The inside of the tavern shimmered in a soft blue light that reminded her of skyfire, but Aurora could detect no specific source of the blue tint, for the lanterns around the room and at each of the tables held plain burning wicks. The scent of seawater hung on the air, and a small waterfall fell over a rocky sculpture in one corner, a mermaid cast in bronze lounging on a rock at the base. If she had been anywhere else, Aurora would have thought it some marvel of mechanics, a system of pumps and pipes perhaps, but knowing what she did about Zephyr, she wondered if the woman was bold enough to risk magic in plain sight.

The room was crowded, the main bar full with people standing behind those seated. And most of the tables were full too, both the plain wooden ones on the first floor, and the more cushioned, private tables that were kept reserved for more special guests on the second floor. Aurora spied Ransom carrying a large box back behind the bar, but besides him every other employee she spotted was a woman. They came in every shape and size and look, but each of them wore pastel, flowing skirts that shimmered like the tail of a mermaid might if they were real; they dazzled in the blue light of the tavern. They smiled and charmed and cast coquettish glances at every man they passed, and every man in turn—whether he be a young lad barely old enough to drink or an old general she had seen countless times around her mother’s advisory tables—they all seemed to sway to the movement of the women around them, drawn like magnets.

On the second floor, she saw distinguished men meeting in alcoved tables, surrounded by plants for some modicum of privacy, but none of them paused their conversations when the women passed or stopped to refill drinks, and Aurora watched the way the women sometimes lingered by certain tables, unnecessarily dusting at plants, or filling up drinks that were nowhere near empty.

The men never seemed to notice. If they looked at the women at all, it was to stare or flirt or in a few instances reach out and touch. That was when Aurora saw the second male employee of the night. Zephyr’s lieutenant—the man called Raquim—was tall with dark skin and eyes that said what his lips did not. He had an uncanny way of appearing whenever a man tried to do anything more than talk to one of the women on staff.