And she would have been executed, if she’d been an adult, I thought. I was mildly surprised she hadn’t turned up at Grayling’s. She was lucky.
Kate inched up to me as we were escorted down a long corridor, pitching her voice low so we wouldn’t be overheard. “Why isn’t he coming to greet us?”
“We’re supplicants,” I replied, bluntly. My pride rebelled against the suggestion. I told it to shut up. I had no time for pride, nor reason to be prideful. “He won’t come to us. We have to go to him.”
I felt nervous as we passed through an antechamber and into a comfortable meeting room, outfitted for informal discussions. There were comfortable chairs and sofas, instead of wooden tables and hard chairs; a notice board hung on one wall, covered with pieces of paperwork and snippets from newspapers. Albrecht Rubén sat in an armchair, his hands resting comfortably on his lap. Akin stood behind him, his hands clasped behind his back. I guessed Akin was supposed to observe the discussions, then report to his father. I felt another stab of envy as Albrecht Rubén stood. Instead of shaking my hand, he brought it to his lips and kissed the air above my skin. I guessed he was having some problems deciding how best to treat me. I was a supplicant, but supposedly I was also a powerful aristocrat ...
Not that powerful, I reminded myself. There’s no way House Lamplighter can stand against any of the other Great Houses.
“You must be Jackson Farthing,” Albrecht said, to Kate’s father. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“All of it good, I trust.” Kate’s father was a tall, powerfully-built man with a nasty scar on his face. No one would hold the mark - or his burnt hands - against him. Indeed, they’d see the scars as a badge of honour. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Please, be seated.” Albrecht waved us to the sofa. The maids brought us glasses of fancy wine, then withdrew as silently as they’d come. “I understand you have a proposition for me.”
I leaned back in my sofa, doing my level best to appear calm and unconcerned as Kate’s father started to outline his business, his future plans and his need for investment. I’d heard the speech before - I’d insisted on rehearsing it, time and time again - but I had no way to know what Albrecht would make of it. Or what he’d ask. I’d thrown every awkward question I could at Jackson, just to prepare him for the interrogation to come, but ... I was all too aware my imagination might not have been enough. If Albrecht asked the wrong question, we might not have a good answer.
My heart sank as Albrecht showed no visible reaction to the speech and paperwork. I still didn’t understand why he wanted artificers, even though he’d accepted my proposal quickly enough to convince me he did. I’d researched Albrecht and his family as thoroughly as I could, only to draw a complete blank. They could satisfy their needs easily, without doing deals with commoners like Jackson and Kate. I just didn’t understand.
“A decent suggestion,” Albrecht said, finally. At least he hadn’t told us to get lost. Behind him, Akin studied the designs. “What are you prepared to offer, in exchange for investment?”
Jackson showed no hint of weakness. “One-third of our component production, My Lord,” he said. “And a share of the profits if our long-term project works out.”
“Interesting.” Albrecht stroked his chin. “You do not, of course, offer a guarantee.”
“No, My Lord,” Jackson said. “We believe we can adapt a handful of Objects of Power, as I described, but there’s no guarantee the concept will work. Makeshift Objects of Power simply do not last for long, if they work at all.”
I saw Akin shift behind his uncle. That wasn’t entirely true. Caitlyn could make real Objects of Power ... but she was unique. Jackson’s two concepts were more of a way to get around the problem than overcome it. And ... I felt cold. If only I’d had the money to invest in the concept myself. There was a better than even chance that Albrecht would try to steal the idea.
“Your designs for Devices of Power seem crude,” Akin said. “Do they work?”
“Yes,” Jackson said. “By mass-producing components for Devices of Power, we can cut down assembly time by an order of magnitude. Furthermore, by making the components interchangeable, they can simply be swapped out and replaced when they fail. There is a certain crudity to the designs, as you say, but that is born of simplicity. We can cut the price by fifty percent.”
And once the concept is proven, I thought, everyone will start copying it.
“You’ll also be putting the work in the hands of unskilled craftsmen,” Akin added. I reminded myself that rumour insisted Akin was a skilled forger in his own right. It was an odd choice of major, for an Heir Primus, but very few people would tell him no. “How do you know they’ll do a good job?”
Jackson tensed, very slightly. He was a skilled craftsman. His reputation depended on hiring men - and women - who could handle the work. It was a reasonable question, I supposed, but also a very insulting one. Craftsmen who couldn’t do the job - and didn’t have a powerful family backing them up - tended to be reassigned, or simply fired, very quickly. I prayed he wouldn’t lose his temper. If he raised his voice, Albrecht would be perfectly within his rights to have him - and us - evicted.
