Lucy smiled a humorless smile. “I think you know why I keep returning to the scene of the crime.”
“You’re trying to find some evidence of what happened to you inside the Dead City.”
“You could say I’m obsessed.”
“No luck so far?”
“No.” She searched his face. “You don’t believe any of this, do you?”
“I believe you are telling me the truth about your memories,” he said, choosing his words with great care. “But you’ve also told me that you were drugged that night.”
“Drugged. Not drunk.”
“I understand. But either way, it means your memories are not reliable.”
“Well, at least you’re honest about it,” she said. “You’re not trying to humor me. I appreciate that. I think.”
So much for the virtues of honesty. The evening was not going well. Gabriel did not know whether to be relieved or disappointed when the music came to an end. He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her gently through the crowd.
Two people were waiting for them at the edge of the dance floor. Both were in their mid-thirties, expensively dressed, and radiating the self-assured vibe of a professional power couple. They wore matching wedding rings signifying a Covenant Marriage.
The woman greeted Lucy with the bright, vivacious smile of a person who had clearly been born for sales, politics, or show business.
“Lucy, so good to see you here tonight,” she said. “What a surprise. I heard you were doing tours in the Storm Zone these days. Is that true?”
“Hi, Jocelyn,” Lucy said. “Yes, I’ve been doing a little tour work. How’s business?”
“Fantastic,” Jocelyn said. “We’re constantly recruiting new talent.” She turned to Gabriel. “Gabriel Jones, I believe.”
“That’s right,” Gabriel said.
The man held out a business card. “We’re Jocelyn and Brock Roxby. Roxby Weather Wizards. We have over thirty high-rez weather channelers on our staff. Let us know if we can be of service to the Guild.”
“Thanks.” Gabriel took the card and slipped it into the inside pocket of his jacket. “I’ll keep your agency in mind.”
“We’re the largest Underworld weather business in Illusion Town,” Jocelyn said. “Coppersmith Mining is our biggest client at the moment, but we can handle more work. We’ve got a lot of talent and experience on our team, and we’re extremely flexible.”
“Good to know,” Gabriel said.
“Heard you might be in the market for a good channeler, Mr. Jones,” Brock continued. “A special project in the Ghost City, I believe.”
“I’ve already hired a channeler,” Gabriel said.
“Me,” Lucy added with an icy smile.
Jocelyn did not miss a beat. She gave Lucy a concerned look. “Someone mentioned that you had taken a contract with the new Guild director. Do let us know if you need some help. It’s been a while since you worked down below, and we all know you went through an extremely traumatic experience two months ago. The weather changes so quickly in the Ghost City. We’ve got all of the latest charts available. We’d be happy to offer the most up-to-date expertise. Perhaps you should take an outside consultant with you?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Lucy said. “I’m sure I can handle Mr. Jones’s contract by myself.”
“Good luck,” Brock said to Gabriel. He spoke with deep feeling, as if he suspected a lot of luck would be required. “If you change your mind, give us a call. We’re a full-service agency. We’ve got channelers available twenty-four hours a day.”
Brock took Jocelyn’s arm and moved off into the crowd. Lucy waited until they were out of earshot.
“You’ve just met my main competition,” she said. “Roxby Weather Wizards moved into town right after Coppersmith Mining took over the Ghost City project. They brought in their own team of channelers and have since hired most of the independents who were already here. There were never many of us because there wasn’t much in the way of big corporate jobs. Until Coppersmith opened up the Ghost City, the majority of the clients were small-time prospectors and academic researchers.”
“Why didn’t you join the Roxby outfit?” Gabriel asked.
“I was thinking seriously about doing just that before my little disaster down below,” Lucy admitted. “There would have been some advantages. The Roxbys are getting all the big contracts from Coppersmith, and they pay their channelers well. But in the end I decided I’d rather be able to pick and choose my own jobs. I kept my prices affordable for the small operators who work the fringes—old-fashioned prospectors and the historians and researchers who can’t afford to hire Weather Wizards.”