Wax led them down the gangway, Steris on his arm.

“Seriously, Waxillium,” Marasi said, walking up beside them. “You need to import that chocolate of theirs. I don’t know what they put in it, but it’s amazing. You think the airships are going to be big? Wait until you taste this stuff.”

“Hey,” Wayne said, pulling up on his other side, but then twisting his neck to look at the people in the ship behind them. “Marasi, I think that pilot fellow fancies you.”

“Thank you,” Marasi said, “for lending us your brilliant powers of observation, Wayne.”

“That could be useful politically,” Steris noted.

“Please,” Marasi said. “He’s practically a child compared to me. And don’t you snicker.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Wax said, eyes ahead. He didn’t miss how reverently Marasi carried the mask, however.

Ahead, a group of the governor’s aides and guards clustered together in a protective bubble, as if they could stave off the weirdness before them—and what it represented—through collective body heat. Aradel himself stood apart, as if he’d pushed out of the group.

Wax strolled up to him, Steris on his arm, and waited.

“Damn,” Aradel finally said.

“I did warn you,” Wax replied.

Aradel shook his head in awe, eyes wide. “Well, maybe this will distract everyone from the disaster you all started in New Seran.”

“Bad?” Steris asked.

Aradel grunted. “Senate’s had my balls over the fire for two days straight, screaming about war and irresponsible leadership. As if I ever had any influence over you people.” He started, finally ripping his gaze from the airship, and coughed—as if realizing what he’d just said, and whom he’d said it to.

Wax smiled. Aradel was blunt, but usually displayed more tact than this. You couldn’t go far as a constable without some understanding of how to deal with people’s egos.

“Apologies, Lady Harms,” he said. “Ladrian, I need to hear what happened in New Seran. The honest truth of it, from your own mouth.”

“You’ll have it,” Wax promised. “Tomorrow.”

“But—”

“Governor,” Wax said. “I appreciate your position, but you have no idea what we’ve been through these last few days. My people need rest. Tomorrow. Please.”

Aradel grunted. “Fine.”

“Did you prepare the thing I requested?” Wax asked.

“It’s below,” Aradel said, turning back toward the airship. “In the penthouse.” The governor took a deep breath, looking at that enormous airship again. Constable-General Reddi had led a group of constables up to accept the transfer of prisoners.

Wax could now see that the ship had landed only half on the building. One fan spun lazily, keeping the ship in place. Likely done that way on purpose, he thought of the landing, as a message. The crew wants to remind us that while we might get this technology soon, we’ll still be many years behind them in its use.

“I think we’ll be fine,” Wax said to Aradel. “If the outer cities had thoughts about attacking us, I suspect this might stall them. Spread the knowledge that an airship flew through central Elendel and let me off—then left peaceably.”