ã€ŠBeneath the Moonã€‹


 Chapter I

    A figure stood in the shadows, back pressed against the bare wall. Slowly, silently, it turned to look around the corner. Nothing moved in the hallway. It placed a foot around the corner, feeling the wooden floor for pressure plates. Not a single click, no raised planks. Safe enough. The figure dashed around the corner, running down the bare hallway in a crouch. The door to the atrium stood ahead, tall and imposing. The figure pressed its fingertips to the space around the doorknob and pushed. Couldn¡¯t be too careful about doorknobs. The door swung open, light spilling into the passage. Undaunted, the figure continued through the doorway, taking only a small moment to let its eyes adjust to the well-lit open space before it.

    The atrium took up the main area at the center of the academy, a circular open space running through all the floors. Black banners hung from the balconies, matching the dark color of the stone below. At the top, the atrium narrowed to a point, from which hung a candle-lit chandelier of wrought iron. Lanterns at regular intervals guaranteed that shadows fled. In the center of the ground-floor level stood a guard with a crossbow, sweeping the area around him like he expected the shadows themselves to attack him. He had a right to be afraid.

    The figure prowled around the perimeter of the fourth floor atrium balcony. The best way down would be to blend in. One end of a knotted rope went around the balcony railing, the other dangling just above the first floor, out of sight. Like the banner behind it, the rope had a dark hue. As the guard completed another sweep of the still shadows, the figure vaulted over the balcony railing and grabbed hold of the rope, sliding down until its feet hit the knot at the bottom. The ground floor looked no more than four meters away now. The figure hovered in front of the black banner, blending in with the fabric. The guard passed over it, eyes passing quickly as he detected no movement other than the faint rippling of the fabric. With one fluid movement, the figure kicked off the banner and let go of the rope, falling to the floor below, and rolling on impact. Not so much as a faint echo. The figure ducked behind the nearest pillar and took in what it had just seen.

    The ground floor of the atrium widened from the rest and had easily twice the space, with the portion under the upper floors supported by pillars that were just out of sight from someone looking down from a balcony. Off to the figure¡¯s left, the main entrance to the academy towered menacingly, tall wooden doors with iron bands around them. The chandelier¡¯s light from the very top of the atrium barely reached down here, so each pillar had a lantern behind it. Which meant the faces of those tied to the pillars were cast in shadow.

    There were twelve, one for each pillar ringing the atrium. The oldest was still a child, not yet achieving the ten dozen moons needed to receive a moonbeam. The youngest had maybe six or seven dozen moons. The child on the opposite side of the pillar the figure had hid behind had her head down, either in sleep or in defeat. She had chestnut-brown hair, a rare occurrence here on a Spire. She¡¯d probably been taken from an alleyway, somewhere no one would miss her. She meant nothing to anybody. She was nothing.

    The figure slid a shortblade from its forearm sheath and edged around the stone pillar until it could reach the little girl¡¯s throat. It would be quick, painless. To the girl, it would be a blessing, an end to the misery of her final days. The shortblade stopped millimeters from flesh.

    The figure strained, but its arm stayed where it was, refusing to move the blade closer. Sweat beaded on the figure¡¯s forehead as the arm continued to resist. All the figure had to do was slash once with the shortblade and it could leave in honor.

    The guard with the crossbow turned back, crossbow suddenly aimed at the figure¡¯s head. The figure froze, a real terror coursing through its body. This, tonight, this was real. It would die just the same as a hostage. And yet¡­ the guard continued turning, sweeping the weapon around and away in the same circle as before. The figure pushed one more time, trying to move its arm. The blade stayed where it was.

    By the time the guard came around once again and looked at the pillar, the figure was gone. The child still slept.

    The figure pushed through the door to its room, black hair dripping with sweat. Everything had to go. Nothing could be left that would give them an advantage in finding it. It had to go somewhere, anywhere other than here. It was no longer safe to stay. The figure swiped all the small trinkets on the shelf into its bag and stacked the weapons from the corner on top. The money from the wall safe went in its pocket. The window was open now, a rope hanging down to the ground outside. The figure slung the pack on its shoulder and swept the room for any last trace of possessions. Nothing. They couldn¡¯t bring it back here, no matter what. The figure climbed over the windowsill and grabbed hold of the rope. It slid down to the cobblestone road, let go of the rope, and vanished into the dark night amidst the torch-glow from the surrounding buildings.

    The Ambassador had returned. At least, everyone said she had. Ambrose wasn¡¯t sure he believed them. It had been at least three dozen moons since she¡¯d come back this quickly after administering the tests. And last time this had happened, someone left with her and hadn¡¯t come back.

    But this time he wasn¡¯t going to ignore her, not like all the other times. This time he¡¯d taken the tests.

    ¡°Ambrose! Where are you?¡±

    He sighed. ¡°Right here, Mother. Out front.¡± From the twisted front porch, the hill continued down and towards the town proper. The roof of the townhouse poked up over the faded-blue leaves of the trees. If only he could just stay here and keep looking at the brilliant art of nature. Those would distract him until the bustle settled down and he could know why she¡¯d returned.

    Ambrose felt a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Still watching the trees to make sure they don¡¯t move?¡±

    ¡°Well, they haven¡¯t moved yet. So it must be working.¡± He paused. ¡°What if it¡¯s me this time? What if I¡¯m going to leave and never come back?¡±

    ¡°Is that what you¡¯re worried about?¡± His mother ruffled his hair. ¡°If you leave, you¡¯re going to learn so much. You¡¯ll be a lot smarter than both of us here. And I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll get to come back up at some point. They can¡¯t keep you down there forever.¡±

    ¡°I guess not. I can¡¯t imagine living down there for years without ever seeing plants and nature.¡±

    Ambrose¡¯s mother gave him a hug. ¡°Come on. We¡¯ve still got things to do around here. There will be a meeting tonight with the Ambassador. We won¡¯t know anything until then.¡± She looked down at him. ¡°I have a fresh batch of striker silk that I need to spin. Maybe you can help me with that.¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± That¡¯ll be a good distraction.

    ¡°Let this session of the Hillcrest Council be called to order.¡± The dignified man at the head of the long table hit two wooden blocks together before setting them back on the hard surface. He looked around the room at the scattering of faces, illuminated by the lanterns hung from the ceiling. The old man remained absent, most likely sick with winterflu. And probably for the best too. He tended to rile up the louder advocates, and, with this showing, the council leader already knew it would get more out of hand than he liked. He breathed in a chilly breath of air, the white-grey wooden walls doing little against the night air. ¡°Secretary, please present to the Council the current issues.¡±

    ¡°Of course. Perhaps we should start with the most obvious. The Engineers have called for another of our numbers to join them in the caverns below.¡±Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    The young woman at the end of the table rested her head on a fist, doing her best to look utterly bored. ¡°I don¡¯t see why this is an issue¡­¡±

    ¡°Quiet, please. You will have time to speak.¡±

    ¡°Now just a minute. I outrank all of you. I shouldn¡¯t even have to be sitting here listening to this. Moons above, you should be listening to me.¡±

    ¡°You are in our jurisdiction, and thus you must obey our rules. Silence, please.¡±

    The Ambassador sighed the longest sigh the man had heard. ¡°Continue.¡±

    The secretary shuffled his papers nervously. ¡°Those against this action, please state your reasoning.¡±

    A man with a cropped beard rose from midway down the right side of the table, poking at the wooden surface like his finger was the tip of a dagger he intended to puncture it with. ¡°Indeed I shall. Every so often, without advance notice, one of us is spirited away out of society, often without our consent. Their talents and work are lost to us and we can do nothing! This cannot be allowed to continue.¡±

    A few of the wizened figures around the table grumbled in agreement, although the response stayed surprisingly subdued.

    The Ambassador took offense anyway. ¡°Well pardon me, but that¡¯s not really something you get to have a say in. The Engineers are the reason you¡¯re safe and can live out here. We therefore have the power to make such decisions as pertains to that.¡±

    The man with the beard looked like he wanted to run the Ambassador through with a spear. ¡°You say that, but what is there to be protected against? We can do just fine up here without your help.¡± He clipped the last word like it left a sour taste in his mouth.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care. This matter is not up for debate.¡± The Ambassador shrugged. ¡°The boy is coming with me back down to the caverns. That¡¯s where he belongs.¡±

    Ambrose lowered his eye from the crack in the wall where he¡¯d been listening in. So someone had passed the tests. And that someone would be leaving for good. And it could be him. He pressed his ear to the crack. Eventually the Ambassador had to announce the name of the person selected.

    ¡°How do you even know this person is useful? It could be I¡¯m taking someone off your hands who is simply a drain on resources right now.¡±

    ¡°Now that is just despicable! Everyone here has some purpose, or they wouldn¡¯t still be here.¡±

    Just say it already. Say my name!

    ¡°This person isn¡¯t so integral to the fragile economy up here that taking him away would throw it out of alignment. You¡¯d barely even notice he¡¯s gone.¡±

    ¡°And just who is this person?¡± Here it is here it is¡­

    ¡°Ambrose Bentspring. In the house on the hill over to the east.¡±

    That was all he needed to hear. He¡¯d passed the tests. The Engineers wanted him. And considering this meeting, he couldn¡¯t waste a minute.

    Ambrose tore through the wilderness, over the tall blue grass, under the low-hanging branches. The hill came into view, barely discernible unless you knew what to look for through all the foliage. Ambrose barrelled for the house at the top, the small misshapen porch he¡¯d been standing on earlier that day lit by a single dim cylindrical lantern. The warm light reflected off the blue leaves of the nearest trees. Trees he wouldn¡¯t see for a very long time if he left. But the excitement propelled him forward anyway. In a second he was up the hill and through the door, into his room where his few possessions were stacked. He piled them all into a beaten messenger bag and threw the strap over his shoulder. As long as he found the Ambassador soon after he left, he wouldn¡¯t need to take any food with him. His mother and sister needed all that they had right now.

    Ambrose looked over the empty shelf and the hastily made-up bed crammed in the corner. They hadn¡¯t been bare like that since the day they¡¯d moved in here. That felt wrong. But for the moment, he didn¡¯t care.

    ¡°Ambrose? What¡¯s going on?¡± His mother appeared in the doorway.

    ¡°It¡¯s me, Mother! I passed! The Ambassador is here for me!¡±

    His mother¡¯s face lit up. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s wonderful! When do you leave?¡±

    He looked out the front window, suddenly sure someone had followed him from the Council Hall. ¡°As soon as possible. The Council doesn¡¯t want me to leave. I figure that if I can follow the Ambassador as she leaves the Council Hall, I¡¯ll be safe enough.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a good plan.¡± She frowned a little. ¡°You¡¯re going to be missed. Especially by Sylvie.¡±

    ¡°I know. I wish I could say goodbye to her.¡±

    His mother hugged him tightly. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t keep you. Please be safe. And come back as soon as you can.¡±

    A small head poked out of one of the nearby doorways. ¡°Where are you going, big brother?¡± Sylvie wiped some of the sleep out of her eyes, although her eyebrows still drooped.

    ¡°I have to go away for a while. I¡¯ll be out of reach. But I¡¯ll be safe. And I¡¯ll come back. You take good care of Mother, all right?¡±

    Sylvie smiled. ¡°Okay.¡± She toddled over and hugged Ambrose¡¯s leg. He knelt down and hugged her back.

    ¡°Alright, I really need to go.¡± Ambrose peeled away his little sister¡¯s arms and stood up.

    ¡°Be safe. Know that you¡¯re always welcome back here.¡±

    He winked. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll be back one day. Hopefully one day soon.¡±

    Before he had the urge to wait a little longer and stare off the porch into the trees, Ambrose turned and jumped through the open doorway. His feet slid on the blue-brown leaves that had fallen just a few days ago. One glance back, back towards the lantern and the faces of his mother and sister. Towards his old home. He fixed the image in his memory. Whatever happened, he wouldn¡¯t forget.

    But he couldn¡¯t leave yet. He had one more place to go. Ambrose took a right before the town, towards the looming mountains. He ran through trees tall and thin, low-hanging and soaring. Right before the mountains soared up, a small patch of grass stood proudly, completely open to the sky without trees to block the moonlight. On the right night, you could lay down and see directly up to the stars. The Celestial Compass and Honor¡¯s Wrench shone brightly on those nights.

    Tonight seemed to be a good night for stargazing. Someone sat in the tall blue grass, staring up at the sky, her long brown hair blending with the grass like mist. She turned as Ambrose stepped into the clearing, barely ten steps away. Even in the dim light, he could see two teartrails on her face. ¡°I heard them announce your name.¡± With a speed that frightened him, she jumped up and ran to him, wrapping him in the most monstrous hug he¡¯d ever seen. ¡°Why do you have to leave?¡±

    ¡°The Engineers want me to go. They need more people. To keep everyone up here safe.¡±

    ¡°But what if you just stayed here? With me?¡± She pulled back a little and stared into his eyes.

    For the first time since the Ambassador¡¯s announcement, Ambrose felt a twinge of regret. But the excitement still bubbled under the surface.

    ¡°I need to know more. I need to learn.¡± He looked back towards the town and the lights shining faintly through the trees. ¡°I need to go. The Council wants to keep me here to spite the Engineers.¡±

    ¡°Do you have to? You could at least stay here with me tonight. I have an extra bedroll.¡±

    ¡°Lillien, you know I have to go. I wish I could stay.¡±

    She released him and grasped his arms, looking into his eyes. ¡°Promise me you¡¯ll write.¡±

    ¡°I promise.¡±

    A conflicted look crossed Lillien¡¯s face, teartrails starting to glisten again. She leaned forward and kissed him. The taste of salt was overpowering. After only a second, she broke away.

    ¡°Lillien, I¡­¡±

    ¡°Go.¡± She waved her hand. ¡°They¡¯ll be looking for you once they find you¡¯re not at home. The sooner you leave, the safer you¡¯ll be.¡±

    ¡°Lil¡­¡±

    ¡°Go!¡± Ambrose felt a tear fall as he turned and dashed out of the clearing. For now, he needed to get away and to the Council Hall. Once he found the Ambassador, he¡¯d be okay.

 Chapter II

    Akio turned another page in her book, leaning against the icy windowpane. Outside, the raindrops chased each other across the glass surface. The dim light filtering through the clouds gave the landscape beyond the rain a fantastical cast. As for reading, she had a candle burning softly next to her. The flame and the rain were so similar in so many ways¡­

    This book told of travel, of chasing a monster across the land and fighting fatigue, hunger, and discouragement. Each time she read it a warm feeling settled on her shoulders and spirited her off into a world where she roamed free like the raindrops. And she could do all of it from her comfortable marble slab right beneath the window.

    She shifted again and placed her other shoulder against the window as the rainy cold finally made its way through the thin fabric. It happened quicker and quicker every time. Each of these dresses wore down faster than she¡¯d thought possible, and her stepfather refused to spend the money to have new ones fashioned. An unnecessary expense, he called it. Spending time with her fell into that category as well. Not that she wanted to be around him any more than necessary.

    Muffled footsteps sounded in the hallway, softened by the carpet. Akio quickly blew out her candle and huddled in the corner of the alcove, behind the curtains and by the window. Chances are some servant had simply decided to take a different route today. But it could be her stepfather. And if he ever saw her reading instead of doing her chores again, he¡¯d probably burn the book. No, he¡¯d burn all her books. And she didn¡¯t even want to know what would happen to her. The dungeon had a new set of sketchy figures every week. Please just keep walking.

    A hand reached out of the curtain and gripped her shoulder. Akio tensed, waiting for the worst. A face followed the hand, grinning. The hand relaxed its grip.

    ¡°Sora! You can¡¯t scare me like that!¡± Akio pulled open the curtains and slid over to the edge of the windowsill, letting her feet dangle over the edge.

    ¡°I thought I might find you here.¡± He boosted himself up and sat next to her on the windowsill. The dragonflies in her stomach started flitting around again, just like they did every time he showed up.

    ¡°Why are you here? Don¡¯t you have things to be doing?¡±

    Sora smiled. ¡°I think you should ask yourself that question.¡±

    ¡°Well, obviously I¡¯m reading. What does it look like I¡¯m doing?¡± She grinned. Sora was the only person that could make her this happy.

    ¡°Okay, Honored Akio of Tallspire. What are you reading today?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a story of adventure. Two men go on an expedition to find a monster. Sometimes I wonder who¡¯s chasing who.¡±

    ¡°Adventure? That sounds nice.¡± Sora paused. ¡°Maybe we should go have some adventures of our own one day.¡±

    ¡°You mean leave here? I don¡¯t know¡­¡±

    Sora looked over at her. ¡°You do realize that one day you¡¯re going to have to leave this place. Maybe even leave Tallspire. There are other Spires out there, you know.¡±

    ¡°I know. Mother taught me about them. But even back then, they seemed like places out of a book. So far off that they might as well be fiction.¡±

    ¡°Akio, I¡¯ve been to all but one of them, including the Sixth Spire. The closest one is a few days of hard sailing from here.¡±

    ¡°Really? You never told me that.¡± She raised her eyebrows. ¡°Are you telling the truth? Yukima will know if you¡¯re not.¡±

    ¡°I swear on the moon that I¡¯m telling the truth. They¡¯re definitely real.¡±

    Akio stared down at her swinging feet, trying to form the words. ¡°Do you think that maybe you could take me to them? I want to see them now.¡±

    Sora took her hand. ¡°I¡¯d love to.¡±

    He spidered his fingers up her arm, sending a shiver through her. She yanked her hand away. ¡°Hey!¡±

    Sora hopped off the windowsill. ¡°I need to get back to my duties before your stepfather gets too suspicious. But when you think you want to leave, let me know.¡± He held out his hand and helped her down to the carpeted stone.

    Akio collected her book and candle in one hand and gave Sora a hug with her other arm. ¡°Alright. Not today. Probably not tomorrow. But one day.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be afraid of the unknown, Akio. It¡¯s the only thing that will teach you something new.¡± Sora let go and smiled again. ¡°Good luck, my moonbeam.¡± He spun around and marched away down the hall, whistling softly to himself. Akio headed the other direction, back towards her room. She needed to hide all the evidence of her bookworm-ness before anybody caught her. And maybe she¡¯d finally get started on that polishing job the duke had assigned her early that morning.

    Creed pulled a lantern off the wall and set it on the table. ¡°Everyone come over here. We¡¯ve got a raid plan.¡±

    Cheer looked up from the charcoal picture she¡¯d been sketching, a map of the town. They already had several, but it never hurt to have extra maps. Especially disposable ones. She reluctantly set the charcoal pencil and paper on a small ledge cut out of the rock face and walked over to the center of the cave chamber where the planning table stood.

    Trust poked his head out of a chamber off the passage to the outside, his white-blonde hair tied back and yet still covering part of his face. ¡°Another raid? Didn¡¯t we just do one a few days ago? I seem to recall planning one.¡±

    ¡°We did. But I planned another one.¡±

    ¡°Hold up. You planned a raid? Isn¡¯t that my job?¡±

    Creed shook his head. ¡°No, it¡¯s what you like to do. And this particular job interests me, so I planned it.¡±

    Trust shrugged. ¡°Whatever.¡± He tipped his chair back out of view and walked out of the hole in the wall a few seconds later. The black pencil behind his ear contrasted with his hair.

    ¡°I swear on the moon, if I see another stupid little contraption in my room¡­¡± Mantra stomped out of another chamber and into the passage, shaggy black hair shining in the lantern-light. ¡°Ooh, another raid! What¡¯s the deal with this one?¡±

    Creed folded his arms. ¡°You¡¯ll see when Levity gets out here.¡±

    From the ceiling of the passage, a rope dropped down through the hole, and a girl slid down and landed in a crouch. Her faded-purple braid hung all the way down her back, tied with a crossbow-string. She¡¯d ripped the sleeves off her latest shirt, showing the tattoos underneath. Her left arm bore was a crescent moon, cracks spiderwebbing their way across its surface. Opposite that, a bear paw darkened her right arm, the claws tapered down to nothingness. Everyone except Cheer had a tattoo of some sort; Creed had a pattern of dots around one bicep and a set of crossed knives on the other arm, Mantra had a warhammer on his forearm and a rat creeping around his leg, and Trust just had a shield on his side. He rarely exposed it though.

    ¡°Why do we have to go on another raid? I have things to do around here. And we really ought to keep working on the lookout up top.¡±

    ¡°Just sit down and I¡¯ll tell you.¡± Creed stood up while Levity found a seat with the others. ¡°Now, yes, we did just have a raid. But I¡¯ve been watching the weather, and we¡¯re about to get a big rainstorm. The clouds have patterns in them that I haven¡¯t seen for at least a mooncycle. We¡¯re going to want more supplies for the lookout and for the entrance. Beyond that, our stockpile of cloth and needles is running low. Mostly because someone kept breaking all the needles.¡±

    Mantra frowned. ¡°I didn¡¯t do it on purpose! Okay, well maybe one or two of them were on purpose. But they¡¯re so much fun to break!¡±

    Creed shrugged. ¡°My point stands. It also wouldn¡¯t hurt to find a new set of tools. I don''t think we''ll have to carve any new drainage routes, but I personally would like to see some of these rooms touched up.¡±Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    Cheer looked down at the paper on the table. ¡°That¡¯s already a lot. What¡¯s the plan?¡±

    ¡°I tagged a box of clothes down near the bakery a day or two ago. We can either use the clothes or rip them up and use them to patch the screen. Trust, I want you to find that box and take what you can from it. The wood won¡¯t be worth much, so take a bag.¡±

    ¡°Is this because it¡¯s unlikely someone¡¯s going to show up while I¡¯m there?¡± Trust pulled the black pencil from behind his ear and twirled it.

    ¡°Yes. Levity, I¡¯d like you to go pilfer some supplies from the sewing shop. You¡¯re good with small items. Mantra, if you can manage without making a scene, there¡¯s a stack of wooden panels near the lumberyard. We could use a few of those for the hideout. Oh, and Levity, if there¡¯s a container of glue or sap somewhere, that would be really useful.¡±

    ¡°Which puts me in charge of tools?¡± Cheer leaned over the map.

    ¡°Yes. Don¡¯t mess it up.¡±

    ¡°Thanks for the vote of confidence, Creed.¡± Cheer leaned back in her chair. ¡°When do we leave?¡±

    ¡°Tonight. We¡¯ll hit right before the rain. Hopefully the water will wash away our tracks and we¡¯ll have a clean getaway.¡±

    ¡°Great. I¡¯ll go get ready.¡± Cheer stood up and turned on her heels, heading back to her corner. The drawing would go back in her offshoot of the cave. Then she¡¯d find her cloth wraps. It wouldn¡¯t do to lose hold on something she was pilfering.

    Creed whispered something to Levity as Cheer walked away, too soft for anyone else to hear.

    Why did it have to be today? Prince Hyeon stared out across the city, his gaze settling on the stoic mountains at the edge of civilization. Soon he¡¯d rule it all. For years that had been all he could dream of, all he could think about. But now, on the cusp of fulfilling such dreams, he doubted. What if he wasn¡¯t the right one? Surely there were others out there who were smarter and more wise.

    The mountains normally gave Hyeon a sense of peace and sturdiness. But today they seemed darker. Almost like they were hiding something. The stories came flooding into his mind, spurred on by the dream he¡¯d had last night. Engineer savages, raking his entire city across the whiterocks. Not a living soul left. And then they all disappeared without a trace. Just like before.

    He¡¯d had dreams like this for many mooncycles.

    No, the mountains looked too dark to be innocent. No one knew where the Engineers had fled to, but it had to have been the other side of the mountains. They¡¯d scoured the isles and the Spires, every square centimeter checked and rechecked. His ancestors had made sure the Engineers left no trace, no secret traps. And yet they couldn¡¯t keep the fear and the worry from the minds of the people.

    Hyeon had to be emperor. It was his calling in life. But beyond that, he had something that no one else had. A drive to find the Engineers and put an end to their reign of terror. That alone qualified him to lead the empire.

    Focus. There will be time for plans. Right now, your people need you.

    ¡°Your Eminence?¡± Hyeon started and pulled his gaze from the dark mountains. In the doorway of the balcony stood a servant girl, hands clasped behind her, gold highlights weaving through rich fabric on her uniform. Everyone had to look their best today. He nodded to her. ¡°The princess Nari wishes to see you. She¡¯s in her quarters.¡±

    ¡°Thank you. I shall make my way there.¡± The girl nodded and spun around, retreating back into the darkness of the palace. Hyeon straightened his own uniform, a mix of light blue white, and silver. He wished it consisted of the normal colors, jade and royal gold. But as the head of the government changed shoulders and a new emperor rose, they needed all the blessings they could get. Yukima would only bestow blessings if she were honored. Hyeon still doubted her, to some degree, he had no interest in being called a heretic. Only the most vocal among his opposition would dare make such a claim, but he couldn¡¯t afford to concede even that. He had to have the people on his side, and religion did that best. Well, second best way, after national security.

    Hyeon pushed through the balcony doors, the wood panels closing and sealing behind him. Even here, in the heartland of the empire, the influence of the Engineers couldn¡¯t be escaped. Every advance, every piece of new technology they had from the Engineers. The royal tinkerers couldn¡¯t even begin to match what the savages had done. On second thought, when he found the Engineers, he wouldn¡¯t kill them. Only the leaders. Without someone to lead and somewhere to run, they¡¯d take his offer and become slaves to the empire. That way they could repay some of the debt accrued by their ancestors and be productive pieces in the empirical machine. He¡¯d treat them fairly. As fairly as they deserved.

    The hallway in front of him stretched long, just as long as his own quarters through the door to the left. On the right, the door to Nari¡¯s rooms stood closed. After the coronation, the architects would tear down the walls that kept the two rooms apart and create one large room for the two of them, befitting of their station. But the balcony would stay. Maybe then they would enjoy their mornings together, watch the moonset before going about their duties.

    Hyeon pushed through the door, noting with satisfaction that just inside were two more servants standing at attention. They wore no visible weapons, but Hyeon had the utmost confidence in their abilities. He nodded once to each of them before staring around the room as he always did.

    Nari had a talent for decoration, at least when compared to him. Instead of the shelves stuffed with books, scrolls, and plates in his own room, tapestries hung lightly on the walls. Most of them depicted nature scenes, lush forests or open fields. Each one had a border of runes stitched in white thread. Pillows sat in every spare corner, as if the princess were afraid she might fall unexpectedly and hurt herself. A mural of a dark sky stretched across the ceiling, constellations traced with lines so thin Hyeon always questioned if they were even there or if he was just imagining them. Each star seemed to have a life of its own. Even with all the decorations, the size of the room always surprised him; it measured easily twenty meters by ten, roughly the same as his. The difference had to be that he¡¯d stacked and crammed books and ornamental weapons into every open space of his own room, so he¡¯d never noticed the size.

    The princess lay across the neatly folded blankets piled atop her bed, dark hair braided and pinned up in an intricate pattern. The sleeves on her dress were long, but much shorter than the current fashion. A tall collar matched his own, although the fabric of the dress contrasted with his robes. Instead of smooth patches, silver thread created the effect of dragon scales. She stared up at the ceiling, fingers laced together on top of her stomach.

    The two attendants retreated to the corridor outside and closed the door behind Hyeon. Nari looked over at him and beckoned him closer. ¡°Happy moonset, my prince.¡± Hyeon tried his hardest to smile just like he normally did, but Nari still creased her lips. ¡°What¡¯s the problem?¡±

    He sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling his feet up and laying beside her. ¡°Am I a good person?¡±

    Nari turned and propped up her head on one hand, elbow on the soft blankets. ¡°Why would you ask something like that? Of course you¡¯re a good person.¡±

    ¡°But am I a good leader? Am I the right person to be in charge?¡±

    Nari rested her free hand on his arm. ¡°Of course you are. I¡¯ve seen you give orders. You know what to do and you care that things get done right.¡±

    ¡°Surely there are other people out there who would do a better job than me.¡±

    ¡°But they¡¯re not here, now, in your shoes. You¡¯ve taken lessons from childhood. You trained for this. Now let yourself be content.¡± She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. ¡°I know I¡¯m content to be right here beside you the whole way through.¡±

    Hyeon felt himself relax a little, but something still nagged at him. He struggled for a moment to put his thoughts into words. ¡°There¡¯s something else too. Something that I can¡¯t just stop worrying about or reason away.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay. You can tell me. I¡¯ll listen.¡± Nari threaded her arm under his body and pulled him close. He stretched out his arm and hugged her back.

    ¡°Night after night, I have nightmares. Sometimes they won¡¯t go away for a whole week. Sometimes there are weeks in between. Once or twice I thought they were gone for good. But each time they creep back into my mind and don¡¯t let go.¡±

    ¡°What are they about, love? Maybe there¡¯s a way I can help with them.¡±

    Hyeon closed his eyes and felt the comforting warmth of Nari next to him. ¡°It¡¯s always the Engineers. Sometimes they find me, other times they plunder and pillage the city, and still others they¡¯re assaulting the walls. Even when I¡¯m awake, they still find a place in my mind. The mountains don¡¯t console me any more. It seems like they¡¯re hiding something.¡±

    Nari combed her fingers through Hyeon¡¯s hair, careful to keep it looking presentable. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. You shouldn¡¯t have to deal with that constant fear. You have enough to worry about as budding emperor. But this is something you must come to terms with. I too have doubts and fears about them, but I cannot allow those doubts to rule me either.¡±

    ¡°What do I do?¡±

    ¡°If you continue to dream of them, perhaps it¡¯s a sign from the goddess in the sky that something is to be done about it. And whenever you feel that time is, I¡¯ll be right here to help you.¡±

    Hyeon smiled, this time genuinely. His fears didn¡¯t dissipate, but they did relent long enough that he could lock them away for another time. For now, for today, he needed to be calm and confident. If he succeeded, the people would love him.

    Nari saw his features relax. ¡°You have a beautiful mind, Hyeon. This land will be blessed greatly from it.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Nari.¡± Hyeon pushed himself up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Nari followed him, standing and pulling him to his feet. ¡°So, are you ready to be crowned Empress of the Sixth Spire?¡±

    She smiled. ¡°Only if you¡¯re ready to be crowned Emperor.¡±

    ¡°Well, I suppose we shouldn¡¯t be late. I need to go fix my hair¡­¡±

    Nari disentangled herself and clicked her tongue at him. ¡°Oh, none of that. Come here and I¡¯ll fix it. Then we can go eat breakfast together. What better way to start the day?¡±

    ¡°Very well. I accept.¡± Hyeon bowed low and earned a poke in the ribs. ¡°Hey!¡±

    ¡°Not behind closed doors you don¡¯t. I¡¯m not a princess here, I¡¯m just Nari. Now sit down.¡±

    Hyeon took a seat in front of a mirror bordered by metal flowers and smiled at his reflection. If he could get his mind to match his appearance, he¡¯d have no problem winning the favor of the people.

 Chapter III

    Lillien had been right, as always. The closer Ambrose got to the Council Hall, the more shouts he heard. Figures dashed about, some carrying lanterns or torches for light. So he clearly needed to stay away from the town proper if he wanted to get away. Ambrose changed course and pulled parallel with the edge of the town. He¡¯d have to take the long way around to avoid being caught. The entrance to the caves lay several kilometers from the Council Hall, and he only knew that much from hearing others talk about it. There was no way he¡¯d be able to find the caves safely on his own. Which meant the Ambassador had to be his best friend for the next few hours. But where would she be? Probably not still in the Council Hall. Maybe headed back to the caverns once it was noised that he¡¯d been found missing? No, she¡¯d stayed to fight for his freedom. She wouldn¡¯t give up now.

    An explosion of red sparks lit up the sky on the other side of the town. The shower seemed to expand quickly and then freeze in the air. Wisps of smoke curled away from the flare, snared by the light wind. No question who had sent up the flare. Ambrose broke into a run again. He didn¡¯t have time to make it to the edge of the time and double back if he wanted to follow the flare. Surely if he could duck behind the bakery and the cobbler¡¯s shop, anyone looking for him wouldn¡¯t have time to really get a good look.

    The masses of people seemed to be converging on the source of the flare as well. He had to get there first. Right at the baker¡¯s, straight across the thoroughfare, in between the cobbler¡¯s shop and a warehouse. The trees on the other side of town rushed to meet him. The shouting hadn¡¯t changed, although it got louder as he approached the people searching for him. One foot in front of the other, around one tree and in between two others. The needles on the ground cushioned his footsteps, taking him ever closer to his goal. Surely he couldn¡¯t have much to go now. The Ambassador had to be around here¡­

    ¡°Hey. Hey, I found him!¡± A coarse voice reverberated off the trees behind Ambrose, sending shivers down his spine. He forced his legs to move faster, air coming only in heaving breaths now. The nights had gotten colder and colder for a long time, the air stinging anything that dared move too fast through it.

    Through the trees, Ambrose saw a lone figure in a gold-and-white jacket. Her hair looked white in the pale early moonlight, although something glittered from the back of her head. The Ambassador scanned the wilderness around her for signs of hostility. Ambrose raised his hands above his head and waved at her, the wide sweeping motions causing him to slow down in order to keep his balance. At the other end of the blue tunnel of foliage, the Ambassador locked eyes with him and raised a weapon.

    ¡°Wait! No! We¡¯re on the same team!¡± The Engineer lined up the sights of the weapon and fired, something streaking out of the short barrel. Ambrose froze up, legs stumbling on the hard ground. He almost tripped and fell onto the needles, catching himself at the last second. The dart soared over his shoulder and curved down, hitting the man pursuing him. With a grunt, the man slowed and dropped to his knees before ripping the barbed needle out. With more luck than effort, Ambrose reached the clearing.

    ¡°Are you ready to go? The Ambassador returned the weapon to her belt and pointed towards the mountains, away from the town. ¡°We¡¯ve still got a ways to go before we¡¯re safe.¡± Without waiting for an answer, she took off through the trees. Ambrose groaned and sucked in a deep breath before puffing out a cloud of condensation and following after her.

    The rain had long since stopped when Akio finally finished her dusting and polishing, coughing and sneezing and breathing a sigh of relief. The manor seemed to fall apart more and more every year as it slowly recognized that all the honor and nobility had long since deserted it. She made do with what she had to fix the small things.

    Akio pushed open the wooden door to her bedroom, careful to only use the smooth part of the wood. It had been splintered once upon a time, just like the rest, but some sanding with a stolen tool had made it more pleasant to use.

    She tossed her dusty cloth in a corner and hung her thin apron on a nail wedged between two stone blocks. Sunlight filtered through the cloudy glass in the small window high on the wall. The window sat at about level with the open fields of grain, the rest of the room underground.

    With all the rain, the temperature had plummeted, leaving her room a few degrees colder than when she¡¯d left it. Akio crossed to the bed after closing the door and wrapped herself in the tattered blanket. She preferred to think of it as ¡®well loved¡¯. Back against the wall, she sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her knees up to her chest, staring out the window at the light. The sun would leave soon, taking his light with him below the horizon. It would flee the moon as she approached until moonlight covered the world.

    Akio closed her eyes and pulled in all the warmth she could. Soon she¡¯d have to start layering clothes to stay warm. No more sitting by the window and losing heat unless she wanted to deal with the consequences afterwards.

    The door next to her banged open, wood cracking slightly as it hit the wall. Akio¡¯s eyes flew open, head snapping towards the sound. Her stepfather stood in the doorway, his hulking figure backlit by the lanterns in the hallway. She cringed instinctively, waiting for whatever accusation or punishment he¡¯d come up with this time

    The duke¡¯s boots scraped on the stones as he stomped into the small room. ¡°You dare disobey my orders! After everything I¡¯ve given you!¡±

    Akio shied away, pulling the blanket tighter around her and trying to make herself as small as possible. She just had to ride out the tirade, like always.

    With a gloved hand, the duke reached out and ripped the blanket from her grasp, tossing it on the dirty floor. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare try to hide from me! Repeatedly, I tell you not to waste your time reading books. Repeatedly, I tell you not to associate with those above your station. You are the lowest of the low. There is no one else as low as you.¡± Akio curled into a ball and looked at the floor. This one hurt more than most.

    But the duke only sneered. ¡°And then I find out from trusted sources that not only are you socializing when you should be working, but you choose to converse and even flirt with my servants!¡± Her stepfather¡¯s hand shot out and grabbed her arm, gloves pinching her skin. He hauled her from the bed and out the door. ¡°This is too good for you. I¡¯ve been too good to you. Those who rebel must learn that they will be crushed. Only then can they start learning the right way to live.¡±

    Akio felt the dragonflies in her stomach again, although this time they were fleeing the darkness that obscured their moonbeam. Her mind raced, trying to figure out what the duke would do with her this time. At least they were on the ground floor. Getting dragged down stairs wouldn¡¯t end well¡­

    Her stepfather turned right and started down a long, bare hallway. The dragonflies grew bigger, buzzing in her ears. Not the basement. Please, anything but the basement. But her mouth refused to move, stuck slightly open. The guard at the door saluted and stepped aside, allowing the duke to pass with his quarry. She stumbled down the rough stone steps, sharp edges tearing at her ankles and the hem of her dress.

    The duke wove through the maze of stone pillars to a locked wrought iron door, pulling a key from his cloak and turning the lock with vicious precision. The gaping maw of the cell opened, darkness within broken only by the dim light from shuttered lanterns. The duke swung her around and pushed her into the shadows. Her knees hit the ground hard only moments before her palms. Akio rolled onto her back and scrambled away, pressing her back against the back of the cell. The duke knelt and clamped a shackle over her ankle before returning to the doorway. His figure cast the darkest shadow of them all. This is what a nightmare looks like.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    The duke held out his hand. ¡°Your moonbeam.¡±

    Akio froze. He wouldn¡¯t. He wouldn¡¯t dare. Instinctively, her hand wrapped around her braid, a blue ribbon woven into it. A small crescent moon pendant dangled from the end, a symbol of her connection to Yukima. She¡¯d gotten it from the priest at ten years old, barely old enough to be initiated and make the necessary promises. Since then, she¡¯d never taken it off, not once in those seven years.

    Her stepfather snarled, crossing the cell over to her and grabbing at her braid. She pushed his hand away, but he slapped her across the face and caught the silver pendant. With a terrible rip he tore the pendant from her hair, ribbon fraying away into nothing. Several threads of blue floated down and lighted upon her dress. She cried out, but the duke had already locked the cell door behind him. The click of the lock shook her like the midnight bell strike.

    ¡°Perhaps now you¡¯ll learn how to obey me. Before the night is through, you¡¯ll kneel before me and beg for mercy.¡± With a swish of his shadowy cloak he disappeared.

    High above, dim light shone weakly through a barred window, refracted and shattered as the rain began to fall again. Akio pressed herself into the corner and wished she could disappear. Her ship slowly sunk within her, soul fading into the darkness below the moonbeams. It would be best if everyone just stayed away. Especially Sora. He had better things to do. Maybe she even deserved to be alone. The emptiness inside her grew until it was a monstrous void, bigger than ever before. So this was what it felt like to lose a moonbeam. Cut off from the goddess, distanced so far that she couldn¡¯t hear your prayers. Alone, with no way back.

