“Well, you seem to have a knack for stirring up hornets’ nests,” Miranda said, stepping outside. “I’ve been bringing fighters to Marcus for years; never once have I seen a new fighter face a pyro burst or an attempted murder.”
Dellen laughed but cut it short when his ribs protested. “Yes, well, did any of the others make bets like I did?”
Miranda released her own longer laugh. “No, I’ve never seen anyone make a bet that big.”
Dellen patted his satchel, “I’m sure it happens more than you think. They’d have been quite happy with me if I’d lost or died.”
“If you’d died, there would have been an inquiry.”
“Not likely; I’m sure they’d have pitched my body off the side of a cog and made sure no one was around to see me fall.”
Miranda’s gaze turned in the direction of the outer spinning edge of the cog before she spoke. “What are you going to do next?”
“I’m going to pitch my body off the side of a cog and make sure no one is around to see.”
They continued in silence for perhaps ten seconds.
“What?” Miranda said at last.
“I’m going to help Finnegan buy an airship so that we can try and map the chasm.”
“Why would you want to map the chasm?” Miranda said, her voice rife with confusion.
“Look at all of this,” Dellen said, pointing around him. They’d come out of a tight alley, and they could see the ever-moving skyline in the distance. Buildings moving left, right, even up and down. “Why would anyone build something this complicated over an enormous pit? There has to be something down there. Something interesting, and I want to find it.”
Miranda shook her head. “Whatever’s down there is best left alone.”
“Fascinating,” Gilgamesh said. “More of that same aversion. I wonder how many citizens react this way without questioning it.”
“There’s a reason why no one explores down there,” Miranda said.
“And that reason is?” Dellen replied with open curiosity.
“Well, it’s dangerous,” Miranda said in a tone that suggested she was trying to convince herself rather than Dellen.
“I didn’t, and still don’t, take you to be someone frightened off by a little adversity.” Said Dellen, “I’ll be going down within the next day or so.” He winked at her. “I’ll let you know if I discover anything interesting.”
Miranda opened her mouth as though to say something else and closed it again. She looked thoughtful.
Dellen hailed a pair of carriages.
“Don’t worry,” Dellen said with a grin, “For some reason, I feel good about this.”
He tipped his head at her, paid for his fair, and hers, in advance.
“Northcote Estates.” He told the driver before stepping aboard a small vessel with the passenger compartment separate from the driver’s area.
“What do you think?” He said to Gilgamesh. “What will we find down there?”
“I’m not sure, but I think you’re being too casual about it.”
“After surviving and winning a boxing match, I think I can be casual about what comes next.”
“You died five times.” Gilgamesh said, “I’m not convinced that counts as surviving.”
“Sometimes you need to work with the tools you have at hand.” He shrugged, “Now come on, aren’t you even a little curious about what’s down there?”
“I am,” Gilgamesh admitted.
“Well then, I’m going to get some sleep,” he patted his satchel, “In the morning, I’m headed to the Artificer’s Anvil.”
The morning saw a freshly cleaned, only slightly injured Dellen stepping into the Artificer’s Anvil. He noticed the unusual quietness that seemed to envelop the place. Morning sunlight filtered in through the workshop’s windows casting a soft flow on the machinery and tools scattered throughout the room. The familiar scent of oil and metal filled the air.
He scanned the room for Finnegan. The young artificer was hunched over a workbench, tinkering with a small, intricate device.
Dellen tried to catch his attention without startling him. “Good Morning Finnegan,” Dellen said.
“Do I know you?” Finnegan looked at him in confusion. “I’ve heard that you might be interested in exploring the chasm.”
Finnegan’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped before he caught himself.
Dellen hid a smile; perhaps there was some fun to be had from loop to loop.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“How do you know about that?” Finnegan said, at last, then he frowned, “Are you here to mock me?”
Dellen leaned in as though to share a guarded secret, “I want to explore under Copperopolis and the chasm below.” He hid another smile as Finnegan’s eyes widened again at the statement.
“Ah, ah, when do you want to go? Do you need crew?”
“Today, I’m just shopping for an airship, but I’d like to go soon,” Dellen said. “Now, tell me about preparing for an expedition like that, I was thinking of making a frame for the excursion. Do you have any thoughts?”
Finnegan nodded twice. Dellen could see him actively focusing his thoughts. “First and foremost, you’ll want something for durability. If you get injured and can’t make your way back, then it’s essentially a death sentence. I’d want to make heavier-duty than usual frames where you might still be able to move, even with broken bones. Of course, your external Aether control would need to be up to that task, and most people struggle with that.” He looked downtrodden, “In fact, my Aether would not be enough to use a frame, I had to abandon the idea.”
Dellen nodded his understanding. His Aether was thin, he suspected that he too would struggle to supply a frame.
“We’d also want multiple redundant light sources. We know it’s going to be dark, even worse than an injury; darkness could be the enemy.”
“What about airships?” Dellen said. “Have you come across any suitable for such an expedition?”
Finnegan’s expression turned apologetic. “Unfortunately, I haven’t found the right one yet, but I have a few suggestions on where we could look.”
Dellen nodded for him to continue.
