[b]Freyic[/b]’s demand for elevation was met by [b]Gina “Gears” Gearaldi[/b] staring down at him for one long second, brass-lit gauntlets humming softly at her sides.

[color=f26522]“Kid,”[/color] she said at last, [color=f26522]“I respect the hustle. But if I carry you, people are gonna think I’m returning a lost package.”[/color]

Still, with a snort, she hooked one metal hand under his arm and hoisted him just high enough to get his [b]“bird’s eye view”[/b] before setting him back down. [color=f26522]“There. Scout responsibly.”[/color]

By then [b]Elora[/b] had the faceplate in hand and was already moving. The guards watched her come without shifting much at all, but the one with the cigarette let his gaze linger on the plate, then on [b]Piero[/b] and [b]Gears[/b] behind her, and some of the practiced boredom left his face.

At her measured question, the second guard stepped forward first. He did not reach for the plate, which in itself said something.

[b]“That is Brass Lantern property,”[/b] he said. Smooth voice. Expensive coat. Not a servant, then. Security with aspirations. [b]“Damaged in transit, you say.”[/b]

The cigarette man flicked ash onto the pavement and gave a thin smile toward Hwicce’s very friendly expression. [b]“Funny district for found property.”[/b]

Before either could press harder, the front door opened and a clerk emerged, lean and severe in a dark vest with a gold watch chain across his middle. His eyes went to the faceplate, then sharpened.

[color=aba000]“That would be carriage fourteen,”[/color] he said. [color=aba000]“Leased last night through a private booking.”[/color]

Piero’s smile never reached his eyes. [color=00a651]“Wonderful. Then we’re making progress.”[/color]

The clerk folded his hands. [color=aba000]“Perhaps. If you would care to explain why Calabrese people are asking after one of my company’s coaches.”[/color]