Master of Myth (The Antigone's Wrath Series Book 1) by Starla Huchton Page B

nod before she started speaking. “Before we finalize our deal, I have a few questions I need answers to on behalf of the captain. First, your name and a bit about your occupation, sir?”
    Silas nodded. “Of course. I’m Silas Jensen. This is Edison Maclaren, my apprentice. I own a shop in Pevensey, England where I deal in antique books.”
    “You said you were a machinist, did you not?” She arched an eyebrow.
    “I did. The shop was my father’s. I run my true business from my workshop downstairs, mostly repairing things locally, but I also take paid commissions for new equipment fabrication. Some of my inventions are not made entirely of conventional pieces. I create machines from existing enriched pieces, if you understand my meaning.” He looked to each of them for a sign of comprehension. The woman seemed intrigued. The man gave no indication either way. “It’s not my preference to work with such materials, but as my work is on a by-piece basis, I generally have little control of this.”
    “Do you create weapons?” The older gentleman asked bluntly, his words colored by a French accent.  
    Silas straightened, insulted at the question. “I do not build weapons. My focus is household gadgetry and the occasional novelty piece.”
    “But it is not beyond your capability to do so?”
    “My capabilities have nothing to do with it.” Silas frowned. “It is beyond my own moral sensibilities to do so.”
    The questions grew more hostile. “What is your business at our final destination?”
    “I’m in need of a translation. I’m in possession of an obscure text and the only scholars that could interpret it for me reside in that part of the world. It is quite the oddity and very old.”
    “So you do deal in antique books from time to time?”
    Silas tried not to let his agitation show. Was it not enough that he would be paying these people and possibly working for them? “I deal with my father’s old stock, but this is another matter entirely. It’s to do with my latest commission. I cannot know the extent of or complete my work until I know what the text says.”
    “May I see this book?”
    Silas ground his teeth in agitation. He would not have his privacy invaded to ease this man’s conscience. “Unless you are an officer of the law, the answer is no. My possessions are my own business and you have no right to them. However, I have a copy of one of the pages that I will gladly show to Captain Sterling when we are aboard. I do not have it with me.” The man’s eyes narrowed at this response, but Silas would not relinquish a thing. “What is your name, sir?”
    “I am Danton DuSalle.” His expression did not change. “Master-at-arms and head chef.”
    “Master-at-arms and… Head chef?” Silas asked, baffled.  
    “Not so curious a combination if you’ve ever tasted his food.” The woman defended Danton’s title. “I’m Iris Singh, First Mate. Monsieur DuSalle, I believe he has satisfied your curiosity?” This struck Silas as more of a statement than an inquiry. Danton said nothing more, so Iris continued. “As for your fee, the captain has agreed to take you and your apprentice aboard for no less than two hundred each, and may exercise the right to put your hands to work at any time. Is this acceptable to you?”
    Silas nearly choked on the last of his ale as the amount of money she asked of him registered. This was nearly a year’s worth of wages, pending there was a constant flow of business, but the Brotherhood provided him with a large sum to spend at his discretion, however much he detested doing so. He made a quick mental calculation, noting that this would leave him very little for the return trip. There was nothing to be done for it. He could tell from the look in Ms. Singh’s eyes and the cold stare from Monsieur DuSalle that there would be no negotiations. He sighed. “It pushes my finances to its very limit to do so, but I agree to these terms. When is the scheduled