“First, my craftsmen are required to pass a basic training course before being allowed to take a position within the workshop,” Jackson said. “Second, we have prepared spells to check each component before forwarding it onwards. Those that are not perfect will be melted down and recycled. Third, the Devices of Power will simply be unable to maintain a spellform if they are not perfect. There is a certain degree of variance, I will admit, but very little. We’ll know of any failures long before they reach the public.”
“Thank you,” Akin said.
Albrecht studied the paperwork, then looked up. “We have artificers of our own,” he said, finally. “And” - he nodded to Akin - “soon to acquire the world’s foremost forger. Why should we come to terms with you?”
I saw a flicker of discontent pass over Akin’s face. Caitlyn was the world’s foremost forger by default, but ... she was more than just a forger. I felt a sudden flicker of sympathy for the boy, caught between calling his elder out for being obnoxious in front of outsiders and simply letting it pass. I hoped he’d give Albrecht a lecture when they were alone, after the meeting was gone. I’d only met Caitlyn once, but she deserved better. She’d have enough problems fitting into her new family without being treated like a piece of balky spellware.
“There are limits to how many Devices of Power - or Objects of Power - that can be produced.” Jackson’s voice was very calm. “There will still be a demand for Devices of Power, even if you find a way to produce Objects of Power without a Zero. And that demand will only rise. My workshop would not have been so successful if there wasn’t a steadily growing demand. One forger, no matter how skilled, cannot hope to meet it.”
Particularly as everyone wants her to work on flying machines and teleport gates and other things that’ll change the world, I added, silently. You won’t want her to waste her talents.
“I see.” Albrecht returned his eyes to the paperwork. “Will you excuse us a moment? The maids will refresh your drinks.”
He stood and left the room, followed by Akin. I tapped my lips, warning them to say nothing as the maids entered. They’d be loyal to their family. They’d report anything they overheard to their masters. And even if they didn’t ... the wards buzzed and crackled around the chamber. I was fairly sure they were designed to relay our conversation to listening ears. It was an old trick ... I stood, brushing down my dress as I walked around the room. The notice board was covered with clippings promising a grand future for Albrecht’s house. I wondered, rather sourly, if the board was genuine or if someone had set it up to waste my time. It would be foolish to leave something incriminating visible where just anyone could see it.
It doesn’t have to be incriminating, I thought, as I turned back to the sofa. It just has to suggest things are not as rosy as they’d like us to b
elieve.
I sat and waited, reminding myself I could be patient. I’d spent hours in detention, standing in the hall with my hands on my head ... it sounded like nothing, until one actually did it. I had a comfortable seat here, as well as something to read ... I reread the proposal, trying to think of ways to present it to another house. House Rubén was a good choice because they were too wealthy and powerful to cheat us - they wouldn’t feel the need to cheat us - but there were others. We might have to rewrite the proposal ...
The door opened. “We have considered the matter,” Albrecht said, as he closed the door behind him and sat down. “We are prepared to provisionally accept your offer, assuming we can come to suitable terms. For example, we require half of your output for the next five years.”
My eyes narrowed. That was odd. Albrecht would be paying for it, by investing in the workshop, but ... why did they need the components? Were they planning to flood the market with Devices of Power? It was possible, but they hadn’t known about Jackson’s plan before I’d brought it to their attention. They’d clearly been planning something before I’d contacted them. I made a mental note to look into it again. Whatever it was, I wanted to know.
“Once we are set up for mass production, that shouldn’t be a problem,” Jackson said. “Prior to that, My Lord, we will have to plough most of our production back into the business ...”
“I quite understand.” Albrecht cut him off. “Your funding plan looks acceptable. We’ll invest what you said, plus ten percent. You may require extra cash.”
I sensed, more than heard, Kate gasp. I felt the same way too. Albrecht had casually pledged enough money to keep a mid-sized family comfortable for decades. House Rubén was rich, but ... I shook my head. They were rich enough to consider the entire sum a trifle. They could even afford to write it off, if something went wrong. I seethed with envy as Jackson and Albrecht discussed terms, the former sounding a little shaken. I didn’t blame him. He’d been given everything he wanted on a silver platter.
“My people will be in touch with your people,” Albrecht said. He stood and held out a hand. Jackson shook it firmly. “The final issues should be settled quickly.”
Too quickly, I thought. Uncle Stefano had warned me that it might be weeks before the contracts were signed ... and months before we saw any profits. What do you really want?
“Thank you for your time,” I said. Beside me, Kate curtsied. “It was our pleasure.”
“I look forward to doing business with you,” Albrecht said. “The butler will show you out.”
I said nothing as the butler entered and escorted us back towards the entrance hall. There was no time to sneak away, not even to use the washroom. The wards were just too powerful. House Rubén felt as if it were preparing for war. Perhaps it was. They - and their partners - would have a serious advantage, when Akin and Caitlyn married. The others were probably already plotting their countermoves.