    The Ambassador ran through the woods at a speed Ambrose could barely keep up with, her feet never tiring as she pounded a path toward the mountains. The blue-topped trees thinned and then disappeared altogether as the rocky wall in front of them grew bigger and bigger. Then, after cresting another hill, the Ambassador unexpectedly slowed down. Ambrose pulled even with her and resisted the urge to fall on the ground and refuse to get up.

    In front of them, a cave entrance with a metal portcullis barred the way into the cliff. Two guards stood on the other side, crossbows aimed through the holes in the gate. The Ambassador raised her arms and touched them together at the fists. The crossbows lowered.

    ¡°Hail, Engineer! State your name and purpose.¡± The guard on the left placed his hand on a level in the wall.

    ¡°That¡¯s Ambassador to you, Loyalty. And I have our new recruit.¡±

    The guard stared at Ambrose for a moment before shrugging. ¡°He doesn¡¯t look like much. But then again, most of them don¡¯t when they come in.¡± He pulled down on the lever, and the portcullis raised into the rock above.

    ¡°Come on. This marks the start of your new life.¡± The Ambassador strode through the cave entrance and turned around. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. You¡¯ll learn to call this place home.¡±

    Maybe. But I don¡¯t think anything¡¯s going to be able to replace the house on the hill. Ambrose pulled himself together and stepped over the line into the cave. New life. That¡¯s what this would be. The portcullis lowered behind him.

    ¡°Follow me just a little farther this way. I¡¯ll show you the real secret of these caves.¡± The Ambassador kept up her brisk pace as she made her way into the increasing cold of the cave, boots clicking on the smooth stone. Ambrose forced himself to match her steps. They rounded another bend and stopped right before the chamber. The Ambassador turned to him.

    ¡°As Ambassador to the surface towns, I formally welcome you to the world of the Engineers. My name is Peace, and it¡¯s my job to get you started here.¡± She stepped aside and allowed Ambrose an unobstructed view of the chamber ahead.

    The cave defied all description he tried to give it. The walls abruptly dropped away, curved corners opening up to a room the size of the whole town on the surface. In the center of the chamber a golden dome stood proudly, taking up half of the available space. The surface had gold filigree and ornamental bits of copper covering its surface. Each and every piece shone like it had just been polished, complementing the light spilling out from inside. At the base of the structure a pair of tall double doors were rolled open.

    ¡°Welcome to Honor Chamber, named for the first Engineer who discovered it and built this place. It¡¯s the first of the chambers and by far the most important. Several storage chambers are located around the edges, but most everything else is down below.¡±

    ¡°Wow¡­ okay.¡± Ambrose felt like he had to say something, but the words wouldn¡¯t fit together right.

    ¡°And in we go! Peace led the way across the slightly-slippery floor towards the dome. Ambrose followed, still staring up at the metal masterpiece. He knew of no way of building that would leave the welds on something so large that smooth, especially if a whole team had worked on it. The connections were so perfect. It looked like magic.

    The warm light of the open doorway eventually caught his eye, the color of a bright new lantern just before the moon started her ascent. Peace stepped inside and Ambrose quickly followed.

    The inside looked exactly like he¡¯d expected it to. Rooms made entirely out of metal, with rails along almost all of the walls. In the center of the dome a gaping hole in the floor had a free-standing rail around it. Drifting up from below, Ambrose could hear the sounds of hammering and tinkering. Strangely, there didn¡¯t seem to be a way down to the lower floor.

    ¡°This is the entrance level. Up here you have a few spaces for meetings and a stock of food. There¡¯s one more level above this one, and many below it. Down there is the tinkering floor, where you¡¯ll spend most of your time. Later today, you¡¯ll find a mentor there.¡± She looked over at Ambrose. ¡°Or maybe tomorrow for you. It¡¯s the middle of my day schedule right now.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I¡­ that sounds great.¡± As much Ambrose wanted to keep looking around, his head had started to remember how tired he should be. He didn¡¯t normally run like that. ¡°Is there somewhere I can sleep?¡±

    ¡°Of course. Quarters are below the tinkering floor. We¡¯ll take the pulleys down.¡±

    ¡°The pulleys?¡±

    Peace motioned toward some alcoves in the wall to the left. ¡°I¡¯ll show you.¡± Ambrose followed her to the alcoves and looked down at where the floor should¡¯ve been. Only darkness, with a little bit of light way farther down. Peace grabbed hold of a leather-bound strap hanging from the top of the shaft and turned a dial on the end before clicking it in. ¡°This will take you two floors down, right to the sleeping quarters. I¡¯ll be right behind you.¡±

    ¡°I just step off?¡±

    Peace nodded. ¡°Yep, right off the edge. The rope will catch you.¡±

    Ambrose looked down the shaft again while he grabbed the handle. The distance to the light suddenly seemed a lot bigger. ¡°You¡¯re sure this is safe?¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡± Peace pushed him from behind, his feet sliding on the stone before losing contact with the ground. The handle fell with him, the rope connected to it spooling freely. He lashed out, trying to find something to grab onto, and smacked his hand against the side of the shaft. A stinging pain shot through his arm, bringing him to his senses. He kept his arms and legs almost vertical until the rope started to pull upward. Right as he came to a stop, an opening in the wall appeared. He stepped out onto the stone and fell to his knees, letting go of the handle. A few seconds later, Peace appeared in the opening and gracefully stepped onto the new floor.

    ¡°So, what did we learn?¡±

    Ambrose looked up and smiled. ¡°Not to trust you.¡±

    She winked. ¡°Well, that too. Come on, I¡¯ll show you the way to your quarters.¡± Peace walked past him, offering a hand and pulling him up.

    On each side of the wide hallway there were rows of doors, although sometimes other blank passages would run perpendicular and lead to more hallways of doors. She stopped outside a door after taking the first right and then a left. ¡°Number one-nineteen. This¡¯ll be where you stay when you¡¯re not training or eating.¡±

    ¡°One-nineteen. Got it.¡±

    Peace pushed the door inward and it slid aside. ¡°Get some sleep. The mess is already closed, but I suspect an empty stomach won¡¯t be too much of a problem tonight.¡±

    Ambrose had already started a stumbling walk through the doorway. ¡°Sounds fine. See you tomorrow.¡± He heard Peace laughing quietly, but his tired mind didn¡¯t care. There would be plenty of time tomorrow to get her back. For now, that pillow looked really soft¡­

 Chapter IV

    A dense white mist swirled around Ambrose as he opened his eyes. He stood on some hard surface--maybe stone?--but he couldn¡¯t even see his feet. He looked around, trying to find anything other than the same-ness of the fog. There! A dark spot up ahead, right at about waist height. Was it¡­ a table? Ambrose waved his hand through the fog, trying to disperse it. Yes, a table, with a stool in front of it. He walked over to it and sat down.

    A cold metal box sat on the table, its sides flattened into a cross pattern. The inside looked like a mess of springs and gears, with so many parts missing he could see right through it. All across the table, the misplaced parts were mixed with tools and sketches. At the very edge of the mess, a book stuck halfway off the table surface. Ambrose picked it up and opened it to a random page. The paper had been neatly cut and bound, but it had been used long enough that the edges no longer retained their crisp straightness. Scrawled handwriting covered each page, with some pages torn out--probably the pages on the table--and others added in and bearing schematics. The handwriting looked like his own, a familiar swirl at the top or bottom of most of the letters.

    The first picture on the first page showed a closed box, inscriptions engraved on every square centimeter and a set of dials sunk into the surface on one side. He had no clue what it did, but clearly it had been crafted by a master Engineer. He turned the page. With each picture, parts of the box opened and were disassembled, notations explaining how things fit together or speculations on the possible purpose of an assembly. All in the same eerily familiar script.

    Ambrose set down the book and picked up the charcoal pencil from the table, turning to a new page. While the fog stayed, he might as well do something. And if he wanted to put the box back together, he¡¯d have to finish this job and start reassembly from the beginning. Even one wrong step could spell disaster for something of this refined quality. So every part had to come off and be catalogued before he or anyone else made an attempt to reconnect all the pieces.

    He started by drawing a picture of a subassembly in the lower right of the right side, box turned at a forty-five degree angle from his view. The pencil had been sharpened recently, the tip almost cutting through the fine paper as he sketched the assembly. A rough drawing for sure, but it would be enough to figure out what went where when he started his work again.

    It seemed that the mist crowded around him, peering over his shoulder, like it wanted him to figure out what exactly the box was and what it did. Like Lillien used to do when he¡¯d find a broken toy or piece of machinery in the trash. He disconnected a roughly cubic section of interlocked gears and began documenting how the teeth fit together before taking it apart and laying the gears out with the others on the table. At least all the parts were roughly organized by type.

    The exact center of the cube housed only empty space. As he uncovered more and more of the inner workings, that empty space confused him. It seemed like a pedestal or a partially-open compartment for something. Something went there, and whatever it was, it wasn¡¯t here on the table.

    Ambrose set down the book and reached for the expanded cube again, eager to continue his discovery. The mist shifted beneath him, and suddenly the table started moving, inching away from him at first but then slowly picking up speed. He reached for it, trying to stand up and pursue his project, but the ground beneath him gave way and he fell, stool vanishing into the mist. All around him, little wisps of white swirled in his wake as he fell, down, down, down¡­

    From the small village high in the mountains, Mikhel could see everything. The sea shone on the horizon, water glittering in the faint light even from a great distance. The lights of the capital city below also shone, the palace and the temple being the brightest. But the mountains, dark and serene, drew his interest tonight. Not a single fire-light across the whole landscape, just the moonlight on the scrub trees and snow. It looked like the stony points were glazed with a coating of ice, just like the blue-grey needles on the trees at the first frost of the season.

    Without warning, a bright light burst into color above the mountains, blue-green rippling waves with highlights of purple and pink. The light outshone the moon, highlighting the whole mountainside and the capital below. Farther down the slope, the goats in Mikhel¡¯s pen started bleating feverishly. He kept his eyes fixed on the sky. There would be time to calm the goats later. His new fence would hold. This though¡­ he¡¯d never seen anything like this. The mountain lights were never this bright, nor were they ever so abrupt. Usually they would fade into being as the sun set, swirling in lazy patterns over the peaks until they decided to disappear again or until the sun overpowered them. Usually.

    With one bright flash, the lights turned pure white and drowned out the color of everything else on view. Mikhel shut his eyes and braced himself against the light, as if it had a physical presence that pushed back on him. One step without vision and he¡¯d tumble down past the goat pen and into the crevice. When the light receded, he cracked his eyelids and turned his vision back to the space where the bright lights had been. The usual lights were back, slowly rippling, but no sign indicated that he hadn¡¯t just dreamed the whole thing up. The crazy goat farmer living too high in the mountains with not enough air to make his mind work right.

    A shower of sparks crashed through the lights, swirls of shiny colored particles dispersing from the impact sites before twinkling and blinking out. The lights reformed, but the sparks continued to fall, gaining speed and shining brighter. By Yukima¡¯s Crown! The glowing dots grew larger, some of them starting to blink out and others growing in magnitude. Finally, when there were only a handful left, Mikhel started to wonder where they were going to land.

    The largest of the balls of fire impacted on the next mountain peak over, slamming into the rock with such incredible force that a cloud of watery mist and dust surged from the rock like a wave. He watched as the few remaining sky-sparks impacted near the first, throwing up similar clouds of dust and hot chunks of rock.

    Mikhel stared at the scene for a very long time. The chunks of rock quickly fell down the mountain, but the dust and mist remained, lit from above by the mountain lights. The wind stayed utterly still as the slanted pillar of sky-spark remains drifted and spun, dispersing into the air until only a clear haze hung above the impact site. He stumbled from his stupor, the bleating of the goats the only noise in the otherwise quiet night.

    ¡°Mikhel? What was that?¡± A woman poked her head out the door, her long black hair partially covered by an embroidered white cloth.

    ¡°Watch the goats, Aina. I don¡¯t know what it was, but I¡¯m going to find out.¡± Mikhel picked up his walking stick from its place leaning against a lone tree and pulled his cloak closer around him. Whatever had fallen from the mountain lights, it couldn¡¯t be natural. At best, it was just a bunch of rocks. Maybe he¡¯d even find one to set on the mantle. But at worst¡­ well, perhaps his imagination tended to be just a little bit too active.

    Mikhel started to cough long before he could see the impact site. Thick clouds of dust choked the air around the disturbance. When the ground dropped away in front of him, he had to stumble back to avoid falling head over heels into the hole.

    A crater the size of his modest cottage sunk into the ground, the bottom far enough down that he feared hurting himself if he jumped. The rock had turned a chalky white, a stark contrast from the dark grey of the surrounding surfaces. Mikhel squinted his eyes, trying to see through the haze to the thing in the center of the crater. It looked a lot smaller than he¡¯d expected. He circled the crater, trying to get a better look. The ground seemed to slope less on this side. And then a break in the dust cloud aligned with him and the sky-thing came into view. His eyes widened as he realized that it was a who, not a what. All thought of falling gone, he rushed down the side of the crater, using his walking stick to keep himself from tumbling forward. Sliding on the chalky dust bank, he reached the bottom and dropped to his knees on the warm ground. A girl lay in the exact center of the crater, limbs sprawled out as though she¡¯d fallen asleep there among the warm rocks. A fine layer of dust covered her clothes.

    Mikhel waved his hand over the girl¡¯s face. No response. He tapped her on the shoulder, the fabric of her sweater warm to the touch and colored like the mountain lights. She stayed still, except for the rise and fall of her chest with each breath.

    She couldn''t very well stay out here in the cold, especially if anyone from the capital came to investigate the lights. And who knew where she¡¯d come from? She needed a place to stay until she could get her feet under her again. He hoisted the girl from the dust and scorched rock and onto his shoulder, fabric warm and scratchy against his cheek. Slowly he climbed out of the crater, boots slipping on the loose gravel and dust. The darkness messed with his sense of direction, trying to turn him around. He pushed his way out of the cloud of dust and looked around. Mountain to the right, capital lights to the left. The moon gave enough light that he¡¯d be able to see any crevices. Even with relative certainty in his path, it would be a long trek home with another to carry.

    Hyeon stopped just before the door to the Grand Chamber, hands in fists and eyes closed. Nari looked over at him. ¡°You can do this. Really, you can.¡±

    Hyeon opened his eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t know. This is a lot, and I¡¯m not sure I know enough.¡±Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    Nari put her hands on his shoulders and stared him in the eyes. ¡°None of that. You are going to make a great emperor.¡± She straightened the crescent medallion around his neck. ¡°It¡¯s okay to let people see a little of yourself. Just make sure they see the best parts of you.¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± One deep breath. ¡°Starting today, I make the decisions. And right now, I decide to be confident.¡± Hyeon unclenched his fists and smoothed the front of his robes. ¡°I¡¯ll see you by the altar?¡±

    ¡°Just keep walking. They¡¯ll take care of the rest.¡± Nari gave him a quick kiss and walked off to the left. The two attendants stood at attention, opening the doors in sync when he nodded his head.

    He hadn¡¯t expected the silence in the room. So many people were staring down, some talking quietly, some shuffling nervously, some staying as silent as possible. And every single one of them had a title or some important reason to be here. He set off down the narrow corridor in the center, a long white rug pointing the way. His boots made no sound as he advanced.

    The choral scholars along the walls started a haunting, hopeful melody, filling the silence with subtle chords and harmonies. Hyeon reached the altar at the end of the white runway and bowed to the emperor and the priestess behind it before kneeling down to the right.

    The priestess raised her hand and the Grand Chamber fell silent. ¡°We are gathered today to celebrate the accomplishments of our current leadership and to pass that fire to those of a new generation. Those in attendance, please stand.¡± The scholars raised another refrain, this one slower and lighter. Hyeon looked up to see Nari approaching the altar from the side of the Grand Chamber. She knelt opposite him.

    ¡°It is now that we recognize the accomplishments of our Emperor.¡± The priestess drew a scroll from her waist-sash and opened it. ¡°His first victory was in Altebrath, a triumph against a corrupt Duke.¡± The priestess continued on, recounting the battle fought and won. Once or twice a loss was mentioned as well, but only if good came of it. Hyeon resisted the urge to tug at his collar. It would be over soon, and then he would have a chance to show the people that their new Emperor cared about those he reigned over. The people were most important.

    The priestess finished listing the battles and rolled up the scroll, tying it with a light blue ribbon and procuring a small dagger. She laid both items on the altar, in between the prince and princess. ¡°And now, with a lifetime of success, we give the responsibility of guiding this great empire to another.¡± The Emperor coughed, the wet sound hard to cover up. The priestess continued as though nothing had happened, although the important visitors no doubt noticed. The emperor¡¯s slowly deteriorated, a little each day. Soon he wouldn¡¯t be fit for leadership. So his son had to take up the mantle before then.

    ¡°Prince Hyeon, at this time you stand as first in line to the throne. Do you wish to take this position upon you?¡±

    ¡°I do.¡±

    The priestess nodded. ¡°Place your hands on the dagger and scroll.¡± Hyeon followed her instructions, Nari¡¯s hands going over his.

    ¡°Do you solemnly swear that, in every circumstance and situation, you will strive to uphold this empire, in times of peace and war?¡±

    ¡°I swear it.¡±

    The priestess looked up and out at the audience. ¡°Yukima above, look upon us with mercy. At this time of great change, let us uphold our government and religion. Let us remember the divine power that has carried us through this time of prosperity. Bless this man before me, that he may continue this prosperity and lead with grace and dignity.¡± She looked down at Hyeon again. ¡°Do you accept the divine mandate held by this position and all the responsibilities connected to it?¡±

    ¡°I do.¡±

    ¡°Do you take this woman, Nari Reinschild, to be your wife and ruling advisor in all things?¡±

    Hyeon looked across the altar at Nari, smiling. ¡°Yes, I do.¡±

    ¡°Then, by the power vested in me by the goddess of the moon and this empire, I seal you to your role as Emperor and Protector of the Realm, and wed you to Princess Nari. Let the empire rejoice!¡±

    The crowd erupted in cheers, strips of colored ribbon tossed into the air. Hyeon smiled at Nari. ¡°I guess there¡¯s no turning back now.¡±

    ¡°Nope. But we won¡¯t need to.¡±

    The priestess turned to the former Emperor and Empress. They both bowed, smiles visible only to the two at the altar. The former emperor coughed quietly, unnoticed to all but those near the altar. The priestess removed the crowns from their heads, pointed pieces of jewelry that didn¡¯t quite wrap all the way around. Hyeon felt as one of them settled on his head. Although it wasn¡¯t exactly heavy in the normal sense, it had a different kind of weight. He hadn¡¯t expected that.

    Nari smiled at him, the crown on her head glittering in the lantern-light, spires reaching ceilingward. He let go of the dagger and scroll, taking her hand instead and standing. Emperor and Empress together, ready to face the empire and the isles beyond. Something glimmered inside Hyeon, a flame sparking and lighting. Something had begun. And it promised to be glorious and wonderful.

    The skies looked perfect today. Riders generally waited for a clear sky, but a few clouds here and there made it more fun. As long as there weren¡¯t too many, they made good obstacles. Cirris pulled off his leather face mask, the slits for his eyes angled so if he leaned forward the air would go around his head instead of straight into his face. His uniform¡¯s black surface shone in the early morning light, red stripes on the shoulders, leather armor bits adding color in various places. Well, not actually a uniform, just like he wasn¡¯t actually a soldier. But between all the dragon riders, they had agreed; love or fear, people needed to know them and recognize them.

    His dragon roared, the sound echoing down from Slantspire across the whole island. He stroked her dark navy scales right around her neck. ¡°You want to go fly today?¡± Darkcloud nodded her head. She¡¯d been given the name Dark-Cloud-upon-the-Night-Wind-under-the-Moon, but it didn¡¯t take a dragon rider to tell that was a mouthful and then some. When flying, shorter tended to be better.

    Cirris replaced his face mask and grabbed onto the front of the saddle. Darkcloud crouched low before launching off the ledge of black rock. He reached his arms out and let the wind rush around him, not quite strong enough to pull him off. The morning had to be the best time to fly, right after moonset. A faint mist hung in the air, the thick fog fading in the early sun but not quite gone. When he flew in the mist, he could see the trail of air coming off his wing and disappearing into the sky.

    Cirris and Darkcloud made two circles around Slantspire, falling back into sync before trying anything the other riders would call dangerous. With one side flat and one sloped, only clouds presented a less dangerous obstacle. Well, a rider could fly through a cloud. Maybe Slantspire was the least dangerous.

    As they pulled out of the second lap, another dragon launched from the same ledge they¡¯d been on. Cirris dived down and pulled even with the new dragon, this one a deep green with scaly frills around the back of the head and feet. The rider had a mask on, but the red hair that streamed out behind her told him all he needed to know.

    ¡°Morning, Astoria!¡± They generally didn¡¯t talk while riding unless they were high up and the winds were calm enough that they could hear each other, but a few shouted remarks wouldn¡¯t hurt his voice too much.

    ¡°Same. Meet you at the top in two.¡± She and her dragon took off around the Spire, leaving a mist-trail. Darkcloud took him up another few hundred feet to the very tip top of Slantspire. They set down and he dismounted, dropping to the black rock. The top had barely enough space for two dragons, with no way up except to fly. That made it a great place to meet exclusively with other riders.

    Astoria joined him on top of Slantspire at the end of her warm-up laps, jumping off her dragon before they¡¯d even landed. ¡°Nice morning for flying.¡± She looked up at the cloud. ¡°Well, for most of us. Rennick might say otherwise.¡±

    ¡°Let him be a pessimist. It¡¯s perfect.¡± Cirris looked down at the town to the southeast, squinting to make out the tiny bell tower. ¡°Do you have to go down to town today?¡±

    Astoria¡¯s face fell a little. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯d better. They¡¯ll get suspicious if I don¡¯t go at some point this week, and I¡¯d rather get it over with.¡±

    ¡°Want me to go too? I could make an appearance as well, just to let them know I still exist. Add to the mystique.¡±

    ¡°No, I should go alone. It¡¯s better that way.¡± Astoria shook her head and smiled. ¡°Enough about that for now. Why waste such a good morning on unpleasant thoughts?¡±

    Cirris looked out over the familiar coastline. ¡°So I¡¯m hearing that we need to go make a few passes on the harbor?¡±

    She smiled. ¡°You know me too well.¡±

    ¡°Let it never be said that I don¡¯t have fun.¡± He mounted Darkcloud and pulled his mask down. ¡°Race you there!¡±

    He had to give her credit; for the headstart he got, she quickly closed the distance. They raced down from the Spire-top, ground rushing up to meet them. They pulled level with the rushing countryside in the nick of time, a few blue leaves flying off their branches in their wake. He barely noticed as the blue-grey foliage below blurred to clear blue water. Cirris dipped a bit lower, letting Darkcloud¡¯s claw scrape the water¡¯s surface. Astoria dodged out of the way of the spray, yelling something imperceptible. He grinned nonetheless.

    They turned back after a minute of gliding above the water. Up until this point it had been smooth flying, most just gliding down. Now came the real reason Cirris flew. When Astoria came even with him, Darkcloud took off across the surface of the water, wings flapping with a fury only a rider can understand. The thrill of flying coursed through him, tingling at his fingertips and heat in his face. The townspeople could hate dragons all they wanted, but they¡¯d never get to feel this.

    The harbor came into view much quicker than it had disappeared, white-patterned flags flapping in the light breeze. They bore down on it, shooting as straight as an arrow towards the docks. Darkcloud didn¡¯t even have to drop a claw to make a spray now. The water shook as they passed by, the lone worker on the dock scrambling for cover. At the last moment, he and Astoria pulled out of the crossbow-straight course, rattling the shingles on the roof of the dockmaster¡¯s office as they rose into the sky.

    They passed close enough to tap their forearms together as they climbed, spiraling around each other. Cirris closed his eyes and laughed, the sound caught away by the wind. For the moment, they didn¡¯t have to have a care in the world. Life flew free and easy, just like the morning air.

    ¡°Hey, didn¡¯t we get closer last run? And I¡¯ve still got the scar from that time Swampmist had to catch me.¡±

    Cirris waved his hands. ¡°Fine, fine. I know I pulled out a little too soon. I¡¯ll go closer on the next one. Shall we go around again?¡±

    Astoria looked up at the sun. ¡°No, I¡¯d better get back.¡±

    Cirris frowned. ¡°That early? I guess I¡¯ll go fly some patrols on the west side. It¡¯s not as much fun alone though.¡±

    ¡°I know. I wish I could.¡± Astoria spurred her dragon on, back up towards the tall black rock poking up through the ground in front of them. The sky would stay perfect for a while. Maybe he could get in a few high-altitude runs before Rennick actually needed him for something important. Regardless, back to the Spire for now. He spurred Darkcloud on after Swampmist and her rider.

    He didn¡¯t back at the horizon, so he missed the armada of ships slowly making their way from the horizon to the island.

 Chapter V

    When Ambrose awoke, it took him longer than it should have to remember where he¡¯d ended up. Small room, corners rounded. A desk on the far side of the room, within arm¡¯s reach while he was still laying down. A peg higher on the wall next to the door held an earthy, copper-colored jumpsuit. It had a gear-shaped patch affixed to the right shoulder and a golden pin depicting a dashed line attached to the left breast. In front of the jumpsuit a pair of pristine, unscratched goggles caught the faint light from under the door and reflected it. Ambrose felt his stomach do a little flip. Up until this point, it had all felt like a dream, like someone would drop by his room and tell him the previous day had been an elaborate hoax. But those goggles¡­ He could hold those in his hand, stare through them. That more than anything marked someone as an Engineer. Whatever happened now, it had to be real. Andhe had to be ready for it. Starting with the possibility that Peace would show up again and push him down another shaft. A phantom pain fizzled in his hand at the thought.

    Ambrose pushed himself up off the cot and stepped in front of the hanging jumpsuit. It looked about his size. He picked it up and revealed a thin door in the stone behind it. It opened to a tiny room, smaller even than the one he¡¯d woken up in. A small knob on the left wall about halfway up seemed to be the only thing interesting about the room, except for some small holes on the ceiling and in the floor. The air seemed more¡­ humid, like back on the surface when it rained. Ambrose scratched his head. Maybe this was a shower? But that would be so expensive, not to mention all the plumbing needed. However, as his senses caught up and came fully awake, his nose reminded him of his current smell. He¡¯d run several miles through the forest and stayed in a humid cave. Of course he didn¡¯t smell like moondrops. Might as well test the theory.

    The water did feel nice, although it seemed a little cold for his tastes. But the luxury of standing still and letting the moving water do the cleaning more than made up for it. However, as soon as the water turned off, Ambrose wondered what he would do to get the water off so he wouldn¡¯t soak the new jumpsuit when he put it on. No sooner had he thought of the problem than a rush of warm air blasted down from the ceiling through the same holes as the water. The Engineers really do think of everything.

    Ambrose wasted no more time staring at the strange room and wondering about his future, slipping into his uniform and the pair of boots sitting near the door. He had no clue what time he¡¯d woken up, but he definitely didn¡¯t want to be late on his first day in the caverns. Whatever ¡®late¡¯ meant. Out the door, and then was it a left or a right? He¡¯d been too tired to remember last night. And theoretically the corridors were designed in a way that made sense. Ambrose took off to the left.

    After about ten minutes of twisting and turning through hallways of stone, Ambrose finally found the pulleys, although he could have sworn by Yukima¡¯s crown that they¡¯d only been a few turns away the night before. A plaque on the wall showed a cross-section of the caverns, labelling each floor. The one right below ¡®Honor Chamber¡¯ bore the label ¡®Invention Floor¡¯. What had Peace said? Most everything happened there? Then he needed to go there. He looked over into the open shaft. On the end of the handle hanging nearest to him a small dial had numbers around the edges. Or, no, not numbers, but letters. ¡®P¡¯ furthest to the left, then four ¡®Q¡¯s labeled one to four, and finally an ¡®I¡¯ and an ¡®H¡¯. Currently, the dial pointed to ¡®Q2¡¯. Ambrose grabbed onto the handle with one hand and twisted the dial with his thumb. It took a surprising amount of force to move, as if it actively resisted the motion. He managed to push it to the ¡®I¡¯ setting before taking a deep breath and stepping out over the dark abyss.

    The instant his weight settled on the line, the handle jerked upward, accelerating until the walls whirred by. Ambrose hung onto the handle with every last ounce of strength he could muster, but he still felt as though he would fall off as the pulleys slowed to a stop. He pushed off the back wall of the shaft and jumped onto the stone floor of the level. His heart had probably beat faster last night, but this had to be a close second.

    The invention floor already seemed fancier. The walls were covered with compartments and ornate brass swirls and detailing. Ambrose turned the corner to where most of the warm light was coming from.

    The actual floor took him breath away. Every single place where a desk or workspace could be fit had something filling it, equipment sitting there and people milling about. A large ticking clock hung from a stone ledge, atop which an office¡¯s windows overlooked the floor. High above, easily two stories, the observation deck from the Honor Cavern level overlooked the scene. The clock read eight thirteen, but the floor seemed as busy as it had been when he¡¯d seen it from overhead the night before.

    Ambrose only made it a few steps into the room before dodging out of the way of a burly Engineer carrying a bin of components. Looking around, he cautiously made his way forward until he reached the clock under the office. A partial-spiral staircase led from the floor up to the door of the office on the ledge. Even from where he was standing, Ambrose could read the plaque on the door: Head Engineer. The office didn¡¯t have any light coming from the windows. Perhaps the Head Engineer simply hadn¡¯t gotten up yet? Hopefully he¡¯d get to meet her later today. Perhaps they¡¯d give him an official orientation of some sort?

    He sat down on the first few steps, looking out on the chaos of the invention floor. Sooner or later, someone would come looking for him. For now, he¡¯d have to see what he could learn from simply watching and trying to make sense of everything.

    The band in the reception hall had exceedingly peculiar instruments. The tall man with the green plaid cap blew into a flute that twisted around and widened at the end, tapping lightly on the keys as he played. The two seated on empty barrels, one a man with white hair and the other a woman with a red braid wrapped around on top of her head, played stringed instruments. The man had some sort of lute, although his had a more boxy shape and a set of tiny strings on the side of the fretboard. The woman had what Hyeon guessed to be a fiddle, the only recognizable instrument. But, given the oddity of the others, he couldn¡¯t be sure. The young woman sitting cross-legged on the floor held her instrument across her front, a sewn bag connected to a mouthpiece and a set of carved pipes. He¡¯d only seen such an instrument once before, although he¡¯d never been able to figure out its name. But the soldier who¡¯d played them had been standing at attention, face red, huffing away. This girl was sitting contentedly as if play were the easiest thing in the world. The last member of the band, a boy standing next to the man with the plaid cap, banged away on a drum. Every single member of the group looked like they were having a merry time. Even those with wind instruments who shouldn¡¯t have been able to smile found a way to do so.

    The group finished another set, pausing briefly to allow the crowd to clap before setting the tempo and jumping into another song. Hyeon had been surprised when the motley group appeared in the corner of the hall, considering their less-than-fancy outfits, seating arrangements, and odd accents, but their music had impressed him. It had an informal feel to it, like it could be used in a commoner¡¯s mead-hall or tavern, but it also seemed to fit here. Even the scholars¡¯ string quintet, in their embroidered jackets and tied robes, seemed interested.

    From his vantage point near the edge of the room, Hyeon gazed over his subjects. His subjects. One way or another, they called him Emperor now. And it looked good that one of the first things he did with his power was throw a celebration for his subjects. All his subjects, not just the rich ones. Even if they were in different locations. But he could explain that away with building capacities and event planning. Everyone deserved a say and a fair leader, but the aristocracy were the only ones who knew how to throw a party.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    ¡°What are you thinking about?¡± Nari placed her hand on his arm.

    ¡°So many things. Most of them completely useless. But for once, I think that¡¯s okay.¡±

    ¡°You are Emperor now. You think what you want, when you want.¡±

    ¡°But I want to be a good Emperor. Which means I do have some things I must address.¡±

    Nari grinned at him, a little mischief creeping into her expression. She was especially beautiful when she let a little bit of personality slip through her serene mask. ¡°But not tonight. Tonight is a time for unconditional celebration.¡± She stood up and pulled her cropped jacket more securely around her, pinning it in place again before offering her hand to Hyeon. ¡°Which means it¡¯s about time that we take our first dance.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure? In front of this many people?¡± He let her pull him to his feet.

    ¡°Yep. Was this not one of the things you studied?¡±

    ¡°It was, but it¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve practiced¡­¡± His breath caught as she pulled him forward towards the floor. Her laugh floated through the hot air, mingling with the notes from the instruments. The musicians took notice and morphed their tune from a lively jig into a five-step rimpanade without missing so much as a beat. Hyeon took Nari¡¯s right hand in his left and stepped first, right foot over left.

    ¡°See? You even still remember how to start.¡± Nari¡¯s dress fluttered as she turned.

    ¡°That¡¯s about all I remember.¡± Hyeon stepped again, wobbling a little until Nari pulled him in and swung him around. ¡°Well, that works too.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not one for much formal dance, are you?¡± Nari winked at him and started tapping a faster tempo with her foot. The woman playing fiddle started sawing away while the rest of the group looked at her and matched. The man on the twisted flute started playing a countermelody above the fiddle, notes popping out over the rest of the music.

    Nari spun around with her wrists crossed above her head, a vibrant smile splayed across her face. ¡°Now maybe you¡¯ll have a little fun.¡± To her credit, Hyeon did feel a bit more like dancing when his heart pounded in time with the beat.

    ¡°Very well. If the Empress so commands, that I must do.¡±

    Nari drew him in close, spinning in a circle with opposite forearms pressed together. ¡°Not tonight you don¡¯t. Tonight you have fun, even if I have to make you.¡±

    Hyeon had to admit, he did have the tiniest little bit of fun. After stress and obligation, music and dance had a calming effect. And later on, when the music had slowed and the commoners had left, he and Nari could retire to their rooms for a long-stemmed glass of something sparkling and distilled¡­

    Off to the side of the hall, a lantern darkened, the flame somehow snuffed out behind the glass. The two lanterns on the sides of that one quickly followed. Nari¡¯s step faltered as the band¡¯s tune broke apart. ¡°Hyeon¡­¡± The hall plunged into darkness, all of the lanterns extinguished without a single pane of glass broken. Hyeon tensed, the pressure from before returning. He felt as Nari pressed her back against his and laced their hands together.

    ¡°Relight the lanterns!¡± Nothing but silence. ¡°Hyeon felt a small twinge of annoyance. He pulled it up and used it as fuel to keep his voice loud and straight. ¡°As Emperor of the Sixth Spire, I command you to reveal yourself!¡± Not bad, although his wording needed a little work.

    The lights around the room flickered back to life for an instant before burning bright green. The shadows seemed longer and sharper now, clawing at the floor of the chamber. From high above, a smooth voice echoed in return. ¡° You call yourself Emperor, yet the Spire you claim is but a construct of your imagination. You throw lavish parties, yet many suffer in the mines. That crown is a fabrication, a trick.¡±

    Hyeon froze, although the spark of annoyance kindled a fire inside him. Disrespect to the empire and the Sixth Spire, but more disrespect to him in particular. Whoever dared speak those traitorous, they had a storm coming.

    The sound of shattering glass came from the left, back towards where he¡¯d been sitting earlier. People began to scream as smoke billowed from the shards of glass. Nari¡¯s grip on his hands tightened. ¡°Do something.¡± Her whisper was the most strained he¡¯d ever heard it.

    ¡°What? You¡¯re the social person. What should I do?¡±

    ¡°Say something. Say something loud. Give the people something to fixate on.¡±

    Hyeon cleared his throat. ¡°Show yourself, traitor! I will have no secrets in my presence.¡±

    The voice laughed. ¡°Traitor? You think I¡¯m one of you? That I¡¯d ever want to be one of you? You disgust me.¡±

    ¡°Okay, it¡¯s something.¡± Nari looked up at the high ceiling. ¡°Where is that voice coming from?¡±

    The pillars around the outside of the room flickered as figures detached from them and started inward towards the couple. Around the room royal guards shook off their shock and rushed to meet the intruders, halberds in hand. They formed a ring around Hyeon and Nari, spikes bristling outward.

    Hyeon felt in his pocket for the dagger he kept there, hoping against his usual bad luck that he¡¯d remembered to bring it with him to the ceremony. His hands turned up empty.

    A lone attacker breached the defensive circle and rushed toward Nari, plunging a long knife at her in an overhand grip. Hyeon started to spin around to put himself in the way, but Nari planted her foot and let the knife glance off her raised arm before hitting her in the stomach. She let go of Hyeon¡¯s hand with a gasp and fell to the ground, blood pooling around the hilt of the blade. The attacker looked up just as Hyeon lashed out with a solid kick. The figure flew back through the broken defensive circle, several cracks sounding as it hit the nearest pillar. Undaunted, it pulled a set of flasks from its belt and lobbed them at Hyeon and a short-breathed Nari. The glass broke and spilled amber liquid from it, splashing on Hyeon¡¯s boots and slacks. The other figures pulled back and tossed flasks of their own.

    Hyeon shielded his eyes as shards of glass and droplets of fluid raked through his hair and across his skin. Wherever the liquid met drops of blood drawn by the glass, large amber crystals sprang up, growing quickly and encircling him. The crystals didn¡¯t seem to be heavy, but he couldn''t break them apart once they¡¯d finished growing. He glanced down at Nari, staring up at the ceiling with an expression of pain mixed with defiance. The crystals seemed to sprout from her abdomen, reaching upward and outward like a slow-moving explosion. Surely they should have crushed her by now just from their sheer size. They drew power from her blood, reaching farther and farther until they coated her shoulders and knees. Her one free hand was stretched out towards him, begging him to take it. He dropped to one knee as the crystals started to weigh on him, his arms frozen in place. The crystals swept up across Nari¡¯s face, cementing the tortured look in place. Hyeon took a deep breath as the amber facets climbed over his own face, trying his best to make as determined an expression as he could manage. He left his mouth slightly open as the crystal crawled over his lips, bridging the gap. A tiny flow of air trickled through the amber solid, but his lung had already started to burn. At this rate, he¡¯d lose consciousness soon. Already his vision was fading, although his eyes were frozen open. Color faded from the crystal, black closing in around the edges. Hyeon struggled for one more gasping breath before falling into oblivion. And then all was still.

    As the guests from the party slowly climbed to their feet, the lanterns flickered again and reverted to their customary orange glow. The smoke cleared as wind poured into the room. One of the servants had been smart enough to open the double doors on one end of the hall. They froze in shock again as the center of the hall became fully visible.

