“Vaktar, could you navigate us to Eldros once we clear the tower?” I asked.

  “Yes, my lord,” Vaktar replied, his tone steady though I could see the glint of anticipation in his eyes.

  The Enterprise shuddered slightly as the massive doors of the tower’s flight chamber began to open, groaning with a sound like ancient stone scraping against steel. A flood of morning sunlight poured across the bridge, spilling over polished brass consoles and crystal dials. The airship rose smoothly, with the hum of its engines echoing through the deck plates like the heartbeat of some great beast.

  When the doors reached their full height, the blue sky stretched out before us. Slowly and deliberately, the Enterprise moved forward, leaving the tower behind. I felt the subtle shift in weight as her hull crossed the threshold, the vast chamber shrinking away behind us. Then, with a final metallic clang, the tower’s doors sealed shut once again, locking away everything familiar.

  Vaktar leaned over the navigation console, his hands moving smoothly as he set the course for Allyson. “Heading set for Eldros,” he confirmed.

  The ship responded smoothly, turning in a slow, sweeping arc until her nose pointed eastward. Engines grew louder as we picked up speed, the city fading below us. Once we reached a steady cruising altitude, the hum settled into a reassuring rhythm, smooth, calm, and confident.

  I stepped away from the command dais, pausing in the corridor just beyond the bridge. “Allyson,” I said quietly, “lock off the bridge. Access only to me, my wives, Vaktar, and you.”

  “Yes, master.”

  Once Vaktar left the bridge, a muted chime sounded, and behind us, a reinforced door smoothly slid into place with a solid thunk. Its seamless panels shone in the soft glow of the corridor lights, with no handle or seam visible. To anyone else, the bridge had simply vanished.

  I exhaled slowly, tension easing from my shoulders. “Thank you.”

  I headed to the ship’s galley, where passengers sat at tables with cups and plates, enjoying snacks. The long windows along the hull let in rays of sunlight, casting glimmers across brass fixtures and polished wood. The space felt lively, filled with the murmur of conversation, the clatter of china, and the steady hum of the engines beneath our feet.

  “Earl, what a vessel,” Arch Mage Veralt said as soon as I stepped inside. His aged eyes gleamed, sharper than they looked at first glance. “This is unlike the other airships.”

  “Thank you, Arch Mage,” I replied, inclining my head as I moved toward his table. “From what I’ve gathered, the other airships are simple transports. This one is… what the records call a tower yacht.”

  The word still tasted strange on my tongue. I’d spent the last few nights reading fragments of half-decayed logs in the Tower archives, enough to understand that these vessels weren’t just machines but symbols. A collaboration of disciplines, with each part of the ship requiring craftsmanship from smiths, mages, enchanters, and engineers. It was the kind of project that only came together when all the great minds of an age collaborated. Each tower master would go to great lengths to outshine other tower mages in the luxury of their yachts.

  “Truly amazing,” Veralt said softly, his gaze traveling the length of the galley before snapping back to me.

  I smiled faintly, but inside I couldn’t shake the feeling that the old mage wasn’t just admiring the ship; he was judging it. Judging me.

  “I agree, sir. Truly amazing.” I lowered myself into the seat across from him. A steward moved smoothly beside me, setting down a steaming cup of tea and a plate of food before I even spoke. The Arch Mage’s eyes flicked to the golem in her crisp uniform, following her as she glided away without so much as a clatter.

  “They anticipate,” Veralt murmured. “Like they’ve done this for you a hundred times before.”

  “This vessel is in essence an extension of the Tower,” I said with a shrug, though I didn’t miss the weight of his stare. I didn’t want to tell them about my connection to the tower. I stirred the soup before me, letting the warmth roll up into my face. “Arch Mage, there is something I hoped you could help me with. My maps of Eldros are badly out of date. The ones that were in the libraries of the tower were a few hundred years old,” Veralt laughed at that. “Is there a place I could obtain newer ones?”

