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but he was younger, perhaps only in his mid-teens. Elliot was surprised that the famed “captains” of the Fleet could be so young. She was expecting grown-ups, not teenagers. The Phoenixes must be siblings, with their corresponding eyes and last name? Elliot wondered if they were born with the name, or if they’d grown up on an estate and adopted it later, as the Innovations had done. It had become fashionable these last few years for free Posts to change their names when they left their estates—to adopt new first names in the long, ornate style of Luddites and surnames of their own creation.
    “And then—but we’re missing someone.” The admiral’s heavy brows knit together. “I thought I brought three of you.”
    “You did,” said Andromeda Phoenix. “Wentforth is out seeing to the horses.”
    “The horses?” Now the admiral appeared even more confused. “Wentforth?”
    Andromeda gave Elliot a small, inscrutable smile. “Yes, very curious.”
    “Donovan,” said the admiral with a sigh, “go drag him from his sudden fascination for animal husbandry and bring him in to meet Miss Elliot. I’m sure the horses will be very well looked after in the baron’s stables without Wentforth’s help.” He turned to Elliot as Donovan snapped to do his admiral’s bidding. “No introduction would be complete without my star pilot.”
    Andromeda helped herself to more tea and sat back in her chair, that same small smile playing about her lips. She was dressed in a most peculiar fashion, as were all the Posts. Fabrics like Elliot had never seen, soft and almost fuzzy, shimmered in the light from the window in dark, rich colors that stood out in the room like Ro’s flowers hidden in a bed of fading autumn leaves. Andromeda and her brother were dressed like the admiral, in trousers, tall boots, and long, full jackets in purple and teal. Though Felicia Innovation looked slightly more traditional in a deep green dress, it featured none of the lace or embroidery on Tatiana’s pink creation. Its only decoration was a pair of golden shoulder epaulets accented with braided tassels. The coats of the other Posts were similarly ornamented.
    Elliot tugged the edge of her dirt-brown sweater down over the waist of her slate-gray trousers. Perhaps she should have taken the housekeeper’s advice and changed, even if it was only into a dress. Luddites tended to wear only the faded, drab colors that could be derived from natural dyes. It had been their tradition long before the Reduction, and of course it had been necessary in the days of scarcity. Elliot supposed these new colors were common in the free Post enclaves.
    Tatiana turned to Felicia. “Are you much involved in the operations of your common-law’s business?” she asked mildly.
    Felicia paused with her teacup halfway to her lips. “Nicodemus is my husband, Miss North. We are free Posts and do not subscribe to the restrictions the Luddites place on their servants.” But she said this all without a hint of malice or defensiveness, and it took a moment for Tatiana to collect herself enough to look offended.
    And Felicia did not allow the feeling to take root. “I am not involved in the operation of the Cloud Fleet, no,” she said. “I am not much of an explorer of the beyond, I’m afraid. Not when there are still so many mysteries to solve here at home.”
    “Mysteries?” Tatiana asked with a raise of her eyebrows. Elliot marveled at the woman’s behavior. Were all free Posts so open with heretical talk like this? Luddites held that nature’s mysteries were meant to remain unsolved. Attempts to improve upon nature had led to the Reduction.
    “Mrs. Innovation is a physician,” Andromeda broke in. “She trained as a healer on the estate where she grew up and has been studying in the field for decades.”
    “My wife is brilliant,” said the admiral. “She’s saved dozens of lives.”
    “Really,” said Tatiana. “Perhaps during your stay you can visit our