    The Empress lay frozen in the center of the room, crystal-encased hand reaching out as if to escape something. The Emperor knelt at her side, tied to her by the same crystal coating. They looked like crude statues from a south town square, barely recognizable as human. Their shadowed assailants were nowhere to be found, broken flasks and shards of glass the only other indication they¡¯d ever been there.

 Chapter VI

    The rain had died down and the dragonflies in her stomach had fallen asleep by the time Akio thought she heard footsteps again. She didn¡¯t even spare the energy to look up. Even if she wanted to, she couldn¡¯t go anywhere. Her mind swirled with thoughts like dragonflies skimming over a small pond. Some part of her told her to be afraid, that the footsteps belonged to an associate of her father¡¯s, but that feeling quickly suffocated under the veil of depression. Why even feel anymore? Feelings would just lead to more pain.

    The cell started to blend together, the walls with the floor and the moonlight with the darkness. All one mass of grey. Even the figure standing outside the cell, darker than the stone, blurred into the mix. She barely felt as her head drooped forward and hit the stone floor, the nightmares finally taking her. They couldn¡¯t be worse than reality.

    The master of the dungeon inserted a thick key into the lock and twisted, the tumblers scratching in an all-too-familiar way. It had been long mooncycles since this cell had been used. And likely it would be another long stretch of time after this night.

    The figure hunched over in the corner looked to be a young woman, small and underfed. Such a shame she had ended up here. She could have lived a nice life, gone places, if only someone had taken her under their wing and taught her. A real shame. The only inkling of emotion that showed on the stocky woman¡¯s face was pity as she pulled the cell down open with a stocky arm. She had her job to do, regardless of what she thought about it. Many of the things in this dungeon were quite illegal. But the duke had the money, so there they stayed.

    Off came the manacle, left open on the floor. No point in closing it until she needed it again. The girl¡¯s limp form she carried to the far corner of the room, around the pillars and away from the staircase. On the backside of one of the pillars, a peg had been pounded into the stone itself. A crude mace hung from it, the spiked ball on the end ground and polished to a shine. The wooden handle bore the inscription ¡®Hulga¡¯, traced in flowing letters. A gift from someone she¡¯d used to know, someone who¡¯d used to matter.

    Maybe she should just use the mace and get it over with. It would be painful, but the girl¡¯s mind would flee after only a few minutes. And Hulga would finally get to swing the mace at a target again. But no. The duke would want more. And he paid her, however dirty the money.

    Hulga belted the girl to a table, wrists and ankles barely able to move. She pulled a flat-headed hammer from under the table and swung it through the air as if to test it. She¡¯d perfected her hit long ago, hard enough to bruise and sometimes chip, but not hard enough to fracture. Then when the bruise was cut the blood would leak out in such amounts that the victim would scare themselves into shock. If they happened to be awake. The pain would bring her to.

    But that wouldn¡¯t be enough this time. No, this one had to be special. Hulga clipped the hammer to her wide belt and grabbed a bellows from atop a stack of other tools. The furnace kept its flame going in a different part of the dungeon, where it could effectively heat a tub of water. But it fed some of its heat over to the very corner of the room, where a bed of whiterock lay ready to be heated and burned. Hulga tossed the hammer on the whiterock and cranked open a shaft. Sure enough, the heat from the furnace flowed in, readying the whiterock. Now she just needed a spark. She took an old, chipped sword from a barrel and scraped it against the stone of the wall. The whiterock was showered with sparks, far more than necessary. The rocks flamed up before beginning their journey to red-hot. The hammer on top slowly followed suit.

    The war drums began to play in Hulga¡¯s head as the hammer grew hot, the thrill of the kill growing within her once again. She would crush her enemies¡¯ skulls, burn them with hot forged metal, spear them through with all manner of sharp objects. They would know of her wrath. And if a few had to die along the way to allow her to stay up on her crushing skills, well, it was worth the sacrifice.

    The hammer finally heated to the right shade of red. But it would be better if the metal were coated with blood when it swung, as all great weapons of destruction were. Hulga sliced a red line across the girl¡¯s arm and pressed the side of the hammer to the flesh. The hissing sound reminded her of a snake as she skewered it. And the smell of burning blood¡­ she could rarely find it, but perhaps that made it all the better. It would not be as exquisite if that were common. Hulga raised the hammer, burning blood and all, relishing in the weight. Now her work could begin.

    A stabbing pain shot through her left arm, reaching from her shoulder all the way up to the red-hot hammer. She grunted and dropped the tool, dodging out of the way as it fell. Fire burned behind her eyes as she rounded on the sorry soul who¡¯d dared to steal her moment of joy.

    A servant boy stood tall, a stolen rapier in his hand. He held the blade horizontal, blood slowly dripping from the end. The silver crescent in his short braid glittered in the firelight. ¡°Step away from the girl.¡±

    Hulga roared, the bellow sounding off of each pillar and all the way up the staircase. With her right hand she grabbed a bent poker leaning on the table and brought it up to block her attacker¡¯s next jab. But the boy had already disappeared, circling around for a better shot. He feinted high and thrusted low, driving the point of the sword into Hulga¡¯s thigh. The massive woman yelled a pained battle cry as she brought the poker down on the boy. At last the pest would be gone, and she could get back to her work¡­

    He¡¯d disappeared again. The poker swung through empty space and hit the floor with a clang. Hulga spun around again to see her heated hammer flying through the air directly at her head. It impacted on her forehead, the hot metal momentarily snapping her into focus before the weight of the tool threw her backward and stole her consciousness. Her bloodied form crumpled at the bottom of a pillar, hammer falling beside her. The shield-crest pattern from the top of the hammer stayed stamped on her forehead. The boy inspected her body before turning back to the girl on the table.

    The heat on Akio¡¯s arm set fire to the haze around her mind. Now darkness had been joined by fire and smoke and destruction. She tried to fight the haze, drive it back, but for some reason she couldn¡¯t move. She just watched as the flames licked at her, blackening her skin.

    Something clanged near her, like heavy metal on stone. But what stone? The ground beneath her was just ash and charred wood¡­

    Akio¡¯s eyes flew open, the pain in her right arm bringing everything into acute focus. The ceiling above had cracks running through it, water dripping down one of the walls. Piles and barrels of tools and weapons lay strewn about, except for in the corner where a bed of whiterock flamed up intermittently. Akio gritted her teeth and tried to move, but something kept her laying down. Leather pressed against her limbs and waist, cutting into her through her dress. She shut her eyes again, straining against the bonds and the pain of the puffy red spot on her arm.

    The pressure from the leather abruptly vanished, heat and pain changing to cold and relief. Akio flexed her fingers, then her arm. She opened her eyes to see Sora, a rapier in his hand. He took her hand and pulled her up. ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    The dragonflies hand moved from her stomach to her mind, each one flying a different direction. She swatted at them, trying to think. ¡°Maybe?¡±

    ¡°Good enough.¡± Sora wrapped an arm around her and pulled her off the table and onto her feet. ¡°We need to leave now. Out of here, out of the manor, away from the Spire if possible.¡±

    Akio wrapped her arms around him and let a few tears leak out. ¡°Thank you for finding me.¡±

    ¡°What else was I to do?¡± Sora briefly returned the embrace before pulling away. ¡°There will be time for that later. For now, we need to run.¡±

    ¡°But what about my things? The duke will burn them all when he finds me gone!¡±

    Sora shook his head. ¡°We don¡¯t have time, and they¡¯d only slow us down. We can replace them eventually, once we get far away.¡±

    Akio pulled at her braid, trying to find comfort there. ¡°Wait! I have to find my moonbeam! He¡¯ll burn that too!¡±

    Sora paused, turning to look more fully at her completely black braid, an expression of hatred across his features. ¡°He won¡¯t. We¡¯ll go get it.¡± Sora pointed up the stairs at the far end of the dungeon. ¡°I think I know where he put it. Follow me.¡±

    Akio ran after Sora, worn slippers sliding on the stone floor. Through the pillars, up the stairs, through the iron door, out into the manor¡¯s finished hallways. The arched front doors were maybe three rooms away, off to the left. But Sora turned right, through another room before racing up more stairs.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Two stories above the ground floor, the duke¡¯s personal chambers stood like a haughty taunt to any would-be thieves. The door had iron reinforcements, with two crossbowmen standing at attention at all times. The lock on the door had a gold sheen, telling of the valuables locked inside. Sora pointed to it around the corner in the hallway. ¡°Don¡¯t follow until it¡¯s safe to do so.¡± He ducked around the corner and ran towards the guards, keeping his head low. A dagger appeared in his hand, spinning and slashing through the bowstrings of the guards¡¯ weapons. He raised his weapon high and brought the hilt down on each of the guards in turn, aiming for slightly below the helmet. They fell to the ground almost in unison. With his other hand, Sora procured a golden key and twisted it in the lock. With the door open, he disappeared into the room.

    Akio followed him in, stepping over the bodies of the two guards. Sora already knelt in front of a silver strongbox bolted to the bedside table. The thick door was open, several trays ready to be accessed. He pulled out each open and threw them on the bed. Stacks of coinage, important documents, and a few pieces of jewelry. And right in the center of the middle tray, a strand of blue ribbon with a moon-shaped silver pendant attached to the end. Akio gingerly picked it up and wove it back into her hair. Sora used the time to dump the contents of all the trays into the bag over his shoulder.

    ¡°Sora, you shouldn¡¯t be taking all of that. Yukima doesn¡¯t smile on thievery.¡±

    He looked over at her, a quizzical expression on his face. ¡°If we¡¯re really going to run, we¡¯ll need money. And the duke owes you a lot more than is in here. Not to mention that it¡¯s not really his money. In a few mooncycles, it should legally become yours. It¡¯s your mother¡¯s money, not his.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Just take it.¡± We¡¯ll sort out ethics later.

    Sora replaced the trays and relocked the strongbox before pocketing the key. ¡°He¡¯ll know something¡¯s not right, but the longer we have until he figures out he doesn¡¯t have a full strongbox, the better.¡± He took Akio¡¯s hand and pulled her out of the room, shutting the door behind them. The guards would just have to stay there.

    The stairs blurred on the way down, each step one closer to the freedom of the outside world. Like the people in the books, gallivanting and adventuring as they pleased. There had to be something beyond the fields of Tallspire. Other Spires, definitely. What did they look like? She wanted to see it all.

    Light already streamed from the doorway before Akio had even turned the last corner. Maybe an unexpected arrival? She didn¡¯t remember her father talking about any new visitors.

    Sora rounded the last corner to the main entryway and slowed to a stop well before the door. Akio almost tripped and fell on her face when she saw why.

    In front of the open doorway stood a division of soldiers, the crossbowmen aiming through gaps in the ranks of sabre-wielding guards. At the head of the division stood the duke, silver-plated sabre raised. His eyes drilled into her like crossbow bolts of hatred and derision.

    Sora raised his hand. ¡°Stay back. I will deal with this lowlife noble.¡± He stepped forward.

    The duke¡¯s eyes didn¡¯t leave Akio. ¡°You are the scum of the deepest pit in the Nine Islands. I have had mercy on your disgusting soul all these many years, and you repay me with desertion and utter contempt. The dungeon is too good for you. I¡¯ll personally oversee your transport to the mines, where you¡¯ll live out the rest of your short, miserable life in slavery.¡± He turned to Sora. ¡°And you, traitor. I will have you beaten and tied behind the next vessel to leave Tallspire. You will be a lesson in obedience to all who serve me.¡±

    Sora remained silent. The duke spat at him, although the spittle failed to hit. ¡°Fight for your life, if you even can.¡± He sprang forward, running at Sora with his sabre slashing through the air.

    Sora bowed slowly. ¡°Gladly.¡± He pulled the bloodied rapier from his belt and pointed it at the duke, looking at him sideways. ¡°But I¡¯m not fighting for my life.¡± The duke tried to swat the weapon away and get a clear shot, but Sora sidestepped and watched the blade slice through the air where he¡¯d been standing a few moments before. His words floated back to Akio.

    ¡°I¡¯m fighting for hers.¡±

    The duke continued swinging and Sora continued dodging, neither landing any hits. Beads of sweat started to slip down both of their faces. Sora raised his rapier in an attempt to jab at the duke, but the blade got caught on another attack from the sabre and spun away out of his grasp. He stumbled, falling backward and hitting the ground hard. The duke cried in triumph and swung his sabre down at Sora¡¯s head. Akio squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears, even though she knew it wouldn¡¯t help.

    The blow never hit. No cheers, no scraping of blades. Utter silence. Akio cracked one eyelid, then the other.

    Sora had his eyes closed as well, palms together a few centimeters from his head, the silver sabre¡¯s caught in between his hands. He slowly opened his eyes and glared at the duke before standing and lashing out with his right heel. Sore lost his grip on the sabre as the duke flew backwards and skidded to a stop on the marble floor, just before the division of soldiers. The noble slowly stood, his sabre visibly shaking.

    ¡°How¡­ where did you learn that?¡±

    ¡°I have no obligation to share that with you.¡± Sora retrieved the bent rapier from its resting place on the marble and returned to his defensive stance. ¡° Akio crept closer behind him, noting the look in the duke¡¯s eyes. There wouldn¡¯t be another round.

    The duke sheathed his silver sabre and motioned for the soldiers to lower their crossbows. ¡°Go. Leave this place. You are released from your contract.¡± Sora stood up straight and tossed the rapier aside.

    ¡°It¡¯s time to find out where you belong.¡± Sora offered Akio his hand before passing through the ranks of soldiers and out the open doorway. The outside smelled of rain and promise and freedom. For once in a very long time, Akio breathed a sigh of relief.

    ¡°Ready! Aim!¡± Sora took off, towing her behind him. The grain fields were distant, but that looked to be the only cover if they wanted to make it off the estate alive. Double-crossing, conniving, honorless¡­ She forced herself not to finish the sentence and focus on running.

    ¡°Fire!¡± Sora pulled her to the ground, swinging her in front of him and landing on his hands and knees above her. The crossbow bolts flew overhead, some of them with startling accuracy. As soon as the bolts passed, Sora was on his feet again, pulling her up. She risked a glance back at the manor, where her stepfather pointed straight at her. ¡°Ready! Aim!¡±

    ¡°Run!¡± Sora pounded a path down the hill towards the fields of grain. Through the trees, through the wrought iron gates, between the crossbow bolts that buzzed around them. The grain seemed to grow taller as they drew near. Sora rushed into the stalks without looking back, Akio following after a moment¡¯s delay. They ran and ran and didn¡¯t stop until the roof of the manor disappeared in the grain and Akio felt as though the fields went on forever. She fell to her knees and ignored the damp grain around her. Every part of her felt cold from the rainwater.

    ¡°Rest for a second. Then we need to keep going. They know we¡¯re in here. They won¡¯t stop searching until they find us.¡±

    Akio climbed to her feet and wrapped Sora in the biggest hug she could muster, kissing him on the cheek. ¡°Thank you. Over the moon and to the stars.¡± Her mind seemed fuzzy around the edges, but her heart still knew exactly what to say. Although her cheeks seemed to have found a new kind of heat, and the dragonflies in her stomach had woken up.

    Sora returned the embrace. ¡°You¡¯re worth rescuing.¡± For a moment freedom was everything she had dreamt it would be. And that moment stretched longer than she¡¯d thought possible, the rustle of grain the only sound for as far as she could hear.

    Sora abruptly released her and pushed her back. The dragonflies quieted and her stomach dropped. ¡°What? What did I do? Was that too much? I¡¯m so sorry!¡±

    ¡°Shhh. Listen.¡± Akio closed her mouth and opened her ears, straining for anything out of the ordinary. ¡°And do you smell them?¡±

    Something was burning. Not the pleasant smell when someone blew out a candle, but the raw, primal smell of something large burning. Thick black smoke started to billow over the grain. Tall flames followed a moment later as more and more of the grain caught fire. Everywhere she turned, smoke and destruction. A ring of flames.

    ¡°Yukima¡¯s Crown!¡± Sora grabbed her hand and started off in the direction they¡¯d been running before, undaunted by the fire.

    ¡°What are you doing? You¡¯re running right towards it!¡±

    Sora spared her a glance. ¡°Any way is towards it. The sooner we get there the less fire we¡¯ll have to jump through. It¡¯ll probably be narrow enough that we can make it.¡±

    Akio kept running, legs pumping under her and propelling her towards the smoke. A wall of heat washed over her as the flames became visible in between the wilting stalks of grain. Already the stalks on the edge were charred a deep black. The flames waved at her, begging her to join them. She stumbled to a stop a few meters before the fire.

    ¡°Come on! You¡¯re almost there!¡± Sora tried to pull her forward, but her feet refused to move.

    ¡°I can¡¯t. I¡¯ll die if I go in there.¡± She reached up and stroked her braid, fingers tracing the blue ribbon.

    Sora rubbed the crescent pendant hanging from his moonbeam. ¡°Then say a prayer. You¡¯ll make it. I¡¯ll be right here the whole time.¡± Akio blinked the smoke away and squeezed his hand. No doubt. No fear. She jumped into the flames.

    Her slippers caught fire immediately, despite all the water they¡¯d soaked up from the wet ground. Her dress seemed more resistant, but small patches began to smolder, along with the edges of her hair. But the flames on her skin felt the worst, like the hot hammer or someone raking a fireplace poker across her back. She screamed in defiance of the flames and took a few steps forward. Her free hand reached out towards the edge of the fire, blue sky and foliage only visible in the brief gaps in the smoke. Everything started to go numb, her feet tingling and losing their touch. The pain flared and then went dormant. The flames blurred together as she fell, sending up a shower of sparks when she hit the ground.

    Her hands and feet felt like they didn¡¯t exist. Her back was losing its layer of skin to the flaming, charred grain. Her neck was hot from the heat her burning hair trapped in and from the flames that started to break through.

    Sora appeared over her, eyes burning brighter than the flames. He reached down with burning hands and hoisted her up as if she weighed nothing at all. His hair was smoking and his uniform was unrecognizable, covered in ash.

    Akio lay on the ground again, although this time the black sky had pinpricks of white twinkling down. The stars! And the moon! It had started to set right in front of her, over the stream. The white light glistened on the slow-moving water.

    She had to get to that water. It would cool her, soothe the burns. But her body had stopped listening to her. She reached toward the moon and tried to whisper a prayer before the color faded away and she fell into darkness.

 Chapter VII

    The invention floor had only gotten more busy as the clock progressed, although the Head Engineer¡¯s office remained as dark as ever. Ambrose sat on the steps, trying to make any sense of the chaos. Everyone seemed to have a different project to work on. And who was supervising them all?

    ¡°Ambrose? He jumped, looking around.

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°Over here. Behind you.¡± He turned around to see a stack of books. After a bit of shifting, the stack rotated to reveal a woman in her early twenties. Her frizzy black hair had been hastily tied back, although Ambrose thought he saw a few pieces of metal caught in the fray. A braid on the right side tried to balance the chaos out with a little order. She smiled at him, although even in the shadow of the staircase he could see the dark spots under her eyes.

    ¡°Right this way. I¡¯ll explain everything when this is all settled.¡± She took a wobbling step before adding a small bin of parts to the top of her stack and leading the way to a small room off the main floor. After setting the teetering pile down on a large desk to the right, she spun a gear on the wall until it clicked. Light glowed down from the ceiling, each panel lighting up in some way that Ambrose couldn¡¯t piece together. The room¡¯s walls were covered in scratches and burn marks, presumably from other students¡¯ projects. Ambrose pulled out one of the chairs and sat down while she rearranged some of the papers and boxes in her stack. After the whole thing threatened to collapse twice and actually did collapse once, she gave up and lowered herself into the other chair.

    ¡°Alright, sorry about that. Here in the caverns we¡¯re a lot of things, but organized is not often one of them. My name is Charity, by the way.¡±

    She raised her hand, arm straight out and palm facing him. He blinked. ¡°Am I supposed to do something?¡±

    ¡°Oh, right. Charity, you¡¯re dull.¡± She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. ¡°Okay, sorry. Raise your hand like mine.¡± He copied the gesture, and she pressed her palm to his. A tingle raced down his arm, like an overflowing tide pool, hinting at more power inside. He drew his hand away.

    ¡°What was that?¡±

    Charity smiled. ¡°Well, it¡¯s a common greeting for Engineers, although it¡¯s a little more informal. But it¡¯s also a great start for our first lesson.¡± She raised a finger. ¡°But first, I want to know your name. It¡¯s only fair.¡±

    ¡°Ambrose. What¡¯s the first lesson?¡±

    ¡°Someone¡¯s ready to learn. I like that.¡± She held out her hand again, this time with the palm up. ¡°Touch my hand again and leave your hand there. It¡¯ll be easier this way.¡± The surge of energy returned, although he had no clue where it was coming from. ¡°Do you feel that?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. What is it?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re feeling the energy flow from my core.¡± Ambrose gave her a quizzical look. ¡°Take two fingers and tap on your heart. What do you feel?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s beating. Just like always.¡±

    ¡°Okay. Now move your fingers down and a little over, right in between your ribs.¡± He followed her instructions, although there didn¡¯t seem to be anything there. He focused hard, trying to find even a clue of something out of the ordinary. ¡°Anything?¡±

    ¡°Nothing.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s okay. I didn¡¯t expect you to feel anything. At least, not yet. Now that you know where to look, take my hand again and trace my energy channels back to it with your mind.¡±

    Ambrose closed his eyes and thought of little trails of light glowing around bone and muscle. They all went to one place. Not the heart, but close to it. A little lower, more central. There! A pool of energy, waves rippling on the surface. No, not a pol. A ball of energy, and the ripples were all along the surface.

    ¡°I think I see it.¡±

    Charity sounded surprised. ¡°What do you see?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a ball of energy. The surface looks like water, and all the channels connect to it.¡±

    Charity let go of his hand and sat back. He opened his eyes. ¡°Did I say something wrong?¡±

    She tapped on her chest, right above her core. ¡°No, not really. I¡¯ve just never gotten a description like that. Okay, now try again and see if you can find your own core.¡±

    Ambrose pressed his palm to his stomach and slid it upwards. He doubled back when it came level with his heart, back and forth until he settled on one spot that seemed lighter than the rest. If Charity¡¯s core had been a rippling ball, then his seemed like a gaseous cloud of energy. And a small cloud at that.

    ¡°There¡¯s not really a core there. It¡¯s just a puddle or a cloud.¡±

    ¡°Good. When we¡¯re done here, maybe in a week or two, there will be.¡± Charity looked over at the scattered papers, picking one up and reading off of it. ¡°Okay, that¡¯s most of what I had in my notes. Just a few more things.¡± She threw paper back on top of the collapsed pile. ¡°So if everyone has a ¡®cloud¡¯ like you, then why isn¡¯t everyone an Engineer?¡±

    ¡°Can some people just not feel it?¡±

    Charity blinked. ¡°Partially. But sometimes it¡¯s just not big enough to feel. That or they just don¡¯t have the mind-power to condense it.¡±

    ¡°Condense it?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll show you.¡± Charity reached into her pocket and pulled out a small cylindrical object, the top and bottom plated with a copper-colored metal. The sides of the cylinder were clear, revealing a system of gears and springs and various other components Ambrose couldn¡¯t name, all working away despite having no obvious power source. ¡°Have you ever seen one of these before?¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Ambrose shook his head. ¡°Never. I¡¯d remember if I had.¡±

    ¡°Good. I¡¯d be worried if you had. This is a vitality indicator, vital for short. Once you start one spinning, it doesn¡¯t stop until you do. They¡¯re difficult to make and hard to activate, so each one is worth a lot. Each Engineer has a working one in the Central Pillar. At some point soon I¡¯ll take you down there.¡±

    ¡°Can I hold it?¡±

    Charity hesitated before handing it to him. ¡°Just be careful. I refilled this one not too long ago, and I was out for a day after that. It takes a lot out of you.¡± Ambrose hefted the vital. It was a lot heavier than he¡¯d expected. And there was a clicking noise, faint enough that he almost missed it. Kind of like a heartbeat, honestly. He handed it back before she got too nervous.

    ¡°So this is what makes someone an Engineer?¡±

    ¡°Pretty much. There¡¯s a ceremony of sorts, and there¡¯s also a Code we try to live by. But for all practical purposes, yes. Anyone who lights one of these is valuable enough that we keep them down here and train them further.¡±

    ¡°When will I have a chance to light one?¡±

    Charity tapped her chin. ¡°You know what, I¡¯ll just take you down to the Central Pillar now. You can try your hand at lighting one there. If it doesn¡¯t work today--and don¡¯t get discouraged if it doesn¡¯t, because it probably won¡¯t first try--you¡¯ll get a chance every two or so days until you make it. If it still hasn¡¯t worked out within a mooncycle, chances are it isn¡¯t meant to be. But those who don¡¯t make it can still train to be messengers and foundry assistants. The caverns are big enough.¡±

    The Lost Souls huddled behind a set of overgrown blue-grey bushes, looking out at the town. Each building had the same kind of wood, bleached a dirty white from the sun with beams slowly splintering left and right. The sun had just set behind the mountains, casting the town in shadow and cuing the many lanterns to be lit. All the shops on the main street were in the process of closing for the night, shopkeepers busy switching their products and tidying up. A few people still roamed the streets, looking up at the mountains. A lone Sentry stood near an intersection, eyes slowly sweeping over everything in his field of vision.

    ¡°Alright, Mantra, you go right and skirt around the outside of town. And, for the love of everything you hold dear, be quiet about it. Trust, that box I tagged should still be in the alleyway. If you go quickly, you might be able to get in and get out before anyone notices. Levity, I don¡¯t care what you do, just don¡¯t get caught. Cheer, figure it out. Your best shot is to find the mining depot across town and then take the long way back.¡±

    ¡°Got it.¡± Cheer stepped away and dashed right up to the edge of the street. The best way to get across, short of going with Mantra, would be to act like she belonged. Chances are the Sentry wouldn¡¯t even look twice. She strode along, pulling a palefruit from her bag and biting into it. Just a random citizen on their way home after a day at the harvest. Nothing suspicious whatsoever.

    And just like that, the Sentries didn¡¯t pay her any attention. Street after street, they let her pass by as though she really were just a regular commoner. She almost wanted to cause a scene just to have a little fun. But Creed would berate her for it for far too long afterwards to make it worth any joy she got in the moment. The last street with the shop she¡¯d been told to hit looked exactly as boring as the rest. She walked up to the door of the stonemason¡¯s shop and kicked it open, not bothering to check if it was unlocked. A girl had to have a little fun.

    The shopkeeper stood in front of a display of tools, straightening the chisels so their edges all aligned. He whirled around as Cheer stepped into the shop, a chisel clutched in his hand. She opened the flap on her bag and began to stuff tools into it. Each one weighed a significant amount, so she¡¯d have to be careful that she didn¡¯t get duplicates. A set of chisels, definitely. And a new mallet. Creed would like one of those. Maybe another guide-spike. Ooh, and another awl. Mantra had probably blunted the last one beyond repair.

    Cheer had no clue how Creed had let her have the obvious best job. It felt like shopping without having to pay for it. Or, well, at least in money. She paid for it in energy as she made a getaway. And when she had to fight the store-owners. As she would probably have to in a second.

    The stonemason brought the handle of his chisel screaming down at Cheer, a determined expression on his face. She nimbly dodged out of the way and raised her eyebrows. ¡°Is that really the best you can do?¡±

    ¡°Get out of my shop, thief!¡± He slashed at her with the edge of the chisel, prompting another taunting dance just out of reach.

    ¡°I¡¯ll get out when I have what I came for.¡± The next time he swung the chisel, she caught it and wrenched it out of his grasp, dropping it in her bag and closing the flap. Back out the door, into the street, a raging stonemason following. Surely the Sentries had heard by now. Or maybe they were all rushing to where Mantra had made a scene, as he surely had.

    As if on cue, a Sentry ran around the corner, wrist launcher at the ready. ¡°Stop in the name of the Engineers!¡±

    Cheer smiled and hollered back. ¡°There are few things I would stop for. That is not one of them.¡± She took off down the street, farther and farther away from the hideout. The tools weighed so much more than she¡¯d expected. Maybe she¡¯d go a little faster this time instead of toying with the Sentries.

    The man in the uniform raced along behind her, leveling the wrist launcher at her and pulling back a dart. They knew her face well enough that they wouldn¡¯t be telling her to stop a second time. She lifted her bag as she heard the twang of the launcher¡¯s string, a dart embedding itself in the fabric. And now it has another hole to join all the other shots they¡¯ve taken at me.

    She dodged left down another street, grey-white wood flashing around her. Everything blurred together when you weren¡¯t looking for something specific. Even the fraying faded-color fabric awnings that some of the better stores had mixed together.

    Even with the tools, Cheer knew she could run faster than the Sentry. He just ran because his captain said he had to. Maybe he even believed he could do some good in the world. But she ran so she wouldn¡¯t get caught. A very big distinction, one any self-respecting thief knew very well. The blue-grey thinleaf trees appeared through the gaps in the buildings to the right, the start of the wilderness. But she couldn¡¯t break off and disappear just yet. She had to distract the Sentry, make him think he almost had her. And she still hadn¡¯t picked her exit angle yet. Each time she raided a shop, she left the town a different way so the Sentries would never know where she actually meant to go. The hideout had to stay hidden at all costs.

    Another dart fired, another block. This one had gone lower, almost to her legs. They were getting smarter. If she always blocked the higher shots, they¡¯d never hit. But if they could get her legs, maybe it would hit instead of just flying by or getting intercepted. She needed to make a quick exit and figure out how to solve that problem another time. The next time thinleaves showed through the line of buildings, she dug her heel in and dashed between the stores. For some reason, she always ran faster when the trees and wildlife surrounded her. The town was foreign territory, the place of the enemy. And the hideout was a collective home, not a place to be alone. The woods were hers, totally and completely. The trees shielded her from harm, the thin mist swirled and danced with her as she ran. And the mountains stood as guardians while she frolicked. Utter perfection.

    Except for the heavy bag of tools on her shoulder. She sighed and turned her course as she reached the Foothills. It would be a kilometer or two before she recognized the territory. Until then, she just had to follow the mountains and their little cousins. Maybe even take a small rest in the middle. The Sentries weren¡¯t going to search that much forest. But a rest in her own room on something softer than tree needles and dirt sounded better. Might as well just finish the job and then rest. She pushed herself just a little bit faster. It would be even better if she could get back before the light disappeared completely.

 Chapter VIII

    Charity led the way out of the small room, disregarding the mess of notes and textbooks on the table. Ambrose followed her into the chaos, although the general bustle seemed to quiet a little in her path. As long as he stayed in her wake, nothing whizzed by his head or threatened to trip him. The pulleys were wide open, a handle resting in each opening. Charity adjusted the floor dial to ¡®P¡¯ and clicked a button on the other end before turning around. ¡°I¡¯ll meet you down there.¡± She stepped off into the darkness and dropped out of view. Ambrose copied the movements on the shaft next to that one and jumped off, his eyes still shut as he fell.

    The pulley handle fell down, down, down, even farther down. Farther than he¡¯d ever gone. A brighter light than before glowed at the bottom when he looked down, growing brighter the closer he got. Finally, he touched down and let go of the handle, which immediately whirred back upward. He didn¡¯t bother looking up. The room in front of him had his complete attention.

    The ceiling soared high above his head, easily as tall as Honor Cavern and probably taller. Around the edges of the room ornate cabinets reached all the way up to the ceiling. Swirls of copper and metal gears ornamented everything, though none of these moved. Ambrose tried to see all of the unique designs, but his view of the far side of the room was impeded by the room¡¯s main attraction. As wide as he was tall, covered in artistic flourishes and proud components, the whole outside of the Central Pillar consisted of transparent panels like the one on Charity¡¯s vital. He stepped out of the pulley alcove and looked upward to the ceiling. Charity joined him a second later, her own vital in her hand. ¡°Amazing, isn¡¯t it? Every time I¡¯m in here I find something new to focus on.¡±

    Charity stepped forward and pressed her hand to one of the opaque metal panels at the base of the Pillar. It slid open to reveal an empty space. She placed her vital in the waiting slot and retracted her hand as the metal claw grabbed hold of the cylinder. As soon as the door shut, the whole Pillar came alive. Different rings of vitals spun in various directions, and some of the cylinders switched levels. Charity¡¯s vital rose up to the third level from the top and stopped, the ring freezing as well. With meticulous care, the claw inserted the vital into the empty space and retracted back to the ground level. The Pillar ceased its movements, returning to a still, serene state.

    ¡°Wow. Even more wow.¡± Ambrose pointed up to where her vital rested. ¡°And that went really high. Why is that?¡±

    ¡°The long answer? They say I have more potential than most. The vital is stronger and brighter, so it goes higher. However, there are still a few above me. And there¡¯s a lot of people ranked higher than me with lower vitals, so this isn¡¯t a perfect representation.¡±

    Ambrose nodded. ¡°And the short answer?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s part of the magic. Sometimes the Pillar rearranges the vitals for no reason that we can tell. Some Engineers say that each thing they create is a little bit alive. Going off of that, this is probably the most ¡®alivened¡¯ thing that any Engineer has created.¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯m going to have a vital up there one day?¡±

    Charity nodded before walking over to a set of cabinets and kneeling down. She pressed her fingertips to a decorated panel on the floor. It swung up, revealing a shelf of still vitals. She selected one and replaced the panel. After inspecting it, she walked back over to Ambrose and handed him the vital.

    ¡°Take this and hold it in both hands out in front of you.¡± Ambrose did so. ¡°Can you find that place where you said your core should be?¡± He nodded. ¡°Okay, I want you to try to channel that cloud into your arms towards the vital. It¡¯s going to be hard, but you can do it.¡±

    Ambrose closed his eyes and imagined the cloud of energy in his chest. Then he tried to push the gas into his arms. Nothing. He clenched his muscles and imagined the energy being sucked into his arms. A little more motion, but nothing useful. The gas didn¡¯t want to move. What if he compressed it into particles and then tried to move it? Ambrose pushed in on the gaseous energy, willing it to form something he could interact with. Slowly, it condensed into two almost-particles of roughly equal size. He gently pushed on them. They moved.

    With renewed vigor, Ambrose pushed the particles into his arms. Everywhere they went, they burned. His muscles clenched as the particles passed through, a thin line of energy connecting it back to the gas in the center of his chest. ¡°I think I have it. What now?¡± His voice sounded strained, more so than he would have thought.

    ¡°Uh, okay. Get the gas into the vital. Imagine it condensing outside your body and inside the vital.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not a gas anymore.¡± Ambrose pushed on the particles of energy, forcing them through his skin and into the metal. They burned even hotter as they left, hot enough that he expected the metal to burst into flames and melt on the spot. But the vital remained intact. He forced the energy closer and closer together, willing them to reunite in the center of the vital. The particles moved inward, increasing in proximity until just before they merged. They resisted the motion, as if something kept them apart. He gritted his teeth and shoved them together, abandoning any semblance of gentleness. With a visible flash, the particles united inside the vital and filled the clear portion with some sort of smoke or mist. When the haze cleared, the vital glowed bright, gears spinning so fast that Ambrose could barely see their teeth.

    He blinked, holding the vital in one hand. A sheen of sweat covered his face, and his jaw hurt. And that tiny burning sensation along his arms stayed too. But inside, the gas had started to condense on its own. He squeezed it together, harder than he had with the vital. It flared within him and shrunk from a cloud down into a point of light and energy. Infinitely small, but a start.

    ¡°Did I do it right? Is it going to explode?¡± Ambrose handed the vital to Charity, as if it were a dangerous project he didn¡¯t want near him.

    Charity shook the glaze from her eyes. ¡°Yes, you did fine. Better than fine. And no, it¡¯s perfectly safe.¡± She motioned to the Pillar. ¡°Shall we?¡±

    Ambrose tapped his fingers against the panel from before, revealing the same empty space. He rubbed the edge of the vital before surrendering it to the machine inside the Pillar, stepping back to watch its ascent. It probably wouldn¡¯t go far, but he still wanted to keep an eye on it.

    This time as the central lift commenced its journey upward, the rings of vitals were utterly still. It rose above the middle of the Pillar, above the second cluster. Up to the top five rows. Then the top three. It passed Charity¡¯s and continued upward. Ambrose squinted to make it out against all the other pieces and parts up that high.

    The vital clicked into place at the very top of the Pillar, light inside flaring. If Charity¡¯s eyes had been slightly glazed before, they were completely out of focus this time. ¡°Sweet Mother of Machines. Right at the top.¡±

    Ambrose could still see it despite all the other vitals in the way. The glow was hard to miss. The glow¡­

    ¡°Charity, what makes the vitals glow?¡±

    She shook off the dust and cobwebs once again. ¡°Glow? Oh, all of them glow a little. It¡¯s a product of the power they have inside them. There¡¯s something alive in there. At least, I think so. Part of you, or your magic, lives in there. Normally you can see them after you¡¯ve awakened your core. Also normally, your own vital glows brightest compared to the others, but currently there¡¯s one glowing brighter than mine in my eyes.¡±Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, thin black box. There seemed to be a lock on the edge of it, although Ambrose couldn¡¯t see a way to open it. ¡°Do what you just did, only smaller. You¡¯ll only need a trickle of energy to disengage the lock.¡±

    Ambrose took the box in his hands and let the tiniest bit of energy flow from his core and down through his arms to the box. The mechanism clicked, and the lid popped open. He raised it with his left hand and looked at its contents. A single pin lay on the softest fabric he¡¯d ever felt, two copper-colored gears orbiting each other. He pulled it out and raised it up to the light of the vital--his vital--from the top of the Pillar. It shone like a beacon.

    ¡°Welcome to the Engineers. Most take a week, sometimes a mooncycle, to do what you did in a day. The highest congratulations, Ambrose.¡±

    Cheer stumbled up the last few steps to the hideout, the bag over her shoulder feeling like she¡¯d filled it to the hem with rocks instead of tools to cut rocks. She pushed through the camouflage hangings over the cave opening and walked the few more steps to the central table, where Creed¡¯s plan was still pinned down. She dumped the tools there.

    A quiet alarm bell started to ring in the back of her mind. Normally at least one of the others was making a ruckus. But right now it was quiet. Too quiet. Maybe Trust had stayed behind while the others were off somewhere. He tended to be the quietest of all of them. Or maybe they¡¯d gotten caught up in something and were delayed or had to find a different route back. But no, a bag of clothes and a box of needles sat next to the right wall. And a stack of wooden boards with a can of glue on top. All where they should have been after a raid. Then where had everyone gone? And why? She looked back at the entrance, half-expecting Levity to come sauntering in.

    The table scraped behind her, drawing her attention. She whirled around, hand going to her bag. Some of those tools were sharp enough to do damage. But no, just Mantra dragging the table over to the wall and flipping it up on its end. He unpinned the map and stuffed it in his pocket. ¡°Mantra? What are you doing?¡± He didn¡¯t look at her.

