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“They just work and die.”
    “Are you—” She laughed suddenly.
    “What?”
    “After all that making fun of me and my causes. You’ve got one, haven’t you?”
    “They—They sort of made me their leader.”
    “Why?”
    “I told them we might be able to make things better if we—umm—organized a little.”
    “Organized? You’re leading a
revolt
?”
    “I didn’t mean to,” he replied miserably. “I mean, they kind of got the idea from me when I stood up to an overseer, and then—well, I might have suggested that they make some maps for me.”
    “Maps?”
    “So I could find you. So we could escape.”
    “Oh. And now that we’re stuck here—”
    “They seem to expect me to follow through.”
    “Well, I guess they do,” she said. “Will you?”
    His pupils expanded and shrank, and then he nodded. “I think so,” he said. “It’s not right, how they live.”
    “You can think of it this way, too,” Annaïg told him. “The more of them you’ve got looking for ways to sabotage things, the more likely you’ll find some way to stop Umbriel altogether. That connection with the ingenium you told me about, for instance. We need to know more about that.”
    “Right,” he said, but he sounded a bit uneasy.
    “Glim,” she said, taking his chin between her fingers.
    “Yes?”
    “I’m glad you care about these people. I’m glad you found a cause. And if there is any way to save the skraws, I’m all for it. But if it comes down to them or our world—if all of these people and the two of us thrown into the bargain have to die to stop this thing—that’s what we have to do. You know that, don’t you?”
    He nodded, but there was an odd stiffness to it.
    “Look,” she said. “The kitchens are highly competitive, right? If the skraws raise enough ruckus, the lords may start looking for an alternative to the vapors. I’ve got one, ready to go. I just need Toel to ask me for it—understand?”
    “I understand,” Glim replied.
    “We’ll start there. But meanwhile you have to keep gathering information, okay? I mean, if I solve the problem of getting us off of this rock, maybe we can take your friends with us. The more information I have, the more alternatives that gives us.”
    “That makes sense,” Glim breathed. “I’ll see what I can do. But you—what about this woman who tried to kill you? Whatabout Toel? If what you say is true, and if he thinks you’re weak—I don’t want to find you in the sump one day.”
    “You have your situation to manage,” she said softly. “I have mine.”
    She hugged him and watched him go, but she felt troubled afterward, wondering if she and Mere-Glim were really on the same side anymore.

THREE

    A soft cough drew Colin from the papers massed on his desk. Intendant Marall stood a few feet from his table, hands clasped behind his back.
    Colin pushed his chair back and came to his feet.
    “Intendant,” he acknowledged.
    “Inspector,” Marall nodded. Then he just stood there.
    “Can I help you, sir?” Colin asked after the moment drew uncomfortably long.
    “I’m just wondering if you have anything to report.”
    Colin blinked.
    If I had anything to report I would have—he began thinking, but quashed it, lest it show on his face.
    “Not much, really, sir,” Colin said. “Is there something wrong?”
    “You received the latest interceptions.”
    “I did, Intendant,” he replied. “I still can’t find any connection between the Thalmor and this—flying city.”
    “And yet they must be up to something.”
    “Oh, yes, sir, they’re up to plenty,” Colin said. “Thalmoragents continue to harass the refugee communities in Sentinel and Balfiera—there has been a series of murders in the latter we can pretty confidently assign to them. The pattern is typical—the victims were all of mixed blood or had associations considered by the Aldmeri Dominion to be unclean. It’s much worse in Valenwood—our supplies are no longer reliably