Illusions 9

And that's how the notorious young pirate captain found herself aboard a Consulate aether-collecting skyship, smuggling canisters of their inventory onto her ship under the approving gaze of Consulate stooges, all the while consulting the voice in her head.

Of course, the Consulate saw none of that, at least not in that way. What they observed was an allied Consulate vessel, with a loyal Consulate crew, who'd come to them on official Consulate business to requisition aether for the Consulate cause.

"It's quite a trick, Jace. I can't believe it's working. This is the last crate," she thought, though it still felt odd to think at someone. But then, what was typical about this job?

She bent her knees, pressed her cheek against the filigreed side panel of the crate, and lifted her end of it. Through gritted teeth, she let out a sharp abbreviated breath as the load rose off the deck's polished surface, and as the weight of the crate was bit into her fingers, Jace's voice bloomed in her head.

"Let's just get this done. I'd advise against any more theatrics, though."

THE SKIES OVER GHIRAPUR