Transmuted by Karina Cooper

something of an agreement between men. I doubted it was overly friendly. The fact they once more occupied opposite sides of the room made that clear enough.
    Zylphia sat in her own chair, hands laced over her belly as though the growing swell was something of a burden. I had no doubt it was. Soon enough, we’d have to alter her dresses.
    “If you’d be so kind,” I announced, earning the attention of three sets of eyes. “’Tis time we talk of our plans. Shall we go over what it is we know and expect?”
    My tutor’s attentiveness was steady. I could always count on him for common sense.
    Zylphia’s gaze was a little more tired than I was acclimated to seeing, but I suspected her energies flagged with the child she carried. She had always been clever, and through her, I’d ascertain Communion’s interests.
    I was not inclined to anger the Bakers. Though Ishmael and I were mates, the Bakers and I had only managed a thin understanding. We deemed it best to stay out of Baker matters until they could regroup from the Ferrymen attacks that had thinned their ranks.
    She would inform me if I strayed too close to the crew’s concerns.
    Hawke, watching me like a feline might a particularly juicy rodent, could not be trusted to mind his tongue—not where I was concerned. Where Ashmore was like to understand a certain amount of risk involved in my affairs, Hawke would argue me blue and still manhandle me into obedience.
    I had learned—far too late—that he did so for my own protection. It had cost him in standing and freedom, but the fact of his aggression remained.
    He would not know compromise if it came at him in bloomers and danced a bloody jig.
    I had no choice but to rely on overbearing confidence to see my plans through. “We believe that whatever thief braved the Jewel House, he will take the Koh-i-Noor to the Underground. The ghost market might be housing the wealthy employer of our collector.”
    “And if not?” Hawke asked. A blunt enough question.
    “Then I have no doubt that someone there will know more,” I replied. “The originator of the demand may not be in residence, but a man intending to facilitate the transaction might. Regardless, someone there will know something.”
    Hawke did not argue this for the same reason that Zylphia nodded in simple acceptance. For the right price, near anything could be acquired through the Underground.
    “If we’re not dealing with a toff,” I added, bracing against the back of the empty sofa, “and I have some suspicion as to that—”
    “Because the Underground strings them up right good,” Zylphia interjected, with slightly more relish than perhaps the subject deserved.
    I waved it away with a rueful smile. “You’ve been spending too much time with Maddie Ruth.”
    She didn’t deny it.
    “However,” I said with care, “although the Underground typically loathe when toffs muck about in their business, they do make quite a lot of money from them wealthy enough to send agents to do their dickering for them. That means we can’t discount a well-heeled thumb upon the problem.”
    “Wise,” Ashmore said. “’Tis likely we shall find an informant who can at least point us in the right direction.”
    “We will need trade for it,” Hawke said flatly. “Pound for pound, flesh or coin.”
    “Or even favor,” Ashmore added.
    “We will be forced to negotiate, ’tis true,” I said. “But we won’t know for what until we know what exactly we’re looking for. A diamond is one matter, the thief another, and the motive a third. Each might very well lead us in a different direction. So let’s start by finding a guide, shall we?”
    Hawke studied me over the rim of his snifter. “And the dogs?”
    There was a challenge if I’d ever heard one.
    I straightened. “Of course, we believe the Ferrymen dogs have gone Underground.”
    “That alone makes this endeavor a dangerous one,” Zylphia pointed out.
    “Not alone,” Ashmore corrected.
    “Near