  “Maps…” His mouth curled slightly as if savoring the word. “Ah, yes. I can see where that could be a problem. Eldros has undergone significant changes over the last few decades. Leave it to me; I will arrange what you need.”

  “Thank you.” I nodded, taking a small sip of the broth. “And perhaps we might have a longer talk as well? There’s much I’d like to understand about all this.”

  His lips stretched into a thin smile. “I would like that very much, Earl Robertson. After dinner, perhaps. The lounge. We’ll have the night and no shortage of subjects.”

  “That sounds perfect,” I replied, pushing myself up from the table. “But for now, I think I’ll take a few hours’ rest. I was up early getting things ready for our departure.”

  Veralt inclined his head, eyes still sharp as blades even as he smiled warmly. “Rest while you can. The days ahead will not be dull.”

  I gave him a polite nod before stepping away, the steady hum of the ship at my back as I headed toward my quarters.

  I woke up lying on my back, staring at the plain white ceiling of the stateroom, as the late afternoon sun shined through the large windows, casting a golden glow across the room. I hadn’t meant to sleep this long, but the ship’s gentle hum and the pull of exhaustion kept me asleep longer than I had planned.

  Warmth pressed against me, a steady weight across my chest. I turned my head and caught the dark sweep of Allira’s short-cropped hair, her body tucked against mine, her arm draped over me in quiet possession. She felt warm and solid, her breath feathering lightly across my skin.

  “You’re awake,” she said, more statement than question.

  “Yes,” I murmured, my voice rough with sleep. “I feel much better now.”

  “Good.” Her tone shifted, lower, edged with that familiar confidence. “Then you can do something for me.”

  I hesitated to ask what, but her hand brushed lower, fingers tracing across my stomach before closing around what was already rising to meet her touch. A slow, knowing smile curved her lips as I caught her gaze, and I felt my pulse quicken.

  We left the bedchamber later to find both Seraphina and Marlena sitting on the couches, books in hand. They looked up together, and Marlena turned to Seraphina with a sly smile.

  “Am I that loud?” she asked.

  “I was questioning that myself,” Seraphina replied dryly, and both women broke into laughter.

  Beside me, Allira tried to shrink behind my shoulder, her face flushed with genuine embarrassment. I stepped aside intentionally, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. “I wasn’t that loud this time,” I said, half-teasing, hoping to deflect some of the fire.

  That only made Marlena and Seraphina laugh even harder before they both stood and wrapped us in a warm group hug.

  “I love all three of you,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of each head in turn.

  When the embrace broke, I didn’t let go of Allira’s hand. She clung to mine anyway.

  “David,” Seraphina said as she returned to her seat, her tone shifting. “We’ve decided. Starting today, when we’re away from home, at least one of us will always be by your side.”

  “Yes,” Marlena added, firm but gentle. “You need our support more than ever now. We won’t leave you to stand alone.”

  “This is not negotiable,” Seraphina finished, her eyes steady on mine.

  I knew better than to argue. My wives weren’t just my partners; they were my shields, just as much as I was theirs. I exhaled, a faint smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. Some battles were won by surrender.

  “Alright then,” I said lightly, “which of you beautiful women gets the honor today?”

  “That would be me,” Allira said quickly, recovering some of her composure.

  “Well, my love,” I said, squeezing her hand, “today’s itinerary is thrilling, a few hours of reading, and after dinner, a meeting with Archmage Veralt in the observation lounge.”

  I spent the rest of the day buried in my books, taking notes nonstop until Allira finally coaxed me away for dinner. Without her prompting, I would have kept going until my stomach started growling. Dinner was simple soup and warm bread, but it felt refreshing as we sat watching the sun dip below the horizon, coloring the clouds with shades of fire and fading gold.

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  The walk afterward through the ship’s corridors was quiet. I realized, not for the first time, how different this vessel felt from the cramped passages of my old life. Back then, narrow halls could trigger that old claustrophobia, the sensation of walls pressing closer with every step. Here, the designers had been generous enough with space to breathe, high ceilings, and the subtle curve of wood and brass that gave an air of openness. I found myself silently grateful.