    Arms grabbed her from behind, pinning her tightly. Cheer struggled in the grip of whoever had gotten the jump on her, but they had her too well. ¡°Stop trying. It¡¯ll make this easier,¡± Levity hissed in her ear.

    ¡°What?¡± Cheer stopped trying to break free. Levity walked her over to the upturned table. Mantra pulled her arms around the back of it and tied them in place, securing her waist and legs next. ¡°Mantra! Tell me what¡¯s going on!¡± Cheer tried to struggle against the rope, but the time to escape had come and gone.

    Creed stepped from the shadows of the room in front of her. ¡°Sorry, Cheer, but this is necessary.¡±

    ¡°Necessary? What do you mean ¡®necessary¡¯? What are you going to do to me?¡±

    Creed didn¡¯t answer, instead pulling off his shirt and tossing it over the back of a chair from the table. Levity raised an eyebrow. ¡°What? I don¡¯t want to get it on a new shirt. Do you have any idea what it does to fabric?¡±

    The panic started to rise inside Cheer, although she forced it down. She had to be cool and demanding. They¡¯d toss her out if she showed them that side of her.

    Creed pulled a box off the top of the stack of recently-pilfered goods and opened it, revealing a rack of darts. Exactly like the one Cheer had pulled out of her bag a few hours before. ¡°You know, striker venom really is potent stuff.¡± He seemed to be enjoying this a little too much.

    ¡°Uh, yeah, I know. I got hit with two of them my second week here.¡±

    ¡°And then you were out for a few days recovering from them. During which time you served no purpose in supporting any of us.¡± Creed pulled a small inkwell from his pocket and set it on the chair. ¡°Back then you were too weak to take this, so we didn¡¯t bother. But now, it¡¯s become a necessity. You¡¯re too old and you know too much for us to risk them taking you.¡± He pulled a dart from the rack and dipped it in the inkwell, drawing it out with the point covered in black.

    Levity followed the movement. ¡°Have you ever seen one of us dead to the world after getting hit? No, you haven¡¯t. We¡¯ve trained ourselves to take that poison and deal with it.¡± She raised the dart and stared at it with a smile. ¡°Plus, if you¡¯re going to be stuck with a bunch of needles, you might as well have something to prove for it.¡± She plunged the dart into Cheer¡¯s right arm, holding it there with a vengeance until all the poison emptied from it. Immediately the muscles in her arm clenched up, a fire beginning to burn inside them.

    ¡°This will hurt more than anything you¡¯ve ever experienced. But it will give you the edge to set you apart from everyone else you meet.¡± Creed stuck her with another needle in her left calf, sending the burning feeling up into her waist and chest. Her breath started to catch. ¡°Hey, but you can¡¯t fall asleep. We can only work while you¡¯re awake. And the sooner this is finished, the better it is for all of us.¡± Levity dipped another pair of darts in the ink and jabbed them into Cheer¡¯s arm, who screamed as poison-induced haze started to cloud her vision. She tried to claw at the shreds of her consciousness as they were torn from her, but one by one they slipped away until she didn¡¯t have a handhold and fell into the darkness.

    ¡°Your Eminence. Emperor!¡± Hyeon¡¯s eyes jerked open, his body going on full alert. Who had yelled at him? He lay in a small white room, no bigger than his bedchambers. Several beds had curtains hanging next to them, although only one had the curtains drawn.

    ¡°Where am I?¡± He tried to sit up, but a pain in his stomach forced him back down. It felt like some of his stomach acid had come to the outside.

    ¡°You¡¯re in the infirmary, Your Majesty. Your wife is here too.¡± A young girl in a white robe and pinned-back hair leaned over him. ¡°You¡¯re going to be just fine. Although those acid burns might be there for a few days before they decide to go away.¡±

    ¡°Acid burns?¡±

    ¡°From the acid that we used to dissolve the crystal. The alchemists got on it right away when they heard what happened. After a few tests, they found something that worked, although a lot slower than they would have liked. And nobody lost any fingers in the process!¡± She hummed happily to herself as she rubbed some sort of cream on his arm. Whatever it was, it made the burning lessen greatly.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I don¡¯t follow. What crystal? And where is my wife?¡±

    The girl frowned down at him. ¡°You really don¡¯t remember?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°The reception party? The chaos? The attackers? The growing crystals?¡±

    The memories rushed back to him like a sharp needle to the head. ¡°Nari. Where is she?¡±

    ¡°Shhh, calm down. She¡¯s right over there, behind those curtains.¡±

    ¡°Is she okay?¡±

    The girl clicked her tongue at him. ¡°You aren¡¯t relaxing.¡±

    ¡°I am the Emperor! I demand to see my wife!¡±

    She took a step back, a hand over her heart. ¡°Okay, okay. Don¡¯t get your bandages in a twist.¡± She started towards the bed with the drawn curtains. One of the healers seated nearby looked up and gasped in shock before hurrying over to Hyeon¡¯s side.

    ¡°Our humblest apologies, Your Eminence. Seyeon is a student here. She has not yet learned to respect her superiors.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, very well. I accept your apology. Now what has happened to the Empress?¡±

    The thin man looked over at the curtain, then back to Hyeon. You¡¯d better stay laying down.¡± He snapped his fingers, and Seyeon drew back the curtain.

    Nari seemed remarkably unchanged, the same grimace of pain frozen on her features as she slept. Her arms were at her sides, tied down with white cloth. Two healers sat over her, masks over their faces and goggles over their eyes. They each held a thin flask of green liquid in one hand and a set of tweezers in the other. Hyeon noted that while he had on a white robe tied at his waist, she still had on her torn dress from the reception. It didn¡¯t seem as royal when it hung halfway in tatters around her. Little holes here and there had been burned away, presumably by acid. In the center of the table, where the healers were working, sprouts of amber crystal still grew up from her stomach. Little by little, the acid wore them down, but the spikes had already done more damage than any knife.

    The healer near Hyeon saw the expression on his face. ¡°They¡¯ve assured me that they will do everything in their power to keep the Empress Nari alive. There is nothing you can do right now except rest and recover your own strength. Please, consider what I have said.¡± He bowed slightly to Hyeon and walked back over to the bed holding Nari, drawing the curtain and again hiding her from the Emperor¡¯s view. But the image of the growing crystals stayed stuck in Hyeon¡¯s head all the way until he fell into a fitful sleep.

 Chapter IX

    The girl still hadn¡¯t woken up, and that worried Mikhel. The lights had played across the sky two moonsets ago. Since then, she¡¯d been curled up on top of a couple of knitted shawls, a thick blanket over her. No food, no water, no time with her eyes open. But a constant heartbeat and steady breathing. Something about that scared him.

    Mikhel downed another mug of burning liquid. This one didn¡¯t seem to be alcoholic, but it did the same thing. His insides perked up and unfroze a little. He set the mug back down on the table and sighed.

    His wife, Aina, came bustling in from the kitchen, a drying cloth over her shoulder. She sat down beside him and ran her fingers through his hair. ¡°What is troubling you, my dear?¡±

    ¡°How long is she going to be like that? It¡¯s not natural for anyone to sleep that long.¡±

    ¡°But is she natural? You said she fell from the sky. Perhaps for the people of the stars, sleep happens rarely, so they must take what they can in times like this.¡±

    Mikhel raised his mug again, but only a few already-chilled droplets from the bottom slid out onto his tongue. ¡°I still wonder if I should have just left her there. Perhaps others are looking for her.¡±

    Aina rubbed his shoulders. ¡°You did the right thing. What other choice does one have when they see someone asleep in the cold? I would question your judgement more if you¡¯d left her there.¡±

    The girl stirred, stretching her back and legs. Mikhel froze, mug halfway between his face and the table. Aina kept her eyes on her husband.

    The girl in the corner sat up, stretching her arms gingerly like they were made of fine glass and cracking her eyelids open. She looked around the small cottage with an eye of interest. When she spoke it seemed like she had difficulty forming the words. ¡°Hello? Can you tell me where I am?¡±

    Mikhel finally set the mug on the table, his mouth still open. Aina walked over to the corner and knelt down in front of the girl, taking her hand. ¡°You¡¯re in my cottage, darling, in the Barrier Mountains. I¡¯ll find you a map.¡± She paused. ¡°Where are you from?¡±

    The girl cocked her head, as if the question seemed odd to her. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t know. I can¡¯t remember.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t remember where you¡¯re from?¡± The girl shook her head. ¡°That¡¯s okay, love. You fell a very long way before my husband found you. Perhaps the memories will return with time. For now, are you hungry?¡±

    ¡°Hungry? What is that?¡±

    Aina stared at her for a second. ¡°Do you want food? Something to eat? It¡¯s hard to think on an empty stomach.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I think I am hungry. Thank you.¡±

    Aina stood up. ¡°Well you just wait right here. I¡¯ll go find something for you to eat.¡± She motioned for Mikhel to follow her into the kitchen. As soon as the girl was out of sight, Mikhel let his tongue loose.

    ¡°She ¡®fell a very long way¡¯? Really?¡±

    Aina put her hands on her hips. ¡°Well what was I supposed to tell her? That she fell from the sky?¡±

    ¡°Well, no. But what if it sparks a memory? You heard her. She can¡¯t remember anything.¡±

    ¡°The memories will come on their own. We¡¯re not going to tell her. If she really doesn¡¯t remember anything, then I want to make sure she has a fair chance at becoming part of the normal community. She might be a little odd all her life, but no one will take her seriously if she tells them she fell from the sky.¡±

    Mikhel grumbled. ¡°Fine. Now are you going to get her something to eat?¡±

    Astoria slid down the edge of the slick rocks, back towards the village she hated. Each mooncycle after her visit, she swore she¡¯d never come back. And every time the next mooncycle rolled around, she convinced herself she had to.

    The sky had mostly cleared today, a welcome surprise. They¡¯d had rain for the last several days. That just meant it could be clear and humid at the same time. She dodged around the blue-grey thinleaf trees and the few wild palefruit bushes as she wound her way down the side of Slantspire. The town had been built right at the foot of the Spire, a few hours¡¯ hike from the coastline and the town there. Thank Yukima she didn¡¯t have to go that far.

    A few birds with a mix of black feathers and scales took flight from a nearby tree, circling above Astoria¡¯s head before heading off opposite the nearest shore. She continued her trek down.

    Just before the village, she stopped and pulled off her riding gloves and necklace. It wouldn¡¯t do for them to have proof of her better life, even if some of them suspected it. She stuffed the items in her bag. Time to be a different person. Astoria shook her head. She¡¯d used to be so good at that.

    The familiar graveyard lay on the opposite edge of town, towards the coast. Astoria trudged through the streets, eyes firmly on the road ahead of her and not on all the people turning to stare at her. Technically, as she¡¯d been told time and again, it was dangerous for her to use these roads. People could just attack her and the law would side with them. Well, fine. As if that had ever stopped her. She marched along, pointedly not looking at the housing district and the gaping hole in the center of it. Every mooncycle it got smaller, but even after two years it still existed. A void in the community. Maybe they left it alone and delayed the reconstruction plans just to spite her, knowing she¡¯d come along and be reminded again.

    Two years ago, she¡¯d been at the height of her career. She could change her face and her personality just like that, slipping in and out of the circles as easily as walking. Each time, she left with something new. A few coins, a valuable heirloom, a piece of information for blackmail, she could get it all. Which meant if someone needed something and they didn¡¯t care how they got it, they went to her.

    The day she took her last job started like any other. A nice night in someone¡¯s hayloft, swipe some extra food for breakfast while paying for the rest and making small talk with the bakery owner. She¡¯d been headed off to the docks when a man had fallen in step with her. He¡¯d called himself Rowan, and he¡¯d had a job for her. In the heart of the housing district, an enemy of his had a hideout in a house registered under a different name. All she¡¯d had to do was nick a small necklace with a red stone on it and he¡¯d give her more money than she made in a few mooncycles.

    The job looked straightforward, so, naturally, everything had gone wrong. When she¡¯d finally made it inside the house, the man at the table acted like he didn¡¯t know what she was talking about. When she pulled a knife, he held up a poker from the fire, hand shaking slightly like an innocent¡¯s might. But it had to be an act. Astoria retaliated by lighting a torch and using it to keep him at bay.

    He¡¯d knocked her off balance, she¡¯d dropped the torch, and the house had caught fire. While she ran, the man went into the flames, yelling for someone who never came. He died in that fire. So had all those who hadn¡¯t gotten out of the neighboring houses before the inferno spread. He¡¯d been innocent after all, just like everyone else.

    Astoria pushed aside the rusty gate to the cemetery and turned to the right. Back in the far corner stood a raised plaque with a tiny dragon carved on top. It held the names of those who¡¯d died in the fire. The names of the people she¡¯d killed.

    The grave immediately in front of the plaque knew her touch. A tarnished copper plate was set into the stone slab, the man¡¯s name and life accomplishments etched into it. Astoria knelt down and pressed her hand to the copper plate, closing her eyes and forcing out a few tears. She didn¡¯t know if she really meant them, but perhaps the others would look on her a little more kindly if she appeared remorseful.

    She¡¯d told Cirris she would be gone for a few hours, but she could only sit by a grave for so long, especially when the weather begged her to be up and moving. Besides, she hadn¡¯t really meant to spend hours here in remembrance. She already did that enough on her own time. Now she had other things to attend to. Things that were probably best kept hidden.

    Astoria pushed herself up from the decrepit ground and stepped out of the graveyard. A small shed sat right outside the gates, the lock always hanging unfixed. She pulled open the door and disappeared into the small space. Her bag didn¡¯t have much in it, but the few items it did have were hidden away. She shoved aside a pair of grave shovels and a gravestone awl, placing her bag on a low shelf. The clasp on the front rotated sideways and allowed her access to the hidden compartment in the lining of the bag. A wig, a moonbeam, and a necklace with a crescent on it. Her actual uniform went in the normal part of the bag. That she could explain away if she needed to.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    The robe came first, replacing her riding pants and buttoned shirt. Her face needed a little dusting off, although she didn¡¯t look half bad. But the paint on her cheeks had to go. Feeling almost normal, just like old times, Astoria pinned her red locks up and slid the wig over them. Without the paint and the hair, no one had a chance of recognizing her. Just another apprentice priestess, customary black hair braided in an intricate pattern, moonbeam down the center. A little box of glittering gel finished the persona, adding a shine to her eyelids. When it came to becoming someone else, the little details were the ones that sold the disguise.

    This time around, she wasn¡¯t disguising herself to steal something. Or, well, maybe she was. But if nobody was going to give her normalcy and belonging, she¡¯d have to steal them. And maybe these religious people had the right idea. Several times in the last mooncycle she¡¯d looked for things that seemed slightly impossible without divine intervention, and to her surprise a few had come up. One day, when she¡¯d left this Spire behind, maybe she¡¯d formally join. For now, they loved Priestess Astala. That was enough.

    Astoria--Astala--opened the door to the shed and looked around. No one near. Perfect. She stepped daintily down onto the scrub grass. What a poor sight this was, an overgrown graveyard with not a soul sparing it a glance. Well, she certainly would give the dead the respect they were due. Astala adjusted one of the braids in her hairdo and walked lightly to the center of the graveyard, where a bronzed statue of the moon goddess rested, her gaze locked on something far in the distance as she sat on her pedestal. The fountain below hadn¡¯t worked since Astoria had started coming here, but Astala remembered a time when it had been clean and the water flowed clear. Wonderful days, they were. If only they were not so far removed. She pulled a coin from her bag and placed it in the hand of the statue. With the fountain¡¯s life gone, she doubted it would bring good luck. But someone might need a spare coin somewhere down the road. This would point them down the right path.

    Now she really did have to hurry. The worship service started soon, and the unity building sat on the other side of the town. It wouldn¡¯t do to have an apprentice priestess late to a service.

    Cirris made another loop around Slantspire before Darkcloud rumbled beneath him. ¡°Well I don¡¯t know. What do you want to do?¡± The dragon made a quiet screeching noise. ¡°Are you hungry?¡± Darkcloud bobbed her head. ¡°We can fix that.¡± Cirris brought them down low over the blue-grey trees and turned towards the nearest part of the coastline. ¡°Does fish sound good to you?¡±

    Slantspire was just so big, more so than any casual observer noticed. Even flying at speed, it took a rider a few minutes to cross the island, more if they wanted to crest Slantspire before going back down the other side. So Cirris pulled back and stopped long before the smoke cloud that billowed from the coastside town of Seaglade. He squinted through the haze, trying to see what had caused the fire. It looked like it had started from some of the coastside buildings, but that made no sense. They were the closest to the water. Why hadn¡¯t the fire just been put out? He raised his gaze to the sea beyond and saw a fleet of ships, long and narrow with two sets of sails. Each set had two triangles of cloth set apart from each other at the top but connected at the bottom. A fairly common design, but not in those colors. The sails were rendered in black and maroon with a patterned sword and spear crossed on each of them. Cirris¡¯s stomach dropped. Raiders.

    ¡°Get us closer, but stay out of sight. They¡¯ll take us both down if they get the chance.¡± They crept forward, hovering just above the treeline. The flames had grown by the time they reached the edge of the trading town. The dockyard had been taken by the flames, along with the sails on several of the fishing ships. Cirris wanted to help, but anyone with half a mind would shoot down a dragon that came anywhere close to civilians. Even and especially one with a rider.

    ¡°Okay girl, set us down right on the sand. I want to see who these raiders are.¡± Darkcloud managed a scratchy purr and glided on the breeze over to the edge of the trees. Cirris swung his leg over and grabbed hold of the stirrup, dropping until he hung from the dragon by one arm. ¡°Nice and easy.¡± Darkcloud swooped down, leveling out and giving Cirris time to jump before climbing back up to safety again. He pointed up at the dragon after dusting the sand off his clothes. ¡°We¡¯ll work on that.¡±

    It looked like the raiders had come for supplies and stayed for the valuables. Several raiders were fastening a large crate to a rope hanging down from the deck of the foremost ship, which had sailed right up until it had hit the sandy beach. The others were heading into the town for runs on the stores there. They were probably after tools and cut gemstones again. Cirris had heard stories of raiders hitting other Spire towns, especially Widespire, but he¡¯d never actually seen them. This looked like something out of a bedtime story that Rennick would tell the younger riders-in-training to quiet them.

    Some of the raiders were returning, led by a woman with fishnet gloves (come to think of it, they probably were actual fishnets) and a short black dress, painted markings all around her eyes. She pointed the way with a darksteel sabre, a wicked grin on her face. The raiders pulled people along behind them, dressed very differently. Hostages? But why? In all of Rennick¡¯s stories, the raiders never took prisoners. In fact, the more you worked with them, the better off you¡¯d be. Sometimes they¡¯d even offer you a place on one of the ships, although the stories cautioned that the raiders also liked throwing people off the deck, particularly into the maws of sea beasts.

    Cirris waited until the raiders hoisting the crate were finished and had gone back for a second load before he darted between the trees and mostly-intact buildings. Even here on the edge of town, far from the flames, ash still floated through the air like corrupted snow. The heat washed over him as he snuck between buildings towards the flames. As a rider, he¡¯d learned to tolerate more heat than most, but this temperature was still oppressive. He knelt down and peered around the edge of a building not far from the assorted raiders and the woman with the sabre.

    A tall man with a small head pulled at his coat as he spoke. ¡°The food is stowed. McKinley took the usual bunch to go find some extra crates for reserves. I told him he¡¯s dull, but he went anyway.¡±

    ¡°Let him go. With a town like this, it couldn¡¯t hurt to stay a few extra minutes. Besides, that¡¯ll give us more time to see what we have here.¡± The woman strutted up to one of the prisoners and ran a fingernail from the girl¡¯s neck up to her chin. ¡°A real shame we won¡¯t get to keep them. I could use a waiting girl on the Luxury. Ah, well. Take them onboard the Revenge and lock them in the far end of the brig. Next time I see Milton, I¡¯m going to twist his ear so badly.¡±

    ¡°Slacking on cleaning duty again?¡±

    ¡°That boy is hopeless.¡± The woman sheathed her blade. ¡°Go! Come back when our real prizes are secure. I¡¯ll probably be on the Hugo when we set sail. And I want three skirtbows following me when we shove off.¡±

    ¡°As you command, Kaptain.¡± The prisoners were shuffled away into a small boat waiting on the shore. Cirris watched them row away. Oddly, most of the hostages had been priestesses or priests, the color of their robes giving them away. Wasn¡¯t it some kind of war crime to kidnap a priestess? He leaned a bit too far around the corner of the building, losing his balance and falling out into the open. The kaptain¡¯s head snapped around, staring right at him. The same cruel smile darkened her face.

    ¡°Now what do we have here?¡± She took a few steps toward him, ignoring the ash that settled in her hair.

    Cirris pushed himself to his feet, brushing off the ash and dust. The best way to deal with a raider, at least according to Rennick, was to match their attitude. Cowards were weak and raiders treated them as such. ¡°Now kaptain, I¡¯m sure you already have lots of people, many of whom look better than me. Besides, I¡¯m somewhat already taken. Although for the right price¡­¡± He mimed holding a sack of coins.

    The kaptain¡¯s smile became a little more genuine. ¡°Now here¡¯s a man who knows how to speak my language.¡± She closed the distance to him and offered an arm. He took it, holding onto her forearm and shaking it. ¡°Kaptain Rin. Not currently from anywhere.¡±

    Cirris laughed, trying to keep the small amount of panic inside under control. ¡°Cirris Dawnbreaker, Slantspire.¡±

    The kaptain released his arm. ¡°The actual Spire? Not a town?¡±

    ¡°Exactly.¡±

    Rin looked him up and down. ¡°That¡¯s quite a uniform. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve seen it before.¡±

    ¡°Then you¡¯ve never met the Riders of the Spire.¡± Cirris tapped the emblem on his left breast, a slim dragon made of flowing red fire. A black spike shot up in the background.

    The kaptain took a step back. ¡°You¡¯re a dragon rider?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not the only thing I ride, but yes.¡± Cirris pulled out his dagger and balanced it on one finger. ¡°Why do you ask?¡± The dagger wobbled a little, almost falling to the sand.

    ¡°I¡¯ve always wanted a dragon to add to my fleet. Just think about it. What if you could launch fire at your enemies and not have to waste ammunition? What if you could tear off their sails without losing any able-bodied sailors?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d get shot down. All ships nowadays plan for things like that.¡± Cirris glanced up at the net launchers on the deck of the nearest ship. ¡°All the smart ones, anyways.¡±

    Rin winked. ¡°For wild dragons, yes. But not for one with a rider.¡±

    Cirris thought for a moment. ¡°Perhaps. But it¡¯s not a theory I¡¯d stake my life on just yet.¡±

    ¡°Man of your talent and experience? I¡¯d expect as much.¡±

    ¡°But hey, it¡¯s always nice to have some options. And if you¡¯re ever around here, I might know a place you could stay. Although it¡¯s a little higher up than you''re probably used to.¡±

    Rin smiled. ¡°You¡¯ve got some guts, Rider. I¡¯ll tell you that.¡± She pulled a dark sphere from the pocket of her dress and tossed it to him. ¡°Once every so often, I stop by the western isles. If you decide you can¡¯t live without me, show this to the gentlemen at the bar.¡± She looked over her shoulder at the boats. ¡°Now I suppose I have a raid to finish.¡± She turned to go.

    Cirris caught her shoulder. ¡°I do have to say, I love your hair, but it seems a little long for your profession. And you would look lovely with a fairy¡¯s cut.¡±

    She raised her eyebrows. ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡± She turned back to the ship and spotted a young boy poking his head out a porthole. ¡°Milton! I¡¯m going to throw you over and let the fish bite off your ears!¡± She took off towards the ships. The boy disappeared inside the ship.

    Cirris walked back through the burning town, finally letting his hands shake with nervous energy. It took several tries to resheathe the dagger.

    That had been close. Too close. He needed to watch where he hid from now on. Although this would make a good story to tell Astoria about¡­

    He took one more look at Seaglade. The flames had started to die down, but the damage stayed. A real shame too. This had been a nice town. He shook his head slowly. They¡¯d rebuild eventually. But he¡¯d probably have to hold off on dock-skimming until they fixed the dockmaster¡¯s office.

    Cirris found Darkcloud right where he¡¯d left her, peering down through the trees at the beach. She descended enough to let him climb up and then rose above the branches. ¡°You ready, girl?¡± She roared a reply and took off back towards the Spire.

 Chapter X

    ¡°Emperor?¡±

    Hyeon opened his eyes. He hadn¡¯t been able to sleep for at least an hour. ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Empress Nari is awake.¡±

    He sat up, ignoring the diminishing pain from the acid burns. ¡°She¡¯s awake?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Your Eminence.¡±

    ¡°Can I speak with her?¡± Hyeon had learned that making requests went much further with the healers than demanding.

    ¡°For a minute. They are getting rid of the last bits of crystal as we speak. You may converse with her, and then we¡¯ll try to repair the damage done by that knife. Thank the goddess it didn¡¯t hit anything major.¡±

    Hyeon swung his legs over the edge of the bed and pushed himself to his feet, joints protesting as he walked for the first time in four days. Nari¡¯s bed remained in the same place as it had been the first time he¡¯d seen her. This time, though, the curtain had been pulled open to reveal her face. She smiled when she saw Hyeon. He reached out and held her hand, not daring to do more.

    ¡°Speaking¡­ hurts.¡±

    ¡°Then don¡¯t say anything. I¡¯m right here. And I¡¯ll be here when they finish doing whatever magic it is that they do.¡±

    ¡°Not¡­ magic.¡± Nari managed a smile.

    ¡°Shhh. Rest now. It¡¯ll all be over soon.¡± Nari closed her eyes and squeezed his hand before letting go. Hyeon smiled down at her and walked back to his own bed. The thin healer followed him. ¡°Please pass a message to the Captain of the Guard that I need to see him.¡±

    ¡°It will be done, Your Majesty.¡± The healer bustled off.

    The Captain of the Guard arrived precisely one hour after Hyeon had sent the summons, saluting as he came to a stop. ¡°At ease, Captain.¡±

    ¡°You asked to see me, sir?¡± He dropped the salute but stayed as stiff as a board.

    ¡°Yes. Has anyone been in the reception hall since the¡­ incident?¡±

    ¡°No sir. I had the building locked down until we received further orders from you.¡±

    Hyeon smiled. ¡°Excellent. Good work. I want you to take as many men as you need and search every square centimeter of that room. Even the entrance points on the outside. I need to know how they got in and who they were.¡±

    ¡°Yes, sir. I¡¯ll see to it right away. Was there anything else?¡±

    ¡°No. That is all for now. You are dismissed.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, sir!¡± The Captain saluted again before turning and marching out of the infirmary. Hyeon nodded to himself. One more thing done. One very important thing. During his time in the infirmary, he¡¯d had plenty of time to think about where the attack might have come from. He¡¯d never heard of the amber crystals, nor, apparently, had anyone else. Which left only a few options as to its origin. Either they were a creation of another sovereign¡¯s tinkers, outside the boundaries of the empire, they belonged to a scientist on the Outer Isles, or the Engineers were making another appearance. And the more he thought, the more he was sure. The Engineers had been chased out of the capital after they¡¯d massacred hundreds. Perhaps this was an attempt, hundreds of years later, to strike back. Well, they had chosen the wrong tactic. No one played the game of revenge better than him.

    The common room swirled before Cheer¡¯s eyes, stone surfaces rippling like water or glass as it was blown. Something smelled terrible, so close to her nose that it turned her stomach. She tried to shy away from it before remembering her predicament. Levity glanced up from her book. ¡°Creed, she¡¯s finally awake.¡±

    Creed stood up and coated another dart while Mantra capped the jar of mountain salt he¡¯d stuck in front of Cheer¡¯s face. Creed briefly considered where to place the dart before  jabbing it in. The room shook more, the chairs growing bigger and the ceiling falling down. Cheer tried to keep her head up, but the poison pulled it downward. Light and sound were disappearing again¡­

    ¡°She only made it through one this time? Weakling.¡± Levity laughed. ¡°Should¡¯ve expected that.¡±

    The next two days were torture like she¡¯d never known before. Waking moments blended together, pain and color and jeers and more pain. Her heart slowly roasted inside of her from her fever. The space behind her forehead heated to the point that she wanted to knock it against a wall.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    Finally, after two days, the needles stopped. Creed wrapped the areas with ink in bandages from the supply raid. Levity pulled Cheer¡¯s body off the upturned table and held it away from her. A trail of foam and drool trailed all the way down to her waist, along with a coating of sweat. Levity practically pushed Cheer into her room and onto the makeshift bed. ¡°Don¡¯t come out until you smell better than this.¡± She walked out of the room and over to the rope. ¡°I¡¯m going to be up there trying to get that disgustingness off of me. Don¡¯t holler.¡± She pulled herself up and out of view.

    The ceiling above looked different than before. Had it always had that green sheen to it? Cheer tried to push herself up and rub the sleep from her eyes, but failed on both accounts. All of her muscles screamed in agony, bile rising in her throat. She turned over despite the pain and let the fluid spill from her mouth and splash on the floor. With that done, her body demanded more rest. She grasped at the threads of reality as they frayed away into blackness, but to no avail. Silence once again.

    Four days of the same. Four whole days. They were the worst days she¡¯d ever had. Unable to walk, unable to eat, barely able to drink water. Her arm and leg alternated between feeling completely dead and screaming for mercy. Finally, on the morning of the fifth day, Cheer pushed herself up and stood on wobbly feet. The floor shifted dangerously, like Levity had that one night she let herself finish a bottle of extra-strong wine. She¡¯d had to sleep in Creed¡¯s room for two days while the effects wore off because nobody would let her climb the rope.

    She pushed off the wall and stumbled into the common room, finding the nearest chair and sinking into it. Creed looked up from his spot at the table, which now sat in its proper place. ¡°Morning, Cheer.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you ¡®morning¡¯ me. I have several bones to pick with you when this wears off.¡±

    Creed shrugged. ¡°Levity said the same thing when I didn¡¯t stop after she told me to. But she got over it.¡±

    Cheer grumbled under her breath and braced her elbows against her thighs. That dizzy feeling had started to come back. And the bandages were really starting to annoy her. They itched so badly after four moonsets. She picked at the edge of the one on her leg, pausing when Creed glared at her.

    ¡°Leave that alone. You can take it off when you¡¯re back to normal. Or when you get to your new normal.¡± Cheer glared right back at him, but left the bandage alone. For now.

    ¡°What did you even put there? You never asked me for ideas.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t get to choose. And you¡¯ll see when the bandages come off.¡±

    Cheer stared down the tunnel to where the main entryway had a new layer of cloth hanging in front of it. Had they not left anything useful for her to do? She pushed herself back up and stumbled into her room. If she couldn¡¯t do anything else, she¡¯d draw. She¡¯d draw and draw until she couldn¡¯t pick up another charcoal pencil.

    Sora fell to one knee beside Akio¡¯s burned body, forcing his own pain out of the way. There was no point in focusing on pain unless it taught you something. And Sora already knew not to run through fire unless it improved chances of surviving.

    Akio needed help. She had too many burns for him to do much, and they needed to be cleaned. What was it she¡¯d done right before she fell asleep? She reached toward the moon and¡­ The stream! He could use the water to cool her down. They weren¡¯t going to get anywhere like this. Sora pushed down on his knee and hauled himself to his feet before grabbing Akio by her arms and swinging her onto his back so that her head rested against his. Leaning forward, he used their combined weight to start moving towards the stream. One foot over the other. One step, then one more. The edge of the field, the belt between the stream and the burned grain, had tiny plants growing everywhere, each one just tall enough to be a hindrance. Sora stumbled as he hit a particularly stubborn plant, pitching forward and falling to the ground. He tried to stand, but the combination of Akio¡¯s weight and the pain from his burns sent him back to the ground.

    The stream was right there. He wouldn''t give up and let the duke win. He raised one arm and dug it into the soil, levering himself up and forward. Then another arm, then a knee. His burns were already dirtied, and he lumped the additional pain in with the rest, shoving it deep down where he couldn¡¯t feel it. Sora inched his way towards the water until an abrupt cool washed over his arms. He opened his eyes, not realizing they had been closed, and felt for a handhold under the surface of the water. His hand caught on a rock, and he pulled the two of them into the stream.

    So many signals and thoughts crowded his mind. His burns weren¡¯t hot anymore, but they were raw. The water was snowmelt, blessedly pure, so the water didn¡¯t leave any residue on the wounds when he popped his head back above the surface and the light wind blew droplets off his cheeks. Even now as the cold seeped into his bones, the shock of the fight and the fire threatened to pull him under as surely as a whirlpool. He resisted the rising level of panic and turned to Akio.

    She looked absolutely terrible. Although her dress had given up trying to incinerate itself, it still had several holes from where the sparks had won the victory. Her black hair had burnt in an uneven line, the longest part still several centimeters shorter than it had been. The blue ribbon in her braid had a black, frayed edge, and the crescent pendant had a dark, warped look in several places. All along her side, especially on her face, angry red blotches started to show as the water cooled the skin around them. The bits of black among the red flaked off in the flow of the stream, the rest of the burns gradually receding in color. Distinct red and white patches eventually settled into place and stopped changing color. He silently thanked Yukima that she was still asleep. She had plenty of pain to come, but at least the worst of the cleaning was over. For now.

    Beyond the stream, the fields stretched for kilometers more. At the very edge of his vision, Sora thought he could pick out some trees. Maybe the forest was closer than he remembered? But it would still be a very long hike between the other grain fields, and he didn¡¯t have the strength to carry her that whole way. They¡¯d have to walk it together. The moon touched the horizon, close to finishing her descent as the sky brightened with the rare colors of moonset. They could spend a little more time washing and cleaning wounds, but they needed to get going soon. The duke would find out soon that they had escaped his death trap. Sora hesitated, then tapped Akio on the shoulder. He wished she could sleep for longer, but survival dictated otherwise. ¡°Akio? Wake up. We need to go.¡±

 Chapter XI

    Kaptain Rin hung from the side of the Luxury, a rope in one hand and sea water in the other. Most kaptains didn¡¯t bother actually sailing with their crews, preferring to hole up in their cabins with charts and other instruments to make them feel important. Rin thought they were all dull. The best way to show the crew your prowess and poise was to sail alongside them. They wouldn¡¯t slack if you were breathing down their necks. And it paid to keep an eye on some of them. She didn¡¯t often worry about mutiny, but she¡¯d seen it pop up out of nowhere before.

    She pulled on the rope, walking on the side of the ship toward the bow. That was the best place to be in fair weather, the morningcrow¡¯s nest up top being the second. Rin climbed up over the railing of the ship and onto the deck. The wind blew through her hair like it was a sail, lifting her and filling her with an elation that only a sailor could understand. Something tickled the back of her neck, soft like a fancy evening gown. She still had to get used to her short hair, but the length allowed her to feel the wind better. Sun in the sky, wind blowing through her hair, a whole crew sailing with a hold full of supplies. The perfect day for treachery and crime on the straits.

    She adjusted the hem of her short dress before turning around and facing her crew. They all seemed to be doing something. Except for¡­

    ¡°Milton, you pick up that mop and swab that deck like you¡¯ve never swabbed before, or I¡¯ll throw you overboard!¡± Rin glared at the boy before grabbing hold of the rigging on the forward mast and starting to climb. Surely they¡¯d be coming up on their destination soon. The Western Isles weren¡¯t as far out as everyone said they were, only about a week¡¯s hard sailing from the mainland. Most could make it on smooth water in a week and a half with no stops. From the Spires, Slantspire being the topmost of the five, a regular ship could make the voyage in four or five days. She could do it in three. And she intended to do exactly that. Prisoners were a drain on the food supply, something dangerous for a crew that didn¡¯t have a place to regularly restock. Already McKinley¡¯s food reserves were being called into use. Maybe he wasn¡¯t as dull as she sometimes thought.

    Luckily, the winds were in her favor, blowing east from the Barrier Mountains into the west and the Unaligned Territories. Maybe she could even coax a few extra knots of speed out of the Luxury and arrive midday. Rin reached the morningcrow¡¯s nest and hauled herself up onto the platform. The Luxury was by no means a cheap ship, but some things just weren¡¯t necessary. Like a railing on the morningcrow¡¯s nest. If someone didn¡¯t hang on and fell off, they¡¯d have the sense to push off and land in the water, where someone could haul their embarrassed soul back up. If they didn¡¯t have that sense, well, a stupid mariner didn¡¯t benefit her. Unfortunately those were more and more common these days.

    Rin pulled out a spyglass and spiraled it out into position. She didn¡¯t bother to hold onto the rigging; if she fell, her reflexes were good enough that she could catch herself before her feet left the platform. And if she missed that, she could always catch the rest of the rigging. She¡¯d done it before. It had dislocated her shoulder and forced her to rest for a few days to heal, but she¡¯d done it. And she¡¯d do it again before she fell in the water and had to be pulled up soaking wet. Having thin clothes worked well when warm sea air blew around her, but they were kind of terrible when they got wet.

    A mass of land grew from the horizon, a dark tower on its coast. Those were the Isles all right. Rin cleared her throat. ¡°Land! Land on the horizon!¡±

    Faint cheers rose from below before the crew returned to their work. Rin stowed her spyglass and grabbed hold of the rigging, swinging back under the morningcrow¡¯s nest and scuttling like a crustacean down to the deck. She pulled a timepiece from her pocket and clicked it open. One of the needles pointed north, currently to the right as it should be. The others indicated the time. Sixteen hundred, right smack in the middle of the afternoon. The perfect time for a drink.. She walked over to the bell next to the staircase down into the hold of the ship and pulled hard on the rope. ¡°Alright, you moonless. Get up on the deck and relieve these tired sailors. And you¡­¡±  She pointed to those already on the deck. ¡°Keep it to one mug for now. We¡¯ll be in the bay by midnight, and I don¡¯t need half my crew passed out.¡± There was a collective groan on deck. ¡°Quiet down. I¡¯ll join you there once we¡¯re shipshape with the next shift.¡± That elicited a little excitement. The kaptain was known for doing some wild things after a mug or two. Secretly, most of the stories were of her own design.

    The first mate walked over as the sailors switched out and shuffled down into the hold. ¡°You sure that¡¯s a good idea? We¡¯ve only got on a little less than a shift between us and landfall. We¡¯ll need our kaptain for that.¡±

    Rin elbowed the large man. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me. I¡¯ll be fine by the time we land.¡± She turned to the stairs. ¡°In the meantime, I¡¯m going to go have a toast. Hold down the deck and don¡¯t let it float away while I¡¯m gone.¡± Rin sauntered over to the stairs and slid down the spiraled railing to the common area. Most of the previous shift was already seated with mugs of frothing drink, although it seemed that none of them had taken a sip yet.

