Mordecai had built up a fine network of informants over the years, carefully weeding away the untrustworthy and unreliable sources until only the best were left. Tonight they told him of a fat merchant convoy about to sail from the free city of Capricanto. He also heard that the Sheik and the Kingdom were preparing for another naval engagement, and it would be good to avoid the northeastern region around Triskelion. Lastly, he made his way to a smaller, quieter tavern near the Waterdocks and settled in to hear local gossip, brought to him by those who curried favor with Natasha. There was rarely anything useful, but a dutiful mate kept abreast of things.
"You Mordecai Wright?" said a deep voice.
Mordecai took the speaker in at a glance. But for the maze of scars across his face, the man was unexceptional, common as any other dockside brawler and only good for the muscle in his arms. "I am," he replied, calmly sipping from a glass of wine. "And you must have a very good reason for bothering me."
The stranger didn't meet his eyes. It was obvious he wasn't used to dealing with his betters, and didn't know quite how he should go about it. He settled on obsequiousness. "I'm Jack. Gorvey up at the Skydocks said you pay good for information. Well, got somethin' might interest you."
"Tell me what you know," replied Mordecai, voice level. "I'll decide what it's worth." Most of the evening's gossip had proven useless. He was bored and wanted to leave.
Jack looked like he might object, but quieted. He sat still for a moment, then appeared to come to a decision. "I work sometimes fer Mister Grey," he said. "Whenever 'e needs a bit of rough work done. Thomas, he comes down to grab me earlier this evenin', says 'e needs help tracking down a posh feller Mr. Grey wants found. The Fengel guy that's married ter yer Captain Blackheart." Jack glanced up at Mordecai from the corner of his eyes, hunting for a reaction.
Mordecai kept his face impassive. It wasn't hard. "Go on."
The thug frowned. "Anyway, we found him, up on the top terrace near the Bleeding Teeth with a few crew. They were all messed up. We hauled him off to Mr. Grey and I kept quiet outside while they chatted. Seems Grey wants Fengel to find something valuable. A lantern or summat."
Mordecai gestured at the barkeep, ordering a mug of grog for Jack. "Tell me everything you heard."
Encouraged, Jack told his tale. Mordecai learned that Captain Fengel was heavily in debt to the Sindicato, and about the wreck of the H.M.S. Albatross. He grilled Jack on the details repeatedly. Once he finished, he tossed the thug a gold sovereign and left the tavern. Grey wasn't one to be fooled with, and Jack would likely be dead before the end of the week for letting this slip. Still, that was no concern of his.
It seems this night has been profitable after all. Truly, he could care less about Captain Fengel, though the man's first mate, Lucian Thorne, had been a personal irritation before. Hearing about Fengel's financial straits was amusing, but the only real value to be gained from the news was the fact that would please Natasha. And even that could be taken too far, as evidenced by her current besotted ranting. The location of a wrecked Perinese frigate, heavy with priceless treasure—now that was news worth hearing.
He climbed the terraces of Haventown. The hour was late. Overhead the moon shone brightly, nearly full. It cast strange, ghostly illumination over the lagoon, deepening shadows while brightening the boardwalks. The evening's mad revelry had quieted, as it did every night at this time. Life was carefree and unrestrained in Haventown; exertions burned themselves out quickly.
The topmost terrace was empty when he reached it on his way back to the Bleeding Teeth, the few drunks and pirates pointing out the skysails of the airships at Skydock. By the light of the moon the vessels glowed, their strange material seeming to burn with a cold fire.
A wrecked frigate would be quite a bit more worthwhile than a well-armed merchant convoy or walking into a war. Normally Mordecai didn't enjoy salvage operations, but this was ripe for the picking. He did sums as he walked, calculating the duration of already-purchased supplies against distance to the nearby Yulan continent. Shrill laughter distracted him. Another couple, a pirate and his ugly whore, were pointing at the Skydocks and laughing. "I ain't never seen the like!" the woman chuckled as Mordecai passed.
"Oh, it happens, lovie. But on the Dawnhawk? Someone's got balls o' brass, that's for sure."
Mordecai stopped. He turned back to look at the couple, then followed the man's finger, pointing up at his ship. A single figure moved about the deck. At this distance he could not tell who it was, but the person's movements were furtive. The figure attached a hook and a satchel to a rope hanging off the deck and slid it down away from the ship to somewhere else, hidden by the rooftops of Haventown and the gas-bags of the other skyships.