Ranami showed me and my guards to my rooms, and I reserved the room next to mine for Jovis. The palace wasn’t what I’d expected, despite my envoy’s reports. Although the paintings and murals were elaborate to the point of being gaudy, the furniture was simple, the hallways bare.

An odd place, where the governor considered herself humble, her wife had once been a gutter orphan, and even the palace had been stripped.

“I’ll let you rest,” Ranami said, “and we can speak of Nephilanu’s support for Imperial at dinner, as well as the state of the Empire.”

I wouldn’t like what she had to say, I could already tell. There was something prickly about Ranami, and I suspected much of it had to do with who I was. I wasn’t sure how to gain her respect, though I thought I might need it if I was to win over Phalue.

I took the time to bathe and to read. The books I’d brought with me from my father’s laboratory were filled with observations, notes scratched into the margins.

I skimmed, looking for mentions of islands sinking. I didn’t find any, but stopped at a passage that hinted at it.

Fifty years ago, my grandfather hypothesized on the islands’ stability. They quake – all islands quake – but they stay afloat.

His grandfather. There was a book that contained the notes Shiyen had taken when power had transferred from his mother to him. There must be a book that had his mother’s notes from her predecessor’s lectures.

I sifted through the books in my chest, their spines and covers blank. The second book I found that was not in Shiyen’s handwriting proved to be the correct one. Did she mention anything about the islands’ stability?

Outside, a light pattering of rain had begun, the overcast skies threatening heavier fare. Steam still rose from the bath Phalue’s servants had drawn in my room. I curled my feet below me on the cushion and searched for any mention of stability.

My father thinks the witstone forms a sort of scaffolding, that it is what keeps the islands afloat. Witstone moves our ships; why would it not also move the islands? Pure conjecture.

The last bit was sharply written and underlined. It seemed I was not the only one with a complicated parental relationship.

But something Shiyen had seen or researched had convinced him this wasn’t just conjecture. He’d shut down mining on Imperial. I picked up another of his book of notes and read, looking for information I could use. He’d been busy in his time below the palace. The pool in that cave had special properties, he’d claimed. As did Thrana.