," Mathias explained for Lucille's benefit. "Like our knives, they're a symbol of office. The cold-stone core drinks heat, and a sword like this could flash freeze skin and muscle."
Tabitha, from a distance, shouted, "Put it on, Gerald! You'll need it more than I will!"
All three of them stared at Tabitha, and only Mathias was less than stunned. Gerald looked as if he had just swallowed the sword, and Lucille's eyes likely had never been open that wide. Mathias stepped towards his charge, deliberately putting himself between the other two and the Crafter.
"You mean to do this?" Mathias asked softly.
"Of course. He's ready, and he's the only one who doesn't know it," Tabitha said in response, meaningfully. She stepped past him, and ignoring Lucille, asked Gerald, "What is the fastest way to the Last Wall?"
Gerald, without hesitating, pointed to the Spire. "Ride the updraft two miles up, then head west. Descend after forty-five minutes. It should put you eight miles from the last wall before you drop below the cloud cover," he explained.
Lucille glanced at the apprentice as if seeing him for the first time. Mathias rolled his eyes as he shared a glance with Tabitha, who looked as if she had just won something significant.
"I'm putting both ships in commission tonight. The first should be ready in under an hour, which means you could be at the Last Wall in two. I'll stay to oversee the assembly of the other ship since I know the mechanics better," Tabitha said.
Gerald stood still, stunned. Mathias found it odd to see Tabitha's fourth apprentice less than confident. Mathias stepped up to him and offered the sword, hilt-first. "Congratulations, Captain."
Tabitha must have noticed her apprentice's trepidation as he hesitated to take the sword. But when she spoke next, it was to Lucille. "Shadow, you wonder why he isn't a Crafter yet? Watch him fly, if you have the courage. You'll learn."
Gerald took the sword from him and swung the belt attached to it around his waist, letting the sword settle on his left side. Most of the blade disappeared behind his coat, but the handle sat forward, with the pommel visible.
"Make sure they finish, Gerald. I have another ship to oversee," Tabitha said, as she walked away. There was a swagger in her walk as she left the three of them behind.
Fifty steps away, she turned back and shouted, "Name her! It's bad luck to fly a ship without a name!"
Gerald smirked, and shouted back, "How do you know it's bad luck? No one has ever flown a ship before!"
"Because I said so," Tabitha insisted and walked away.
Mathias smiled and turned to Lucille, who seemed unsure of what to do next. Mathias stepped next to her, and quietly, to avoid being overheard, said, "Whatever your feelings, put them aside. Until the invasion is repelled."
She looked at him, her expression difficult to read. "You're asking me to follow a Crafter who's about to, what would you call it?" she asked, unable to find the words.
"Fly," Mathias said lamely, and he tried to give a sympathetic smile. Not his strong suit. "But he's still an apprentice, so he legally doesn't need supervision. If you're not up for the job, you don't have to go."
She paused, eyes downcast. He waited, solemnly, until she could ask him what she wanted to. "Would you trust him?"
"Trust him with my life, as he flies miles up with four-hundred tons of steel tethered to a giant fireball?" Mathias asked. He paused for a moment, for dramatic effect. He already knew his answer.
"Of course not. Which is why if you go, make sure you're not just a passenger," he told her.
She smiled at him. It was surprisingly warm. "If I had known, I would have paid more attention to the flight controls," she said. She thought for a moment, then added, "I'll go with him. But are you sure Crafter a'Loria should be flying? In a way, Gerald being an apprentice is his greatest asset."
"My problem," Mathias responded, curtly. Her appointment to her new post offended him, even without allowing her to question his judgement. He walked away, to follow Tabitha, leaving Lucille with her charge.
A quick walk allowed him to catch up to his Crafter, as she had barely made it one hundred yards. She was, surprisingly, conferring with a Military officer, with a single bar engraved on his sword. The soldier was nodding rapidly as Tabitha spoke.
"We need every mechanic you can get your hands on. There's a lot of material that needs fabricating, and for every person working, I want two inspecting. If anything is wrong, and that ship falls out of the sky, it could kill hundreds. Worse, it could kill me. Get every specialist you can find. Mechanics, welders, Crafters, engineers. And use every volunteer that approaches you tonight. Even if they're doing nothing but sweeping," Tabitha said, running through the dozens of thoughts she was likely working on at the same time.
"But ma'am, this project is still supposed to be a secret," the Lieutenant interjected, and Mathias cringed at the inevitable reaction.
Tabitha looked like she wanted to light the hapless soldier on fire. Mathias had seen that glare before, and the menace behind it had cowed Bureau Chiefs. The poor lieutenant was probably close to running away.
"You've heard the news, right?" Tabitha asked.
"What news, ma'am? I'm just here to keep unauthorised persons out of the area," the lieutenant replied, carefully.
She handed him the note, and a few moments later, received it back with a striking change in the soldier's demeanour. "Captain! I'll have every specialist in the area at your disposal within the hour. Did you need anything else?"