    The kaptain raised her arms and grinned. ¡°Drink up, mariners!¡± She pulled a mug from the bar table and took a long whiff. The rum didn¡¯t have much of a taste, but it was certainly strong. She raised her mug in the air. ¡°A toast! To the straits and seas we sail, and to the ships that traverse them!¡±

    ¡°Hear hear.¡± The tall bald man in the corner raised his mug, followed quickly by the rest. Rin took a sip of the froth on the top of her mug, an idea forming in her mind.

    ¡°Hey Keep, you still have those shot glasses?¡± The man looked back in his cabinet and nodded. ¡°Pull ¡®em out.¡± Rin turned to the crowd of sailors. ¡°You moonless want to have some fun?¡± They nodded in affirmation, pounding their fists on the bartop or on a nearby stool. The barkeep set the shot glasses out. Rin pushed them all together and dumped her mug into the first, moving down the line in quick succession. Only a few drops ended up on the bartop. She turned to the crowd of raiders. ¡°Alright, for those of you new here, I¡¯m not down here associating with the rank and file most days. But sometimes I need to drink with other people. Which is where you louts come in.¡± She raised the first shot glass and drained it, the rough liquid burning like a coarse rope. ¡°Raise your mugs and celebrate! This is the life! And there is none better!¡± She threw back a second glass. Her eyes saw as straight and true as ever, but this was the point where she usually laid the speech on a little thick. Placing one foot on the stool next to her, she raised the next glass into the air. ¡°Trent would love this.¡± She drank the next shot.

    ¡°Who¡¯s Trent?¡± The raider in the back banged his mug down.

    Rin raised a hand to point at the raider, intentionally missing the mark and swinging back. ¡°Ah, you¡¯re tryin¡¯ to get me to talk about myself. Won¡¯t work. But I¡¯ll tell ya anyway.¡± She downed another shot. Three more to go. ¡°Good old noble to everyone, ¡®cept when he was doin¡¯ things he wasn¡¯t supposed to. Then he didn¡¯t have that nice look in his eyes.¡± Rin pantomimed grabbing her sabre from her back, missing the actual weapon and holding thin air while she thrust at nothing in particular in front of her. ¡°He tried to cross me an¡¯ sell me off. Ran him through and took his coin for his trouble.¡± Third to last glass, up and in. She pushed herself up and sat on the bartop, hanging her legs over the edge. Absentmindedly, she rubbed her eyes. That wasn¡¯t an act. She could use a few hours of sleep before landfall.

    ¡°Now gather ¡®round and pipe down. Few knew this tale when it came into the world, and fewer still know it now.¡± The raiders quieted and sat down, most of them on the floor. A few of them still slurped on their rum. ¡°Long ago and far from here, there was a ship as black as night with sails the color of blood. No one knows if they were just always that color or if the captain stained them with the blood of his enemies. But rumor had it that his metal finger had more to it than met the eye.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    One of the younger raiders raised his mug and started to ask the man¡¯s name, but another raider lifted his empty mug and clonked the other on the head. ¡°Shut yer mouth. I want to listen.¡± Rin grinned at the older raider. At least she held some respect.

    ¡°This kaptain had a penchant for the rarest of treasures, the ones nobody else would dare try to reach. He had pearls from the biggest clams of Montal Bay and the scepter of the Queen of the Mermaids from the palaces below. These made him feared, but he couldn¡¯t very well sell them off lest the world think he was going soft. No, he needed a trove of coin and gem to buy those things a kaptain needs. And one day, he learned where to get it.¡±

    Rin placed her hands on the bartop and leaned forward, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ¡°A woman descended from the heavens as if by an invisible thread. She handed him a parchment made of the night itself, telling him to sail true and he would have what he desired. The kaptain awoke the next morning and drafted the rest of the sailors he needed before setting sail. If the map was written in truth, he¡¯d reach the island in two weeks.¡± She threw back the second-to-last shot glass. Better hold off on the last one while she still had to remember the details of the story.

    ¡°Two days before the island, a terrible storm arose and rocked the ship from side to side. With each toss and turn, the sailors moaned and wept at their terrible luck. But the kaptain remained fixed on his prize. He pulled a star from the sky and fired it up into the storm from the cannon on the deck. The clouds burned away, and the tops of the sails were bleached white. But the ship continued on. They sighted land right on schedule. With a clear sky and smooth waters, the kaptain climbed into a skirtbow and declared that when he returned, he would have treasure enough for all who had sailed the voyage. He took his first mate with him, along with three raiders who had proved their worth and skill on the straits. They sailed to the island¡¯s beaches and disappeared into the dark rocks that littered the landscape.¡±

    ¡°Deep in the caves of the island and pool of glittering water stood absolutely still, smooth as a looking glass, a man¡¯s height in diameter. The kaptain stared into it and declared that the treasure was just below the surface. One of the raiders dived for the pool, greed overwhelming his common sense. He sank below the water¡¯s surface and never resurfaced.¡±

    ¡°Just like that? Gone?¡±

    Rin nodded solemnly. ¡°Just like that. But as he sank, the cavern filled with light, the very same color as the glint off a sea-shined coin. The light built until none of the raiders could see anything, flashing as bright as a thousand moons before dimming away. When the raiders opened their eyes, the cavern was filled with piles of coin and chests full of cut gemstones. The raiders fell down and grabbed handfuls of the riches, crying for joy. The kaptain threw his hat and dived into a pile of coin taller than any of us here.¡±

    The raiders¡¯ eyes were fixed on Rin, the same familiar gleam of coin-light reflected in them. Something shivered deep inside her, although it didn¡¯t show on her face. She reached down and raised the last shot glass. One more. She threw it back, slamming it down on the bartop so hard it was a wonder it didn¡¯t crack and shatter. Now it was time for the theatrics. This part of the story was most suited for them anyway.

    ¡°One raider stood on the side of the cavern, her sense of survival warning her not to indulge like her kaptain had. And so she faded from view as the others let their greed rule. Each knew that the others would kill in order to take the treasure for themselves. They stood up and drew their weapons, sabres and cutlasses glinting like the treasure. The first sailor was easily dispatched, knowing much of sailing but little of swordplay. Then the kaptain and the first mate turned on each other and let their darksteel meet. No negotiations could suffice; the other had to die.¡±

    ¡°The lone sailor watched as the kaptain and his right-hand woman clashed, each one wearing out as slow as the tide comes in. Finally, each one disengaged and retreated to opposite halves of the cavern. They determined to kill the other in their sleep, but the spells of the cavern left them both asleep before anything else could be done. There was no doubt that they would remain here and fight to the death, whatever would be presented to them. Even then, the winner should never be allowed to go free again in such a coin-blinded state. The girl crept forward over the mountains of coin and stole the items she knew would prove to the crew that the kaptain and the first mate weren¡¯t going to return: the kaptain¡¯s hat and the first mate¡¯s necklace.¡±

    Rin reached under the bar and procured two items she¡¯d placed there before her excursion on the deck. The right stories had to have the right props at the right times in order to have the right effect. In her left hand she held a black tri-cornered hat with a blue feather next to a black one. In her right hand, a necklace with a heavy blue stone in a teardrop shape. She lowered her voice even further, to the point where the raiders had to lean closer in order to hear the final part of the tale.

    ¡°The girl returned to the ship, hat on her head and necklace around her own neck. In her hand she held the kaptain¡¯s darksteel sabre, traded for hers of common steel. She climbed out of the caves and through the black rocks, back to the skirtbow. On her own, she rowed back to the night-black ship with the star-bleached maroon sails. They hoisted her boat up, and the crew parted for her as she strode along the deck. Holding the sabre aloft, she declared herself kaptain of the vessel and commanded that they make haste away from the accursed island.¡± Rin raised the hat and necklace in her hands. ¡°Here are the hat and necklace of the kaptain and first mate. They perished in that cave, or so I know. I was that girl, forced to take command of the Sea Dragon before my given time.¡± She placed the hat on her head, straightening it so the feathers were to the right and the point forward, and clasped the necklace around her neck.

    The young raider from before started lightly clapping before being hit on the head again. ¡°That ain¡¯t the end, numbskull.¡±

    Rin drew her sabre, for real this time, pointing it to the right towards the stern of the Luxury. ¡°Alas, my command was not accepted by all. Before we had gotten far, the cook decided to stage a coup and seize command of the Sea Dragon, intent on returning to the island and claiming the treasure for himself. Even without the magic, the tales of the treasure had captured his heart. In the chaos, the wheel of the ship was left unattended as I dueled the cook with the navigator at my back. The Sea Dragon dashed herself upon a reef close to the island, perhaps the final revenge for thinking we could steal away the treasures contained within. The hull split in two, taking the cook and the navigator with her as she sunk into the deep. I untied the skirtbow that had ferried me from the island and managed to escape the wreck, fighting hard with the paddles to take me away. I had but the water in my canteen and sticks of dried meat that I had thought to take with me on the island. I rowed my way until I could row no more before making a sail of my jacket and commending myself to whatever god or goddess roamed the skies above the seas. I landed at Fort Percival with only the clothes on my back and the coin in my pocket. No home, no destination. Just a longing for the seas and a warning of the dangerous waters beyond the map.¡± Rin sheathed her sabre. ¡°Tie my heart and toss it overboard, but that¡¯s the truth.¡±

    The hold had gone absolutely silent, staring at the kaptain as she lowered her hands and tipped the last few drops from her mug into a shot glass. She finished off her drink and winked at her captive crowd. ¡°Alright, enough of that. It¡¯s not as if I¡¯ve got blue hair.¡± She hopped off the bartop. ¡°Finish your drinks and sleep it off. I¡¯ll be in m¡¯ office if anyone dies.¡±

    Rin opened the door next to the stairs and exited the main hold, stumbling into the hallways of the ship. Between the fatigue and the rum, she¡¯d better actually sleep before landfall.

    Most kaptains had their office and quarters up on the deck of the ship, in full view. That made them an easy target. Besides, Rin didn¡¯t need a large office if she never had a reason to be in it. No, she just needed a small office with a desk for writing and a bed for sleeping, the bare minimum for a room that only saw a tiny fraction of her time. Even better that it was right smack in the middle of the decks. She could sleep through a hurricane if she needed to.

    She procured a silver key and let herself into the room, only a few meters across. On a ship as big and fine as the Luxury, quite a few of the officers could afford to have rooms all to themselves. In fact, when the ship had been built, the architects had probably assumed this would be a small reserves closet or a third-rank officer¡¯s room. But it suited her just fine. Locking the door behind her, Rin pulled off her dress and fell onto her bed. Someone--probably the first officer--would come find her when they were about to land. Until then, she needed as much sleep as she could get.

 Chapter XII

    The girl stared out on the city below, a beige-and-white shawl wrapped around her. Something about the city--the capital of a great empire, she¡¯d been told--seemed familiar. Perhaps she¡¯d seen somewhere like it in the past? She¡¯d been slowly remembering words and their meanings, but nothing to hint as to where she came from. There was a feeling of coldness inside, like a heat had used to reside there was no longer present. Something was missing, something important. Not just her memories, but who she was. What had she thought about before? What had she obsessed over? People were such a mystery to her.

    A name had come to her mind a few days ago as she sat pondering over her existence. She had no clue if it was her name, or the name of a friend or foe. Perhaps it had no meaning to her and she had simply thought it up because she had wanted something to hold onto and make her own when nothing else seemed to be. And from what they¡¯d told her, it was a fairly common name in the land down by the sea in the middle of the city, as well as on the Spires. Wherever those were. But Kima had a nice ring to it, at least in her opinion. And if it really was so common, maybe it would help her connect with people and fit in. Of all things, she wanted to fit in.

    The girl froze. The thought had entered unbidden into her mind, but now that she had thought it she was sure it was true. Somewhere in her previous life, as she thought of it, she¡¯d wanted more than anything to have someone else understand her. To feel as though she belonged with another completely. This had been odd, but she¡¯d wanted it all the same.

    Something new to add to her blank slate. This time around, whatever it took, she¡¯d make sure she fit in. Perhaps she would come to see this blankness as a gift.

    The girl--Kima, as she decided to call herself--looked over the capital city again. Honored Mikhel and Honored Aina were wise, but they could not teach her much beyond the villages and life of the mountains. She would learn what she could and thank them profusely, but in time she would have to leave and seek someplace in the city for learning. Surely there was somewhere she could go to have people teach her how things worked. She longed to fill her mind with more than blank space. To think thoughts that had some meaning, to dream up something of worth. That was also something she desired. Although that seemed new, a want that came of necessity after she¡¯d forgotten.

    Kima settled her arms on her knees, placing her chin on top and pulling the shawl closer around her. Somewhere, there was a purpose in life. Maybe even a purpose specifically for her? She was the only person that could know the answer to that. And right now, she had no clue.

    Charity led the way back to the pulleys, beckoning to Ambrose. ¡°Since you¡¯re a full Engineer now, you¡¯ll need a new uniform. That one you¡¯re wearing is probably still new enough that it could be reused for the next recruit. The quartermaster should be able to get you one.¡±

    No handle waited in the shafts to take them back up. Charity stuck her head in a shaft and looked up before banging the metal device on her right wrist seven times against the metal rope on the edge of the shaft. She turned to him and pointed to the rope. ¡°Since you don¡¯t have weeks to learn everything around here on your own, stick with me for at least a few days and I¡¯ll give you the crash course. This is how you summon a handle of the pulleys. Bang, don¡¯t tap your chrono against this rope. This is the lowest level that the pulleys reach, so the code for it is seven hits. It goes up from here, Q4 being six, Q3 being five and so on. The rope rings a bell up at the top in the pulley office, and they¡¯ll get you up as soon as they can. I¡¯ve been up there once or twice, and they¡¯re really nice people.¡±

    ¡°I think I get it. But if this is the lowest floor, why does the shaft keep going down?¡±

    Charity glanced down. ¡°If you ask the older Engineers, they¡¯ll say it keeps going down forever. In reality, there¡¯s some sort of cushion down there in case you lose your grip on your handle and fall. I¡¯ve never seen it because I¡¯ve never fallen, but I trust that it¡¯s there.¡±

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll just plan on not falling.¡±

    ¡°Good plan.¡± A handle dropped into view, and Charity set it to the ¡®I¡¯ before clicking the button on the back again. ¡°Oh, and this button sends the handle directly back to your previous floor when you step off. Don¡¯t press it otherwise, because it creates a real holdup when the handles go places where they don¡¯t have to.¡± She stepped into the shaft and was whisked upward. A minute later, the handle popped back into view. Ambrose grabbed hold and stepped into the oblivion, feeling the thrill of speed as he flew upward. The lights of the quarter floors came and went, glowing up to brightness and then dimming again after they flashed by. Finally the pulleys brought him to a stop on the invention floor. He stepped off and joined Charity, who turned immediately to the right and through a door.

    ¡°Many of the administrative offices are down here, as well as everything useful. There are metal-etched maps every so often, but they¡¯re hard to make well and you¡¯ll get the hang of it after you¡¯re down here for a while. You shouldn¡¯t have to be up in Honor Cavern unless someone really important calls you in.¡±

    The hallways beyond the invention floor weren¡¯t as nicely decorated, but the lighting was adequate and the edges were covered by enough panelling to make it seem finished. Charity directed him down the left passage. Not too far that way was a bigger cavern, this one lined with tables and chairs. ¡°There¡¯s the dining cavern. Don¡¯t worry about that for now. You can come back and get breakfast or lunch or whatever in a little bit. The quartermaster¡¯s office is only a little further down.¡±

    The office turned out to be a lot larger than Ambrose had thought it would be. It was less an office and more a small storage area, racks of jumpsuits and goggles filling a space twice as tall as the average person. A sliding overhead door was currently open, revealing a portly man with bushy sideburns cross-referencing two lists at the desk near the entrance. He didn¡¯t notice the two Engineers as they walked in. Charity cleared her throat and tapped on the edge of the desk. The quartermaster looked up from the papers briefly before going back to his work.

    ¡°I told ye already, I cannae give ye another set. I don¡¯t care how badly ye cut or burned ¡®em this time, I have too much t¡¯ do  here.¡±

    Charity looked at Ambrose and turned a little red. ¡°Just forget about that, okay?¡± She turned to the quartermaster. ¡°They¡¯re not for me, sir. They¡¯re for him.¡± The man looked up again, scrutinizing both of them.

    ¡°Another one? I swear I just had a group in here fer uniforms not two weeks ago.¡±

    ¡°He just started.¡±

    ¡°And he already needs a new uniform? What¡¯d he do, take a stroll behind Ahlstrom¡¯s station?¡± The quartermaster chuckled at his own joke.

    ¡°Oh, sorry. I meant an Engineer¡¯s uniform. He¡¯s not a trainee in that sense anymore.¡±

    The man¡¯s eyes widened a little. ¡°Oh, y¡¯mean Iike that. I see, I see. Ye should¡¯ve led with that, ye know.¡± He turned to the stacks. ¡°I¡¯m sure I¡¯ve got something here that¡¯ll fit ye.¡± The quartermaster disappeared behind a stack of crates.

    Ambrose looked at Charity. ¡°So what¡¯s this about needing a new uniform?¡±

    The redness returned to her cheeks. ¡°I made some dull mistakes. I¡¯m still figuring it out, but it¡¯ll be fine. ¡°Forget I said anything.¡±

    ¡°Alright. Just make sure I don¡¯t make the same ones.¡±

    The quartermaster popped back out from the crates, a jumpsuit in his hands. ¡°See? I told ye I had something.¡± He tottered back over to the desk and handed them to Ambrose before flipping a paper around and pointed to it. ¡°Just sign here. I try to keep track of when ye get a uniform so I know about when ye need a new one.¡± He looked at Charity. ¡°And when yer not due for another one yet.¡± His eyes dropped back to Ambrose, who was signing the paper with a charcoal pencil. ¡°Course, if something really does happen, ye can rest assured knowing I try to accommodate.¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    Ambrose finished signing the paper and stood up straight, unfolding the jumpsuit. It was grey and long, probably a little too long. He¡¯d grow into it. A khaki vest fell out, landing on his foot. He picked it up and turned it around. It bore a single copper stripe along the back, along with a few pockets. In fact, the whole thing had pockets and loops all over it. He¡¯d have to come up with a filing system just to remember where he put everything.

    The quartermaster grabbed a pair of goggles off his desk and tapped one of the lenses. ¡°Make sure ye keep these on ye. Engineering is pretty interesting, but it¡¯s rarely safe. In fact, for ye, I¡¯d say the more interesting it is, the less safe.¡±

    Ambrose nodded to the quartermaster, touching his head to make sure his goggles hadn¡¯t already gotten lost. ¡°I¡¯ll do my best.¡±

    ¡°Good. Now get outta my sight. I¡¯ve got many things left to do. Best of luck and whatever else.¡± He sat back down and replaced the goggles on the desk before picking up a cataloguing sheet and a pencil. As they walked out, Charity pulled a shoulder bag from a rack and tossed it to Ambrose. ¡°You¡¯ll want this.¡± He stuffed his new uniform in the bag and clasped the cover shut.

    The two Engineers walked to the dining chamber before Charity came to a halt. ¡°Alright, go eat. You¡¯re probably starving after last night. I know Peace a little too well. Get some grub and meet me back in our room on the invention floor when you¡¯re done. I¡¯ll grab your manual and your chrono and the rest of your things. You¡¯ll start actually learning soon. In the meantime, go meet some people. There might be a few like you.¡±

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll see you up there then.¡± Ambrose turned into the dining area and looked around. The tables were set up parallel with a wall that had different tables of food by it. But there was no one to serve the food. Did people just come and eat what they wanted? Charity must have just assumed he¡¯d figure it out.

    He grabbed a tray from the leftmost table and looked down the line. Only two Engineers were getting food. But there were so many different options! The closest one looked like flatbread with some sort of oily sauce. It smelled like nothing he¡¯d ever had before, herbs clashing in just the right way. He decided to try that option for now and work his way down with each meal. He¡¯d have plenty of time down here, so he didn¡¯t need to rush through the food. It was a little hard to walk past all the aromas, but he managed to make it without stopping for anything else. He did grab a palefruit from the basket on one of the last tables to add to his meal. He might as well try to be sort of balanced in what he ate. That¡¯s what his mother would have told him to do. Besides, he didn¡¯t know what some of the other fruits were, and he didn¡¯t want to take something he¡¯d end up not eating. Maybe Charity could explain some of them to him at a later time.

    An ornate spigot stuck out from the wall at the end of the tables, a tarnished gear connected to the side. Ambrose unscrewed the canteen on his belt and held it up to the nozzle before turning the gear. The water gradually trickled out, slow enough that he didn¡¯t spill a single drop. After the canteen was full, he twisted the gear back and capped the canteen. That should be enough to last him until the next time he came down to eat.

    The dining chamber only had a few Engineers sitting around eating, and most of them looked like they were trying to set a record for the fastest time to eat a meal. He assumed those ones had been up too late the night before and overslept. But a group in the middle of the empty tables near the corridor seemed to be taking their time. There were only four of them, but that difference made Ambrose think they were the ones Charity had told him to look for. He skirted around the edge of the tables before walking up to the part of the long table where they sat. The two closest to him, a boy with dark skin and a girl with cropped hair and a colorful bracelet around her wrist, looked up. The boy nudged the girl beside him. ¡°Lydia, looks like there¡¯s another one.¡±

    The girl--Lydia--looked up at Ambrose, a quizzical expression on her face. ¡°Where¡¯d you come from, stranger?¡±

    ¡°Hillcrest. A little ways from here.¡± He pointed to the table. ¡°Do you mind?¡±

    The boy smiled. ¡°Nah, go ahead. There¡¯s not enough of us as it is.¡± He raised his hand in greeting. ¡°My name¡¯s Fitz.¡±

    Ambrose raised his hand and pressed their palms together. ¡°Ambrose.¡±

    Fitz pulled his hand back. ¡°Woah! What was that?¡± He looked over at Ambrose. ¡°You¡¯re a trainee, right?¡±

    The girl with the bracelet rolled her eyes. ¡°What does he look like, dulleyes? If he were an Engineer, he¡¯d be rushing to get to work instead of sitting here.¡±

    Fitz rolled his eyes back. ¡°I can see that. But you try it and see how you feel.¡±

    The girl raised her palm. ¡°I guess this is meant to be a greeting, so hi. My name¡¯s Annika. And you¡¯re Ambrose.¡±

    Ambrose raised his hand again and connected their palms. Annika jerked back like something had bitten her. ¡°Okay, I stand corrected. My apologies, Honored Engineer.¡±

    Ambrose shook his head. ¡°Don¡¯t say that. It doesn¡¯t sound right.¡±

    Annika frowned. What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve only been an Engineer for a little while. Not even a full day.¡±

    She blinked. ¡°Okay, let me get this straight. You¡¯ve been here not very long, definitely not for longer than two weeks, because they told us we were the only ones. And you¡¯re already a full-fledged Engineer?¡±

    Ambrose nodded. ¡°I started today.¡±

    ¡°Today?¡± Annika shook her head. ¡°Give me time to process all of this.¡± She waved her hand at the others. ¡°Talk to them.¡±

    ¡°Okay?¡± Ambrose turned to the other two sitting at the table. He raised his left hand around Fitz¡¯s back. ¡°Lydia, right?¡±

    The girl nodded, swiping aside her long chestnut hair. There was a braid running along the side, a white ribbon woven into it. She met his palm with hers and nodded. ¡°Good to meet you, Ambrose.¡± She pointed across the table at the fourth member of the group, a boy who was quietly chipping away at his food. ¡°This is Dain. He¡¯s not really one for talking.¡± Dain looked up briefly and nodded at Ambrose before returning to staring at his food.

    ¡°So what exactly do you do around here? There doesn¡¯t seem to be much open space or time.¡± Ambrose picked up the flatbread and swirled it around in the sauce before taking a bite. It was the best thing he¡¯d ever tasted, short of his mother¡¯s hardnut and berry pie that she baked every year for his birthday.

    ¡°Well, we got here about two weeks ago. Since then, it¡¯s been mainly theory lessons with our mentors and trips to the Pillar. I guess there was a day somewhere in the middle where most of the Engineers weren¡¯t working, so they had a sort of game day down here in this space. But none of us understood the games and nobody felt like asking, so we just sat in Fitz¡¯s room and talked.¡±

    ¡°Huh. I guess that makes sense.¡± Ambrose took another bite of the flatbread. ¡°How¡¯s life down here in general? I feel like there¡¯s a lot of things I already miss about the surface¡­¡±

    Lydia shushed him. ¡°That¡¯s one thing you¡¯ll learn soon down here. They don¡¯t really like us to talk about the surface. I mean, it comes up, but they want us to focus on life down here. Honestly, it makes sense. Why try to get back what you had when there¡¯s so much to learn and do down here?¡±

    ¡°Oh. I see. I just thought that maybe I¡¯d get to go back up in a few weeks and meet up with my family and a few others. Maybe just one.¡±

    Fitz looked over at him. ¡°Did you have a girl up there?¡±

    Ambrose turned a little red. ¡°Is it that obvious?¡±

    Fitz nodded. ¡°Yep. And if she knows what¡¯s good for her, she¡¯ll find someone new.¡± He saw the look on Ambrose¡¯s face. ¡°Sorry, man, but it¡¯s for the best. You want her to be happy, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I guess so. It¡¯s gonna be hard though.¡±

    Fitz patted him on the shoulder. ¡°I know. Annika had someone too.¡±

    ¡°Hey. Leave me out of this.¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay. Fine. I¡¯m just saying you¡¯re not the only one. And it¡¯ll be better this way.¡± Fitz leaned in like he was going to tell Ambrose a secret. ¡°We¡¯re different, down here. We have something, something not everyone up there has. That¡¯s another thing they¡¯ll tell you. You¡¯re meant for something greater than you thought before. I¡¯m sure that girl, whoever she is, will find a way to be happy up there with someone like her. You, though. You¡¯re gonna go places.¡±

    Ambrose had a lot of thoughts run through his head, but he shoved them away. He wanted these people to like him. Besides, they were probably right. ¡°I guess I¡¯ll have to see where this all goes. She wasn¡¯t ever really mine anyways.¡±

    ¡°There you go. You¡¯ve got us now.¡± Fitz looked around the table. ¡°Well, you¡¯ve got me at least.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± Ambrose looked down at his food. It was mostly gone, but the act reminded him of Charity¡¯s words. ¡°Oh, sorry, I need to be back up on the invention floor soon. My mentor said she¡¯d have some more things for me.¡±

    Lydia looked up from her food. ¡°Well, I guess you¡¯ll see us around. Maybe.¡±

    Fitz grinned. ¡°You¡¯ll definitely see us. We¡¯re pretty easy to find. Just listen for Annika tripping over things.¡±

    ¡°That was one time!¡±

    Ambrose laughed before getting up and picking up his tray. ¡°Alright. Sounds good to me. Maybe I¡¯ll even see you tonight.¡±

    ¡°See you later, Engineer.¡± Annika raised a fork in farewell.

    Ambrose walked over to the table near the corridor and stacked his tray on top of the two or three that were already there. Now, back up to the invention floor. The day wasn¡¯t over yet.

 Chapter XIII

    Shelter looked down at the table where the Ministers were assembled. He¡¯d called the emergency meeting a full week after the Head Engineer had gone missing. Perhaps someone else knew differently, but they couldn¡¯t keep going like this if they didn¡¯t know where she¡¯d gone.

    He looked down at the podium he stood by, papers strewn about around a book. ¡°Minister, your suggestions, please.¡±

    The Minister of Truth picked up a paper of her own. ¡°I propose a plan in two parts. First, we need a small team to look around here in the caverns to see if Dignity left clues as to where she went. At this point, I haven¡¯t ruled out the possibility that this was a kidnapping either.¡±

    Shelter nodded. ¡°And the second part?¡±

    ¡°We need a larger task force, something on the scale of forty or so Engineers, up on the surface. If she left any clues up there, each day we wait is another day they have to fade away.¡±

    ¡°I see. How would this work with our existing Sentries? Are we going to relax protocol about having to go with an armed person when topside?¡±

    The Minister of Truth nodded. ¡°I don¡¯t like it any more than you do. But the contingents already on the surface need to stay where they are, especially because I¡¯ve heard reports that bandit activity is increasing. And those in the low cavern need to stay where they are. We can rush along some of the newer recruits and press them into service a little before they¡¯re ready, but even that won¡¯t get us to the numbers we need. We¡¯ll likely have to do that anyway.¡±

    Shelter rubbed his eyes. ¡°Very well. As Head of the Council of Engineers, I officially, but temporarily, lift the topside armed escort policy. Let¡¯s hope I can reinstate it soon.¡±

    ¡°Indeed.¡± The Minister of Finance tapped a charcoal pencil on the edge of the table. ¡°Is that all we must do there?¡±

    ¡°For now, yes. Assemble your internal team and get them to work. Start on the topside task force, but wait for my approval before heading up. At the very least, I want to arm those without an escort.¡± Shelter glanced down at his papers. ¡°Objections and addendums? No? Very well. Then we shall move to the more difficult portion of this meeting. Until such time as the Head Engineer reappears and is able to serve in her position¡¯s capacity as a leader, we will need to appoint an interim Head Engineer. This is not a decision I take lightly, but please feel free to suggest whomever you feel is most qualified for the role.¡±

    ¡°Mercy. Third Corps.¡± The Minister of Finance rubbed his thin mustache.

    The Minister of Surface Affairs raised a finger. ¡°Chance, Fourth Corps.¡±

    Both were decent options and would do the job well. Shelter worried about consistency and motivation, but if they got the job done, he didn¡¯t really have room to worry.

    Joy, the Minister of Maintenance, cleared her throat. ¡°Light, First Corps.¡± That caught his attention. He knew Light well enough to know that she wouldn¡¯t agree to the position. At least, not without a lot of convincing from the right person. But she was high-ranked and very good at her job as floor coordinator. He¡¯d have to try his best. Or get someone more persuasive.

    ¡°No other candidates?¡± He wrote down the three names on a loose sheet of paper. ¡°Very well. I shall review these Engineers and select the one I believe is most qualified. Expect a decision within the week.¡± Shelter looked around the table. ¡°Are there any other issues or comments that need to be brought before the Council?¡± Silence reigned. ¡°Excellent. I declare this meeting adjourned. Minister, start building your forces.¡± The Minister of Truth nodded before standing up and exiting the room. An aide scuttled in after her and stacked her paper nicely on top of the book at her place. The other Ministers were standing and straightening their own places, trickling out the door until only Shelter was left in the Council Room.

    He crossed to the door and leaned out into the hallway. As usual, a solitary Sentry stood at the door.

    ¡°Morgan?¡± The woman turned her head slightly in his direction and nodded. ¡°Keep the room empty until I tell you otherwise.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir.¡± She turned back to her previous stance and stared straight ahead.

    Shelter closed the door in front of him and turned to the now-empty Council table. No one would admit it, but they were just hanging on. Something needed to change. Perhaps a new Head Engineer wouldn¡¯t be a bad idea.

    He walked past the table and the podium, pressing his fingertips to a metal petal on the back wall. The panel swung out and away, revealing a pulley alcove. He grabbed onto the worn handle, fingers assuming their normal positions despite the lack of controls. One step and he hurtled downward faster than any other pulley system. The six other levels passed, the Pillar last of all. He could feel it as he passed, including a new vital, something brighter than the others. He¡¯d have to look into that when he came back up.

    The pulley handle finally started to slow after another minute of dropping, a faint blue light reflecting up the shaft. Shelter crouched slightly as he hit the floor, letting go of the handle and stepping out of the way by habit.

    The cavern in front of him had seen the least adjustment from the Engineers, staying in its natural beauty. Great stalactites hung from the ceiling like spears and monstrous stalagmites jutted up like teeth. The whole chamber looked to be easily the size of Honor Cavern and the Pillar Chamber combined, probably bigger. Mountains of gold and silver rested all around the chamber, often ringing stalagmites. A large flat path had been dug out from the piles. Here and there among the rocks and piles, blue crystal formations shot up and branched out.

    Fine pieces of worked copper and copper coins also littered the cavern, still in its pristine new state. Magic could do odd things when left undirected. And the chamber¡¯s inhabitant definitely had some magic.

    A gargantuan dragon curled up in the center of the chamber, tail tucked around its scaly body and head resting on a pile of coins like a soft pillow. Each and every scale on its hide glowed with an inner light, with a smooth head covered only by a few patches of scales. Its claws looked like they had been dipped in molten silver and allowed to cool.

    Although it looked to be sleeping, Shelter knew it could sense him. Not much else moved down in these caverns.

    Come closer, Council Leader. The words tapped on his mind gently, not intruding but draping themself in such a way that they could not  be mistaken.

    ¡°I am sorry to disturb your rest, Honored One. I come with a worried petition.¡±

    Be at peace. You are wise to come to me on a matter like this. The dragon¡¯s eyes opened wide, staring right at him. Shelter felt as though they could see into his soul and out the other side. He bowed low, holding the position until the tip of the dragon¡¯s tail raised him gently.

    ¡°I find myself at a loss, Honored Kiyora. Our leader has left us with no idea of how to move forward or when she plans to return, if she plans to do so at all.¡±

    You are indeed in the dark, so to speak. Patience has served you well. But, as you have determined, now is the time for action. However, you must act in peace and with a clear mind if you are going to uncover the truth.

    ¡°Sometimes I wonder if we have the right idea, placing so much power on one person. What happens if they rust and take everyone with them?¡±

    That is a distinct possibility for what is happening here.

    ¡°Esteemed Kiyora, may I make a request?¡±A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    Yes, Shelter. You may.

    ¡°I would like to petition the goddess for wisdom. I fear that we do not currently possess the eyes to see and the minds to comprehend this.¡± He looked the dragon straight in the eye closest to him, holding his hand in front of him. His every instinct told him to flee, but he remained still.

    I will grant your request, on the condition that you share the information you receive with no one until I shall  give you permission to do so.

    ¡°Of course, honorable dragon.¡±

    Kiyora closed her eyes and rose, shaking off the coins that had stuck in her scales. She looked toward the ceiling and started humming a note so beautiful that Shelter felt sure he would never find its equal if he searched for his whole life. Her scales glowed brighter and brighter, until he had to turn his head and close his eyes. The ringing note filled the cavern, shimmering in the clear cool air.

    With a flash, the lighted scales cooled back to their original levels, and the dragon sank back down to her original position.

    The goddess seems¡­ unsure how to help you. A shiver ran up Shelter¡¯s spine, like a cave spider digging its legs into him. If the very goddess herself, the most powerful being to exist, was unsure, what hope did he have of knowing what to do?

    Peace, Shelter. Consider this a test, if you will. Seek knowledge and order, and aid will come. For now, she leaves a few words for you.

    ¡°I am listening, honorable dragon.¡±

    The Head Engineer has left of her own accord, taking several Engineers with her. They are all from the low cavern and will not be discovered missing for a few days. She and her force have left this side of the mountains.

    The shivers in his spine returned. ¡°You mean she went over the mountains? Back to the empire?¡±

    Those are the words I was given. She also reminds you to watch for one among the young who will rise up and lead the Engineers.

    ¡°Respect, but how old are those prophetic words? I¡¯m starting to wonder if they will be fulfilled in my lifetime.¡±

    Twice will they come to pass. You must watch and wait for that day if you wish to aid them.

    Shelter bowed low. ¡°I thank the goddess for her wisdom.¡±

    You are wise, Council Leader. That will take you far. But listen carefully for others who seek to succeed. It is often their wisdom that will take you farther. Kiyora shifted her massive body, curled her tail in, and laid back down on the coins. After the coins finished settling, all was still. Shelter retreated to the alcove where the pulley handle waited. One tug and he was lifted from the soft blue light back up towards the real world. It seemed that conversing with the dragon had given him more questions than it had answered.

    Aina crossed her needles again, looping the yarn around and over. Kima watched from the corner, taking occasional glances at the map in her hand. The whole land was laid out before her, the five Spires on their islands and the Western Isles on the far left. Aina had taken a pencil and marked where they were, almost right in the middle of the mountains. On the left of them, the capital city and the Sixth Spire shone proudly in the plains. To the right, the map¡¯s markings were sparse, marked only ¡®Uncharted Territory¡¯. It sounded foreboding, like somewhere you would go and never return from. No, she needed to get to the city and find a school, as a place of learning was called. Maybe even the University, as Aina had said with a little awe in her voice. And then after that, what? She didn¡¯t know.

    The seas looked vast, and more markings of ¡®Uncharted Territory lay below the southernmost Spire and past the Western Isles. Maybe she would go there and see what lay beyond. Then she could expand the map. Mikhel would like that.

    ¡°Aina?¡±

    The woman looked up from her needlework. ¡°Yes dear?¡±

    ¡°What would I have to do to go to school at the University?¡±

    The needles stopped clicking. ¡°You? The University?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Kima looked up at Aina, who was staring at her like she¡¯d just said something bizarre.

    ¡°Oh, sweetie, most of the people that go to the University are of noble blood.¡±

    ¡°Why should it matter if somebody has a certain kind of blood?¡±

    Aina sighed. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t. But for some reason it does.¡±

    ¡°What reason?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, love. I don¡¯t think anyone does.¡±

    ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t go, right? There has to be a way.¡±

    ¡°I suppose Mikhel could ask around the next time he takes the road down. Why this sudden interest?¡±

    Kima decided to choose her words wisely. ¡°You both are wonderful, but I don¡¯t think my purpose is here. I want to find out what it is, and to do that I need to be taught about everything.¡±

    Aina set down her needles and string and walked over to where Kima sat on the ground, joining the girl in looking at the map. ¡°You¡¯re a smart one, aren¡¯t you?¡± She wrapped her arm around Kima. ¡°I can look into this for you.¡±

    ¡°Why do you treat me as you do? I am not your daughter.¡±

    Aina laughed. ¡°You might as well be. The day Mikhel brought you home after he found you was one of the best for me. We had only a son, and he died years ago. So many times I wished and prayed for a daughter. I feel as though Yukima answered my prayers with you.¡± She looked down into Kima¡¯s eyes. ¡°So please try to understand if I don¡¯t want to let you go that easily.¡±

    ¡°I think I understand.¡± Kima rested her head on Aina. ¡°Who is this Yukima? You speak of her often, but I¡¯ve never seen her.¡±

    ¡°Of course you¡¯ve never seen her, dear. She¡¯s the goddess of the moon and of all the people across this whole continent. She¡¯s up there right now, watching down over both of us.¡±

    ¡°But how do you know if you¡¯ve never seen her? You wouldn¡¯t want to believe a lie.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Kima. But I have faith that she is. Many times I¡¯ve prayed to her and been blessed in times of need.¡±

    Kima frowned, trying to process all the words. ¡°But if you don¡¯t know that she¡¯s there, how can you be sure that all those things weren¡¯t just coincidences?¡±

    ¡°You talk of finding your purpose, right? Do you know how to find it?¡±

    Kima looked up at her, quizzical about the change of topic. ¡°I don¡¯t right now. But I think I can find a way.¡±

    Aina stood up, offering her hand to Kima. ¡°Come with me. I want to show you something.¡±

    The two walked through the kitchen and into the bedroom, each room getting a little smaller. Aina sat down on the edge of the bed and patted the covers next to her. ¡°Come, sit.¡±

    Kima sat down and folded her hands in her lap. What did you want to show me?¡±

    Aina pointed up at the wall. ¡°This right here.¡±

    A tapestry hung on the wall, as long as a man and about half as tall. The background was a deep navy around the edges, but in the center it bled into white. In a circle around the center were the eight phases of the moon, each with a list beneath them. In the white center, a woman in flowing robes held both her hands out, black hair spilling down and over her shoulders.