“There’s the Skydock Market on Cog Six. It’s a hub for buying and selling airship parts. Another option is to check Amos’s Shipwrights on Athol, and lastly, we could try the Black Iron Bazaar on the Shadowspindle Cog. It’s a bit of a riskier option, given its reputation, but you might find something useful there if you’re willing to take a chance.”
Dellen felt a strange allure toward the Shadowspindle Cog, but given the early hour, he thought they might have better luck there later in the day. He decided it would be best to start with Amos’s Shipwrights.
“Would you be willing to join me for a walk about the city?” He said.
Finnegan looked at his workbench before him. “Well, I have this commission.” A war between curiosity and responsibility clear in his tone.
Dellen held out his hand and handed him a one hundred sovereign bar. “Perhaps you would accept a consultant’s fee?”
The quietness of the early morning allowed them to appreciate details that Dellen often missed amidst the daily bustle. The sun had just begun to rise, casting a golden hue over the interconnected cogs and gears of Copperopolis.
Upon reaching Amos’s Shipwrights, they were greeted by the sight of impressive airships of varying sizes, shapes, and designs. Despite the early hour, workers were already busy preparing for the day, checking the rigging, testing engines, and performing routine maintenance. Dellen’s eyes scanned the area, looking for anything that might suit their needs.
“I think that’s Amos,” Finnegan said with a pointed finger and a whisper.
They approached the owner, Amos, a middle-aged man with a friendly smile. Amos turned to look at them when they were a few feet away. “Ah, Lord Northcote, such a pleasure to see you again. What brings you to my fine establishment at such an early hour? Do you perhaps want another specialty craft or some unusual modifications made?”
Amos extended a hand in greeting.
Dellen was caught off guard; this was the first time someone outside the Northcote Estates remembered him. However, he hid his surprise and shook the outstretched hand with a polite smile. “Good to see you too, Amos; it has been some time, hasn’t it?”
Dellen glanced at Finnegan, who was staring at him wide-eyed.
Amos nodded, his eyes twinkling. “Indeed, it has. I remember you from when you came by with your father a few years back. You were just a young lad then.” He looked around. “Time flies almost as fast as my ships.” He said with a chuckle.
“It seems your memory is still just as good as your craftsmanship, which is why we’re here.”
Amos rubbed his hands together. “Marvellous; I do like to start the day with a sale. What are you looking for?”
“We need a small airship that can take us below the city.” Said Dellen.
Furrowed brows stared back at him. “Why would you want to go under the city?”
“We have our reasons. It’s important we find a ship for the task. I don’t want to have to climb down the walls.”
Amos shuddered. “Sounds unpleasant; I hope I never set foot on steady ground.”
Dellen paused a moment and thought about it. He hadn’t set foot on steady ground, ever. The city was always moving. The slow spin of the cogs was something you adjusted to without even thinking about it. Ground that stayed still seemed somehow unnatural. The only ‘still’ ground he’d walked on was when he and Toby raced across a broken cog.
Amos sighed, bringing Dellen back to the present. “I understand, but I must advise against it. The chasm is treacherous and should be avoided.” He shook his head at them. “No, I’m sorry; I’m quite sure that I don’t have a ship that will suit your needs.”
Dellen glanced at Finnegan and glanced back at Amos. “Could we look around and see if perhaps you have anything we might still like?”
Amos glanced at a clock on the wall. “No, no. I’m sure I’d remember if I had anything like that.”
“I don’t recall you describing what you were looking for in detail,” Gilgamesh said.
“Now, I simply must be back to my workers.” Amos glanced all about the building. “Delicate tasks happening right now. Prone to error if left unsupervised.” He got up. “I trust you can see yourselves out.”
“So,” Finnegan said once Amos was out of earshot. “Lord Northcote?”
“Nice to meet you,” Dellen said.
“You didn’t think that was worth mentioning?”
“I didn’t want to deal with you being worried about planning an expedition with a lord.”
“Why the rush?” Finnegan said. “Surely a noble house could outfit a lavish expedition.”
Dellen laughed. “You know. I suspect that most people think their lives would be simpler if they were nobles, and they’re wrong; the complications are just different.” He pointed down. “In any case, I find myself without much in the way of free time, and in some ways, my hands are forced each time I wake.” He shook his head, “I wonder if I’m the least free man in the city.”
“I doubt that very much,” Finnegan said in a light voice.
Dellen held up a hand to forestall further comment. “Let’s look at the Skydock Market; we may have better luck there.”
Finnegan glanced at the skyline. “We need to be quick, the Skydock Market will be nearby soon, but we need to hurry, otherwise, it will be a much farther walk.”
Talking off at a quick walk, Finnegan led Dellen through the winding streets, easily navigating the ever-changing cityscape.
They crossed over a long but narrow iron bridge. Part of its span took them over a cog set deeper than most, a full fifty-foot drop to get down.
When they reached the halfway point, the bridge began to move, rotating to align with a new exit on the opposite side. The sensation was both thrilling and disorienting, but Finnegan seemed unfazed.
Further, down the path, they encountered a magnificent building that appeared to defy gravity, its various sections seeming to levitate and rearrange themselves in a mesmerizing dance of gears and pulleys. The building’s purpose was unclear to Dellen, but it drew a crowd of watchers.
Finnegan led Dellen over another bridge and into the entrance of a round building, remarkable for its size, walls stretching from one side of the cog to the other. Just through the entrance, the Skydock Market came into view.