CHAPTER 45: WHISPERED DEALS

  The list of racers had reached thirty-seven by the time the sailors of The Sapphire Spirit signed up for The Emerald Cup, sighing a heavy-hearted farewell to more money than they had ever possessed, however briefly. They should consider it a blessing that they’d entered when they had, Elias commented, given the race had a limit of forty racers. “A blessing,” Bertrand would inevitably reply, “or a curse.”

  The race would stretch across multiple rounds spread over two weeks, starting in three days from their present one. Some rules were relatively simple. There would be ten ships in each race, meaning round one would consist of four races. The first five to cross the finish line of each would progress to round two, essentially cutting the number of racers in half. Round two would follow this same logic, cutting twenty to ten. Finally, ten surviving airships and their hopeful crews would race for The Emerald Cup—and fifty thousand relics.

  Elias, Bertrand, and Briley were considerably more interested in the financial half of that prize. Glory was a currency for people like Edric Graystone.

  The race had other rules they hadn’t foreseen, however, introducing some unexpected, though not insurmountable, complications. For one, each ship was required to carry a crew of five people. No more and no less. Iric had agreed to join them with a single nod, but Briley was first to admit that Islet wouldn’t quality as a crew member, whether or not they felt otherwise (they did). Plus, the rules also stated that one of these five crew members had to be a mechanic. The Emerald Cup was a gauntlet of fast speeds, tight turns, and willful aggression. Engines were not immune to overheating, and hulls were not impervious to scrapes and cracks. While attacking fellow racers was a disqualifiable offense, a rule was only as enforceable as its visibility, and the route would take them out of plain sight. A retired racer at The Thirsty Eagle said their bullet-proof spider’s silk balloon would at least give them an edge.

  But one asset they did not yet have, and which they needed, was a mechanic. And so, departing from the deck of The Sapphire Spirit—it was a rather beautiful day, and they had taken the opportunity to discuss business in the sun—they wandered through the shadows of Lowtown toward the only two mechanics they knew.

  Mr. Mason’s Ship Repair and Other Services looked exactly as it had almost two years earlier, back when they’d been in desperate need of mechanical assistance, not to mention a place to hide a ship. But while the wooden hangar appeared just as slightly dilapidated as before and its business owner walked with the same cane and glared at them from the same single eye, his adopted daughter—Gabby, they recalled—had grown at least six inches.

  The girl seemed to recognize them first. “I remember you three,” she greeted them. Perhaps her confidence had grown as well.

  “Hello, Gabby,” Elias replied. “You’ve aged.”

  She shrugged. “Not really something I control. Does your ship require servicing? She was a nice one, if I recall.”

  “Not exactly,” he said. “Well, sort of.”

  She cocked an eyebrow as Jasper was slower to join them out front, though he held his tongue this time around, letting the girl speak for them.

  “What can we sort of do for you, then?” she asked.

  “I’ll get right to it. We signed up for The Emerald Cup,” Elias explained, “but the rules require that we add a mechanic to our crew. It’s the three of us and our colleague, Iric, at the moment. Our fifth and final crew member needs to be someone with your skill set. We didn’t know whom else to ask.”

  Gabby lit up a little, but Jasper could not help but intervene at this point. “The Emerald Cup?” he clarified. “You want my daughter to race in The Emerald Cup?”

  “It wouldn’t need to be her if you know someone equally qualified,” Briley added.

  “There is no man or woman in Lowtown equal to Gabby,” Jasper insisted. “Everyone knows that. I’m surprised you’re the first to ask, frankly. She gets overlooked because she’s young.”

  “Dad,” Gabby interrupted him, “I can speak for myself.”

  “Hmph.” Jasper leaned onto his cane and waved for her to do just that.

  Gabby Mason truly had grown up, or at least as much as any young teenager might. Elias recalled she was twelve when last they spoke and thought she looked about fourteen now. He did not know Gabby’s life story, but he knew she had ended up with Jasper, which meant her biological parents were likely either dead or deadbeats. They had this in common, his being the former.

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  And so, as she turned back toward them asking questions about compensation, Elias had every intention of making a fair offer. “When I was your age, I was earning a single relic a day,” he said, “but you’re more talented than I was back then, and we need you. Our offer is ten relics per race. There are three rounds, so the total will depend on how far we make it.”

  “And what’s the prize money if you win?” she inquired.

  “Fifty thousand relics,” Elias answered honestly, “but we are one of forty ships racing, and we’re already down five thousand. It was a steep entry fee.”

