Grinning, Archimedes folded Zenobia’s note. Of course his sister knew that taking time for a chat also gave someone the opportunity to carry out their threat—just as she knew that making Archimedes laugh was the easiest way to reassure him that the disappointed feelings she’d revealed weren’t a source of any suffering now. He didn’t doubt her resilience. Still, a visit wouldn’t be amiss. Fladstrand was only half a day’s flight from Port Fallow aboard most airships—and faster aboard a skyrunner. Automatically, his gaze went to the opposite side of the boardinghouse’s tiny attic room, where the afternoon sun streamed into the garret through a small window. Beyond the cracked pane lay a view of Port Fallow’s docks. Boats crowded the harbor, their tall masts and branching spars resembling a bare, wintry forest rolling gently over the water. Two dozen airships floated in the brilliant blue sky above them, their wooden cruisers suspended beneath white balloons, as if dangling from dense clouds.
