The fuel was water, but with a certain magical property that made it extremely potent. Mad said he had to spend some time finding out what that property was and where it came from. If he would be able to replicate the consistency and the potency, then it was over for the Fin – Ted was coming.
Mad still needed to be reminded of the joys of behaving like a normal person and taking a night off every now and then. He said he wanted to finish building his machine, and that said machine would be helpful in building a new kind of airship, something so fast and strong that no one would have ever thought of man building such a vehicle.
Ted tried his best to steer the conversation towards other things and failed.
He poked at the duck on his plate. Funny how the latest incident had made this, too, taste different. He didn't want to live in fear, though.
He ate everything on his plate. He didn't die, or even get sick.
Then the health inspector came on the next day. He had a lot to say about the crammed sleeping quarters.
Ted knew he was unlikely to get away with murdering this man, no matter what he did, magically speaking.
"There are no -"
"Cor, I can understand why you might not be concerned, but all kinds of vermin come out of their holes when the hygienic conditions are this poor. I would issue a warning, but the required improvements will take much more time than two weeks, which is the normal adjustment period after the warning. Would you like to sign the papers for the cessation of -"
"I will sign nothing, but I will give you money."
It just slipped from Ted's mouth. He was used to getting his way with gold. Now, though, he was still on a budget. Health inspectors were notoriously hard to bribe.
This was the case with Mr. Whateverwashisname. Ted thought it was Cratch, but he could have misheard.
The sum Mr. Supposedly Cratch named was not within the budget.
Ted agreed anyway, knowing he could always make some daring investments or, in a really tight spot, ask for Eknie's family to help. That option was not a pleasant one, though. The elderly still expected Ted and Eknie to eventually get married. This was not in Ted's original plan, but for practical reasons, he had to seriously consider losing his bachelor's freedoms.
The bribe made the health inspector problem go away, but now Ted was faced with a new terror. It was such a foreign feeling for him to have no money for something he really wanted. Of course he had absolute confidence when it came to his abilities to survive and adapt, but this was not his expertise. He didn't want to be broke. People who were broke were idiots and had certainly done something to deserve it. He had done nothing to deserve this.
Ted would have to make up for the bribery, and the general financial situation in Sennas looked a bit too unstable. He didn't trust his current investments to get him the kind of profits he would have needed.
The other option, Eknie's family, was a dubious one at best. Ted got an idea, though.
He could get what he wanted by arranging a fake wedding.
This would be a royal humiliation to Eknie, a way to gather the support of her family, and a fun day spent mostly smoking cigarettes in the backroom with Mad while the women were weeping in the front of the party. At least, that was how Ted visualized the whole thing.
"Eknie," he said with a malevolent grin as he explained the situation with the health inspector. "We got no warning, except that our budget is in the zone we don't want it to ever visit again. I am going to need you to pretend to be my wife. That'll fix everything."
Ted sometimes thought that Eknie could snap any minute. It seemed like a probable outcome. She was more than capable of killing him, but it went the other way, too. It was a bit unbelievable, her total and complete submission, her malleable obsessiveness, and the way Ted just knew she knew of every little thing he did. She had her little songbirds all over the city. She received reports whenever he went somewhere without her, and that locket pressed against her chest held within a single strand of his hair. Luckily enough, Eknie was not a witching woman, otherwise Ted would have taken the locket away.
She cried, tears suddenly spilling out from her eyes as wide streams messing up her eyeliner. She took her handkerchief, even though Ted would have preferred her to use his handkerchiefs. They had his initials on them and everything, and this was why he kept them, even though to him, there was nothing less sympathetic than a crying person. It was another way to own a person, to console them and at the same time say: your tears were sponsored by yours truly. Quit weeping.
"I know you want to do it for real one day," Ted groaned. "Now is not the time. Mother of worms, Eknie, you need to understand – I don't want to leave you a widow if something goes wrong with the sun god."
This, of course, was not true in the slightest. Ted intended to outlive everyone he knew.
"And really, I don't want another complication with my cult. I thought I would start marrying off one cultist to another, and if I get to choose and take the best for myself, it won't look good."
"I know most of that is a lie," Eknie said between her violent sobs. "But do you really think I am the best?"
"Eknie, mistress of death and blood, how could you see another woman as your superior?" Ted shook his head, now going for that uncanny honesty he was seldom capable of. "You are the greatest of all women. Do not ever think I would think otherwise, do not disrespect my good reason like that."