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had the suspicion that your latest venture west would be fruitless, if not quite so catastrophic. Simply put, there is something that you can do for me to square your debt to the Sindacato, saving your skin and perhaps making a profit for once in your life."
    He turned in his chair and retrieved a sheaf of papers from a bookshelf, which he then rolled out upon the table. Grey hunted for a moment, then tapped a space at one side. "Here," he said.
    Fengel peered down over the map. Though dizzy, he made out a sketch of the Copper Isles and the Yulan continent. As he examined it, Thomas returned with a large platter which he set upon the edge of the desk before backing away discreetly.
    Fengel lost all interest in the map. The platter held a fine silver tea service with a steaming teapot, cups, a large pitcher of water, and several small plates stacked high with sweet biscuits. His mouth watered painfully at the sight of it.
    "Feel free to help yourselves," said Grey. "Now—"
    The financier fell silent as the trio descended upon the platter. Lina moved quickest, grabbing handfuls of biscuits and shoving them in her mouth. Fengel cursed her speed and found himself fighting with Henry over the pitcher of water. They tugged it back and forth until Henry seemed to remember himself and abashedly, yet regretfully, gave in to his captain.
    Fengel raised the pitcher to his lips then stopped, spying Mr. Grey out of the corner of his eye. Never let them see you stumble. He smiled, and with an effort took a teacup and filled it, which he immediately drank. Then he poured another. And then another.
    "At any rate," said Grey, eyebrow raised, "I have had a recent dispatch from Breachtown. The H.M.S. Albatross has gone missing with all hands en route to Triskelion. The vessel was carrying a large number of very valuable items, but most of all a gemstone, big as two fists, carved of a luminous and unknown material."
    Fengel paused in pouring himself another cup of water, and Henry wrenched the pitcher from him. "Gemstone?"
    "Yes. A recent find, known as the Governor's Lantern. I want you to attain it for me. Now. I have paid a pretty sum for an aetherite divination, and that augury seemed to indicate that the ship had run aground here, in the south-western coastline, along the mouth of the little-known Silverpenny River. Take whatever treasures you can find from the wreck, but the gemstone is mine. Return it to me and I will clear your debt to the Sindacato. Oh, one other thing. The Lantern may be cursed."
    "Cursed?" asked Fengel, one eyebrow raised.
    "Possibly. At any rate, that isn't my problem. We have an accord, and I'm not taking no for an answer. You've much to do, and I as well. Take the map. A description of the gemstone is attached."
    Fengel felt flustered. "But I haven't got a ship anymore."
    Grey looked bored. "Also not my problem. Thomas! Please see Captain Fengel out." The financier rolled up the map and handed it across the table to him, along with another sheaf of paper. "Oh, and Captain Fengel? One more thing."
    Fengel blinked. "What?"
    Grey suddenly looked anything but mild. He met Fengel's eyes and held them. "This is your final chance. No more loans, no more time. Return with the gemstone. There is no other option. You can not hide from the Sindicato. And you cannot fight them. Bring me the Lantern. If you don't, we will be taking your head instead." He held his gaze another moment, then looked down at his ledger.
    The three of them were escorted outside, Lina gulping down a cup of hot tea and Henry shoving sweet biscuits into his pockets. Fengel tried to regain his composure. The Sindicato were dangerous, but he'd always believed that he could deal with them. Now, with Grey's threat hanging in his ears, he didn't seem so certain. He tapped the rolled up map to his chin and strolled down the ramp to the boardwalk. Halfway down he stopped, frowning. What am I going to do?
    "Oh sir," said Henry, through a mouthful of sweet