The invasion lasted another three weeks. To the surprise and delight of most of the City, the remaining Golems withdrew after two-thirds of their number had been destroyed. Of the creatures of flame commanding the assault, very little had been seen since the Dragon fell into the waters of the Channel.

The invasion claimed over eleven thousand souls, at the final tally. Over two-thirds of those were casualties of the Dragon Chase, as the Dragon's wrath had slagged buildings and devastated a sizeable portion of Central. Nearly a quarter of the City's farmland was held by the Gloam, and even essential foodstuffs were strictly monitored to prevent waste or starvation.

It was the least damaging invasion in the City's history. Despite the shortage of non-essential foods, a period of celebration was announced once the last breach in the wall was closed with fire.

Three days into the City's jubilation, a base was laid for a statue to commemorate the creator of the Airships, slayer of the beast called the 'Dragon', Crafter Tabitha a'Loria. The mason in charge of the project was unable to explain why the inscription only read 'You're Welcome'.

In the midst of the celebration her cremation was relatively poorly attended. Only the crews of the Fury of the Dawn, and the Midnight Songbird, along with roughly a dozen others, were in attendance.

To Gerald's left, silent and respectful, stood newly promoted second lieutenant Harold Reeves, and Captain Amelian Rustov. Behind him, nearly a third of his crew had received promotions, including Mia and Spendel, who ranked as sergeants while maintaining specialist status.

It was well earned. The Songbird's soldiers and gunners had over half a dozen golem kills to their tally, without counting the near-miraculous destruction of the Golem at the last wall.

Their promotions had come without fanfare; stuffed in a supply crate full of food. Reeve's new sword was used to keep the perishables cool.

Gerald's thumb rested on the new pommel for his sword; a small bird resting on a crescent moon, with two bars running through it. Benden decided, a few days after the Golems withdrew from the walls, that ship officers should be distinguishable from regular army officers.

Asides from the crew of the Songbird, both the surviving and current crew of the Fury of the Dawn were in attendance. He could feel both Maxwell and the new Lieutenant, as both of them wore officer swords bearing the unique insignia of the Fury.

Standing with Maxwell was a Crafter Gerald didn't recognize, but judging by his presence among the crew of the Fury, standing just behind the old engineer, he was probably the Crafter assigned to handle the Fury's lift bag.

Gerald's eyes lingered on the silent forms of the other three Crafters in attendance: Coraline Estefan, Theo Ratterson, and Brenda Thael. Asides from Coraline, he had never met any of his master's former apprentices and knew them only by their reputations as some of the greatest of the City's Crafters.

It occurred to him that he was his master's first and only failure.

Oddly enough, Agrias Sunbane was in attendance, standing well away from the others with only Mathias for company. Both of them were wearing old, faded, loose-fitting clothes with the telltale sheen of a heat-resistant chemical wash, and were carrying crossbows.

At first, Gerald thought it was the presence of four Combat Crafters, but something about their bearing and the choice of their gear suggested his assumption was a mistake.

"Truth is complicated. That's why we make assumptions," Gerald remembered, recalling something his master had said, years ago.

"What?" Lucille asked, from where she stood. To his right, and half a step behind. Just outside of his peripheral vision, just inside of arms reach.

"One of her lessons," Gerald explained, gesturing with his head towards the pyre. "Assumptions are meant to restrict understanding. Which can be useful, because reasoning out everything takes too long. You should use your assumptions, but be able to recognize when to abandon them."

"What prompted that thought?"

"Mathias and the Deputy Chief. Battle gear, a lot of cold-stone, it's easy to assume they're here out of security concerns. Yet, if they were worried about the Crafters, they would have brought an escort."

"Is it so strange that we would be here to pay our respects?" Mathias asked, and Gerald failed to hide his surprise.

"You? No. It's your chief that I can't explain. Or the hunting gear," Gerald admitted.

"If you had to guess?" Mathias asked.

"They fought together. But she wasn't on the Fury, and none of us were alive during the Fifth," Gerald mused. Mathias made no effort to contradict him, so he continued. "None of us were alive for the Fifth, and Crafters are never called to handle civil disturbances. Which leaves..."

Gerald nodded, understanding. "She fought a raging Crafter. Probably a Combat Crafter. That's why you were so willing to let her fight the Dragon, despite how close she was to being scourged."

Mathias grinned a little, but it was Agrias who spoke next. "Clever. Correct on every count. And I remember Tabitha speaking about the value of assumptions. Use them, she said, but know them for what they are."

The wistful smile Agrias wore faded from her face as she glanced back at the fading flames. "You have a meeting. Mathias and I will accompany you."

Lucille nodded, but Mathias waved her off. "This isn't for you. Rest. You're starting intensive training tomorrow."

Lucille began to protest, but Gerald interjected. "It's all right, Lieutenant. If they wanted me dead, they wouldn't drag me off in front of my crew."