    Aina pointed to the different parts of the tapestry as she spoke. ¡°Around the edges, this silver embroidery is a reminder of the complications and intricate beauties of life. Then inside that, all these stars remind us to look to the sky for the moon. Some of them are connected with lines, like these ones. Those are called constellations, and they¡¯re from the old stories. They remind us of the things that Yukima has done for mankind.¡±

    ¡°Are there actually lines in the sky?¡±

    ¡°No. These are just for us down here to remember. Some people use them to navigate the seas. Then here are the phases of the moon, each one with a description of the position and a list of the most likely blessings. The full moon is the time to pray for enlightenment and wisdom. That will be soon, so if there¡¯s something you would like to know, you could try praying for it then. The first quarter is a time to pray for balance and success, while the third quarter, or last quarter as a lot of people call it, is the time to pray for strength to endure hardship. As the darkness overtakes the light, the balance is upset.¡±

    Kima traced the patterns in the air with her finger. ¡°I think I see.¡± She pointed to a constellation traced in thicker, darker lines than the rest. ¡°What is that?¡±

    Aina shuddered. ¡°That is the Black Knight. He is the enemy of Yukima. Once a mooncycle, his darkness overtakes the whole moon and we cannot see it. On that night we do not pray, as Yukima is waging another battle against him in the heavens.¡±

    ¡°And is that her in the center?¡±

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s her. Normally you don¡¯t see her in full color like this. Every town has a statue of her in their town square, and most of those are bronze or some other shaped metal. They do justice, but I prefer to see her as she is.¡±

    Kima looked closely at the picture¡¯s clothing. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t long robes like that not work very well when you¡¯re fighting?¡± Mikhel had rehearsed to her several long stories of battles, usually the ones where the empire and the people of the mountain had won. But after a little pleading, he¡¯d told her of some other battles, civil wars and petty land disputes. It seemed to her that war was a terrible thing, but that it was hard to see that when you were winning.

    Aina nodded. ¡°You¡¯re right. You¡¯ve been listening to my husband¡¯s stories, haven¡¯t you? I¡¯ve seen drawings and paintings of her in battle gear, mostly white with blue embellishments. There¡¯s something I like about those paintings, but at the same time, I prefer to think of her as a welcoming figure. Anyone can be saved by her if they have faith and live a virtuous life.¡±

    Kima thought this all over. Religion seemed to be so odd. But Aina did have some good points. ¡°So when you asked me if I knew what I was meant to do¡­¡±

    ¡°She knows all and watches over all. She put you here for a purpose, here in this place and here in this time. She knows your purpose, but she leaves it to you to find it and magnify it.¡±

    ¡°I guess I see why you believe like you do. Having someone to look over you always sounds nice.¡±

    ¡°You can have that reassurance too, love. I¡¯m not going to push you into anything you don¡¯t want. Maybe when you go down into the capital city you¡¯ll understand a little more of what I¡¯m saying. But for you, the door is always open.¡±

    Kima leaned her head against Aina¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I would like that. I will keep learning and determine if this is what I want.¡±

    ¡°You do that, love.¡±

 Chapter XIV

    Hyeon sat on his throne, dressed in his royal robes of gold and jade green. Finally, after several more days in the infirmary, the healers had declared that he could return to ruling in full capacity. Nari, however, still needed more time to recover. So here he was, his first day of officially ruling without her by his side.

    His advisors were gathered around, several aides with writing boards waiting to take down whatever the Emperor said. He cleared his throat and began.

    ¡°I have discussed the events of the coronation day with my chief tinkers and alchemists, and they agree that the weapons used were not of any design that we have seen before. As such, we have two options for who my attackers could be. Either they sailed in from the Western Isles, or they came from beyond the Barrier Mountains.¡± He let the words ring for a moment while the advisors turned and murmured to one another. ¡°Yes, the attackers could have been Engineers.¡±

    ¡°You, Eminence, if I may, how likely is it that they came from beyond the mountains? Didn¡¯t all the Engineers die after the Purge?¡±

    Hyeon shook his head. ¡°We currently have no way to answer that. They left and we chased them only as far as the slopes of the mountains. We were too hurt to do more than that.¡±

    ¡°So it¡¯s a possibility that they¡¯ve established a base of operations out of our sight and are preparing to strike?¡±

    The Emperor nodded. ¡°Exactly. Which is why I have called you all here. The Western Isles still pose a threat, especially since there¡¯s been hints of discontent. I plan to sail for the Spires and then the Isles within the week to personally check on these reports. But before I leave, we must find some way to calm the people and prepare for such an attack.¡± He slammed his fist down on the armrest of the throne. ¡°No, we can¡¯t just stop there. We need to finish the job that our ancestors started. The Engineers are a dangerous cult and I will stop at nothing until we best them and get back the secrets they¡¯ve stolen. They will be ours, their leadership crushed like a skull under the foot of a dragon!¡±

    The tall man with the dragonfly-shaped brooch to the left nodded. ¡°Excellent, my liege. I will support this.¡±

    ¡°But what to do? That is the question.¡± Hyeon gestured to his advisors. ¡°I will take ideas now.¡±

    ¡°We must remove the mountains! They cannot be allowed to hide any longer!¡±

    ¡°What about an explosive? We could shoot it over the mountains and be protected from the blast.¡±

    A short man in the back cleared his throat, and all the advisors fell silent. ¡°Your Majesty, I feel that we must not be too hasty in this endeavour. I recommend we train and dispatch scouting parties over the peaks to find where exactly the Engineers are holed up, if they are even still in proximity of this city. In the meantime, we must begin construction of defenses. The city wall is not sufficient.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Lord Altingborough.¡± Hyeon looked around. ¡°I find this to be the most sound idea. Are there any objections to this plan?¡± None of the advisors uttered a word. ¡°Very well, we shall move forward with this. Duke Leming, I want a detailed proposal of resource expenditure and curriculum in my hand by moonrise. The rest of you, spread the word that we are going to strike back against the enemy who has hit us. Make no mention of the Engineers as of yet. I fear that the name still holds my subjects in the grip of fear at its utterance.¡±

    ¡°A wise decision, Emperor.¡± Lord Altingborough unstopped his hip flask and swallowed a small taste of the liquid. ¡°I shall alert my person force that they may be called upon for service to their empire.¡±

    ¡°See to it. Captain Westing, do the same for all the royal guards. Leave enough here to be sufficiently certain of security, and put the others into the program. In fact, take volunteers from willing and able members of the community. This could be their chance to show their loyalty to me.¡±

    ¡°Yes sir.¡±

    Hyeon smiled. ¡°The Engineers won¡¯t know what hit them. We shall ride in and crush them like the insignificant insects they are.¡± He glanced up. ¡°This meeting is finished. Go about your duties and have an aide report to me what you have accomplished.¡± He stood from the throne and turned to leave.

    ¡°My lord?¡±

    Hyeon stopped. ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Have you any idea how long you will be away? This empire needs a strong head now more than over.¡±

    ¡°I leave Empress Nari in charge in my absence. She is more than qualified to reign in my absence.¡± Hyeon swept out of the audience chamber and down the hall, cloak billowing behind him. As soon as the doors closed behind him, he let his shoulders slump. Being in meetings was exhausting. All the political games and democracy and everything. He needed time to adjust and practice leading. Better to command a ship first, build up his confidence before he took the helm of war preparations. The empire was vast, many different cultures blended together. Perhaps seeing some of the more obscure ones would help him see how much he actually did know. He continued down the hall back to his quarters. First order of business, he needed to get out of these robes for a little while. They were too stiff, too new for his liking. Then he¡¯d go visit Nari and tell her the news. She¡¯d be back up on her feet by the time he left. Probably. And if not, she could give orders from her bed. If anyone could do that, it was her.

    The priestess at the door lit up when she saw Astala hurrying up the lane. ¡°Astala! How wonderful to see you.¡±

    Astala smiled. ¡°The goddess does not wait for any one person, even a priestess.¡±

    ¡°Go right inside. Senior Priestess Laurel is expecting you.¡± Astala walked slowly through the door and into the meeting house. She breathed in the fresh-smelling air and closed her eyes. This was a place where she belonged.

    The benches were subtly curved, ringing the center of the room. Tapestries hung all around, stars embroidered on their surfaces. White trees with blue-grey leaves grew in ceramic pots all around the room, tops pointing up to the glass ceiling. The windows made up a dome, the top of which sat on a hinge so it could be opened to let the moonlight in when night had come. Around the edge of the dome, windows depicted the phases of the moon for each of the twenty-eight days. Sunlight currently streamed in through them, each piece of glass outlined in brightness. Underneath the hinged top window, a pedestal sat on the floor in the center of the benches. It held a crown, silver with light-blue gems set into it. The sides were smooth and curved, but the top tapered into a series of spikes, the tallest of which sat in the middle. Currently, the sunlight from the windows above didn¡¯t quite align with the pedestal, so the crown remained in darkness. But when the meeting reached its crux, Yukima would allow her servant in the sky to illuminate her crown, a reminder of her ever-watchful presence.

    Astoria would have been skeptical. But Astala loved it. She just needed to find Senior Priestess Laurel before the meeting began. Chances were she was in the back room, preparing the moonstones. They wouldn¡¯t glow unless they were spark-charged beforehand.

    Astala adjusted her braids and rubber her moonbeam, offering a whispered prayer of thanksgiving for the people of the town before she turned to the door that led to the back.

    Senior Priestess Laurel was waiting for her when she entered. ¡°Astala! You mustn¡¯t be so late to our services! It is unbecoming of a priestess, even an apprentice!¡±

    Astala bowed her head. ¡°Apologies, Senior Priestess. I was visiting the graveyard and lost track of time.¡±

    ¡°Again? I appreciate the respect and time you give to our dead, but you cannot help them now. They are in Yukima¡¯s hands. You are better suited to serving those of her children who still walk on this plane of existence.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Senior Priestess.¡±

    Laurel¡¯s face softened. ¡°You must know, it brings me great joy to see someone as young as you taking such pride in her duty. I am very proud of you, my child. I just want to direct your zeal and effort to the place where it will bless the most lives.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Astala bowed her head again. ¡°I¡¯ll strive to be more prompt about my timing.¡±

    ¡°Now that¡¯s exactly what I like to hear from an apprentice Priestess.¡± Laurel smiled. ¡°Now help me with these moonstones. These three just refuse to recharge.¡±

    Astala placed her hand on the stones and closed her eyes, murmuring a prayer of success. She opened her eyes and stared at the stones. ¡°These need to be washed again. There¡¯s something in these two that is keeping them from recharging. And this one just needs an especially concentrated beam.¡±

    Laurel raised her eyebrows. ¡°That is a talent I rarely see in one so young. You are special, Astala.¡±

    Those words hit with more force than she¡¯d expected. Not different, not normal. Special. Maybe one day, when she decided to commit, Astoria could be special too. But Astala already was. It was a great day to be her.

    Astala helped Laurel wash the two stones in hot water, scrubbing at two particularly notorious spots on each rock. They gleamed with a different kind of shine when clean. Laurel placed the two next to the others in the sunlight on the windowsill. Astala held up the last tricky stone to the light and looked closely at its surface. It had a large imperfection on one of the sides, hard to see but definitely there. Astala placed the stone on the windowsill in the center of the others and turned it so the light glanced off the imperfection at the right angle and into the rest of the stone. The three started to glow faintly.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    ¡°Good work, apprentice. Now, would you go back into the meeting chamber and open the top? I know it¡¯s not night, but I want today to be extra special.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Senior Priestess.¡± Astala went back through the door to the chamber with the glass dome and pulled on a set of ropes near the doorway. Slowly, the top of the dome inched up and open, the glass parting to let the light in.

    Senior Priestess Laurel reappeared when the chamber had filled about halfway. ¡°Welcome everyone, and thank you for coming. For the next few minutes, I would like to have a time for silent prayer and meditation. Priestess Astala will come around and hand you a moonstone. Since this is a daytime service, they have been charged to a lesser extent by Yukima¡¯s servant, the sun.¡±

    The doors to the street outside closed, the only noise now coming in from the ceiling and the occasional loud thump from the unloading of goods outside. Astala took the woven basket of moonstones from Senior Priestess Laurel and started making her rounds, outer ring first. There were less people here than last time, and much less than the time before that. Where did everyone go? Did they not wish Yukima¡¯s blessing on everything they did?

    After each man, woman, and child above ten had a stone, Astala set the woven basket on a table near the doorway to the back. She took one herself before sitting on the end of the bench and closing her eyes. She rubbed the stone with her left hand and her moonbeam with her right, head tilted back and feeling the sunlight as it came through the glass. The dome dulled the light a little, for good reason. The moon¡¯s glow was perfect, soft and gentle, like Astala imagined the goddess herself would be like. It felt like a hug when the moon hung full in the sky. That was the best part of the mooncycle, when she would stay out on a balcony or porch and stare up into the sky. Being a little tired the next day didn¡¯t matter. It was worth it.

    The sun was too brash, too hot. He burned bright in the sky, giving people light while also giving them reason to hope for night to come. But Yukima forgave him each night because he tried his utmost best to please the moon goddess. A story for all, right there in the sky every time they looked up. Very poetic, in her opinion.

    Senior Priestess Laurel tapped lightly on the pedestal in the center of the room, bringing everyone¡¯s attention back to her. ¡°Thank you for your silence and thoughts. And thank you for your prayers on behalf of our priestesses and priests here.¡± She unrolled a thin scroll with a crescent moon set into the end of the bronze. ¡°This our prayer to thee, Oh great Goddess of the Sky, the Plane, and the Great Beyond. That thy face may shine upon us as we look up to thee¡­¡± Senior Priestess Laurel continued with the prayer, seeming to read off of the scroll even though Astala knew Laurel could recite it by heart. Even the tricky words and phrases.

    As the Senior Priestess concluded with the prayers, the sun came into alignment with the open window directly overhead. The crown on the pedestal lit up, gemstones refracting the light in all different directions. ¡°As this Crown splits the light from above and redirects it, so too must we take any available light that we receive from the great Goddess and share it with those around us. This is our duty, to share the joy we receive with the world.¡±

    The people on the benches raised their moonstones up to the light, which bent different ways as it came through the dome. Shafts of sunlight hit each bench, people flocking to them and holding up their stones. As each one hit the light, it flared with brilliant inner light, like a signal fire on a mountain or a lighthouse on a dangerous coast. For all the sun¡¯s heat, Astala decided she loved him as well as the moon. Yukima was balance, but there had to be extremes for there to be balance¡­

    The light from above flickered, like the sun had suddenly become a fire that the great winds were blowing on. Senior Priestess Laurel looked up with an expression of uncertainty, the feeling echoed on the faces of many of those in attendance. Some set down their stones and stood to leave.

    ¡°Wait! This is a trial, a test from Yukima herself. We must remain true and pray through the darkness, knowing that on the other side light must prevail once more!¡±

    Astala looked up at the sky. Thick smoke to the east, thinning enough to let the sun through by the time it reached them. That much smoke could only come from a fire the size of a town¡­

    Apprentice Priestess Astala rose and deposited her moonstone in the woven basket without holding it up to the light. Senior Priestess Laurel turned to look at her. ¡°My apologies, Senior Priestess, but I must go.¡±

    ¡°Child, we¡¯re in the middle of a service. You cannot just up and leave. You are an instrument in Yukima¡¯s hands to help these people. She cannot very well play the song of redeeming love through you if you are not here.¡±

    Astala barely heard the words as she rushed out the door to the street. She had to get away from here, see what was burning more clearly. The commoners on the street moved out  of the way as they saw a priestess running full tilt towards the Spire. She would miss that feeling. But for now, she couldn¡¯t afford to worry about that.

    The hill to the west of town, at the start of the Spire, afforded her just enough view to make out what was going on. The coastal town burned against the clear ocean behind it, multiple buildings sending up tall flames. The tallest of the flames danced right in the center. The dockmaster¡¯s office. The same building she¡¯d buzzed on dragonback just hours before.

    Astala pulled off her wig and threw it to the ground, moonbeam glimmering as it fell. She raked her fingers through her frizzy red hair, letting it back out to its normal length. Forget what other people would think. She couldn¡¯t go back anyway.

    Dragons were attracted to fire. It seemed that something, in the back of their minds, recognized fire and associated it with other dragons. After all, back when the puny humans had first figured out fire, they were of no significant threat to any respectable dragon. And if they were, well, survival of the fittest.

    That no longer held true. Humans could take down any dragon if they flew too close. But dragons still were drawn to it like dragonflies to a lantern. And they would all die if they got too close. Especially those who depended on their riders. She knew all too well what happened when someone flew a little too close to the town¡¯s defenses.

    Astoria pulled a large whistle from her pack and blew into it as hard as she could, making a screeching noise that Swampmist would hear. Maybe if Astoria could get her attention before the dragon flew too far, she¡¯d fly back and stay out of danger. Maybe. Spires knew it was hard to pull a dragon away from fire.

    The dragons inside the Spire would be safe, out of view of the fire. They¡¯d smell it, but that wouldn¡¯t be enough to get them all the way out and across the Spire-land. But she¡¯d let Swampmist fly on her own while she¡¯d gone down into town. Astoria regretted that decision now.

    She blew on the whistle again and again, but no cry from her dragon echoed in return. Astoria lifted to whistle one final time while stuffing the wig on the ground back into her bag. Louder. It had to be louder¡­

    Sharp claws dug into her shoulders, piercing through her robes and drawing a little blood. Astoria¡¯s feet abruptly left the ground, and her face went straight into a tree as the dragon above her. Spitting out needles and sap, she wiped the blood off her forehead from several cuts. She¡¯d have time to dress those later. Why hadn¡¯t her dragon landed and let her mount up like always?

    She looked up at the scaly beast and recoiled in fear. No saddle, no bags. A wild dragon. It must have heard her whistle and thought she was a little dragon. At least it had picked her up instead of eating her straight away. She had a little time to plan how to avoid a sudden and fiery death, either from the town fire or from the dragon¡¯s breath.

    First things first, she couldn¡¯t afford to be called out. Chances are the people in the coastal town didn¡¯t know her face, even if they knew of her reputation. She pulled the moonbeam from the wig in her bag and braided it into her hair, almost dropping it twice. But now she had a passable disguise.

    The dragon swooped down towards the burning town, eyes wide and fixed on the dockmaster¡¯s office. Astoria pulled out her knife from the uniform in her bag. If she timed it right, she could get the dragon to let go of her over the shallows. She¡¯d survive that fall with minimal injuries and then try to find her own dragon and free her if necessary. Steady, steady, now! She stabbed the knife into the skin around one of the dragon¡¯s claws, withdrawing and repeating the motion on the other side. The wild dragon bellowed in pain and withdrew its talons from her. Now she fell, faster and faster. A rider couldn¡¯t be afraid of a little falling. But fear of death was normal, and it started crawling up her throat as she fell. She¡¯d hit the water and go under, sinking like a stone until she hit the bottom. Her ears would pop, but she¡¯d splash her way to the surface. And then she¡¯d start her hunt.

    The coldness of the water surprised her when she hit, salty spray immediately flooding her eyes and nose. She gagged and inhaled by reflex, water coursing into her lungs. Down she went, down, down into the darkness, the water pulling her heat and life away. She had to get back to the surface. Her ears popped and rang as her feet hit the sandy bottom. Where had her shoes gone? She pushed the thought aside and stroked with all her might, willing herself up to the surface. Astala would have said a prayer and received a breath of fresh air underwater. But Astala wasn¡¯t here. Astoria was. And the dragon rider would die if she didn¡¯t try harder and get herself out of this mess.

    Astoria kicked and kicked, her robes dragging her down. Her eyes started to dim, but she continued on. Just a little¡­ farther. She breached the surface, spitting up all the water from her lungs as she coughed and sputtered. So much water, so much salt. Her eyes and throat burned, but she forced herself to forget them and look around. Ships. Big ships, everywhere she looked. But why were ships of this size in the harbor? The docks weren¡¯t equipped to handle something that big.

    Her eyes fell upon the flag of the lead ship. Crossed sword and spear. Raiders. Now the fire made sense. She kicked to the shore, chest heaving as she tried to get all the water out of her lungs. Each breath felt like someone was kicking her in the chest.

    When the sand came up to meet her feet, she started walking, pulling her coughing body and her soaked robes and her water-filled bag along until the water met the beach and she could fall down on her hands and knees. Snot and saliva and saltwater all mixed as she hacked up her insides. Everything told her to lay down on the sand and give up.

    But she couldn¡¯t just lay down. She had a mission and a friend to save. Up. Up! She brought her knee forward, pushing up on it until she stood at the waterline, bare toes sinking in the sand. Onward she pushed herself, the heat from the burning buildings already starting to dry the salt on her skin.

    Two of the ships were leaving, pulling up their huge hulking anchors and setting sail for who knew where. But the last ship remained, crew members loading crates and barrels into it. She¡¯d just walk right past and find her dragon before the outer defenders of the town shot her down.

    A meaty hand clamped down on her arm, stopping her in her tracks. She whirled around, looking up at the man. He had a crooked nose and two eyes that seemed small for his head. ¡°Hey McKinley, they missed one!¡±

    Astoria tried to shake off the man¡¯s grasp, but he shook her around until she gave up. A man in a longcoat and a black hat walked over. ¡°Well, well, well, looks like they did. Won¡¯t the kaptain be happy when we turn up with another to add to the haul.¡± He pointed to the ship. ¡°Get her onboard the Revenge. We sail as soon as these last two crates are up and away.¡±

    The man with the broken nose nodded and started towards the steep gangway to the ship, pulling Astoria along with him despite her best attempts to dig her heels into the sand and stop their progress. Eventually he stopped and turned to her, backhanding her across the face. She tasted blood, her split lip burning as the salt from the water seeped into it. ¡°Stop playing games and get on the ship.¡± Astoria reached into her bag and wrapped her hand around the hilt of her dagger. One slash and she could be back on her way to finding her dragon.

    The man anticipated her move. As her hand left the bag, he grabbed her wrist and wrenched the dagger from her grasp. With one swift move, he brought the hilt down on her head. Her vision blackened and her senses deserted her as her body fell limp. Oh Swampmist, I¡¯m so sorry.

 Chapter XV

    Where am I? Astoria blinked her eyes open, staring up. Something scratched against her back as she moved. And why did her head feel like a dragon had bit it off? She tried to push herself up, but her hands refused to move from behind her back. Something bit into them, rough and hot. Rope? Yes, her hands were tied behind her back. She scrabbled over to a wall and used it to lever herself onto her feet, ignoring her head¡¯s pleas to rest. A barred porthole looked towards the stern of the ship, water passing quickly along as the boat sailed out of the harbor. The town was still on fire. Dragons of all shapes and sizes, wild and tame, circled above the flames. One by one they were picked off by darts and nets fired from the towers on the edges of town. Astoria couldn¡¯t tell, but she hoped against fate that her dragon hadn¡¯t been in that group.

    Somehow the raiders had thought she¡¯d escaped from a previous ship. Maybe because of her clothes? But no way in the Five Spires would raiders specifically target priestesses and priests. Mariners were superstitious folk, and the bad luck that came from something like that lasted more than a lifetime. It must have just been because she¡¯d been all wet from her dragon-dive.

    Whatever the reason, she was stuck here. When the kaptain showed up, she¡¯d plead her case to him. Otherwise, she¡¯d just have to stick it out and hope for the best. That meant waiting. Astoria hated waiting. But it appeared Yukima had another test for her. And Astoria didn¡¯t back down from a challenge.

    A knock came on Kaptain Rin¡¯s door, hard and fast. Only one, because she¡¯d snap at anyone who did more. ¡°What?¡± She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, fanning herself with the humid sea air that somehow made it all the way to the interior of the ship.

    ¡°We¡¯ll make landfall in the next hour. You asked to be woken in time to supervise the docking.¡±

    Rin groaned and pushed herself up. ¡°Thank you. I¡¯ll be up in five.¡±

    The footsteps outside her room faded away while she lit the lantern on her desk with a match. A little fire couldn¡¯t hurt a ship like the Luxury. She probably laughed at the tiny flame, insignificant.

    Back into raider attire, this time with a navy coat over her dress. The red coat just didn¡¯t seem right, although it made it better that she¡¯d stolen this one off the back of a soldier while he stared right at her.

    Rin adjusted her hat and necklace before blowing out the lantern and opening the door. Back to business and thievery as usual.

    Lanterns lit the deck when she reached the top stair, fending off the darkness. The crew nodded to her as her boots clicked on the deck. She headed straight to the bow, as always. Perhaps in this she did fulfill the stereotype, but it really was the best place to use a spyglass, short of climbing all the way up to the morningcrow¡¯s nest. And she didn¡¯t really feel like climbing all the way up there in boots. She¡¯d done it once and only once before. That had been the time she¡¯d fallen.

    She spiraled out her spyglass, although she could see the land clearly with her naked eye. She wanted to see the flag flying on the flagpole of the dockmaster¡¯s office. That would tell her how she had to act in order to gain favor with whoever it was she was delivering to. Rin placed one boot on the railing, right above the dragon figurehead. She knew she painted a striking image, staring straight ahead. That was why she did it.

    The flag had three stripes, two diagonal ones from the top left to the bottom right and one horizontal on the bottom half. Four stars in a diamond pattern shone from the top right. Whoever flew the flag, they were in conspiracy with the nobles of the Western Isles. Exactly as she¡¯d been told. She¡¯d just lay on the charm a little and get a few extra coins for her trouble. They¡¯d already promised enough that it wouldn¡¯t make that much of a difference, but coin was coin.

    ¡°Alright, dulleyes, let¡¯s get the sails turned. We¡¯re going to slide in nice and easy like the hull¡¯s greased. Everyone on your best behavior. This time around I¡¯m not opposed to throwing sailors off if they sneeze at the wrong time.¡± She paused. ¡°Go! Get it done!¡±

    The deck came alive with activity, sailors rushing this way and that, ropes being tied and untied. Lanterns swayed in the breeze and wake of running sailors. And Rin stayed at the bow of the ship and leaned on the railing, watching the beautiful chaos. Sailing required a team, a crew. Anything you could sail all on your own wasn¡¯t worth sailing.

    The lights of the dock grew brighter and brighter until Rin could make out the faces of the men standing there. As the ship slowed and pulled alongside the wooden pier, Rin grabbed hold of a long rope with a weight on the end. She climbed onto the bow¡¯s right railing and stepped off, swinging down onto the dock. As her boots hit the wood she let go, the weight on the rope carrying it back around and up onto the deck. She bowed low. ¡°Kaptain Rin, at your service.¡±

    The man in front sniffed, unimpressed. He wore a white jacket, red and gold embroidery burning in the lanternlight. ¡°You have the prisoners?¡±

    Rin¡¯s expression hardened. ¡°Oh, I have them. You give me the coin I was promised and I¡¯ll hand them over.¡±

    ¡°How many?¡±

    Rin threw up her hands. ¡°How should I know? I didn¡¯t count them as I threw them in the brig. I was promised a flat rate.¡±

    ¡°The deal has been altered.¡± The man stepped forward, looking up at the ship.

    Rin sniffed. ¡°By who? You?¡±

    The man smiled, shadows distorting his expression into something hideous. ¡°Oh no, not me. I¡¯m just the emissary.¡±

    ¡°Fine.¡± Rin snapped her fingers and pointed up at the ship, her eyes never leaving the man. A gangplank slammed down onto the wood of the dock, wood cracking and grinding slightly. Five priestesses and two priests were marched down the way, hands tied.

    Wait, five? We only had four back on the shore. Rin held up her hand. ¡°Alright, who¡¯s the priestess with the red hair? You really think I¡¯m going to believe that?¡±

    The girl sniffed. ¡°Believe what? That you picked up the wrong person? Believe it.¡±

    Rin turned to the man in white. ¡°Take those six. They¡¯re yours to do with as you will. I just want my coin. As for this one¡­¡± She pointed her thumb at the girl with the red hair. ¡°I¡¯m going to go figure out which numbskull thought that was a priestess.¡± She said the last part louder so the men from her crew on the dock heard it as well. The man turned to inspect the other prisoners.

    Rin pulled the man holding the red-haired girl¡¯s ropes. ¡°What is this?¡±

    The girl waved sarcastically. ¡°¡®This¡¯ is right here, you know.¡±

    ¡°I dunno what you mean, Kaptain. She was wearin¡¯ the same clothes as the others on the beach, and she was all wet. We assumed she¡¯d jumped ship and was swimmin¡¯ back to land.¡±

    Rin stuck her finger in the man¡¯s face. ¡°Never assume anything. Plus, how did you not register the fact that her hair is bright red?¡±

    The man scratched his head. ¡°I mean, yeah, it is. What does that mean?¡±

    Rin groaned loudly. ¡°I¡¯m surrounded by dullminded idiots.¡± She turned to the man. ¡°It means there¡¯s no way she¡¯s a priestess!¡±

    The girl stomped her foot on the planks, the sound echoing and interrupting Rin¡¯s tirade. ¡°Uh, hello? Why don¡¯t you ask the girl herself what¡¯s going on?¡±

    Rin followed her arms and fixed the girl with a hard stare. ¡°Fine. Plead your case. And my time is precious, so if you start going off to another Spire I¡¯ll toss you over the edge.¡±

    The girl took a deep breath, although it looked like less for calming her nerves and more like she intended to talk a lot very quickly. ¡°My name is Astoria. I¡¯m a dragon rider from Slantspire. I¡¯m also the grifter of the group. This is a disguise to help me get into a meeting and nick some valuables that I always see the priestesses stowing away. I think they¡¯re siphoning off some of the donations from the townspeople, so I figured that I couldn¡¯t be blamed for stealing the money if it was already stolen.¡± She glared at the man holding her rope. ¡°Until a wild dragon dropped me in the water right in front of some of the dumbest raiders I¡¯ve ever seen. And believe me, I¡¯ve seen a lot of them.¡±

    Rin¡¯s gaze softened a little bit. ¡°Did you say dragon rider?¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Is that a question?¡±

    ¡°No. Yes. I mean, no it¡¯s not, yes I¡­¡±

    ¡°Stop your rambling, girl. I can¡¯t think when you¡¯re doing that.¡± Astoria shut her mouth. ¡°Do you know someone named Cirris Dawnsword?¡±

    Astoria perked up. ¡°Yes, but his last name is Dawnbreaker, not Dawnsword.¡±

    Rin turned to the man. ¡°Cut her loose.¡±

    ¡°But I¡­¡±

    Rin¡¯s gaze drilled into him. ¡°I said cut her loose.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Kaptain.¡± Astoria rubbed her wrists as soon as the rope fell away.

    ¡°Astoria?¡±

    She looked up at the kaptain. ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Come with me. I think we¡¯ve got some things to talk about.¡± Rin turned to the man holding the severed rope. ¡°Go find the first officer and tell him to finish up the transaction. Then  go dunk your head in something that burns. I don¡¯t want to see you again tonight.¡±

    Rin offered Astoria her hand. ¡°Alright, I can imagine these last few days have been rough for you. I¡¯d like to apologize formally for that. It¡¯s hard to work with idiots.¡±This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Astoria laughed. ¡°I know the feeling.¡±

    ¡°Is Cirris that bad?¡±

    ¡°No, not him. But a few of the others. Rennick especially.¡±

    Rin led the way up the gangplank. ¡°What¡¯s up with Rennick?¡±

    Astoria made a dismissive motion. ¡°Oh, nothing really. He¡¯s just a little bit too dramatic when he tells his stories.¡±

    ¡°Really? Do any of those stories happen to be about Kaptain Rin and the Luxury?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t recognize those names, but I suspect there¡¯s one or two in there implicitly.¡±

    ¡°Well, welcome to the Luxury. My name is Rin, and this is my fleet.¡±

    ¡°I wish I could say it¡¯s a pleasure to meet you, but I think that would be stretching it a little bit much. No offense.¡±

    ¡°None taken. If I took offense at something like that, I¡¯d be all over the seas in revenge. Although that is the name of one of my ships¡­¡± Rin led the way down the stairs of the Luxury to the hold. The barkeep looked up from his polishing when the two walked in. Rin sank into a seat and tapped on the bartop. ¡°Pull out that bottle of wine that I¡¯ve had for a while. I think tonight¡¯s the night.¡± She turned to Astoria. ¡°I don¡¯t know how old you are, but I don¡¯t really care. Sometimes you just need to drink something that burns.¡±

    Astoria nodded. ¡°To be honest, I don¡¯t even know what the legal drinking age is. I¡¯ve been stealing shots and sips since I started grifting years ago. When you have somebody¡¯s favor, they don¡¯t really ask.¡±

    The barkeep set two glasses on the bartop and poured each half full with clear liquid that had a greenish tint to it. Rin picked up a glass and raised it, swirling the liquid inside. ¡°This particular bottle I stole from an old rival of mine. He had it on his night-table, and I pinched it while he was sleeping. Left a nice note instead.¡± She took a swig. ¡°Come to think of it, that wasn¡¯t the smartest idea, but sometimes a raider¡¯s got to have herself a little fun.¡±

    Astoria tested the wine before taking a swig of her own. ¡°Absolutely agree there. Sometimes I¡¯ll pick up one of the younger kids and let my dragon toss them up and down for a while, just to toughen them up. Not to mention all my jobs in the town.¡±

    ¡°Do you have a lot of those? Sounds like you¡¯ve been at this for a while?¡±

    Astoria took a large gulp of wine before answering. ¡°Used to. Then I got a job that ended with a fire and a lot of dead people. I figured that would be a good time to pull out and end my operation. I still go back every so often to swindle a few people when I visit the graveyard.¡±

    ¡°You go visit that place often?¡¯ Rin set her glass down and clapped Astoria on the shoulder. You shouldn¡¯t keep reminding yourself of what went wrong. There¡¯s no good course that way for any person.¡±

    ¡°But those deaths were my fault. If I hadn¡¯t dropped the torch¡­¡±

    ¡°Did he make you drop it?¡±

    ¡°Well, yes, but¡­¡±

    ¡°Then it¡¯s settled. It¡¯s not your fault if someone makes you. It¡¯s his.¡±

    ¡°I guess so.¡±

    Rin looked over at her, tipping her hat back a little so that the shadows slipped away from her face a little. ¡°You don¡¯t sound convinced.¡± She looked Astoria in the eyes. ¡°How many people do you think I¡¯ve sent to a watery grave?¡±

    ¡°Is there a right answer to this question?¡±

    Rin laughed. ¡°No, I suppose not. But the real answer is hundreds. I¡¯ve given the order to sink entire ships, even a small fleet once. The crew members all drowned. No survivors.¡±

    Astoria frowned. ¡°How do you live with yourself? That¡¯s so many.¡±

    Rin grinned in spite of her expression. ¡°Because that¡¯s the way it is in life, especially on the high seas. The strong prosper and succeed, even if they have to push the weak over the edge sometimes. If those kaptains had been as good and strong as me, you¡¯d be talking to them today instead of me. But you¡¯re not, because I was always the better of the two. You get it?¡±

    Astoria stopped frowning, although to say she smiled was still a stretch. ¡°I think so. But then how does everyone else get by? And what happens when someone wants to learn from the best?¡±

    Rin finished off her glass, although Astoria still had a quarter of her wine left. ¡°That¡¯s where the line fuzzes. You have to put up with some stupidity because, one, you won¡¯t live forever, and you want to leave a legacy instead of a power vacuum, and two, you can¡¯t sail without a crew.¡±

    ¡°What about those small little ships? Skirtbows, I think they¡¯re called?¡±

    ¡°Ha. Those don¡¯t count.¡± Astoria hurriedly finished her wine, a thin line of fluid dribbling down her chin. Rin handed her a napkin. ¡°That¡¯s something you¡¯ll learn in life, if you survive long enough. You have to have a team, but you don¡¯t have to trust them completely.¡±

    Astoria stretched and yawned something fierce. ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind.¡±

    Rin took her arm and pulled her up. ¡°I¡¯ll find you a bed where you can sleep that off. I¡¯m sure you haven¡¯t slept a full night in a few days.¡± She started to lead the way through the door and into the rest of the ship.

    ¡°It¡¯s my dragon. I just hope she didn¡¯t get shot down above that fire.¡±

    Rin frowned. ¡°I can¡¯t guarantee anything, but I¡¯ll turn this ship around and take you back there if that¡¯s what you want.¡± She paused. ¡°Or I can give you an offer you don¡¯t want to refuse.¡±

    Astoria opened her eyes a little wider, although her eyelids quickly sank back down. ¡°Oh? What¡¯s that?¡±

    ¡°Alas, this is not the hour for negotiation. I¡¯ll tell you in the morning.¡± Rin pulled out a key and unlocked the door to her own quarters. ¡°I¡¯ll lock the door so some of the younger boys don¡¯t get any ideas while you¡¯re sleeping. And when morning comes around, I¡¯ll see when you wake up. This ship has the finest cook you¡¯ll find on the straits.¡±

    Astoria looked up at Rin. ¡°Why are you being so nice?¡±

    Rin opened the door. ¡°I¡¯m a raider kaptain. That doesn¡¯t mean I don¡¯t have any self-respect. Skap¡¯s honor.¡±

    ¡°Alright. See you in the morning.¡± Astoria walked into the room and fell onto the bed. Rin closed the door and locked it, testing the knob to make sure. If Astoria really wanted to return to Slantspire, Rin would keep her word. But there was something different about her from Cirris. She hadn¡¯t said she came from Slantspire, only that she was a rider. If the location didn¡¯t matter to her, then maybe she¡¯d be more inclined to take Rin¡¯s offer of becoming a dragon raider.

    She brushed off the thoughts. There would be time for that in the morning. For now, she needed to go find somewhere to hole up in. Probably a junior officer¡¯s cabin. They wouldn¡¯t test their luck if they found her asleep on their own bed.

