“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.”

“We have initial treaties in place, Your Honor,” Steris added. “Favorable to us for trade. That should give the hawks pause, and could buy us time to smooth things over.”

“Yes, perhaps,” Aradel said. “It’s going to be a tough metal for the Senate to swallow though, Ladrian. Not the airship itself, but the fact that I’m—apparently—just going to let it fly off.” He hesitated. “I haven’t told them what you said about the other item.”

“Bands of Mourning?” Wax said.

Aradel nodded, too politic to say what Wax was certain he was thinking. What have you gone and done to me this time, Ladrian?

“MeLaan?” Wax asked. “Would you mind taking over here?”

“Sure,” she said, striding toward them. She wore an outfit borrowed from the Southlanders, a man’s breeches and boots that went up to midcalf. She rested an arm on the governor’s shoulder.