“Where have you been?” Gilgamesh said. “You missed an entire reset! Do you have any idea how scared I’ve been? Stuck here on my own?” His voice was one step removed from hysteria.

Dellen ignored him and watched Copperopolis spin by.

His heart was speeding up rather than slowing down. He bent, wrapping his fingers around the railing, taking deep breaths.

He closed his eyes and focused on the beating of his heart; it thrummed in his chest.

Dellen waited.

Minutes passed.

He felt his pulse slow.

“What were you saying?” He said to Gilgamesh.

“Where have you been?” This time around, Gilgamesh sounded only slightly unhinged.

“I went under the city, found sabotage, Tristan abandoned me, I found saboteurs, ended up trying to steal their airship, failing, and was eaten by a Steam Squid.” Dellen gave it some thought. “Yeah, I think that’s a pretty succinct summation. “Oh, wait, no, I also learned that Thaddeus is the one who hired the saboteurs. That seems important too.”

Gilgamesh was quiet for so long that Dellen turned away from the skyline to check on him. “You don’t have anything to say to that?”

“How long has it been since you’ve seen me, from your point of view?” Gilgamesh asked, his voice calm, but with a tone of underlying confusion.

“I’m not sure, maybe eight hours?”

“I haven’t seen you in eight days.”

Dellen stared at him. “Eight days?”

“You left to explore under the city, and you never came back. There was the attack, the city broke, a new loop started, where you didn’t show up on this balcony, the loop started as usual and then ended abruptly, and now, here we are on this balcony together.”

Dellen drummed his fingers on the balcony railing. “That’s odd. I don’t know what to make of it. You’re sure that I wasn’t there?”

Gilgamesh’s reply came in the most caustic tones that Dellen had ever heard from him, “Yes, Dellen, I am sure that you weren’t there.”

Dellen held up a hand in apology, “Sorry, I just can’t understand how that’s possible.”

“Did anything else happen to you while you were under the city?”

“I was killed and probably eaten,” Dellen said, “That was after we escaped something living under the city that emits fear.” He shivered. “I’d be happy never to explore under the city again.”

“How far under the city?”

“More than a mile.”

“I don’t think that’s it; anything else?”

Dellen brightened, “I forged myself; most of my body, only my head and neck were still fully organic.”

“How did you do that?”

“The first time it happened, I was trying to deactivate an Aetheric Infuser, and I touched the central support of a cog. I was flooded with Chronometric Aether.”

Gilgamesh made a disgusted noise. “We’re discussing how you might have vanished from a time loop, and it didn’t occur to you to volunteer that you were caught in a surge of Chronometric Aether? You didn’t think that had any bearing on the situation?”

“Ah,” Dellen said, feeling his face flush.

“Yes. Ah.”

“I touched the pillar twice. If your theory is correct, shouldn’t that have pushed me forward twice? You said I only went missing for one time loop.”

“It’s Chronometric Aether!” Gilgamesh said. “In large concentrations, it disrupts the linear flow of time, and you think it should move forward with the same predictability as a children’s math problem?”

“There is an order to everything,” Dellen said.

“If there is an order to Chronometric Aether it will take a finer mind than yours to find it,” Gilgamesh said.

Dellen waved the comment away. “This is getting offensive, and it’s missing an important point. The saboteurs were hired by Thaddeus. What do I do about that? Why would one of the pillars of the Aetheric Cultivators attack the city and blow up airships across the city?”

There was a knock on the balcony door. “My lord, are you alright out there?”

Dellen opened the door. “Thank you, Maisy, I am well. Was there something?”

She looked from side to side on the balcony. “Yes, my lord, Stefan is looking for you.”

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“I’ll visit him in his study shortly.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Maisy withdrew.

Dellen let himself into his father’s study. “That was just three days into the loop; they were already planting Aetheric Infusers on the city’s support network. There might be some in place already. I thought I might have the week to stop this; now I think it’s worse than that. I think I have until the end of the day, if I’m lucky.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“I don’t know,” Dellen said. “It’s a complicated enough problem to solve for both myself and Thaddeus. Thaddeus needed to find a way to sabotage the city, and make sure there would be no suspicion on him from the fallout. He also needed to find underlings who would be willing to attack the city.”

“Why would anyone want to destroy the city they live in?” Gilgamesh said. “This may be a backwater town, but it doesn’t look like a terrible place to live, especially if you’ve never seen any place better.”

Dellen rolled his eyes, “Stop insulting my home.” He narrowed his eyes. “Wait. You might have a point.”

“I do?”

“Eliza complained about it; in her words, living here is like living in a jar. Books let her ‘look’ outside, but she was stuck here. How much worse would it be for someone like Thaddeus? He said that he had been cultivating Electrical Aether for three hundred and fifty years.” Dellen nodded to himself. “Three hundred and fifty years of feeling trapped in one place. He probably isn’t of noble birth, meaning the Mercantile Guild probably wouldn’t give him a noble’s rate.”

“He couldn’t save up the funds over centuries?” Gilgamesh said.

Dellen frowned. “You’re right. Given his rank, he should have been able to slowly save enough money. Given enough time, he should have been able to leave on his own.” Dellen mouthed his own words, repeating the end of his sentence, “On his own.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Every time I forge myself, he lambastes me for being reckless, how I’m endangering the young Aetheric Cultivators by setting a bad example. What if he isn’t willing to leave them behind? Even Tristan told us how much he wants to see the world beyond Copperopolis.”