    Kima rolled over in her makeshift bed, eyes closed and mind dreaming. Something chased her between the blue-grey needled trees of the forest and across the plains. The water came up in front of her, black in the absence of the moon. Of course there had to be a new moon tonight. She braced herself for impact on the water, figuring that she could draw her pursuer into the water and get a closer look at them while they were slowed down before running off again. She closed her eyes and waited for the feeling of cold seawater on her ankles. But the feeling never came, just a slight cold on the bottoms of her feet. Kima opened her eyes and looked down. The water sprayed under her feet, the surface holding as she ran across it. She risked a glance back.

    Her pursuer had followed her out onto the water, although it looked more impressive for him. In the faint light of the stars, Kima saw the outlines of armor. But the metal didn¡¯t reflect any light, instead drawing it in. On the knight¡¯s head sat a helmet of the same dark metal. Two lights glowed like stars where the knight¡¯s eyes should¡¯ve been.

    Kima turned her eyes forward again and tried to run faster, but her feet started to sink more and more into the water with each step until she could no longer pull them up. She slammed forward and sank to her waist, then to her chest. The water rose up to her chin, and the knight still gained on her. She gasped in one last breath before the water pulled her under. Down she sank, air bubbles escaping from her lungs as the pressure of the deep squeezed the life from her. Above, the knight was silhouetted against the starlight. Before her eyes closed for the last time, a shiver ran through her. It had nothing to do with the cold.

    The Black Knight was chasing her. And he wouldn¡¯t stop until he found her.

    Kima gasped and sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The dream had ended as the Black Knight had knelt down on the surface of the water and reached his gauntleted hand toward her as she sank. Even though she¡¯d sunk meters below the surface, it felt like the armored hands had just brushed her dress.

    Air. She needed fresh air. Kima tore off the covers, her skin slick with sweat. She needed to see the stars again. Up off the pile of blankets, out the front door, past the pen full of Mikhel¡¯s goats. Out to where there were no trees and the sky could finally show off in all its splendor.

    She reached the open space and stopped, throwing herself on the ground in a patch of thin grass. Across her whole field of vision, all she could see were stars. It felt like she was flying through the sky¡­

    She froze again, something that happened more and more often. How did she know what flying felt like? Had she been able to fly in her past life? She looked around, searching for an answer that wasn¡¯t there. Maybe she¡¯d flown a dragon? Mikhel had told her about the rumors of dragon riders on one of the Spires. Yes, that had to be it. She¡¯d flown dragons up higher than everyone else.

    But something inside her resisted the idea. If that had been who she¡¯d used to be, why was she like this now? Had she fallen off the back of her dragon and hit her head? No, she¡¯d surely be dead if that had happened. Falls from great heights killed people. Mikhel had told her that when she¡¯d walked a little too close to the edge of a cliff. Still, the idea seemed more plausible than anything else she¡¯d thought of. She probably was a dragon rider. No. Kima slowed her thoughts, calming the racing speed that her mind reached all too often. She¡¯d been a dragon rider. But did she want to be again? Or was there some reason she was like this? Had Yukima cursed her to forget everything she loved, or was this a chance at a fresh start, away from all the mistakes she might have made in the past? Or maybe this was simple coincidence, with no divine intervention of any sort? The stars no longer calmed her the way they had the last few nights.

    Kima looked up at where the dark outline of the moon was barely visible in the starlight. There, right to the left of it, a collection of stars that vaguely resembled a man with a spear. As she stared up, the image from her dream was overlaid on the sky, and the Black Knight stared down at her, one arm out to snatch her away from the little life that she had built up in so short a time.

    She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. The Black Knight might have been able to steal the stars from her, but he couldn¡¯t steal the night air and the cool breeze. She opened her eyes and sat up, lowering her gaze from the sky. He couldn¡¯t take from her the view of the capital city and the Sixth Spire. All the lights down below made her feel small, but in a different way from the stars. When she looked up, she felt like whatever she did wouldn¡¯t ever make a difference. But when she looked down, the lanternlight comforted her. She imagined each light was a person, someone she had the power to help. Perhaps some of the lights came from the University as well. One day, maybe she would look up from the city and try to find a dark patch on the mountain where a kind couple lived in solitude.

    Mikhel had gone, making the journey down the mountain to pay his taxes and purchase new tools and supplies for the next six mooncycles. Twice a year, down the mountain for three days, in the city for a day, and three more days back up to his cottage. This time, Aina had convinced him to ask about the University and how someone from the mountains might gain admittance. He¡¯d grumbled about it, but Kima thought that he secretly felt a little pride that she¡¯d shown interest in higher learning.

    Her gaze turned to the Sixth Spire. How had they built such a large structure? It reached into the sky, easily several times taller than the highest buildings. From what Aina had told her about the other Spires, this one was the smallest by far, but it still confused her mind trying to think about it. What purpose did it serve? And what did they do with all the space? Surely the Emperor and Empress didn¡¯t need it all, even if they were royalty.

    The other Spires sounded fascinating too, needles of rock that jutted out of the seas. How did people live on them? Did they build their cottages on the side of the rock? But that wouldn¡¯t work, because the ground would pull them down and they would fall. And falling killed people. Maybe they carved into the rock? She had no clue how they would do something like that.

    The Sixth Spire seemed quiet for now, serene and beautiful in the early morning darkness. Kima felt a chill as the night wind brushed past her on its way west. She hadn¡¯t thought to bring a shawl with her when she¡¯d run, but now she regretted being so hasty. It was too early to be up. She needed to get more rest. When she didn¡¯t get enough rest, the world seemed like a worse place to be, and she didn¡¯t like that. The world was a wonderful place, and she wanted to always see it like that.

 Chapter XVI

    Charity lay back in a chair dozing when Ambrose walked into the already-familiar room off the side of the invention floor. She looked so tired, even in sleep. He didn¡¯t want to wake her up. So, of course, when he went to take another step, he slipped on a piece of paper that had spilled off the collapsed pile still sitting on the desk. His weight went forward and his legs went back, crashing to the floor and knocking the wind out of him. Charity bolted upright in her chair, right hand instinctively reaching for her pocket. She shook her head and blinked her eyes before staring down at him. ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    Ambrose rolled over and caught his breath before sitting up. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±

    ¡°Okay, good.¡± Charity paused. ¡°Did I fall asleep?¡±

    ¡°Maybe just a little bit. But it¡¯s okay. I just got here. And you look like you need it.¡±

    ¡°Do I? Is it really that bad?¡± Charity turned to a shiny metal panel on the wall and scrunched up her face. ¡°Eek. That¡¯s really bad.¡± She turned back to Ambrose. ¡°I¡¯ll try to fix that more tonight. I¡¯m not going to be a very good teacher if I keep falling asleep when I should be teaching.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s okay, really.¡± Ambrose looked over at the table. ¡°You said you¡¯d have some things for me?¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± Charity pulled a bag from off the table and opened it. She pulled out a set of bracers, shorter than those he¡¯d seen for archery. ¡°Go ahead, put them on.¡± He slipped them over his wrists and clicked them into place. They were thin on the inside, but the outside reached from his wrist to halfway up his forearm. ¡°Look at the one on your left.¡±

    Ambrose tapped at the left bracer, turning it around. The outside had a squared-off rectangle with four digits on rotating dials. ¡°That¡¯s your chrono. Every so often you¡¯ll want to sync it with the main clock, which is tied to the Central Pillar. As long as there¡¯s a vital in the Pillar, it¡¯ll keep time. This system uses an oscillator of some sort. I¡¯m not entirely sure how it works, but it does.¡±

    Ambrose tapped on the clear screen above the dials with the numbers. ¡°How durable is this? I saw you hitting the signal rope on the pulleys with it.¡±

    ¡°Watch the screen for cracks, but the metal part can take a beating. But it¡¯s not meant for that kind of beating. That brings us to the right side.¡± Ambrose looked at the bracer on his right arm. It didn¡¯t have any clear pieces or obvious switches or dials. ¡°This is your signal bracer. It has that name for two reasons. One, you can hit the signal ropes with it. That¡¯ll be the thing you do most with it.¡±

    ¡°Figures. What¡¯s the other reason?¡±

    Charity flipped up a panel on the edge of the bracer. There were three tiny switches underneath. ¡°It can act as a signal flare. The first switch is spring-loaded. If you¡¯re not holding it in the on position, the others won¡¯t do anything. The second is the arming switch. The tiny bit of explosive inside can be lit after you flip this one. And the third switch detonates the flare on a five second delay. Once you flip the third switch, throw the bracer as high as you can and find some cover.¡±

    ¡°So you regularly hit things with something that has an explosive inside?¡±

    Charity nodded. ¡°Yep. We¡¯ve never had a malfunction. Perfectly safe.¡±

    ¡°Like most things around here?¡±

    She thought about it for a second. ¡°Yeah, pretty much.¡± She perked up. ¡°Oh, and one more thing about it.¡± She pressed on a specific spot towards the front. The top of the bracer popped up at an angle, a rack of small tools ready to use. ¡°If you ever find yourself in need of some really small tools, these will do the trick. Screwdriver, tweezers, knife blade, about all the things you could really want as an Engineer.¡±

    ¡°Wow. This little thing packs a punch.¡±

    ¡°Literally. Please don¡¯t hit anyone with it.¡± Charity reached into her bag again, this time drawing out a book. The pages looked worn with use. ¡°Here¡¯s your manual. No, you¡¯re not the first one to use it. But it¡¯s practically like new.¡± She paused. ¡°As new as you need it to be.¡±

    Ambrose flipped through some of the pages. Lots of diagrams and notes in the margins and under the pictures. He wasn¡¯t sure which ones were meant to be there and which ones were added afterwards by the book¡¯s previous owners. ¡°Alright. I guess this means I¡¯ll have some work to do on my own time.¡±

    ¡°Not too much. You¡¯ll be up here training with me for most of your day. Sometimes you''ll find other Engineer-trainee pairs and practice with them. Or, in your case, maybe even other Engineer pairs.¡±

    ¡°It sounds like I¡¯m going to be tired by the end of the day. Especially if you¡¯re any indication.¡± He winced. That hadn¡¯t sounded as offensive in his head.

    Charity went slightly red. ¡°Hey, not fair. I have to work and teach. Not easy.¡±

    ¡°Sorry. I¡¯ll try to sleep enough.¡± Ambrose looked over his new equipment, twisting the bracers on his arm to find the right fit. Charity hesitated before pulling out a small case from her bag.

    ¡°That¡¯s all the regulation gear.¡± She leaned a little closer. ¡°But do you want something that¡¯s not in the regulations?¡±

    ¡°Won¡¯t I get in trouble for that?¡± Ambrose looked warily at the box.

    ¡°Nope. At least, not as far as I know.¡±

    ¡°Fine. What is it?¡±

    Charity opened the box and pulled out a roughly cylindrical object, hollow on the inside with something over the end. She clipped it to the side of Ambrose¡¯s goggles, over the left lens. He slid them down over his eyes, trying to see the difference between the two sides. ¡°Is it supposed to do something?¡±

    Charity fiddled with a flat knob on the side, and the one side of Ambrose¡¯s vision suddenly zoomed in on her face. He jumped, surprised by the sudden magnification. She smiled, clapping her hands lightly. ¡°So it does work! Messing with the lenses in that thing was a lot of fun. For the first two days, that is. After that, it was an absolute chore.¡±

    ¡°This could actually come in really handy.¡± Ambrose looked around, blinking his eyes closed at different times to see how his vision changed. Charity waved a hand in front of his face.

    ¡°Alright, wonderful. That works. But that¡¯s not the reason I built these. Any Engineer could theoretically build a magnifier.¡± She turned the dial a little more, fine-tuning the distance between the two lenses inside her device. ¡°Okay, this is going to sound odd, but I want you to push a little bit of power into the side of this device. Nothing major, because I don¡¯t want it to blow up in my face.¡±

    Ambrose looked for his core, which still felt sluggish from activating the vital. He took some of the gas that misted off the point of light and funnelled it down his left arm to the device. The lens darkened, taking on a dark amber shade.

    ¡°You can stop pushing now. It¡¯ll last for a minute.¡± Ambrose looked around, trying to figure out what was different other than the fact that the room was suddenly darker in one eye.

    ¡°I don¡¯t see anything.¡±Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    Charity pulled out a small round ball with various panels around the surface. ¡°Watch this ball and see if anything changes.¡±

    Ambrose fixed both his eyes on the ball. At first, nothing happened. Then, almost imperceptibly, the ball began to glow. It was dim at first, but quickly grew to the brightness of the overhead lighting. He blinked his eyes and saw that the glow only registered in his left eye.

    ¡°It¡¯s glowing. Really bright now. But it started off dim.¡±

    Charity actually jumped for joy. ¡°It works!¡±

    Ambrose slid the goggles back up onto his head. ¡°What did that do?¡±

    ¡°Because you powered it yourself, I think it allowed you to see other things around you that people have powered with their core energy. My eyes are so bad that I could never tell. I haven¡¯t figured out how to fix the vision and use the powered lens at the same time.¡±

    ¡°Well, it definitely works.¡± Ambrose reached up to his goggles. ¡°Did you want this back?¡±

    ¡°No, you keep it. I¡¯m going to keep working on a few things, but it doesn¡¯t help me right now.¡±

    Ambrose looked down at the uniform he wore. ¡°Hey, what do I need to do with this? Do I just go give it to the quartermaster?¡±

    Charity rifled through her bag. ¡°You can just give it to me. I¡¯ll get it washed and then return it. You¡¯ll want to change into that new one now that you have the rest of your uniform.¡±

    Ambrose looked out at the invention floor. ¡°Where do I do that?¡±

    ¡°Well, you could either do it in here while I turn my back, or you could go down the hall to the right. There¡¯s a waste station there with some closable doors.¡±

    ¡°Sounds great. I¡¯ll be right back.¡± Ambrose grabbed his bag from the floor and stood up, heading out of the training room and into the circular hallway around the invention floor. Sure enough, down the hallway to the right of the room stood a set of doors, slightly ajar. They didn¡¯t appear to have any signs on them, so Ambrose chose the one closest to the invention floor and locked himself inside. Out of the old jumpsuit still so new that the creases snapped back together the instant he laid it down. Into an equally new jumpsuit that at least seemed slightly softer. He clipped his belt around it and added the vest and goggles back. A piece of metal hung on the wall, shiny enough that he could see himself in full uniform. He had to admit, it did look pretty cool.

    Ambrose returned to the training room, tossing his old jumpsuit over the back of a chair. Charity looked up at him from where she¡¯d been slowly nodding off. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re back. That was fast.¡± She looked down at her chrono. ¡°It¡¯s barely lunchtime, and already I have nothing else for you. It looks like I¡¯m going to be up late tonight trying to figure out what to teach you tomorrow. Oh, and I need that pin back.¡± Ambrose felt around in his bag for the black box and handed it to her. ¡°I wasn¡¯t actually supposed to give it to you until the ceremony tonight, so you¡¯ll get it back then. Maybe just don¡¯t mention this to anybody?¡±

    ¡°Sounds good to me.¡± Ambrose looked at his chrono as well. ¡°Lunch then?¡±

    Charity nodded. ¡°Maybe a little food will wake me up. And then after lunch, I¡¯ll show you around my workstation. You won¡¯t get one for a while until you can prove that you¡¯re safe enough with your tinkering. All the marks in here are from people who did not have stations. You¡¯ll likely add to these before you move on to bigger things.¡±

    Charity stood up and wobbled dangerously, head tilting. Ambrose held out his arm. She grabbed onto it and steadied herself. ¡°Thanks. Now, food.¡± He followed her out of the training room and into the chaos of the invention floor once again. At some point he¡¯d get used to that. Not today though. For now, he¡¯d just watch and learn.

    Something in the deep recesses of Akio¡¯s mind stirred, pulling her from fitful sleep to the land of the living. Above her, lines of blue light shimmered, crossing around her like¡­ like¡­ she couldn¡¯t remember which word she wanted. The sky looked beautiful. The moon shone down on everything, creating the look that snow blanketed the countryside¡­

    Someone tapped on her shoulder. Who would possibly be trying to pull her from this bliss, this perfectness? Slowly as the tapping grew harder, pain started to course through her, just a little pinch at first but growing until her eyes filled with tears. The pain kept building and building, relentless. She screamed in agony, choking and sobbing. Even the tears hurt as they slid down her cheeks. Why couldn¡¯t she have stayed in the perfectness?

    Water swirled around her. Where was she? The manor didn¡¯t have any place in it with this much water. Maybe a stream? Yes, a stream. Had she fallen in? And was she alone? No, someone had been tapping on her arm. Unless it had been Yukima. That was possible¡­

    Someone appeared in her field of vision, but she couldn¡¯t tell who it was through the tears. She blinked several times, her vision focusing more and more each time. The ringing in her ears started to fade too. She started to hear a voice. ¡°Akio. Akio, can you hear me? Akio!¡± A singed hand waved in front of her face. She turned her head, trying to get the last few drops out of her eyes. Black hair. Sharp features. Sora. Sora! The tears returned, although this time they were tears of relief.

    He asked her something, but his voice still sounded far off. She tried to listen for the voice, willing it to grow louder. ¡°Akio, can you hear me? Are you okay?¡±

    ¡°I can h-hear you.¡± Her mouth felt wet and dry at the same time, a smoky taste clinging to the top of her mouth.

    ¡°Do you feel okay?¡± He took her hand. That didn¡¯t seem to hurt too much.

    She smiled, the movement triggering a small wave of pain. ¡°No.¡±

    Sora looked over at something. Maybe the way they¡¯d come. ¡°Akio, listen. The duke is going to figure out soon that we didn¡¯t die in his grain field death trap. When he does, he¡¯ll send out all his forces to try and find us.¡± He looked down at her again. ¡°Can you move at all?¡±

    She tried to move her left arm, the one closer to Sora. As soon as it moved more than a few centimeters, the pain triggered a new round of tears. Sora pulled her arm a little farther. She whimpered, the sound coming out of her mouth before she could stop it. Sora stopped trying to move her arm, releasing his grip on her hand. Fear spiked inside her. ¡°Don¡¯t go!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not going anywhere, Akio. Don¡¯t worry.¡± Sora placed a hand on her back, guiding her through the water to the deeper part of the stream. The slow movement of the water on her burns felt soothing. Kind of like hearing Sora¡¯s voice, but a physical feeling.

    Once the two were far away from the glassy-pebbled bank, Sora let go of Akio and let her sink a little in the water. He placed his hand on the back of her head when she started to panic. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Just let your legs sink. I¡¯ve got you.¡± Akio laid back and let her bottom half sink until her head popped out of the water and she stood on numb, burned soles. As good as the water felt, she was starting to notice how cold it was. ¡°Are you feeling a little bit better?¡± He locked eyes with her, his gaze full of concern.

    Akio ignored the pain in her arms and surged forward wrapping her arms around Sora. She set her head on his shoulder and let her tears flow freely, salt mixing with the freshwater. She felt him stiffen in pain momentarily, but he quickly relaxed and wrapped his arms around her. She whispered her next words. ¡°I don¡¯t want to lose you.¡±

    Sora turned his head slightly. ¡°I don¡¯t want to lose you either.¡±

    Akio pulled back slightly from the embrace and pressed her lips to his, forcing the pain in her burned face to subside. The river stole her warmth, but for the moment, she had a fire on her lips and in her heart that no river could quench.

    She pulled back from the kiss, cheeks blushing even redder than her burns. ¡°Sorry! I¡¯m sorry. I don¡¯t know what I was thinking¡­¡±

    Sora leaned forward and kissed her forehead. ¡°Shhh. Let the moment last.¡±

    Akio didn¡¯t know how long they stood there, freezing water chilling her until she couldn¡¯t feel her feet at all. Finally, Sora waded over to the opposite bank of the stream and climbed out, shivering violently. He knelt down and offered her his hand. ¡°It¡¯s going to be cold, but you can do it.¡± She closed her eyes and let him pull her from the snowmelt stream. The breeze from before that had felt so nice now became her worst enemy, taking her heat almost as much as the stream had. Akio gasped and huddled close to Sora, trying to conserve her warmth. Now that the stream was no longer numbing her burns, the pain of the red splotches started to return. The ones on the bottom of her feet were the worst, the blades of thin grass on the edge of the streambed feeling like tiny knives.

    ¡°The closest town is a little ways away. It¡¯s going to take longer than normal in our condition, but I think we can still make it there by midday or early afternoon.¡±

    ¡°Is walking going to make me colder? Akio looked up at Sora. For all his burns and cuts, he seemed remarkably unperturbed and calm. How did he do it?

    ¡°Unfortunately, yes.¡± Sora brushed back some of the wet hair on her forehead. ¡°But the faster we walk, the faster we¡¯ll dry out. It¡¯s going to be cold for a while. We might as well take the first steps anyway.¡±

    The moon had just touched the horizon as the two started away from the stream, hand in hand, huddling close to conserve heat. Akio glanced back at the manor on the hill, just behind the burned field of grain. It seemed¡­ defeated. Like she¡¯d won some great victory by escaping. And she had. Whatever it took, she¡¯d would ever go back there again. That chapter had ended. She pulled her gaze away from the past and set it on the road ahead. Whatever happened, this was a new story. And it had just begun. She glanced up at Sora and smiled. A new story for both of them.

 Chapter XVII

    Cirris felt himself start to panic, but he forced the feeling down. Riders weren¡¯t known for being exactly punctual. If anything, they tended to be a bit headstrong and not care for schedules of any sort. Maybe Rennick had a point. Cirris sat down on a rock in the launch tunnel to think. The first riders had carved a hole directly through the Spire, a rectangular shaft with the long side parallel with the ground far below and the top corners rounded out. Dragons came in and out often. But for now, he only heard the whistling of the wind. And if someone came in with news, he¡¯d be the first to know.

    He¡¯d checked the tunnels. All of them. She hadn¡¯t been there, and no one had seen her. He¡¯d checked his own quarters, thinking that maybe she¡¯d decided to play some sort of prank on him. She hadn¡¯t done that. He¡¯d checked her own quarters after enduring some ribbing from the two Morningtide riders. She hadn¡¯t even been there. And he¡¯d taken Darkcloud up to the very top of Slantspire, where he talked with her so often. Bare and empty as the rest.

    It had been three moonsets since then. She hadn¡¯t so much as left a note. The only thing that kept Cirris from flying out to search for her was the thought that Swampmist was still missing as well. As long as the two were together, they¡¯d both come back in one piece. Still, he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that something didn¡¯t add up. But he always felt that way when he couldn¡¯t find Astoria. She¡¯d turn up soon, just like she always did. And he¡¯d be right here when she did, demanding some answers. Sometimes it was funny. Not this time. Not for this long. He looked down the tunnel, following the arrows painted on the rock with his eyes. They pointed to his right, rendered in red with smaller yellow markings around them. He could be up in the sky in less than a minute, sweeping the ground below for something, anything¡­

    ¡°Still waiting?¡±

    Cirris started, blinking away the haze from his thoughts. ¡°Huh?¡±

    The man sat down next to Cirris on the recessed stone bench. ¡°You¡¯re still waiting for Astoria.¡± This time it wasn¡¯t a question.

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    Rennick ran a finger along the scar that sliced through his left eyebrow, leaning back. ¡°It¡¯s not a question. Don¡¯t say it that way. If that¡¯s what you¡¯re doing, own it.¡±

    ¡°Then yes. Yes I am waiting for her.¡±

    ¡°Now there¡¯s the spirit.¡± Rennick pulled his hand down as instinctively as it had gone up. ¡°The real question is why.¡±

    ¡°Why what?¡±

    ¡°Why are you sitting here waiting for someone who might not be coming back?¡±

    Cirris frowned. ¡°She¡¯s coming back. I know it.¡±

    Rennick raised his eyebrows. ¡°Do you now?¡±

    ¡°Yes. All her things are still here. And she wouldn¡¯t leave without saying goodbye.¡±

    The older man shrugged. ¡°You know her better than I do. But maybe that¡¯s the real reason you haven¡¯t seen her.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°If you were going to leave, start a new life, forget everything you¡¯ve ever done, would you make yourself face the people you knew best? The people you would miss the most? Or would you leave them behind and bury them deep?¡±

    Cirris scowled. ¡°I¡¯d come back and say goodbye. I¡¯m not a monster.¡±

    Rennick chuckled. ¡°Well, your soul is purer than mine.¡± He looked out the launchway. ¡°After the same things happen a few times in a row, you start to think that¡¯s the way it¡¯s always going to be.¡±

    ¡°What are you saying?¡±

    Rennick unscrewed his canteen and took a long draught. ¡°I¡¯m saying I¡¯ve seen this same thing happen before. Several times. Riders will disappear with their dragons, leave their things, bury their peers deep in the past and try to forget all about them. Some come back after their years away. Most never return.¡±

    ¡°Well, Astoria is different. She wouldn¡¯t desert us here.¡±

    Rennick eyed him. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t desert us, or wouldn¡¯t desert you?¡±

    Cirris felt his cheeks redden a little. ¡°Really?

    ¡°Really. For most of us here, she wouldn¡¯t so much as bat an eye. For you, I don¡¯t know. It tells me a lot that you¡¯re still right here.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s my friend. She¡¯d do the same for me.¡±

    Rennick picked at a dirty fingernail. ¡°Would she?¡±

    ¡°Yes. She would.¡±

    ¡°If you say so.¡± Rennick looked out at the sun. ¡°Did you check over by Seaglade?¡±

    Cirris looked at him. ¡°No. Why would I?¡±

    Rennick raised his eyebrows again. ¡°You didn¡¯t know? Swampmist was out flying solo while Astoria was in town.¡±

    Cirris¡¯s heart felt like it had dropped off the very top of Slantspire, plunging toward the ground with no dragon to carry it. ¡°She was out solo? During the fire?¡±

    ¡°Yes. But she¡¯s a smart dragon. I¡¯m sure she¡¯s fine.¡±

    Cirris was already on his feet, the whistle around his neck in his fingers. ¡°That¡¯s not a chance I¡¯m willing to take.¡± He bit down on the whistle and blew into it, covering his ears. Darkcloud swooped in at the left end of the tunnel and landed on the smooth rock, galloping forward with her wings tucked. Cirris snagged his arm around the saddle as she passed by. He swung his leg over her and ducked his head, mask sliding over his face with a flick of his head. The Spire dropped away beneath him, and Darkcloud¡¯s wings unfurled. Up, up, and away, towards the charred remains of Seaglade.

    ¡°Clear skies, lover boy!¡± Cirris grimaced at the yelled words. Now the Morningtide riders would really tease him. But he knew Rennick meant well.

    He paused his thoughts slowing while his body accelerated. What if the Morningtides were right? He¡¯d always brushed them off with a scowl or a few choice words, but never once had he stopped and considered if they had a point. He stared down at the blue-grey treetops. He did care for Astoria, more so than any other person on the Spire. Was that what love was? He didn¡¯t know. But whatever it was, he¡¯d have to wait to figure out.

    Already, Seaglade started to grow in his vision, the remains of the dockmaster¡¯s office becoming more detailed to his view. The dragon towers around the edge of the town swiveled to watch him as he flew lower, heavy crossbows loaded and ready to fire. He swung wide to the right, the same path he¡¯d taken when the raider ships had sailed in. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s try this again. Let me down. And slower this time, if you don¡¯t mind.¡± He swung his leg over and dropped down so his hands wrapped around one of the stirrups. Darkcloud eyed the beach below before drifting down. Cirris let go only a few meters up and crouched as he landed, the sand taking the brunt of the impact. ¡°Better.¡± But his thoughts had already turned to the pile of corpses on the edge of the town, right near the intersection between the woods and the beach. A man and a woman, both in sturdy trousers and leather smocks, dragged a small dragon¡¯s corpse over to the pile and hefted it onto the top.Stolen story; please report.

    Cirris stayed in the trees, watching their progress. This couldn¡¯t be the only pile, considering only a singular alpha-size dragon lay unmoving in it. Those were the rideable ones, at least for any serious rider. This one didn¡¯t look like Swampmist. That gave him a little hope.

    He circled around the edge of the town dashing in between trees and pausing whenever a pile of dragons caught his eyes. The first was the largest so far, with only one other pile having an alpha-size dragon. Cirris turned the last corner and started back towards the seashore, abandoning all sense of stealth. He had to know. Maybe Rennick had been wrong, and Swampmist flew the skies with her rider at that very moment.

    One pile on the way, this one small. No alpha-sizes. He still felt a sick sense in his stomach at all the slaughtered dragons, most of them too small to do much harm to the town even if they¡¯d wanted to. But he could mourn them when he found the one dragon that mattered right now.

    The last pile stood directly between the water and the town, directly on the other side of the dockmaster¡¯s office. Cirris dashed up to it, not caring if someone saw him. He had to know¡­

    The charred remains of the building had barely hidden this one from his view. Ten small dragons were spaced all around the two alpha-sizes in the center. One had a mottled brown scales, a faded metallic-blue frill on its head. And the other¡­ Cirris dropped to his knees. Swampmist lay in the pile, a javelin as thick as his arm embedded in her chest. Her eyes remained closed even as he placed a hesitant hand on her face. She¡¯d been gone for a while, probably days. And she¡¯d died alone. The blood had already crusted over and dried.

    If Swampmist was here, then Astoria didn¡¯t have any way to get around short of walking. Even considering that, she¡¯d stop at nothing to get back up to the top of Slantspire. In fact, she¡¯d already have been back. And if she¡¯d taken time to herself in order to mourn Swampmist, she still had to clean herself and eat. Most places wouldn¡¯t just hand food to a dragon rider. Something else was going on here.

    Maybe she hadn¡¯t been able to return. Cirris tore his gaze away from Swampmist¡¯s corpse and looked out at the ocean. She was alive somewhere. He refused to believe otherwise until he had proof. But wherever she was, something prevented her from returning. She couldn¡¯t have left like this, not without at least knowing what had happened to her dragon. She wouldn¡¯t do that.

    Cirris pulled himself up, though his shoulders still slumped. He didn¡¯t want to take anything from the pile, especially not from Swampmist, but saddles and rider gear were expensive to make. He unbuckled the saddle and hefted it off, dragging the straps out from underneath the dragon¡¯s body. He¡¯d take it back to Rennick as proof Astoria hadn¡¯t run off like so many others. Cirris walked off to the woods behind him, right across the beach from where he¡¯d jumped off, and raised his whistle. Darkcloud popped her head out from the trees in front of him before he even had a chance to blow it. He let the whistle fall back against his chest and climbed onto the saddle, patting the dragon¡¯s hide. ¡°Nice and easy, girl. Take the wide route around the crossbows. I don¡¯t want you getting hurt too.¡±

    Darkcloud trilled a slow response before lifting into the air, flying level with the beach for a few moments before turning back toward the Spire. Cirris leaned forward over the extra gear, his hands holding onto Darkcloud¡¯s saddle in front of it. Astoria was still out there somewhere. And he didn¡¯t have a clue what to do.

    Two weeks. Two whole weeks. Two mind-bending weeks in her room. Cheer looked up at her walls, each papered with pieces of parchment and charcoal markings. That picture on the right, the one that stretched across multiple parchments, that had been the first few days. She¡¯d laid out all her parchment across the entire floor. Well, all the clean parts. Levity certainly wasn¡¯t going to give her any help cleaning up, and the boys weren¡¯t coming anywhere near her. At least she¡¯d dropped off a new box of charcoal pencils. Cheer couldn¡¯t think of a time before that when Levity had done anything remotely nice. But she¡¯d already gone through several pencils. Her right hand was probably going to be stained that shade of grey from all the drawing she¡¯d done.

    In her first few days, she¡¯d somehow managed to get some of the parchment on the ceiling, but only sketches of stars and the moon. The stars even seemed to be in roughly the  right spots for someone staring up at them from this side of the mountains. But the moon, off to the left just above where the mountains would be, had cracks spider-webbing all across its surface. Not the first time she¡¯d drawn it that way, but this one looked so much more defined than the others.

    That moon brought up unpleasant thoughts. Her first memories, back when she¡¯d had an actual in an actual house with people who loved her for more than her skills. She remembered only snippets: the worn-smooth quilt, the faint aroma of cloves and allspice, and the soft flicker of the candle next to her bedside as her mother sang a lullaby. Cheer shut her eyes, simultaneously pushing the thoughts away and holding onto them. No matter how many times they came, all the more now that she¡¯d been confined to her bed, they comforted her. But they would be the undoing of the thief in her. Surely Levity never thought about such things.

    The memories always ended the same way, and each time she suffered through it just to hold onto the fleeting happiness. She remembered the night clearly, when a Surface Council member had showed up to her house and fastened a piece of paper to the door. That day, she¡¯d stayed in the house, alone. That wasn¡¯t so uncommon. Her parents had gone out to the harvest, leaving Cheer with her toys and drawings. Her father always had dough rising so when they got home, her mother could decorate the bread with all sorts of flavors before baking. They trusted Cheer to use the oven, even at her young age. She knew the danger, and how that danger could be turned into a tool to make something wonderful.

    She¡¯d mixed in bits of crushed hardnuts and dashes of cinnamon before placing the dough inside a metal oven and setting it in the fire, making sure the coals were evenly distributed between the top and bottom. When they were out this late, she usually took matters into her own hands. They couldn¡¯t get mad at her for trying to help.

    The man had come late in the night, knocking on the door first. She¡¯d looked out the small window and then backed away. She recognized his face, but only from being around the town. She wasn¡¯t to let anyone in that she didn¡¯t know well. So she¡¯d stayed quiet as he knocked again. He¡¯d pasted a paper on the door with tree sap and left, sighing and pulling his cloak tighter.

    Cheer had sat huddled in the corner opposite the door after closing the curtains, listening for the crunch of boots on loose gravel outside. The smell of baking bread didn¡¯t comfort her like it normally did. The moon had long risen by the time she worked up the courage to open the door and read what the paper said.

    This house is declared vacant by order of the Surface Council and the Engineers. For those wishing to inhabit it, please take your petitions to the Council House on the square.

    She hadn¡¯t understood the words fully. Vacant? But her parents lived here. She lived here. They couldn¡¯t just take her house away, could they?

    Cheer waited for two days, hoping that her parents would unlock the door and wrap her in the biggest hug. She finished the first half of the loaf of bread she¡¯d put in the oven, the coals already too small to cook anything else. But she¡¯d have to go outside to get more wood, and she didn¡¯t want to leave the house. So for two days, she let the fire burn until it burnt itself out. And then the cold of autumn seeped in through the cracks and the blue-grey leaves of the white-trunked trees turned brown and dropped to the ground, while the trees with needles looked on impassively as their counterparts slowly fell apart.

    On the moonset of the third day, Cheer knew they weren¡¯t coming back. Other people would come soon. They would take her away, take away all of the things that should belong here. They would even take the oven. But she couldn¡¯t do anything about that. It would be too heavy to take with her, and she couldn¡¯t stay. One way or another, she had to be gone by moonrise, or she might never leave.

    She pulled her father¡¯s bag from the other room, opening it to reveal hiking supplies. She would need some of them, and the others could come along until she learned how to use them. And she would need food and water. Her father¡¯s spare canteen, on the shelf in her parents¡¯ room, could hold more than hers. She pulled it down and stuffed it in her pack. She¡¯d fill it later, down by the stream. As for food, the meager stores in the back of the kitchen would have to do. A few jars of palefruit slices, a tin of hardnuts, and the rest of the bread. Better than nothing. She could get maybe a few days out of them. And then she¡¯d have to find somewhere else to stay.

    She stuffed all the items into the bag, but something stopped her from crossing the room and leaving out the back door. She inched up to it, her hand on the handle. It would be so easy now to just go and leave this behind. She would be constantly reminded of her parents if she stayed here. The ones who left her, alone in a wide world.

    She stayed with her hand on the door until moonrise, when keys unexpectedly jangled in the lock on the front door. Cheer unlocked the back door and pushed it open, stepping through and closing it almost all the way behind her. She peered through the crack, watching the front door and hoping against destiny that her parents had finally come home, that her father would scold her for getting into his things before whisking her into the air and letting her fly like a dragon.

    A Surface Council member opened the door and stepped into the house with his dirty boots, sliding a keyring back into his pocket. Cheer backed away from her door, the last shred of hope inside her blowing away in a stiff breeze. No one was coming back for her. She turned and ran as fast as she could, away from the house. Away from the only world she¡¯d ever known.

    Cheer stared up at the sketch of the shattering moon, eyes wet. The fact that those tears existed made her angry. She should¡¯ve been over all of it by now. The past served no purpose except motivation. Yet this did the opposite. It made her want to curl up like she had in her old home and cry until she couldn¡¯t cry anymore.

    She pushed herself to her feet, wiping the tears away and gritting her teeth. She¡¯d been resting too long. Her mind was slipping. Her muscles and stamina had deteriorated from lack of use, not to mention the striker poison. She needed to get out and do something. If she had to hike halfway up the mountain before she felt in control of herself again, she¡¯d do it. Anything to make those feelings go away. She was a thief now, and proud of it.

 Chapter XVIII

    The town no longer felt safe, even to Lillien. The house on the hill seemed to be the only place she could stay and feel free. Ambrose had only left a few days ago, but already the whole town seemed to know what had happened. That night in the glade, staring up at the stars, she¡¯d offered up a silent prayer of safety to Yukima before letting him go. She¡¯d watched him run away from her, away from his old life. He was probably glad to get away from it all, to start fresh. To get away from her.

    No. Stop that. Stop the voice. Lillien turned and glared up at the sky. Get out of my head, Knight.

    ¡°Lillien?¡± Accalia beckoned to her from inside the house. ¡°Dinner¡¯s ready.¡± When Lillien returned home the night Ambrose left, everything had been fine. But the morning after, her parents hadn¡¯t woken her before leaving. They¡¯d simply left a note for her. It hadn¡¯t been a particularly nice note either. They already hadn¡¯t approved of her relationship with Ambrose, but this sealed her fate in their eyes. She¡¯d taken one look at it, packed her things, and hiked to the edge of town.

    She looked over her shoulder. ¡°Coming.¡± She looked back out at the town, obscured in some places by the trees.

    Ambrose¡¯s mother joined Lillien on the crooked porch. ¡°You know, Ambrose used to do this exact thing. Stand, not sit, on the porch and watch the trees. I teased that it was because they would float away if he wasn¡¯t watching them.¡±

    Lillien cracked a small smile. ¡°Well, someone has to take over for him. At least until he gets back.¡±

    The smile on Accalia¡¯s face lost some of its warmth. ¡°Here, you¡¯d better come inside. You¡¯ll catch a chill out here. And Yukima knows we don¡¯t need another case of winterflu.¡±

    ¡°I guess you¡¯re right.¡± Lillien turned and followed her into the house. She hadn¡¯t been looking at the trees. She¡¯d been looking at the man in the bushes to the right, opposite the town. He hadn¡¯t noticed her looking. But after spending her whole life as the daughter of the Surface Council member, she¡¯d learned a trick or two of her own.