  The forward observation lounge opened before us, spacious and inviting. Plush chairs and couches faced large windows, the glass spanning from floor to ceiling. The world unfolded before us as if the ship itself were carving a path through the sky.

  I sank into a couch with Allira at my side. She leaned in almost immediately, resting her head against my shoulder, and I instinctively wrapped an arm around her. Allyson kept a respectful distance, silent, more like a presence than a shadow.

  We sat together, the hum of the ship beneath us, as the stars slowly revealed themselves in the twilight. For once, I didn’t think about tomorrow or the challenges ahead. I could have stayed there for hours, holding Allira close, watching the sky shift from fire to velvet, with nothing but the future quietly rushing toward us.

  I must have dozed off; it was fully dark outside when a familiar voice stirred me.

  “Hello, Earl.”

  High Mage Veralt eased into the overstuffed chair beside me, his white robes rustling softly. I blinked, rubbed my eyes, and glanced down. Allira was still sleeping against me, her arm heavy across my chest.

  “Oh, Mage Veralt, sorry. I must’ve fallen asleep watching the sunset.”

  He chuckled, his old eyes reflecting the starlight beyond the glass. “Ah, I should thank you for this journey. The last time I traveled from Eldros, it was a ten-day journey on a hard bench. This… this is grand.”

  His words tugged at an old memory: that brutal train ride down the coast in my past life, Boston to Florida, plastic seats digging into my back the entire way. I shivered just remembering it.

  Allira stirred when I shifted, and I whispered to Allyson, “A blanket for her?”

  “Yes, master.”

  One of the maid-golems stepped forward, unfolding a rich blue blanket and tucking it gently around Allira’s shoulders. She sighed, leaning closer into me, and I mouthed my thanks.

  Turning back to Veralt, I asked, “So, how’s the trip treating you so far?”

  “I can’t complain. Your servants anticipate every need. This is… well, it feels like a luxury cruise,” he admitted. Then his eyes flicked toward Allyson. “Servants. But they’re not, are they? They’re golems.”

  “Autotoms might be the older term,” I corrected lightly.

  He gestured to Allyson. “That one, she’s different.”

  “Yes. This is Allyson, my assistant.”

  Upon hearing her name, she tilted her head and gave a graceful bow. Veralt looked at her with a hunger I recognized not as greed, but as a desperate need of a scholar encountering something thought lost to time.

  “I count three types aboard this vessel,” he murmured.

  “True,” I corrected. “Allyson is special; I count her as family. The maids and flight crew are one group. The combat units are another.”

  Veralt’s eyes shifted to the armored figure standing motionless against the wall. Its polished plating caught the low light — a silent sentinel.

  “How many of those… combat versions do you command?” he asked, his voice low, cautious.

  I set down my cup. “Here, or in general?”

  His gaze sharpened. “There’s a difference?”

  “Yes.” I leaned back, folding my hands, keeping my tone mild though the question deserved weight. “In general? More than five thousand. Here with us, only twenty. Enough for contingencies. Allira commands them.”

  For a moment, the old mage said nothing. The color drained from his face as the number settled in. He blinked once, twice, as if confirming he’d heard correctly.

  “Five… thousand,” he repeated, almost to himself.

  I gave a small nod.

  “How many did you bring to the Rift incursion?”

  “Let’s see. Allira, Marlena, Allyson, me… and five hundred golems.”

  “Gods preserve us.” His voice trembled. “With that strength, you could topple kingdoms.”

  I said nothing. Let him sit with the thought.

  He finally spoke again, softer. “So the stories were true.”

  My brows rose. “Stories?”

  “Of the Engineers, centuries ago, when they fought the last great incursion. Tales of weapons that roared like thunder, light brighter than the sun, and mountains leveled in a night. I dismissed them as exaggerations, but… here you sit.” His eyes narrowed. “David, if I may call you that, are you truly an Engineer?”