"Have some squads wait nearby, in case we need extra hands. The faster these ships are in the air, the faster we all can help with the war," Tabitha said, and the Lieutenant saluted again before he dashed off. Mathias stepped beside her as they watched the nearby soldiers whip themselves into a flurry of activity.
"Crafters shall not command, nor wield authority over the denizens of the City," Mathias recited aloud. He looked back meaningfully towards the departing Lieutenant. "You just legally broke the first law of reconciliation; the only law carved into stone since the first invasion."
"Benden broke it. Of course, he can get away with it, as long as the Airships put on a good show," Tabitha replied, as she turned and marched back to the ships.
Mathias, following beside her, asked, "Did you ever intend to Captain a ship yourself? Is this why Gerald is not a Crafter? The First Law of Reconciliation?"
For the first time, in the six years that Mathias had followed and watched this audacious Crafter, there were tears in her eyes, and her voice trembled as she spoke. "I never expected to live this long."
Mathias only nodded. He didn't trust himself to say the right thing.
"You should go with Gerald. He could use an experienced hand helping him through this," Tabitha said, glancing back at the other airship, where her apprentice was inspecting the thick steel chain tethering the lift-bag to the ship.
"Not happening. Gerald is not my problem," Mathias insisted, firmly.
"I really am a risk," Tabitha said, sighing as she spoke.
"You're only alive today because of those ships. You know that," Mathias replied, quietly.
"And you," Tabitha said quietly, and Mathias flinched as irritation pulled at his face. Crafters were not supposed to know their Shadows. "I read up on you. Your last four Crafters were all marked for their final evaluator days before you were assigned to them. When a Crafter is marked that way, they usually live a month or two."
"Your assignments lasted much, much longer. Every one of them had years to make some of their greatest contributions to the City. I have had years, and to see it take flight, well..." Tabitha paused, before continuing. "If I seem less than grateful-"
Mathias interrupted her with a shake of his head. "I am still your executioner," he said and meant it as an apology.
"Not that," Tabitha insisted. "You annoy me far less than I thought you would. But I know I don't have much time left," she said.
Mathias shook his head, and held out his hand. "Don't think like that."
"I know the symptoms. The eyes and hair turn ash-grey," Tabitha said. Mathias's gaze lingered on her once brilliant red hair, streaked with the unusual charcoal colour that would glow orange when she crafted.
She had laboured for years to keep herself sane, despite the toll her decades of crafting had taken on her. Her mind was badly frayed, much of it already lost to her power.
Now, strained to her limits, The Lord Captain of the Wall demanded she fly her untested ships into battle. She was afraid, and he understood why.
He shifted his focus away from his musings, to listen to her continue. "Nearby flames burn brighter, and the irrational rages become fiercer. Worse, I can't account for the minutes of my day I spend staring at the Bore. I don't know how much I have left, Mathias," she finished.
Mathias paused, carefully. "What are you asking?"
"I'd like to die on my own terms. I don't want to lose myself to the urges, the scourging. To live for nothing but the desire to burn everything around me, I don't want that. Especially now."
"It won't happen," Mathias responded, his voice a harsh rasp.
"If I ask you to, wou-" she started to say, but Mathias had already moved.
One of the several knives he carried was his badge of office. Much like the officer swords, it was made with a cold-stone core that drank heat, so much heat that only one furnace in the City could make these weapons. It was this one he had slipped into his hand, and between heartbeats, now rested against the Crafter's collarbone.
Cold-stone had an unusual effect on a Crafter. When they touched it, their talent occupied itself with countering the debilitating cold, so that few Crafters could still command the flame without training to do so.
Tabitha had that training, and could still immolate half the district with the knife in her chest. But it had an effect, and her relief was almost immediate. Relief mixed with her shock, and she stared at him wordlessly.
"To live is to burn," Mathias recited, at almost a whisper. "It is the creed of your predecessors, who whispered it as they died to save us by making the Bore. It is the creed of not only your Guild but of this City, which will not live out the hour if the fires go out. I will not endanger my home by letting you descend into madness."
She nodded, smiling despite the knife at her throat. "Thank you."
He set the knife back in his coat and inclined his head.
"It's still unnatural how fast you can move," Tabitha added.
"Says the woman who could turn this district into slag," Mathias mused.
"Pointy metal sticks still hurt," Tabitha replied. She glanced back at her apprentice, and asked, "What do you know about Lucille Kendor?"
Mathias thought for a moment, recalling her file. "Competent. Clever, enough that she can pass herself off as a mechanic. She's loyal, or at least hasn't made any attempts to annoy her superiors. She spent the last three years covertly observing failed apprentices in the foundries."
"Covert reject watch? I've never heard of such a thing," Tabitha admitted.
"We're not very good at it, usually," Mathias admitted. He chuckled, to himself. The Bureau of Oversight was, despite the secrecy, as blunt an instrument as any in the City. Its members, despite their skill set and reputation, were hardly agents of the shadows.
"But pulling her from rejects-" Tabitha started.
Mathias decided to finish the sentence for her. "Bodes poorly for your apprentice's future."