  Gabby considered this, tapping her narrow chin. She was a scrawny but lean teenager, about half a foot shorter than Elias—and a full foot shorter than Bertrand—which was likely as tall as she would get at her age. From some angles, she still looked very much like a curious child, but from others, Gabby seemed to add a few years. Maybe it was her grease-streaked, worldly complexion, or perhaps it was the confidence in her posture. Whatever it was, Jasper had raised the young woman well.

  “I’ll do it for free,” she said, relishing their surprise before adding, “but if we win, I want a cut. Five crew members and fifty thousand relics, you said. If we win, I want one-fifth. I want ten thousand.”

  Jasper beamed proudly beside her.

  “It’s not quite that simple,” Briley jumped in. “We paid the entry fee, and our airship is the only reason we can even enter the race. You may be one-fifth of our crew, but you’re less than one-fifth of what was required to enter. I mean no offense. Those are just the facts.”

  “I have a question.” Jasper finally stepped in. “Why enter this race? As you say, it costs a not-so-small fortunate for a slim chance at victory. That ain’t no investment. I know rich folk can afford to gamble away their earnings, but the last time you three came knocking, you couldn’t scrounge together a few hundred relics without me extending you a generous loan. We appreciate your repeat business, but am I missing something here, or are you all just stupid with relics? I mean no offense. Those are just the facts.”

  It was a valid if snarky question. On the one hand, they really had come a long way. These days, The Two Worlds Trading Company could amass three thousand relics in the time it once took them to earn three hundred. But Jasper was not wrong. Wealthier though they might be, they remained far from rich.

  Elias saw no reason to lie, and he suspected this old man would see through any falsehoods, besides. “We want to acquire a paper mill in the Broken Isles,” he said. “Briley here has a connection with the seller. Needless to say, we believe this acquisition could transform The Two Worlds Trading Company into a bigger, more profitable venture. But the only way we’ll have the relics to make that deal happen is if we win The Emerald Cup. I realize it’s still a gamble. I should mention Bertrand won our entry fee in a Sirens competition.”

  “I suppose that makes a bit more sense,” Jasper said. “Still a bit stupid, though.” He crossed his arms with another “Hmph,” then pulled Gabby aside and whispered something into her ear. Elias, Bertrand, and Briley exchanged uncertain if slightly hopeful looks.

  When they returned, Gabby spoke first. “No payment required, whether we win or lose.”

  They were very confused.

  “But if we do win,” she continued, “I get a ten percent stake in your company. Dad says you three probably own equal shares. A third each, that right?” Briley confirmed her accurate assumption with a hesitant nod. “So, you take thirty percent instead. I get ten.”

  “You would keep all your prize money to reinvest in the company,” Jasper added, “plus you add the best mechanic in Lowtown to your staff. That’s a win-win, I’d say.”

  “Ten percent is a lot,” Briley said first, though clearly they needed to have their own hushed huddle. After retreating fifteen feet back to consider this strange new proposal, the trio returned a minute later with a counteroffer. “Five percent,” Briley stated firmly. “Final offer.”

  Gabby turned to Jasper, read something in his gaze, and replied, “Deal.”

  In that moment, Elias was not sure whether they had just come to a clever arrangement or made a grievous mistake, though it all hinged on them winning The Emerald Cup. No risk, no reward. Same as it ever was.

  “Mr. Buckley will be here in thirty minutes,” Jasper told his daughter. “I can draft up the contract while you get back to work.”

  Before she went, Gabby shook each of their hands in turn. “I look forward to being in business with you,” she said properly.

  “If we win,” Bertrand clarified as she shook his hand last.

  As Gabby returned to the hangar, Jasper herded them through a separate side door, and in an ill-guided attempt to make conversation, Bertrand put forward a marketing suggestion: “Have you ever thought about dropping Other Services from Mr. Mason’s Ship Repair and Other Services? Might make the name a bit more memorable. Mr. Mason’s Ship Repair rolls off the tongue nicely.”

  Jasper shook his head almost violently as he flipped through piles of paperwork and a filing system that likely made sense to one man and one man only. “We provide other services.”

  “Perhaps that can be implied,” Bertrand said. “A name mustn’t capture every detail.”

  “I run a straightforward business for straightforward people. People who require other services.” He slapped down a piece of paper. “Now let’s draft this contract, shall we?”

  Two hours later and an hour longer than they thought it would take, they returned to The Sapphire Spirit to wrap up for the day and feed Islet dinner. Over beers in the great cabin, they celebrated the fact that they had at last satisfied every single onerous requirement on the racing commission’s rather long list. All they needed to do now was prepare and wait patiently. But as evening set in and Briley filed away Gabby’s unconventional contract, she whispered under her breath—just loud enough for Elias to hear on his way out—“I really hope we don’t regret this.”