"And if it's any comfort," Coraline Estoban said, as she stood next to Lucille and put a hand on her shoulder. "I'll be going with them."

Lucille smiled. "Thank you, madam Crafter."

Lucille continued to be polite and deferential to Crafter Estoban, even slightly reverent. This was despite the weeks they spent together on the Songbird and the fact that Coraline had been acting under her command.

It was out of respect, Gerald understood. The hit squad the Bureau of Oversight supplied, despite their skill, would not have survived the conflicts with the creatures of flame without Coraline.

Agrias lead them away from the funeral, and towards the tram station, where a young soldier wearing a brown armband waited. As Agrias approached, she saluted smartly. "Ma'am. The platform has been cleared of civilians. Only the conductor is aboard the train."

"Good. Thank you," Agrias replied, and the soldier clicked her heels before standing aside.

Gerald smiled as he looked around. "I have an airship, you know."

"We'd be surrounded by people you trust. I want to be surrounded by people I trust," Agrias replied.

"The station's empty," Gerald couldn't help but respond, knowing he was being led to point that out.

"That should tell you something," Agrias said, leading them into one of the trams.

Inside one of the cars, a thin, long table had been set with just over two dozen chairs. Most of them were occupied, though Gerald noticed almost instantly that the four of them wouldn't fill every vacancy.

Shortly after, Gerald took a hard look at the people sitting in those chairs, and let out a nervous hiss.

He only recognized a third of those faces. Most of them by reputation and news reports, rather than any personal connection. Benden Tammerlane, the Lord Captain of the armies, sat firmly on his small metal chair as if it were a throne. Parliament's speaker, Sun'il Tavore, leaned lazily on the table in conversation with one of the Division Chiefs in the Bureau of Statistics and Analysis. Three Crafters sat on the far side of the table, including Lionel Adams; by far the oldest Crafter in the City and the first instructor every apprentice receives.

"Ah. Agrias. Exactly when you said you'd arrive," Sun'il said, sitting up and smiling. "It's tempting to put you in charge of the trains."

"If you want the trains to run on time, you should think of some other meeting place," Agrias replied, as she sat down. Mathias turned and started towards the engine, and the space next to Agrias was left empty.

"It's the most secure place in the City. It's impossible to be overheard on a moving train," Benden insisted.

"My airship would be much less suspicious," Gerald said. "Your meeting wouldn't inconvenience tens of thousands of people."

"Except a flight crew has to be on it," Benden said.

"Not if all you need is a quiet place to talk. I can do most of the flying on my own," Gerald replied.

"We didn't know that. You see, this is why you're here," Sun'il said. "Part of it, anyway. Our meetings usually don't take such extravagant measures to avoid being overheard, but we're going to be discussing secrets that could break the City apart."

"Oh?" Gerald asked as he looked around for an empty chair.

"Over there," Benden said, pointing to a seat roughly in the middle of the length of the table, directly across from Speaker Tavore. It stung a little, though it wasn't surprising, that he wasn't placed anywhere near the Crafters.

"You've been granted Tabitha's chair on this little council of ours," Benden explained, as he sat down. "She recommended you, and both Mathias and Agrias seconded her recommendation."

"Normally, this invokes a vote within the agency of the City you're a part of, but you represent a new interest, so there's no vote to be had," Lionel Adams added. He wasn't willing to meet Gerald's gaze, seemingly intent on his fingernails.

"Okay. So you're a council that deals with dangerous secrets. And my master was on it. Why am I here?" Gerald asked as he sat down.

As he sat, his seat jerked slightly, and a distant hiss signalled that the train had begun to move.

"You're here because you were recommended by your master and two shadows. Otherwise, despite even your value to the City, you'd be dead right now," Sun'il said, airily. She smiled warmly as she said it, and spoke in a jovial tone. Gerald found the dissonance very disturbing. "There are things you know that could shatter us."

"You think I know dangerous secrets? I haven't spent that much time in the archives," Gerald said.

"You know the Gloam is a Craft. In fact, the only reason we know is because you discovered it," She explained, and then looked hard at the Crafters at the end of the table. "Why didn't we know that before now?"

"We'll get there," Benden growled. "First, I should say that what you see before you is most of what we call the 'Council Privy to Hushed Whispers'. Our job is to keep the City safe from dangerous secrets. Secrets that could potentially upset our stability, and impair our ability to defend ourselves. Or even just get people killed. Once in a while, we have the luxury to sweat the small stuff."

Benden spoke the last sentence without a hint of humour.

"So I'm here because you want to avoid sharing how the lift-bag works?" Gerald asked.

"That's certainly a part of it," Lionel Adams said. "Before that, however, I'd like to hear why your master decided to teach you Combat Crafting. Your notes said it has something to do with the nature of the Gloam."

Gerald swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and hoped like hell that his Master had prepared him well enough.