“They agreed,” Jackson said, once we were back in the carriage. He sounded a little dazed as he looked at me. “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome,” I said, feeling torn between relief and a grim sense I’d taken advantage of my friend. “I hope you earn as much as you think.”
“You’ll get your share of the profits,” Jackson said. We’d settled on ten percent. “And I hope we’ll see you at the workshop soon enough.”
“If you know anyone else who might need an introduction, feel free to give them my name,” I said, as we headed for the bridges. “I might be able to do something.”
“We will.” Kate gave me a mischievous smile. “There’s quite a few clever people on the other side of the river, you know?”
“I know,” I said. “I look forward to hearing from them.”
We dropped Kate and her father off at the bridges, then drove back to Lamplighter Hall. I wasn’t sure how to feel about the whole affair. I’d done well, yet ... I’d really done very little. And yet, without me - and Uncle Stefano - Jackson Farthing would have gotten nowhere. He certainly could not have hoped to maintain some of his independence, if he’d gotten into bed with Albrecht Rubén. We’d ensured he’d have a degree of freedom even as he took their money.
I jumped out of the carriage as soon as we reached the hall and walked up to my office. Preparations for the next ball were well underway, even though we were running short of money again. I silently thanked the ancients that they’d paid in advance. It was going to be tight, but we’d already done most of the work when we’d hosted the first ball. I told myself, rather curtly, that I shouldn’t be complaining. I was doing better than I’d had any right to expect.
And I have to go to another ball this weekend, I thought, as I cancelled the wards and stepped into the office. My office. The tables were covered in price sheets, maps and mining output projections. And I have to see what else I can dig up.
I sobered as I sat down and studied the charts. It was starting to look as through the price for Silverdale ore was finally starting to rise. I might have made it worse, by purchasing every last gram I could find. I’d done my best to calculate how high the price would rise, but there was no way to be sure. There were other mines, other seams. The Great Houses would probably be already trying to source new supplies. And if I got the timing wrong, I’d be lumbered with a vast quantity of ore I could neither sell nor use.
Which would mean disaster, I reminded myself. I counted the days in my head, trying to work out how long it would be until new supplies could be imported. I’d never be able to repay the money.
I felt a thrill at gambling, even though I knew I couldn’t afford to lose. I’d learnt that was part of the fun, back at school ... I shook my head. Agreeing to do someone’s homework or perform an embarrassing forfeit or something was hardly the end of the world. It just felt that way. But now ... I could lose, and lose badly. I could lose everything. And it was part of the thrill. What was the fun in gambling if you could afford to lose?
Perhaps I should have joined the tables instead, I thought. Aristocrats won and lost fortunes at the gaming tables every day. I knew a dozen ways to cheat, most of which didn’t involve magic. No one, even the most notorious rakes, could cheat like a schoolgirl intent on making her social superiors look like buffoons. But I wouldn’t have been able to raise enough money.
I sighed, then placed my bet. I’d sell in a week, unless the price started to fall dramatically. If my projections were accurate, the sales would bring me a tidy profit. Not enough to repay Danny Prestwick, but enough to allow me to gamble again. And again. And again.
“And if it fails, I’ll just have to try again,” I told myself. “I still have cards to play.”
Chapter Sixteen
“A very good day’s work,” I said, as I ate breakfast. “We made a tidy profit.”
“Yes. We did.”
I glanced at Uncle Jalil. He looked grim, as if he needed to ask a question he didn’t really want to ask. I’d thought he would be pleased. The price had risen faster than I’d anticipated, to the point where I’d seriously considered holding onto our stockpile of ore for a few more days. We’d made enough money to service at least some of our debts. There was nothing in the paper about it, of course, but that didn’t worry me. Better they talked about the parties I hosted than the money I’d made.
And the last party was very helpful, I thought. I’d overheard a few more conversations, enough to let me place another set of bets. Who knows how much money I can make in a year?
I allowed myself a tight smile. Kate had been as good as her word, forwarding my name to a dozen businessmen who wanted me to act as their agent. I was still going through their proposals, but it was starting to look as if I could match at least two of them to aristocrats with more money than sense. My share of the profits would be low, but ... it would all add up. Given time, I could start investing on my own and build up a real empire. I might not come to enjoy the wealth and power of Lord Joaquin Aguirre or Lord Carioca Rubén, but my children would be ab
le to look their children in the eye as equals. Or so I hoped. It wasn’t going to be easy - I knew I’d gotten lucky - but I had more room to manoeuvre now.
“We’ll have to plan our next investment carefully,” I said. I was due to attend the Braddock Ball the following day. Brantley had already written me a note, asking if he could take me to the ball. Who knew what I’d discover, if I had a chance to roam the halls? “We need to get our money’s worth.”
“Yes.” Uncle Jalil still didn’t sound happy. “We do.”
The Lady Heiress (The Zero Enigma Book 8) Page 15