"Ah," said Fengel. "Yes. Mr. Grey. Of course I will pay him a visit. Just as soon as—"
"Just now," rumbled the other thug. "Mr. Grey would very much like to speak with you, an' he won't be taking 'no' for an answer."
Fengel felt his heart sink into his stomach. I do not need this right now. But he smiled up at the thugs. "Well, then. Lead the way."
The man released his grip and stepped back, indicating their desired direction. Fengel paused to straighten his jacket and replace his monocle, then he strode ahead. The men moved to frame him, and he heard his two crewmen jog up to behind him.
"Captain, should I go and fetch—"
"No, Henry," replied Fengel. "Let's just go and see what Mr. Grey wants. Attend, Miss Stone. I am sure that this shall be an extended education on the life of adventure you so desired."
They walked on in silence along the uppermost boardwalk. The thugs led them along the northern edge of the cliff, past shops and craftsmen towards the Skydocks and the airships there. Some of the locals observed the procession, scurrying out of the way after a glare from the two massive escorts.
"Who is Mr. Grey?" Lina asked quietly.
"Local factor," whispered Henry. "Financier and fence for all the big criminal cartels back on the Western Continent. The Sindacato. Funds a lot of people here."
"Oh." She fell silent. Fengel wasn't surprised. Everyone had heard of the Sindicato.
The troupe reached the border between the Skydock and the town proper. Grey's thugs led them to the last building before the Skydock, an older manor-house of a style at odds with the rest of the shanties and shacks of Haventown. A low ramp led up to a front door elegantly carved out of fine wood. Fengel paused halfway up to catch his breath and stare longingly at the great dirigibles moored only a hundred feet away.
Lina spoke up again, her voice a whisper meant not to carry. "That was his wife? What a bitch."
"That she is, lass," replied Henry. "And pretty much in charge here, more or less."
Fengel gazed out at the airships, a sense loss almost overwhelming him at their sight. They floated gently in the breeze, the watch crewman bantering with each other from the underslung decks. Sailing on the open ocean was a fine thing, but nothing compared to the wind-born sway of flying through the air.
"But why?" asked Lina. "Why did he marry her?"
"A moment of raging insanity," said Fengel. The two thugs turned back to him, fists ready to chivvy him along. Fengel smiled at them and continued up the ramp to the building.
The front door opened onto a richly appointed parlor. Fine carpets covered the floors and oiled teak paneled the walls. A small couch sat against one wall, facing a portrait of a distinguished Perinese gentleman next to a door hanging slightly ajar. Past these a stair led upwards to the floor above.
"Thomas? cried a voice through the door. "Is that you?"
The second thug who'd manhandled him strode over and pushed open the door. "Yes sir," he said quietly. "And I've brought the debtor you asked me to go find."
"Fengel?" said the voice. "Ah, excellent. Show him in please."
Thomas glared over at him. Fengel was already moving. He sauntered over to the door, Lina and Henry falling in behind him.
The room was a small, well-decorated office. Bookshelves lined the walls and expensive rugs lay upon the floor. A massive mahogany desk dominated the small space, a single chair facing it.
Mr. Grey sat behind it, as bland as his name suggested. Middling height, average weight, and light brown hair, his skin tanned but not so dark as an islander. His eyes were an unremarkable shade of brown. As if in compensation, his clothing was wealthy and refined. He wore a suit, expensive and slightly unreasonable considering the climate, and his hair was slicked back with pomade.
"Ah,” he said in a soft voice. "Captain Fengel, have a seat. So good of you to drop by." His eyes flicked to the pair of crewman behind him. "Would you and your crew care for some refresh—"
"Yes," said Fengel, Henry, and Lina all at once.
Mr. Grey blinked, taken aback. "Some tea, Thomas," he said. "And biscuits." Thomas grunted and backed out of the room. Grey turned to face Fengel again. "Have a seat. Now, let's get straight to business. It's come to my attention that you and your crew returned to Haventown in a leaky dinghy tied up down at the docks."
"Longboat, actually," replied Fengel. He took the lone chair before the desk. The floor creaked as Henry and Lina moved up behind him.
A moue of annoyance fluttered across Grey's face. "Yes, a longboat. As I take it, your most recent venture has failed?"