Bitter Cold Truth: A Tale of the Everburning City

(8-3) As details lie in the mire

Listening to the rhythmic clacking of the train wheels as they ground across the tracks was all Samuel had to do for an awkward few minutes. Bertram was sitting by the window in sullen silence, and Angela sat beside the shadow with her fist clenched.

"So what have we learned about Silas?" Bertram asked eventually, breaking the silence.

"He visited Cade Destir three days ago. Barely a day before the incident," Samuel reported.

"You mean the night he smoked fourteen people," Bertram said testily.

Samuel grimaced, and took a deep breath before he spoke again. "Yes, that incident. Apparently, Silas was asking about Amanda's health and mentioned Francis Pilchmer's odd death. Also, this medical issue may be something that Research doesn't want revealed."

"What makes you say that?" Angela asked.

"Besides being told off by Crafter Ratterson yesterday? Well, Amanda's father doesn't even know she's in hospice care right now," Samuel said.

"Her own father? That is cruel," Angela said, standing up out of her seat. "Monstrously cruel."

"No one would bother to do something like this without a reason," Samuel insisted.

He wasn't surprised when both Angela and Samuel objected to how he phrased that. "Keeping someone cut off from their own family? It's sick, and there's no reason for it!" Angela exclaimed.

"But there is a purpose behind it. There must be," Samuel insisted.

"We might learn it from Angela," Bertram said. "It will depend on who is monitoring this interview."

"We'll know soon," Samuel said as he stood up. "We're here."

Lowpoint station was one of the few platforms in the City built at ground level. The platform was drowned behind the shade of the Levee wall it was built alongside, which at the moment blocked both the light of the sun and the Spire.

The air was cool and wet, enough that Samuel instinctively buttoned is his coat as he stepped off the train.

The platform practically connected to Riverwash Hospice, or at least the nature sanctuary that surrounded it. The hard, cobbled street lead into a gravel path that wound around dozens of trees and a bloom of flowers with more colour than Samuel had ever seen in his life.

"Keep to the path," someone said from behind Samuel. He whirled around, to see a tall man in an old hat standing just a few feet from him.

Tall, old hat, with a sword at his belt. Even having only met the man once before, Samuel would not forget the Fury of the Dawn's first officer, Commander Aranhall.

Angela cursed in surprise, and even Bertram looked shaken by how closely the man had come to them unawares.

"Gardeners and botanists are fussy and irritable. Only patients are allowed to walk on the grass. Even then, only barefoot," Commander Aranhall explained, ignoring their distress.

"Why are you here?" Angela asked.

"To supervise your interview with Miss Destir," the commander explained with the same blunt simplicity normally used while explaining simple things to small children.

"But why you? Aren't you an airship commander?" Samuel said. Angela nodded, silently insisting on an answer.

"I wear a lot of hats," the commander replied.

"You wear one hat a lot," Angela said, pointing at the dark grey, badly aged hat the commander wore.

It was an odd hat, Samuel noted. A fedora, wide-brimmed, but tapered to a point at the front of the brim. It was fairly thick, and soaked with some kind of chemical that gave it a peculiar sheen.