The six were in the old High Labyrinth Office’s main room, as their former manager Fleming was slowly pulling out the old board notices.

“What will happen to the headquarters?” Jonas asked.

“No idea what the Duke’s heir will do. The young Charles is not of age anyway. Nominally, it’s his. But the Office was a tool for waging future war, and war is off the menu for more than a few years. Besides, Charles so far seems disinclined to follow in his father’s footsteps. And the insistence of those ‘High Tiers’ on lifting any legal limitations on Professionals means most other companies face the same problems of losing teams, if only for different reasons. I suspect the good companies may survive, even with the legal nobility monopoly lifted.”

“Lots of independents. Odhran will be happy,” Ira noted.

“What about you?” Jonas asked.

“I’m not much of an adventurer. I’ll take a year or two of retirement… see how things shake up. But yes, most of the teams will go independent for a while. You?”

Jonas considered carefully their options. He looked at the rest of the team.

“I guess we can keep pushing. Whether it’s under the Wellesley banner or not. And besides, we do have a fistful of debts to pay off first.”

“You’ll have us for a while,” Guss said, before adding sheepishly, “Laura and I have discussed this for some time…”

“Your cousin’s wife said she had to clobber him on the head or something. Did you need to use your hammers, Laura?” Jonas said, smiling.

“No, not really. It was more of a… priority issue, I guess. I mean, I worked at my old cloth mill to get enough dowry money to get me a good husband someday, and I got one for free, so I could afford to wait a bit.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“And we still have time. Being immortal means we can have kids whenever we want, actually. Next year, next century, whatever. So, no. You can count on us for a while… as long as you all come to the wedding, that is,” Guss said.

“As if we would miss it,” Ira snorted.

Alton took a cue.

“I still want the freedom to be myself. The Labyrinth gave me that long ago. And friends, which is something that’s hard to get when you’re from Jacob’s Island. No French assassins, no Chinese warlords, no noble’s binding contracts, and five good people? It’s paradise. Count me in.”

“As long as we don’t have to deal with the French, I’m fine,” Jonathan said, grumbling.

“The treaty terms are a tough pill to swallow by Bonaparte, and…”

“And he and his lackeys get away with it. I know. Better some peace than endless war. Don’t have to like it. I just draw the line at associating with the French.”

“Those two are heading back to the depths sooner or later. Too much of a difference in levels for now to stay around Earth-113. And besides, they’re not responsible for the Dominion…”

“Oh, I know. But they still think of Bonaparte as their Consul.”

“We’re not going to cross their path for two or three decades. At least.”

“And that’s good enough for me,” Jonathan said with a weary finality.

“So… you’re pushing still,” Fleming said.

“I guess we are,” Jonas acknowledged.

“Of course we are. One or two decades at worst, and we can survive the trip to grab a Recall to their so-called nexus zone. The crossings of all kinds of worlds. Of all Earths. That, I want to see,” Ira said.

Fleming looked at the defender incredulously.

“It’s centuries until we can get to that end-game of theirs. Their Wall. In the meantime… think of all the Earths we can visit. Didn’t you hear some of those even have people who fly above Earth itself? Not just skyships, but to the Moon and beyond. Those are not weird zones, they’re… just around us. I want to see them all.”

“And you, Jonas?” Laura asked before anyone else could ask.

Jonas thought back at the pinch in his heart, where the feelings he hadn’t entirely realised had been there had been squeezed out by the truth, and an entirely unapologetic Sylvia.

“England… well, this Earth-113 England is my home. But… like all of us, the Labyrinth is my destiny I think. I don’t know what I’ll do. But I think… it’s only in there I’ll find out what. One day at a time.”

Ira slammed him on his shoulder.

“It’s always one day at a time. Mundane or Professional. Only fools know what their future will be.”