  “Yes.”

  I raised my hand, causing the status panel to appear. Its white text glowed against the blue ether, and I tilted it so he could read the top lines.

  Class: Engineer.

  He leaned forward eagerly and caught more than I intended. His eyes flickered, widened, and he broke into a cough, nearly choking.

  “Do you need water? Or something stronger?”

  “Stronger,” he croaked.

  One of the maids immediately set a crystal glass of amber liquid in his hand. He sipped, blinked at the burn, and muttered, “That is strong.”

  “I don’t show my status to many,” I said, closing the window with a thought. “So very few have seen exactly what I am.”

  “I understand.” His voice steadied, though his hands trembled slightly. “I also saw… you’re not entirely human.”

  “True.” I shrugged. “I’m evolving. Alongside my class.”

  He digested that in silence, then ventured, “Your wives. A mage. A soldier. And…?”

  “My heart,” I finished for him. “Seraphina is my heart. Marlena is my intellect, brilliant beyond most. And Allira,” I pulled the blanket tighter around her, “is my strength. I don’t know what the future holds, Mage Veralt, but these women… they ground me.”

  Veralt’s gaze softened, the awe in him shifting to something closer to respect. He nodded once, gravely, as if that answer reassured him more than the five thousand golems ever could.

  “Ground you? More like always keeping you out of trouble,” Allira mumbled, her voice low and teasing.

  I chuckled and pressed a kiss into her hair. “I have the best guardians.”

  “So, Mage Veralt,” Allira said as she sat up straighter, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, “what brings you to our lovely kingdom?”

  Before Veralt could respond, a new voice spoke from behind us. “We came to find someone who we thought might point us to an engineer.”

  I turned slightly. The speaker was a well-dressed man with shrewd eyes and a presence that seemed to weigh every word in the room.

  “Ah, Earl,” he said with a polite nod, “we did meet briefly this morning. I am Prime Minister Halbrecht of Ironholt.”

  He eased into the chair beside Veralt, carrying the confidence of someone who had never been denied a seat at the table. “In a few days, you will meet Queen Aleryn of Karethuun and King Theran of Eldros. We should save the larger discussions for then. I’d not want to exclude them from matters of such… importance.”

  I thought to myself, a real politician.

  Halbrecht folded his hands neatly. “So, what we understand so far,” he said smoothly, “is that you are an Engineer, maybe the only one, you can forge mithril, and you command a tower full of golems.”

  “Yes,” I said, watching his expression closely. “That’s not everything, but it’s a good start.”

  “Would you be willing to share more?” His eyes sharpened, though his tone remained casual.

  I smiled faintly. “I’ve got to keep some secrets.”

  Halbrecht’s lips curled into a politician’s smile, warm, practiced, unreadable. “True. We all do, don’t we? Still, Ironholt would pay very well for some of what you make. Or even just the plans.” His gaze flicked to the silent combat golems lined up against the wall.

  Allira stiffened slightly beside me, and I rested my hand lightly over hers. “I’m sorry, gentlemen,” I said, rising to my feet. “But I must turn in. We can continue after breakfast, if you’re inclined.”

  I offered them both a slight bow, enough to be polite but no more, then guided Allira toward the corridor. Behind me, I could still feel the Prime Minister’s eyes, weighing me the way a merchant weighs coin.

  Mage Veralt took the last sip from the glass he held, savoring it before passing it back to a waiting maid. She refilled it without a word and set it back in his hand. He lifted it slightly, admiring the amber liquid. “This is a very good drink.”

  “What do you think of the Earl?” Prime Minister Halbrecht asked, his voice low but edged with curiosity.

  “He is talented,” Veralt said slowly, “and very smart.” He scooted his chair a little closer to Halbrecht, lowering his voice even more. “Would you believe before you arrived, he showed me his status? Just as clear as day.”

  Halbrecht’s brows arched. “What did you see?”