“So he kills them in explosions?”

“I’ll admit that doesn’t make much sense.” Dellen said, “Though we never confirmed that everyone was aboard the airship. What if they aren’t? What if he finds a way to keep his people safe during the attack? What if he wants them to have a compelling reason to leave after the attack?”

“So what if he does? We still have the same problem.” Gilgamesh said with quiet intensity. “How does attacking the city help anyone leave?”

Dellen drummed his fingers in thought. “I don’t know.”

“What are you going to do about it today?”

Dellen waggled his fingers. “At the very least, I am going to forge myself again. I would never have learned as much as I didn’t before I was, well, never mind, if I hadn’t forged my hands before I went under the city.” He considered his brief fight with Nessa, “I probably also owe Miranda a thank you. Pity she doesn’t remember me.”

“It’s a pity you don’t know who your friends are. You might know someone who could help you.” Gilgamesh said.

Dellen brightened. “Doesn’t Stefan have a stack of invitations for me somewhere in his office? Maybe it’s time I attended a soiree.”

“Just stay close this time,” Gilgamesh said. “Starting these loops without you is disconcerting.”

“It’s good to see you too; I’ve gotten used to having you around, commenting on everything over my shoulder.”

Gilgamesh emitted a discontent grumble.

Dellen didn’t hide his laugh and instead led them through the estate and to Stefan’s office. He knocked on the door as he opened it. “Good afternoon Stefan.”

Stefan looked up, allowing his eyebrows to betray the faintest hint of surprise. Clearing his throat, he said, “My lord, I’m glad to have the opportunity to speak with you finally. Trying to catch you between your… exploration of the estates has been difficult.”

“Ah, yes. I haven’t felt quite myself since I came home.”

“Of course, my lord.” Stefan nodded. “However, as your steward, it is my duty to keep you apprised of the state of Northcote Industries and your family’s finances. There are pressing matters that require your attention.”

“Yes, we require several hundred thousand sovereigns to make the estate solvent again, correct?”

Stefan’s forehead wrinkled in surprise. “My lord is… surprisingly well informed.”

“Thank you. I believe I was neglecting my duties as heir, but I’m here, and I’m ready. As I understand it, my father invested in several ill-favored ventures, and we have exhausted our credit with the banks.”

“That is an accurate summation,” Stefan said.

“How unfortunate,” Dellen murmured. “In any case, I believe a visit to Northcote Industries is in order. With my father’s passing, no doubt predators are looking to take our best minds. I need to patch the leaks in the ship and find us the funds.”

Stefan bore the expression of a man bewildered by what he was hearing. “Yes, my lord, when would you like to go to the offices?”

“Can it be arranged for tomorrow morning? I have an appointment this afternoon that I cannot miss, and I believe you have a stack of social invitations I need to attend to. If we can’t borrow from the banks, perhaps we can borrow from high society.”

Stefan’s reply was polite, but short on optimism. “Your father didn’t have much luck amongst his peers.”

“Perhaps I will succeed where he did not. At the very worst, they will give me the same answers they gave him.” Dellen held out his hand, “The invitations, if you please.”

Stefan held out a startlingly thick stack of invitations.

“It appears a death in the family does make one popular,” Dellen murmured. “Oh,” he looked back at Stefan, “Will you send someone to arrange a carriage on the roof for me?” He returned to the envelopes, “Let’s see what we have here.”

Still standing in the room with Stefan, he opened the envelopes.

The first invitation was a heavy, cream-coloured envelope embossed with a quill crossed with a sabre. Opening it, he saw that it was the seal of House Leopold. The invitation was for a private dinner meant for close friends and influential individuals, however, the date had passed.

Dellen discarded the letter. “Perhaps send my regrets to this one,” he said.

The second invitation was sleek and minimalistic, made from thick dark paper. Silver ink glimmered on the invitation for a charity auction hosted by House Bellamy… set for the next week.

An envelope of royal blue bore a gold embossed crest, House Vander, he saw. His eyebrows went up in interest, an invitation to a horse race. “You don’t often see horses in the city he said.”

“Ah,” Stefan chuckled, “The conceit of House Vander. Yes, your father often used to attend their annual events.”

Dellen nodded, “Let’s keep that one and see how my week shapes up. Maybe someone will want to gamble on House Northcote.”

He tore open a light gray envelope, bearing the crest of a nautical ship sailing on waves. “Do houses never update their crests?” He wondered aloud.

“Not in my lifetime, my lord.”

“A day of yachting in the pond on their estate.” Dellen tapped his chin. Tempting if not for the date, three days hence.

He came to a vibrant red envelope thick; the paper felt expensive. The seal was a lion rearing up on its hind legs. Dellen frowned down at it. He’d seen that somewhere recently. His brow furrowed. He’d seen it with Eliza, on the door of the Lockridge estate. He opened the envelope; the invitation was handwritten in an elegant script; he scanned the card detailing the annual Lockridge Gala, taking place that night.

Lady Lockridge had been able to see Gilgamesh.

Dellen nodded, holding up the invitation for Stefan to see. “Please send a note confirming that I will attend, with a guest.”