With the matter of the mysterious intruder settled, Cadryn set out to find the threat within the walls, for an entirely more unpleasant conversation. As it would happen, it wasn’t as long in coming as he’d expected. He ran into Felina in the Gardens, just outside the Respite.

“I thought you were staying in bed, Silence’s orders?” she asked, the way someone always does when they know, and disdain, the answer.

“So did your little friend, Grey,” Cadryn replied.

His grip tightened reflexively on the crossbow at the mien that darted over Felina’s features. “She’s fine,” he added. “I just warned her off coming back.”

“We had a deal worked out, you—“

“Covered for your ass,” he hissed leaning in, “Do you think Sefton would care about her boring life if I’d brought her in? Or you’re . . . whatever it is you have going.”

“I’m sorry,” Felina said, holding up her hands, “I, I loved stealing shit Cad, there, I said it. I can’t help myself. The thrill, almost nothing beats it,” her eyes fell to his waist, “Almost.”

“That’s nice,” he said, but before he could rush into another, potentially alienating, argument with a second attractive woman, a sound cut through the air, reverberating off the rooftop. A deep, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, the sound of vast wings. Head falling back, he saw the contraption.

It had wings, or was wings, it was hard to tell against the sun’s glare. But it was definitely a machine of some sort, not a living thing. It banked in between the towers of the Beacon and the Observatory, but the operator saw the thin wires, joining and supporting the spires of the Hanging Gardens, too late. A great rending filled the air as wood, fabric, and wires split, sparks in green and blue rained down as the magical investments that had given the machine motion shattered. In the moment of peace following the crash, a stream of curses echoed form within the tangled mess.

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“Well I’ll be,” Felina muttered.

“He’s alive,” Cadryn said, shocked.

“For now,” Felina said casually, then held up a hand, “I’m kidding, be back in a bit.” With that she began climbing the nearest trestles of the Lower Gardens.

The sound didn’t rouse any of the other members of the Night Shift, and only Gita came, she asked if they should tell Sefton and both determined that would only complicate matters. Felina managed to not only climb to the crash, but extract the pilot. True to her word, a short time later, the man was dangling from a rope tied off to one of the spires, falling, with a final shout, to the rooftops at Cadryn’s feet a moment later.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, embarrassed to not have thought of Silence’s arts sooner.

The middle-aged inventor rose to his full height, dusted himself off, and stuck out his hand. “Only my pride, Name’s Lark.” He looked up at the ruins of his flying machine, “Damn shame.”

Felina landed deftly nearby, gave the rope a snap, and it came tumbling down. Coiling it up, she bowed, “I’ve had enough fun with you people for one day, Good night.”

“But I just got here,” Lark said, confused, and then added as an aside “Do you think she knows its daytime?”

“She knows, sir,” now you’ve managed to crash into an Imperial Frontier Tower. I’m afraid I’ll have to escort you to the road.

“Nonsense!” Lark declared, “I’m an Imperial Alchemist and Engineer, I demand you take me whomever serves that capacity here.”

Happy to be rid of the problem, and having had enough of the Night Shift for one day, Cadryn took the weird little man to Korbinian. The two hit it off like old friends, and then, well, like more than that. Cadryn excused himself when Korbinian insisted Lark disrobe to check for injuries . . . and began to suspect the crash had not been an accident.

“That would explain why Felina was so nonplused about it, might not even be the first time,” he mused, walking back towards the toll house and his room. As he walked, the excitement just passed turned to other thoughts, Silence, and the other women who had shown interests, likely more genuine.

Laying in his bunk, thinking about them, his mind wandered . . . Amber, Mareth, Nine, though those last thoughts left him more confused and frightened than aroused.

A knock at the door startled him, eyes opening, he realized it was already night, and he’d drifted off.

“Who is it?” he asked.

“Who do you think?” Felina replied. “Can I come in, or would you rather just play with yourself?”

Cadryn had the door open before he could think of a witty reply.