  “That man is an Engineer,” Veralt said gravely. “A very powerful one.” He leaned back, cradling his glass as if the weight of the thought needed balancing.

  For a moment, only the gentle clink of glass broke the silence. Finally, Veralt spoke again. “You know, Prime Minister, it was always said that Engineers aren’t concerned with money. Coin is just a tool to achieve something else. What they truly desire is knowledge… discovery… adventure. And this one,” he tapped the arm of his chair lightly, “this one also values his companionship.”

  Halbrecht tilted his head. “What makes you say that?”

  “The way he talks about his wives. I recognize that look. I once knew someone a long time ago. She meant the world to me. That same devotion burns in him. If you try to take it away, you’ll just find steel or the ire of something we don’t want to see.”

  Halbrecht’s expression darkened with thought. “Then we just need to find a way in.”

  “No.” Veralt’s voice was sharp enough to cut the air. He leaned forward, eyes shining with old memories. “You don’t understand. When I spoke of the war centuries ago, the weapons the Engineers unleashed against the demons, I saw something in his eyes. Recognition. He knew what they were, or at least he understood enough. That means he carries knowledge we can’t afford to provoke. Could you not make him angry, Prime Minister? Be kind. Talk to him. That’s our best route.”

  I was exhausted by the time I finally reached the cabin. Pushing the door open, I paused at the sight before me: Seraphina and Marlena sitting gracefully on the sofas, sharing tea with another woman. For a moment, I didn’t recognize her until I heard the warm, familiar cadence of her voice.

  “Priestess Anne,” I said, stepping further inside. Sure enough, she was there, serene as ever, her hands cradling a porcelain cup. In the high-backed chair nearby sat the young priest, nearly swallowed by the upholstery, his eyes darting around the cabin as if afraid to touch anything.

  “David,” the priestess greeted me, rising slightly before settling back down. “This is… impressive. Truly. The gods must favor you to bless you with such a home and these three beautiful, strong women.”

  I smiled faintly, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “There are times I feel the same. Blessed beyond measure.” A yawn slipped into my words. “But I’ll leave you to your tea. Forgive me, I think I’ll turn in early tonight.”

  “Of course,” Anne said kindly.

  I murmured a “Good night, everyone,” and slipped toward the sleeping area.

  I was just about to close the door when Allira slipped in behind me. Without a word, she took my hand and guided me to the bed. Too exhausted to argue, I let her help me change, her calloused warrior’s fingers surprisingly gentle as she smoothed the blankets over me. She leaned down, kissed my forehead, and whispered, “I’ll check on you in a little while. Rest.”

  I watched her turn off the lights and sneak out, the door clicking softly behind her. The last thing I remembered before sleep took me was the warmth of her touch lingering on my skin.

  “How is he, Allira?” Seraphina asked after the door closed.

  “He’s tired,” Allira replied, folding her arms but unable to hide the strain in her voice. “More than usual. I’m worried.”

  All three instinctively turned toward Allyson, who stood by the wall like a guard.

  “Allyson, do you know why?” Marlena asked, her tone gentle but edged with insistence.

  “It is a personal matter, Lady Marlena,” Allyson replied, her face unreadable. “I cannot discuss it without the Master’s permission.”

  Marlena frowned but said nothing more.

  “Is he safe?” Seraphina pressed, her eyes narrowing.

  “Yes, Lady Seraphina. He will be fine.”

  The reassurance was firm, but it wasn’t enough to calm the room. Marlena’s lips thinned as she reached for her teacup, Allira kept her gaze fixed on the closed bedroom door, and Seraphina studied Allyson as if weighing the exact meaning of her words.

  From the sofa, Priestess Anne lowered her cup with a soft clink of porcelain against the saucer. “He carries more on his shoulders than he shows, doesn’t he?” she said gently. “The gods often choose such men. But such burdens… they take their toll. The great ones rise above and achieve grand new heights.”

  Silence followed her words, heavy but undeniable.