Torres’s eyebrows shot up, and she scanned the deck, likely looking for signs of Viper. “What happened to him?”
“Let’s just say there was a change in leadership,” I replied, maintaining steady eye contact. “One that benefits everyone. Same terms as before, with a bonus for the smooth transition.” I slid a small pouch toward her that clinked pleasantly with gold coins.
Torres’s expression remained professional as she pocketed the pouch, but I caught the slight smile tugging at her lips. “I always knew you’d be a captain one day, Max,” she murmured, using my real name for the first time in years.
The pride that flooded through me was complicated—a reminder of old dreams achieved through means I’d never imagined.
“Very well. Let’s inspect your cargo, shall we?” she announced loudly.
Torres followed me aboard, performing the most cursory inspection I’d ever witnessed. She glanced into the cargo hold, barely taking three steps inside before turning around, then scribbled on her forms.
“Papers seem to be in order,” Torres announced, once we were back to the gangplank. As she handed me the stampeddocuments, she whispered, “Three hours, usual place. We clearly have catching up to do.”
“I’ll be there. With… someone else too.”
She shot me a curious look before shouting, “Welcome to Gearhart, Captain. Your crew is free to disembark.”
Another ripple of cheers shot around the crew as everyone jostled to be first over the gangplank. Ariella was one of the first over, and I wasn’t surprised. She was always eager to visit her family when we stopped here. Kas and I hovered behind, waiting until everyone else had headed off. We both had the same thought—that we wanted to be alone together, after so long being crammed in with everyone.
Hand in hand, we left the docks and entered the city proper, where the difference between the two kingdoms became even more apparent. Sunada’s Embergate had always struck me as a place built to extract—from its people, its resources, its very soul. The capital city reflected that with its stark division between the opulent noble quarter with its gleaming towers and the ramshackle factory districts where workers lived in perpetual twilight beneath the smoke.
Gearhart, though, seemed built to flourish. The city rose in elegant, interconnected tiers rather than harsh divisions. Flux-powered trams glided between districts on elevated tracks adorned with flowering vines. Buildings of warm sandstone were accented with copper and brass, their facades painted in hues that would’ve been considered frivolous waste in Sunada.
“I’ve never seen so many colors in one place,” Kaspar murmured beside me, his eyes wide as he took in the scenery.
He was right. Where Embergate dressed itself in industrial grays and the stark black and white of wealth versus poverty, Gearhart bloomed in painted facades, flowering window boxes, and bright awnings that snapped in the breeze.
Kas’s eyes traced the network of brass-railed walkways connecting buildings at various heights, the flux-powered lifts carrying people between levels, and the intricate clockwork public fountains that served as both art and practical water sources.
“Those are the manufacturing districts,” I said, nodding toward the western quadrant where elegant smokestacks released not the thick black plumes of Embergate’s factories but thin wisps of steam, filtered through ingenious mechanisms. “They’ve figured out ways to capture and reuse the energy from their production processes. Makes their fluxstone supplies last longer.”
Kas’s attention shifted to a mixed group of children playing with a rope—some in fine clothes, others clearly from working families.
“In Embergate, those children wouldn’t be allowed in the same classroom,” he murmured.
“Asteris has its problems,” I admitted, “but they’ve never believed talent only exists in certain bloodlines. Anyone showing aptitude can apprentice almost anywhere.” I glanced at Kas. We both understood the unspoken exception—fluxweavers faced danger everywhere, Asteris included.
A pair of city guards passed nearby, their uniforms crisp but lacking the threatening austerity of Sunada’s enforcers. Their flux-powered batons hung at their sides rather than being prominently displayed, and they nodded politely to citizens rather than scrutinizing them for infractions.
“Is it really as good as it looks here?” Kas asked, skepticism edging his voice.
I adjusted my stance, easing the pressure on my hip. “No place is perfect. The nobility here still has more than their share, and there are still plenty of slums, some of them just as bad as Sunada’s. Everyone who lives in this city has wealth, to somedegree. But the towns surrounding it, like the one Ariella is from, aren’t great places to live. But compared to Embergate, there’s room to breathe here, room to rise. A skilled worker can become a master here. A clever idea can open doors.”
I watched understanding settle in his eyes as he looked toward the heart of the city—thinking of Kayla, no doubt, and the opportunities that might await her here that Sunada would never allow.
As we wandered through Asteris’s bustling market district, I couldn’t stop stealing more glances at Kaspar. His face continued to house eyes wide with wonder, lips that parted in a permanent half-smile as he took in every detail. The weight that had pressed on his shoulders since I’d known him seemed momentarily lifted, and seeing him like this—unguarded, genuinely happy—made my chest tighten in the best possible way.
“Look at this!” he exclaimed, pulling me toward a craftsman demonstrating a miniature airship that actually hovered above his table, powered by a pebble-grade fluxstone. “It’s incredible!”
“You could probably build that with that brain of yours,” I murmured, enjoying his enthusiasm.
Although, as we navigated the crowded streets, anxiety of being caught thrummed beneath my skin, an undercurrent of fear that I couldn’t ignore. I tried my best to hide it from Kas, not wanting to spoil the day. I longed for my name to be cleared, to walk freely without constantly scanning for military uniforms or bounty hunters. Every flash of an official uniform in the crowd sent a jolt of adrenaline through me, though I maintained an outward calm.
My biggest giveaway would always be my leg. My prosthetic required extra attention this morning. I’d padded the leg of my trousers to give the appearance of a natural limb and pulled my socks high. Walking as naturally as possible drained me, butKaspar stayed close, making sure my leg remained charged as we explored the city. Whenever we paused at a stall, he’d casually place his hand near my leg, and I’d feel the warm pulse of energy flowing into the stones.
We passed a small shop selling a range of hats. In the window, a green bandana, the color of Kas’s eyes, attracted my attention. I paid the woman a coin, then tugged it onto his head. “For my pirate stowaway,” I said, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
The grin he gave me stole my breath away.
