The carpenter was the last of her meetings; a middle-aged man who blinked at her drawings and turned them this way and that, clearly trying to figure out what exactly the frame was for. She did not enlighten him. “Two days?” he asked.
“Two days,” Thessa confirmed.
“I’ll have an apprentice on this,” he grumbled.
“Do it yourself,” Thessa replied. “I don’t want a single delay.” She looked up to see Breenen approach from the lobby, his hands clasped behind him. When the carpenter scowled and looked toward him, he only nodded.
“I’ll get right on it, ma’am,” the carpenter said, excusing himself.
Thessa waited until he was gone to press her fingers against her eyes. “That’s the last of my meetings,” she told Breenen. “Thank you for setting them up. Every step I don’t have to oversee is more attention I can give to the crux of the project.”
“My pleasure, Lady Foleer.” Breenen bowed his head. “Two days? Is speed such a necessity?”
Thessa looked down at some of the notes she’d been writing between meetings. She shuffled the papers around absently, then turned them all upside down so no passing waiters could read the contents. Was speed a necessity? Kastora always told her that rushing a project only led to mistakes, paradoxically causing the project to take longer than it would have otherwise. And yet since the moment she awoke this morning she had felt a burning in her chest – a pressure to see the phoenix channel through with utmost haste.
Part of it was petty – she wanted to impress Demir next time he returned from the war – but the heart of the matter was more immediate. The riot yesterday had spooked her deeply. Every day that passed without a working phoenix channel was another day full of potential violence as godglass grew more difficult to obtain for the common people.
“Yes,” she finally answered Breenen. “Speed is necessary. This project has far more variables than normal godglass. Even once it has been built it may require months of testing and experimentation. I can’t afford to waste any time.”
“Very well. I’ll make sure the craftsmen stay on top of their work.” Breenen nodded and turned away.
“Do you ever think about your legacy?” she asked, the words coming out impulsively.
The concierge paused, looking over his shoulder at her. After a moment he turned back. “I’m the majordomo for a guild-family and a hotel concierge,” he said with half a smile. “Whatever legacy I leave behind will be a small one, quickly forgotten.”
Thessa laid her hand flat on her notes. She searched for the right words, digging into that pressure in her chest, knowing there was more to it than wanting to avoid violence. “This thing is all that I have left of Kastora. It’s his greatest work, and he didn’t even get the opportunity to perfect it or to share it with the world. That responsibility now lies on my shoulders. It is exciting and frightening all at once.”
Breenen was silent for several moments. “Acting in a master’s stead is a daunting task. More so when they are gone for good.” He lowered his eyes, and Thessa realized that Breenen’s loss of Adriana was only a week or two more removed than her own loss of Kastora. “Yet,” he continued, “ensuring a legacy is a legacy in and of itself. One that you or I or anyone who has lived in the shadow of greatness should take pride in. I know that will be my own legacy as a client of the Grappo.”
“What specific legacy do you wish to ensure?” Thessa asked.
“This is Ossa, and we are a small guild-family,” Breenen replied, cocking an eyebrow. “I only wish to ensure survival.”
“Is survival good enough? Shouldn’t we want to leave more to the world than that?”
“Sometimes survival is all we can handle. Is there anything else you need today, Lady Foleer?”
Thessa stared at nothing, contemplating Breenen’s words for some time before realizing he’d asked her a question. “I need to go shopping. Could I have a carriage in twenty minutes?”
“Of course.”
Thessa arrived at the Lampshade Boardwalk less than an hour later. It was a place she knew well from her forays into Ossa, either on her own or shopping on behalf of Kastora. It was also one of the few places she felt safe – too public for any mischief during the day, and well-patrolled by the Ossan National Guard. She directed her driver to drop her at one end and be prepared to pick her up from the other end in an hour. The war had started only eight days ago and yet she felt a massive sense of freedom – and of recklessness – walking out in the open, bumping shoulders with strangers as she browsed the merchandise of the glassworks suppliers.
She found better tools than those Demir provided almost immediately. Refined cindersand – the ingredient needed for omniglass – was much more difficult. It took her most of her hour to locate just a single pound of the stuff, and when she did the vendor refused to so much as pretend to haggle. Thessa paid what was asked. She knew that the prices were rising quickly, and she knew why.
Her final trip was into a bookstore, where she waited until the clerk had an open moment and came over to her, a salesman’s smile fixed on his mousy face. “Good afternoon, ma’am. Can I help you find something?”
“I’m looking for a scientific treatise,” she told him.
“Ah, a gentlewoman scholar?”
“Of a sort. A few months ago I read an article from a Marnish engineer on the potentials of petroleum as a heat source. Perhaps you read it?”
“Professor Volos, I believe?” the little clerk asked.
“That’s the one. I’d like to see whatever you have along those lines.”
“Yes, she’s rather brilliant. Especially popular with that new lightning rod of hers.”
“I haven’t heard of it.”
“Oh, you will!” The clerk went behind his counter and rummaged around beneath it. He began stacking books on the counter, speaking as he worked. “She’s figured out a very simple device for directing lightning from the top of a building, down through a … what did she call it … a grounding wire, and into the dirt. Absolutely ingenious. Architects all over the Empire have already started incorporating it into their designs. Her new book sells out as fast as I can stock it, but I think I have a couple copies left in the back. Would you like one?”
Thessa glanced at the titles he’d fetched for her. The Age of Coal. One Thousand Uses for Whale Oil. Lighting a City: The History of Gas in Ossa. There were thirteen books. She sifted through them judiciously, setting aside the histories and keeping anything that looked to run on the more technical side. “Sure.”
“I’ll go fetch you one.”
Thessa picked up one of the books she’d chosen and flipped through it. She wasn’t entirely certain she knew what she was looking for. Inspiration, perhaps? Hard data? The energy source would be her biggest challenge, and approaching it from several directions seemed like the best place to start. From there she could focus in on the most promising ideas. As she’d already told Breenen, the phoenix channel might require months of experimentation before it worked properly.
“Just the one copy left!” the clerk said, emerging from the back. “You’ll have all of these here, then?”
“I will, thank you.” Thessa paid the clerk and checked her pocket watch. Ten more minutes until her driver expected her. “Do you mind if I read here for a few minutes? I’m just waiting for my driver.”
“Be my guest, ma’am.”