    The table had three settings, two smaller plates and a large one. The large one was the only one open. Lillien sat down at it, noting the two cushions stacked on top of the chair. It put her a little above comfortable height, but she didn¡¯t complain.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, but the only things we still have out are from Ambrose. If you¡¯re going to be here for some time, I¡¯ll try to find a better replacement.¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t worry about it. You¡¯ve already done more than enough. And I promise¡­¡±

    Accalia held up her hand. ¡°Let¡¯s pray first. Then we can talk all we want.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡±

    Accalia looked down at her daughter. ¡°Sylvie, would you like to pray today?¡±

    The little girl had always seemed to be bouncing off the ramshackle walls whenever Lillien visited, but today she seemed more sullen than anybody Lillien had ever seen. ¡°Okay, Mama.¡± Sylvie closed her eyes and looked towards the ceiling, her hands playing across the ribbon in her braided black hair. A blue ribbon. But no crescent on the end. A poor-man¡¯s moonbeam? ¡°Dear Yukima above, we come before you in supple¡­ supple¡­¡±

    ¡°Supplication, little one.¡±

    ¡°Supple-cation. Please bless Ambrose that he can be safe. Bless this food. We¡¯re thankful that we can be here and that Lillie can be with us. Please watch over us until the next moonrise. Amen.¡±

    Lillien smiled. The little girl¡¯s ¡®r¡¯ in ¡®Ambrose¡¯ sounded more like a ¡®w¡¯. There was simply no way not to love her.

    Now that she noticed it, Accalia had a blue ribbon in her braid too. Yet Ambrose never had a braid or a ribbon. Had he been afraid of offending Lillien? She wouldn¡¯t have been offended.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I interrupted you before. What was it you wanted to say?¡± Accalia was looking over at her now.

    ¡°Oh, right. I promise I¡¯ll make it up to you for letting me stay here tonight. I don¡¯t have money, but I¡¯ll find a way.¡±

    ¡°Nonsense. You can stay here as long as you need.¡±

    Lillien smiled. ¡°Thank you, but I know finances are tight for everyone right now. I¡¯ll help out where I can.¡±

    Accalia¡¯s smile broadened. ¡°I see why Ambrose likes you. Your help would be welcome.¡± She lifted the lid off the small pot in the center of the table. ¡°Now, please, eat. It¡¯s only going to get colder.¡± Lillien took the tongs from next to the pot and pulled out a hardened rod of bread wrapped in leaves. She¡¯d seen this dish before, though mostly when she stopped by places other than her own home. The dough was normally shaped into sticks and set in a pot of boiling water. After a minute or two, it was fished out and wrapped in leaves before being replaced in the water. The leaves gave it more of a flavor, if a little color as well. Lillien bit into it, peeling back the leaves. For once, it didn¡¯t taste like all the refined things her father ordered made each night.

    ¡°This is wonderful. Thank you.¡±

    Sylvie smiled a little. ¡°Yep! Mama does magic with food.¡±

    Accalia tousled the little girl¡¯s hair. ¡°Hush, little one. Eat your dinner.¡±

    Lillien took another bite. ¡°She¡¯s right, you know. This really is magic.¡±

    ¡°Only the Engineers can do magic. This is just skill. But thank you.¡± The three fell silent as they ate, each thinking about something different. Or maybe they were all thinking about the same thing. Lillien didn¡¯t know. But her thoughts were on Ambrose. As always. But this time, they were a bit more accusatory. Why leave all of this behind? He¡¯d had a good life here, a family that loved him. What could have pushed him to leave? Adventure and action seemed so foolish when she saw how fragile the world really was.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Ambrose, wherever you are, whatever you¡¯re doing, please find your way back home. Not so much a prayer as a silent plea. But that had to count for something.

    ¡°Aina? Would you come help me?¡± Mikhel¡¯s voice echoed in from outside the front door. Kima looked up from her books in the corner. She¡¯d amassed quite a stack, cleaning off most of the shelves in the room and in the master bedroom off the kitchen. If Mikhel had finally made it back, that meant he might know something about the University. A little of the tension in her mind eased.

    ¡°Kima, dear, would you come help us?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely.¡± Kima shifted two stacks of books apart from each other to create a walkway, careful that the books on top didn¡¯t slide too much. She stuck the edge of one of her blankets inside her current read to mark her spot before standing and maneuvering her way into the open space beyond the stacks. Mikhel was visible through the open front door, opening the saddlebags on the mule he¡¯d taken with him. Kima ran through the doorway and gave him a hug, though she didn¡¯t quite know why. He seemed as surprised as her, although he returned the gesture after a moment. ¡°How was your trip?¡±

    Mikhel handed her a loop of new rope and a box of tools. ¡°Mostly good. The city¡¯s always bigger every time I go down. You¡¯d think that it couldn¡¯t grow much in half a year. But each time, it surprises me.¡± He grunted, hefting a bag of seeds from another saddlebag. ¡°Go stack those on the floor under the kitchen table. I¡¯ll figure out where to put them afterwards.¡± He waddled over to the side of the cottage and dropped the bag of seeds

    Kima took her load of supplies inside and placed it gently on the floor under the table. She looked over at her corner with the palace of books, but she couldn¡¯t go back to reading just yet. She had to know what Honored Mikhel had found out concerning the University. Books could teach her a lot, but there were some things they couldn¡¯t teach her. And books were expensive. She didn¡¯t have any sort of money to buy more of them. This would be the best way. If there even was a way. Mikhel could tell her.

    Aina closed the door behind her, a bag over her shoulder. ¡°Would you heat up some water on the stove? We¡¯re going to have an early dinner tonight.¡±

    ¡°Of course.¡± Kima knelt down in front of the stove, pulling open the hinged door. She blew on the glowing coals, whiterock brightening and starting to flame. A few logs on top and the black metal plate over the fire started to heat. She placed a lidded pot of water on the plate and closed the stove door. Maybe twenty minutes of watching the lid and she could call Aina over.

    Mikhel came in the back door and removed his boots, placing them in their usual spot. He walked over to the closest chair and plopped down in it, stretching his back. ¡°Finally, somewhere to relax. Three days never seems like long beforehand. But afterwards¡­¡±

    Aina placed a hand on Kima¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ll keep an eye on the pot, dear. I¡¯m sure Mikhel has some things to tell you.¡±

    Kima nodded and sat down across from Mikhel. He looked up at the ceiling, as if wondering where he should start. ¡°While I was down in the city, I asked around as I was purchasing goods to see if anyone knew someone at the University.¡± He looked down and ran his fingers along a small crack in the table. ¡°Apparently it¡¯s not easy to find out things like that. But I finally found the name of a low noble who works in admissions. I met with him for a few minutes in the evening, after everything had shut down for the night. He gave me this and told me it was unlikely anyone I knew would make it in, but that they might as well try.¡± Mikhel pulled out a letter, a blue wax seal pressed with a coat of arms. He passed it across the table to Kima.

    She took the paper, her hands shaking a little. This whole idea about the University had been just that: only an idea. But the more she¡¯d thought about it, the more she was sure that was the place she needed to be. Kima broke the wax seal and unfolded the letter. A long and flowing script greeted her, but the words remained remarkably clear.

    To Prospective Applicants at the Royal University of the Sixth Spire,

    Congratulations on your aspirations in coming this far. You have set yourself above many of your peers in confidence and dedication. This will serve you well in life. And perhaps, at this University.

    Unfortunately, the odds are against you in this undertaking. We, the admissions committee here at the Royal University, strive for excellence. We admit a very small fraction of each year¡¯s applicants in the hopes that we are receiving the best and brightest into our programs; that is, the people that we feel have the capacity to make the most difference in this empire.

    Admission to this institution is not a task to be taken lightly. After a battery of tests, you will be scored in various areas, including leadership, military aptitude, learning ability, and perseverance. These tests are difficult, more so than you have ever seen. Many will not complete them. Many more will not pass. Those who do pass will be expected promptly, where education will begin without delay. Although people of all ages may apply for admission, the general age of beginning students is anywhere from seventeen to nineteen years.

    Below is the date of the next battery of tests. These exams are held in the city hall annex, off the third square. If you wish to participate in these tests, be present by the eight o¡¯clock bell. May your path be clear and your mind enlightened.

    Date of next exam: __Cycle of Frost, fourth day of the rising crescent__

    Duke Aaron D. Lembeck, Head of Admissions, Royal University of the Sixth Spire

    The date seemed like an afterthought, scrawled across the line by a different hand than the rest. But it held the exact same weight.

    She had a chance to find her place in the world. To learn more than she ever could on the mountain. And to make a difference in more lives than her own. She had to get in.

    The Cycle of Frost was the sixth of the year, marking the beginning of winter. The exams were at the end of the first week, right as the first crescent spun into the first quarter.

    That Cycle had started yesterday. The exams were down in the city in five days.

    Kima looked at the note once more, trying to memorize every detail. Then she passed it back to Mikhel. He read through it twice as fast as she had before setting it on the edge of the table for Aina to pick up. ¡°If we¡¯re going to go, it has to be within the next day, maybe the morning the day after. That¡¯s¡­ the first day of the rising crescent. It takes three days to get down there, and you¡¯ll want a full night¡¯s sleep before the tests.¡±

    So many thoughts vied for Kima¡¯s attention, trying to distract her or make her unsure about her decision. But she had to take those tests. If they wouldn¡¯t take her down the mountain, she¡¯d go herself.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, Mikhel.¡± Aina put down the letter. ¡°You just got back from the Sixth Spire. We both know how hard that hike is. And the goats need you here.¡±

    Kima stood up. ¡°You don¡¯t have to come with me. I can go myself if I need to.¡±

    Aina checked on the pot of water before speaking. ¡°Absolutely not. The mountains are dangerous, even to those that know them well. I will go with you.¡± She looked pointedly at Mikhel. ¡°He needs to rest, and I think he¡¯ll survive on his own cooking. It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve seen the city.¡± She sighed. ¡°Yukima knows I don¡¯t get out enough.¡±

    A new emotion started to bubble up inside Kima, a warmth she wasn¡¯t familiar with. ¡°Why do you care so much about me?¡±

    Aina smiled. ¡°You are family now, wherever you came from before. And we take care of our family.¡± She glanced over at the master bedroom, the doorway just to the right of where she stood. ¡°I¡¯ll go through the closet tonight and see what old shawls I can find. We¡¯ll leave at midday tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Honored Aina.¡± Kima wrapped her in the biggest hug she could muster. ¡°I¡¯ll clean up the books.¡±

    ¡°You do that, dear. It¡¯s going to be a long night for all of us.¡±

 Chapter XIX

    The ship stood in the harbor, flying the normal empire colors. No one needed to know that the emperor had gone, even if just for a little while. Hyeon stared down at the harbor and the dockworkers busy loading supplies for the voyage.

    ¡°Do you have to go?¡± He felt a hand on his shoulder. ¡°People still need you here. It hasn¡¯t even been half a mooncycle since the coronation.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why I have to go now. Those who know that I¡¯m leaving are those important enough to know. They need to have confidence that their new emperor won¡¯t hide at the first sign of danger. I have to see this through so I can lead without fear when I return. Both of inside and outside threats.¡± He turned to Nari, wrapping his armored arm around her. Darksteel wouldn¡¯t do any good on the seas, and it would end up weighing him down and killing him if he ever fell overboard. But being an emperor did require a certain level of caution, and leather did the job fine without weighing him down. Nari winced a little at the motion. The wound on her abdomen still hadn¡¯t healed all the way, so they¡¯d instead bandaged tightly and let the empress wish him off. She¡¯d be ordered back to bed the instant she set foot back inside.

    ¡°At least take me with you. I can¡¯t do anything to help you while I¡¯m here. The empire will practically run itself.¡±

    Hyeon looked out at the waters, fog circling above it. They¡¯d have to sail slowly until they made it away from the mist. ¡°I need you here. You know as much as I do about governing, probably more. You¡¯re the one that can persuade people to do what you see best.¡±

    Something flashed in Nari¡¯s eyes, a bout of frantic thoughts taking shape. ¡°Hyeon, what if I¡¯m not good enough? You¡¯re the one they look up to. I¡¯m just here to look pretty most of the time.¡±

    He pulled his arm away and took her hands in his, turning to look at her head-on. ¡°You are the smartest, most passionate, most amazing woman I have ever met. You can think on your feet and command anyone that needs direction. You¡¯ve been there for me every single time I needed you. I¡¯m sorry I can¡¯t be there for you when you need me most. But you won¡¯t need me. You can do this without any sort of help.¡±

    Nari rushed forward, wrapping Hyeon in a hug of draconic proportions. ¡°Come back safely. I don¡¯t want to be alone here.¡±

    He returned the hug. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll have Lieutenant Han and Lieutenant Choi with me. You know as well as I do that if it gets through them, none of us stand any chance. They¡¯ll keep me safe.¡± He paused. ¡°I only wish I could keep them here to protect you.¡±

    A servant in a jade green and silver tunic appeared at the top of the tower steps. ¡°Your Majesty, the ship is ready for you.¡±

    Hyeon let go of Nari and nodded to the servant. ¡°Very well. I¡¯m on my way.¡± The man ducked back out of sight. Hyeon turned to Nari. ¡°I¡¯m not going to keep you from taking the stairs, am I?¡±

    She huffed. ¡°Absolutely not. I¡¯m going down there whether the healers tell me I can or not. You¡¯re not leaving without a proper goodbye.¡±

    ¡°I thought you might say that.¡± Hyeon walked over and started down the steps, his travelling cloak trailing behind him. Nari followed close behind, one hand around her stomach and the other supporting herself against the curved outer wall of the tower. As the two rounded the bend, the soldiers standing on the dock saluted. He dismounted the steps and turned to Nari, giving her a long kiss. ¡°Please don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll be back soon.¡±

    She nodded. ¡°I understand. Stay safe. I love you.¡± She followed Hyeon through the tunnel of soldiers, stopping just shy of the edge of the wooden planks near where Lord Altingborough stood with his hand resting on his sword. Nari wrapped her arms around herself and shivered despite the warm weather. Now that Hyeon stood down by the ships, he could feel a cold breeze blowing, though only a small one. It would die down soon in the heat of the morning, but soon cold would take to the Sixth Spire. He hoped to be back before the weather did anything worse than simply get colder.

    The emperor closed his eyes and stepped onto the ramp up to the ship. Upward, onward, towards answers. Hopefully. He opened his eyes at the top of the ramp, the captain standing at the ready.

    ¡°Take us out.¡±

    The captain relayed the message. ¡°Sailors at the ready! Secondary sails only, into the wind! Drop the mainsails when we clear the dock!¡±

    Hyeon grabbed onto a nearby rope as the ship pulled away from the mass of people on the dock, steadying himself as he looked to Nari. They locked eyes, unspoken messages passing in an instant. He raised his other hand and blew her a kiss. She reached out a hand and caught it, pressing it close to her chest. Hyeon looked away from his home and towards the open sea. The mist seemed to be lifting, parting for him as he embarked on a voyage. If only everything else cooperated with him, he could get to the Western Isles and quickly confirm they hadn¡¯t launched the attack. Then he could come back and start mounting an attack on the Engineers. But mostly he just wanted to come back to Nari. To have her with him always, and then suddenly to have her gone from his side, that scared him. And an emperor shouldn¡¯t be scared.

    Astoria felt the Spire swaying around her as she woke, the rock ceiling above her moving in such a way that it made her nauseous. It felt like flying on a sick dragon. Not something she wanted to repeat.

    The bed below her felt different, too. Her normal blanket was scratchy on one side and soft on the other,  where she¡¯d worn it in. And it was a smooth kind of soft as well. This blanket was made of some kind of fur, softer than her own blanket would ever be. Why did she have this blanket and not her own? Her head felt worse than it had ever been since the time she¡¯d fallen off Swampmist.

    Swampmist. The name pulled her out of her drowsy slumber. Even with the mental jerk, she lay on the bed for another moment, trying to collect her thoughts.

    She was on a raider ship.

    She didn¡¯t know where Swampmist was.

    The kaptain had said she had a special offer for her in the morning.

    And her body had finally started to protest whatever she¡¯d drunk the night before. Come to think of it, what time was it? Her mind told her early morning, but she could see nothing to back that claim up.

    Finally, when her head felt a little better, Astoria swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. She immediately felt dizzy, like she¡¯d flown too high for too long. Get over it. You¡¯ve done worse. She placed a hand on the baseboard of the bed and pushed herself up. Her feet felt shaky and that drink threatened to come back up, but she was in one piece. Good enough for now. Now to worry about what she was wearing.

    Her priestess¡¯s disguise was ruined beyond repair. It was a wonder her fake moonbeam had stayed in her hair. The robes were much longer than they had been, stretched and weighed down by saltwater. And several spots had started to rip, mostly along the seams. The cuffs and sleeves were ruined from the rope she¡¯d had around her wrists. The neckline had also been stretched, now reaching much lower than she was comfortable with. Time to find something else. Come to think of it, where was her bag? At least she had her uniform in there. It would have been soaked with saltwater as well, but at least it was made of a stiffer fabric. It wouldn¡¯t be as uncomfortable.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    The kaptain had been one step ahead of her. A stack of clothes sat folded on the chair in the corner, right next to the desk. Astoria kept firm hold of the bed as she unfastened the robes and let them fall to the floor. She¡¯d just have to deal with the salt on her skin. Not pleasant, but unfortunately normal for someone who lived near the sea. But maybe she could get something to wash her face with. And the puncture wounds on her shoulders. Those dragon claws had definitely left their mark. And the more she noticed them, the more they burned.

    That could come later. She reached for the first piece of clothing in the stack, but something on the desk caught her eye. She moved the stack of clothes from the chair and sat down, shifting papers and pieces of parchment around to uncover the rest of the map underneath. The Spires curved in a line to the left, with the Western Isles almost kissing the left edge of the map. But the mainland didn¡¯t start mid-right-page like it normally did. Instead, the map seemed to have magnified the sea, stretching the view a little in order to fit in all shapes and sizes of islands. Some of them had little icons drawn on them, skulls or spearheads or even a crescent moon. Several of the small islands had lines drawn between them, each stop on the line bearing some sort of scribbled note. In fact, there were also islands in random places that still had writing around them. The whole map had more annotations than any chart Astoria had ever seen, even Rennick¡¯s. Some of them seemed to be in a different language as well, a more flowing script.

    A knock came at the door, short and concise. Astoria forced herself to stay still instead of jerking up and knocking something over. She quickly re-covered most of the map and replaced the clothes on the chair. ¡°Yes?¡± The sleepiness in her voice wasn¡¯t fake. She added a yawn to the end just for good measure.

    ¡°Kaptain Rin requests your presence on the forward deck at your earliest convenience.¡±

    Astoria stretched. ¡°Tell her I¡¯ll be up as soon as I can.¡±

    ¡°Very well.¡± She didn¡¯t hear footsteps recede, but, then again, she hadn¡¯t heard any before the knock either. So maybe some of the raiders actually knew the value of being quiet once in a while. Something good to keep in mind.

    Astoria picked up the first piece of clothing in the pile, an off-white blouse missing its sleeves. A few ruffles still lined the vertical row of buttons, along with a purple strip of fabric sewn perpendicular to the buttons and ruffles, a few centimeters in width and curving around. She rubbed the fabric in between her fingers. It was soft from wear. Probably something Rin had banished to her closet after years of use. Astoria slid it in and buttoned it up, noting the short length. Workable, at least. But she probably wouldn¡¯t be able to tuck it in like normal.

    A pair of leggings came next, dark navy blue. Like the color of the sea at moonrise. A dangerous color. That fit her well. A stripe of netting ran down the outside of her leg from mid-thigh to mid-calf, where the leggings ended. Also a little short. But, in this case, not really a problem. A belt buckled over the leggings, a deep purple skirt that split in the front hanging from it. The leather smelled fresh, even though the edges of the belt definitely looked worn. The color of the skirt matched the stripe of fabric on the blouse. Come to think of it, Rin had probably sewn the stripe on herself.

    Astoria¡¯s boots sat at the bottom of the bed, impassive as ever. She slid her foot into one and cringed at the slight squish. Even after several days, they still had a little water left in them. She put the other one on and tried to forget about it. They¡¯d dry off when they wanted to, and not a second sooner.

    The only thing left on the chair was a pair of fishnet gloves, probably made from actual pieces of fishnet now that she thought about it. She slipped one on her right hand, doing up the metal clasp on the leather wristband. A set of three small pearls were set into the leather, black inked designs swirling around them. Astoria raised an eyebrow. Perhaps Rin had a little more money than she initially led people to think.

    Astoria left the other glove on the desk. She¡¯d retrieve a riding glove from her bag, in case she needed a little extra rigidity, as well as her riding brace. Her waist and midsection felt too exposed without a leather barrier. And her back would thank her for the support. She balled up her salt-dried robes and threw them in a corner before unlocking the door. And maybe she¡¯d grab her cloak from her bag as well. Winter hadn¡¯t quite hit the seas yet, but it probably would soon.

    It took Astoria longer than she would have liked to make it back up to the deck. When she stepped off the spiral staircase and let the sunlight wash over her, Rin was already at the front of the ship with a spyglass. She had Astoria¡¯s bag in her other hand. As soon as Astoria set foot on the deck, Rin turned around and stowed her spyglass, a small smile on her face. ¡°Welcome to the seas. I trust you slept well.¡± Rin tossed the bag to her as she approached.

    ¡°Yeah. Thank you.¡± Astoria looked off the bow.

    ¡°It looks like the clothes fit fairly well.¡± Rin grinned. ¡°It¡¯s been a while since I¡¯ve seen that particular combination.¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯d you get them?¡±

    ¡°The back of my closet. Which is halfway across the ship. One of the downsides of having a small room. But it¡¯s a small price to pay for safety.¡±

    ¡°I like them. You have good taste.¡±

    Rin winked. ¡°Like I said, it¡¯s been a while. I just keep some old things around in case I have to go ashore and win someone conservative noble¡¯s favor. Some people find my current style a bit¡­ revealing.¡± She tugged at the bottom of her short dress. ¡°But my ship, my rules. You can keep those. I¡¯ve got lots of old things in there.¡±

    ¡°Thanks. Where are we headed?¡±

    ¡°That depends on what you decide.¡±

    Astoria knelt down and set her bag on the deck before opening it. The fabric was stiff with dried salt, just like her old robes. ¡°What am I deciding?¡±

    Rin folded her arms. ¡°Whether or not you want to join me.¡±

    Astoria paused, looking up. ¡°Join you?¡±

    ¡°I said I had an offer for you. This is it. And I don¡¯t give it lightly.¡±

    Astoria set the bag down. ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡±

    Rin looked toward the stern of the ship before fixing her gaze on Astoria. ¡°For a long time, I¡¯ve had a fascination with dragons. But no one in their right mind would let a dragon fly close to their ship. So I¡¯ve observed them from afar. But I had an idea shortly before I met Cirris.¡±

    Cirris. What¡¯s he up to now? Is he looking for me? Thoughts started to pop up in the back of Astoria¡¯s mind. She pushed them away. She had to focus. Rin might seem friendly, but she could still be dangerous.

    ¡°Dragon riders exist. But they all stage from a Spire or a small island. What if they staged from a ship instead?¡±

    Astoria looked up at her, confused. Staging from a ship? ¡°So you want me to join your crew?¡±

    ¡°After a manner, yes. I want a dragon with this fleet, both for defense and for attack. But I can¡¯t have a wild dragon set fire to my ships accidentally. No, I need a dragon that is precise. And that means one with a rider.¡±

    Astoria didn¡¯t know what to say. This could be her chance to get out and see the world. But did she really want to leave the Slantspire Riders behind? And Cirris? Or maybe he would come with her if she decided to go.

    ¡°I¡­ regardless of what I say, I still need to get back to Slantspire. My dragon¡¯s there on her own.¡±

    Rin frowned. ¡°I¡¯m sure we can find you another dragon. They¡¯re not hard to find.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not just finding the right one. Bonding with a dragon takes time. And I¡¯ve been with Swampmist for a very long time. We¡¯re practically sisters.¡±

    ¡°Alright. We¡¯ll get you back to Slantspire then. But consider my offer.¡± Rin jumped up and caught hold of a hanging rope, placing a foot against the mast. ¡°Listen up, seaweed-brains! We¡¯re heading back to Slantspire. Set a course and get us there quickly!¡± She dropped back to the deck, landing lightly despite her boots.

    Astoria rummaged around in her bag, coming up with various parts of her riding uniform. She buckled the brace around her stomach, tugging on it until it settled into its familiar place. One riding glove went on her left hand, the fingers bare but the palm covered and the wrist shielded by leather. She swirled her cloak around her, still a little stiff from lack of use. It was black with a faint pattern of dragon scales all across the fabric. She pinned it closed around her with a flame-dragon Rider clasp before closing her bag, shouldering it, and standing up. ¡°What do I do now?¡±

    Rin smiled, closing her eyes and letting the wind blow through her short hair. ¡°Now, you enjoy everything the sea has to offer.¡± She raised her arm, and a morningcrow glided down and landed on it. ¡°I¡¯d start with climbing up to the morningcrow¡¯s nest. The view is unparalleled.¡± She glanced back at Astoria. ¡°Well, maybe not for a dragon rider. But I think you¡¯ll still like it.¡±

    Astoria looked up at the morningcrow¡¯s nest. It didn¡¯t look too tall. Especially not for a rider. She grabbed onto the rigging and started to climb. Why not? She had nothing but time to kill. And maybe she¡¯d be able to take her mind off Swampmist for a little bit if she were up high again. She¡¯d see her dragon soon enough anyway. No use in worrying.

 Chapter XX

    Akio took another step, then another. Her feet leaked blood onto the path, streaks of red pointing the way she¡¯d come. Her skin alternated between losing all feeling and burning like the fire still played across it. Her left side seemed better than her right, where she¡¯s fallen on the embers of the fire. The skin under her right eye sagged and pulled tight at the same time. At least, that¡¯s how it felt. Had the horizon always tipped and swayed like that?

    She kept walking, forcing her feet to support her and keep her away from the ground. She¡¯d only survive if she kept going. And Sora couldn¡¯t help. He fought his own battle, right next to her. The skin under his eyes had started to turn colors, somewhere between black and faded purple. She wanted to help him. But what could she do? She couldn¡¯t even help herself. So she kept holding onto his hand and ignored the pain from the burns on her palm and fingers. She needed a reminder that somebody had chosen to stay with her.

    They¡¯d left the grain fields behind a long time ago, beating a path through the stalks until they¡¯d found the dirt road that led to the forest. The trees had grown in her vision and then surrounded her, blocking out the grain fields and letting her leave that world behind. But the water from rubbing against rained-on grain stalks stayed, as well as the stream-water. Each step felt more miserable than the last, burns and chafing and rocks digging into her feet. The town Sora had mentioned had to be close. She¡¯d collapse soon if it wasn¡¯t. Plus, they¡¯d been walking for hours. The sun had climbed up behind them, subtly burning the back of their necks. That would hurt too. But for now, she couldn¡¯t care.

    Her eyes dropped from the horizon as she labored forward, her wet dress clinging to her every step, scratching viciously at her burns. A wave of pain shot through her legs each time her bare feet came down on a rock.

    Sora stumbled next to her, several pieces of gravel rolling under his boot. He steadied himself before he could slip all the way and pull her down with him. She didn¡¯t know if she could get up from a fall at this point. Akio looked over at Sora. The edge of his moonbeam slowly frayed away, little threads coming loose. They¡¯d probably have to replace those when they had a chance. And his face looked pale, the same that she looked when she got sick and couldn¡¯t sleep. ¡°Sora? We should stop. You need to rest.¡±

    He kept going, gripping her hand tightly and looking down the path. ¡°Can¡¯t stop now. We need to get you help.¡±

    ¡°Sora, I¡¯m fine. Really.¡±

    He shook his head. ¡°You don¡¯t feel it yet. Not really. Your body¡¯s still trying to process all the pain. I¡¯m surprised it hasn''t caught up with you yet.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m strong. I can deal with it.¡±

    ¡°I know you¡¯re strong. But everything eventually catches up to you. Just please let me know when it starts to hit. I¡¯ll carry you if I have to.¡±

    Akio nodded, ignoring the pain it brought to her head. He was probably right anyway. And, come to think of it, a little feeling was returning to her right hand, pin and needles jabbing into her like she¡¯d tried to stitch something while half-asleep. It didn¡¯t hurt as bad as before, but maybe it would get worse. She trusted his judgement more than she trusted herself.

    Even after walking for hours in the open air, stream water still occasionally trickled down her legs and caught the dust she kicked up, the resulting sludge sticking to her and irritating her burns. She seemed to collect dirt like a lantern collected dragonflies. Through the grime, she could see the faded red of the wounds starting to turn a more angry shade as all the infections floating in the air seeped in. At least, that made the most sense. Maybe that was what Sora was worried about¡­

    The sun, now high in the sky, beat down on Akio¡¯s back, finding all the holes in her dress and scorching the skin underneath. The water from the stream had dried a long time ago, her clothes still slightly damp but no longer dripping. The minerals from the water had stuck to her skin, making her clothes scratch even more with every step. In fact, she missed the coldness of the water. It had felt nice to have it dripping on the back of her neck, shielding her from the sun¡¯s hot rays. But now everything was drier than it had ever been. Even her tongue had dried out, sticking in her mouth when she breathed. It felt like she was wading through a stream each time she raised her foot to move forward, her own body resisting the movement. Her braid beat against her left shoulder each time she managed to take a step, pressing the rough fabric against her soft skin. Soon it felt like a wire was digging into that spot.

    ¡°Akio, look.¡± A voice pulled her out of the drudgery. ¡°I think we¡¯re almost there.¡± She tore her gaze from the road and looked to the horizon again. Sora raised his free hand and pointed to the bend in the path. More light seemed to hit it than the rest of the road in front of them. Even the gaps between the trees seemed lighter. Why?

    ¡°What¡­ what am I looking at?¡± Her mouth struggled to make the words. Her stomach started to protest, clenching and unclenching in a very uncomfortable manner. She stumbled, her knee refusing to bear her full weight. Sora tried to catch her, but she still fell forward, reaching out her hands to try and catch herself. She hit the ground on her right side, the pain from the burns flaring up like the actual flames. The gritty dirt stuck to her as she rolled onto her stomach. That still didn¡¯t feel good, but at least the pressure was off the worst of her burns.

    Sora let go of her hand. No! I still need you! She tried to push herself up, but her arms locked halfway and dropped her back to the path, her cheek grinding against the dirt. She knew her legs were useless without even having to try levering herself up onto her knees. Torn, bloodied feet, covered in dirt, and knees too weak to let her walk. Akio wanted to lay there and wait for the pain to go away. Something warm started to coat part of her right side, wet against her parched skin. Pain blossomed from the spot. More of her precious blood spilled out onto the ground. Warm tears started to coat her cheeks, stinging as they washed over her burns. The pin and needles in her right arm and side had become daggers, digging into her flesh and stealing her life. She tried to scream, but it only came out as a broken whimper. Just let me die.

    ¡°Akio?¡± A voice rang in her ears. She blinked her eyes to clear some of the tears away. A face floated in her vision. ¡°Stars above, are you okay?¡± A hand pressed against her back, on the left side where it didn¡¯t hurt as much. Her eyelids fluttered and an overwhelming fatigue came over her. ¡°Akio, I need you to stay awake. Can you move?¡±

    ¡°No¡­¡± The one word hurt so much.

    ¡°Just hold on. I know it¡¯s going to hurt, but I need to carry you. We have to find someone that can help you.¡± She tried to protest, to say she didn¡¯t want help and that he should leave her, but Sora didn¡¯t listen. He rolled her onto her back, her eyes staring up at the sun. She closed them quickly, although an afterimage of the rays remained. Arms reached under her and lifted her slowly from the dirt, cradling her like she would shatter if she were dropped. Her right side faced away from him, the open air doing its best to cool the burns down now that another fire had started inside them. She pooled her strength and pulled her arms up from their hanging positions, settling them on top of her. Sora pushed himself up from kneeling and turned back towards the edge of the forest. One step, then another. The forest shade faded away and left them in full view of the sun¡¯s heat. But the heat felt nice this time. Like a warm blanket in winter. Her eyes were already shut from the sun. And if she slept, the pain might go away for a little bit.

    No. She should stay awake. Sora was doing all the hard work. That was the least she could do for him. She looked up at the sky. The clouds were wispy, almost like a fever dream. They reminded her of something. She couldn¡¯t remember what. And then, although she fought it, the feeling of darkness finally overtook her and she fell fast asleep.

    One step. Then one more. Sora stumbled down the forest lane, the end in sight. Or, well, the vague location of the end. He¡¯d only taken a few steps after picking up Akio, but already his arms protested like he¡¯d carried her a few kilometers. Each time he planted a boot, it felt like the ground wanted to pull him down to the dust. Jarring pain washed through him in waves. The burns on his left side, especially his arm, were dirty and cracked, blood slowly wetting the back of what remained of Akio¡¯s dress. But he really couldn¡¯t complain. She looked a lot worse. And right now, she needed him to be strong. He could do that much. Push the pain back, lock it away, drown it in repeated mantras. He would not succumb.

    The ring of luminaea trees came into view, the bark a dark grey-blue. They provided a stark contrast to the white-trunked, blue-leaved trees of the forest. Each tree in the ring had pink-orange leaves blowing in the light breeze, standing sentinel at the edge of civilization. He hadn¡¯t seen color like that since he¡¯d first set foot here on Tallspire.

    Sora ran a fine-toothed comb through his mind, trying to think of everything he knew about townships on Tallspire. The luminaea tree ring would be on the very edge, surrounding everything. The farmers just inside the ring tended to the trees bordering their fields, considering it a great honor. Then came the town, a net of roads that never quite went where you thought they would. The main square had a statue of Yukima in the center, the tips of the crescent on her scepter pointing east toward the Temple on the mainland. He shook his head. All that information, and not a single thing about where he could find a healer.

    He trudged along, the tree ring growing closer and closer in front of him until he passed through. A feeling of momentary warmth swept through his body, the pain receding for just a small second. Akio shifted in his arms, a small smile touching her face before she frowned again and took another ragged, drowsy breath.

    Two fields past the ring of trees, the town truly began. One-room sheds and wooden shacks rose up from black rock and bare soil. Even in poverty, the boards were cut neatly and painted to the best of each family¡¯s ability, although the color still peeled in places. It was as if the buildings wanted to blend in with the dust, but their inhabitants wouldn¡¯t quite let them. Off to the left, a single shack had been built using mismatched stones and homemade brick, a charcoal-colored crescent scratched into the stone on the side of the curtain-entryway. Sora couldn¡¯t help but smile a little. Even all the way out here, where the ground almost paralleled the sky in emptiness, the people still looked to the goddess for help. They had loyalty, and that was something he could admire.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    The winding road led further into the town, buildings of more respectability rising in place of the shacks. These had at the very least stone chimneys, with one or two walls built of stone as well. Black stones of Spire-rock cropped up every so often as well, always on the east sides. Just like the scepter-crescent on the statue.

    The road split off to the left, dead-ending after five or six buildings. At the end of the split-road stood a squat little building, its one story surrounded by structures twice its height. The smooth stone had been painted white some time in recent history, with only a few scratches marring the pristine surface. A wooden sign over the entrance-way took the shape of a dragonfly, painted blue with black and light-green detailing. Sora turned down the side road, looking around at the other buildings. Nothing suspicious, at least not to his tired, pain-ridden mind. That white building with the dragonfly would be a healer, one by trade instead of by hobby or interest. Maybe even a religious devotee of some sort. As long as they knew what to do, he¡¯d let them get it done. Besides, the sun shone hot today. Shade would be a welcome relief.

    The door to the healing house swung open as Sora approached it, a bald man in long white robes standing in the doorway. He beckoned to Sora. ¡°Come, my son. I will help you.¡± Finally, something goes right.

    Sora mustered one more step before falling to his knees, the doorway only a few paces in front of him. The sterile atmosphere from the healing house washed out onto the street, making him feel more than a little drowsy. The healer stepped forward and knelt down, sliding his arms under Akio and lifting her from Sora¡¯s grasp. She moaned slightly and bit her lip, blood starting to ooze onto the man¡¯s white robes. Maybe she hadn¡¯t been as asleep as he¡¯d thought.

    ¡°Come if you can. You are safe now.¡± He disappeared into the healing house. Sora pushed himself up onto his feet, swaying as he walked forward. Sweat dripped down his forehead and nose, droplets falling onto his shirt. The pain had started to break through its chains, forcing its way into his every thought. He reached out a hand to grasp the doorway and missed, toppling forward and hitting the stone floor. His arms lit up with the fire of pain again. He stayed down. A soldier knew when there wasn¡¯t any use in trying, and so did he.

    The bald healer returned, arms empty. He knelt down again and grabbed Sora under the arms, standing and hauling him up like he weighed as much as a pile of cloth. Staggering and hopping, Sora limped into the next room with the healer¡¯s help. He collapsed into a chair covered in white in the corner of the room. Finally, after trial by fire and the second-worst hike through the woods, he could rest¡­

    No. Akio still needs you to watch out for her. Sora blinked his eyes rapidly, looking around the room. Sturdy shelves lined the far stone wall, shiny jars and stacks of cloth sitting among small metal instruments that Sora couldn¡¯t begin to guess uses for. A low wooden table stood in the center of the room, covered in a white sheet. Akio lay on top of the cloth, her arms folded on top of her. The healer knelt down on a cushion and picked up a small whistle from a side table. He blew two high notes from it, loud but not sharp. A young woman appeared in the doorway off to the left that led farther into the healing house. She wore white robes as well, simpler than the man¡¯s, with a brown sash tied around her waist. ¡°Yes, Teacher?¡±

    ¡°Ready the second of the salves.¡± He looked at Sora. ¡°A double batch would be wise.¡±

    She raised one eyebrow slightly, the movement almost hidden by her nod. ¡°It will be done.¡± She disappeared back through the doorway, a trail of faint blue mist behind her. Odd. Maybe the pent-up pain was making him see things. He really did need to relax a little and let his body repair itself.

    Sora pushed himself up further on the chair, trying to maintain what looked like a dignified position. One of his station shouldn¡¯t slouch. He looked over at the healer, who was cleaning his hands in a bowl of water on the floor under the table holding Akio. Now that Sora looked more closely, the man had a blue ribbon running around his neck with a silver crescent pendant hanging from it. A white dragonfly hung on the ribbon right next to the crescent.

    The healer moved silently, gathering more water from a barrel in the corner of the room with a small flat bowl and a white cloth from the shelf next to the barrel. The water smelled faintly of herbs, even from across the room, but Sora couldn¡¯t match a name with the smell. The healer added a pinch of dried green leaves to the water in the mortar and ground them up with a pestle, combining the ingredients to form a thin, watery paste. He opened Akio¡¯s mouth and put the mortar to her lips, tipping it so the paste poured into her mouth. She almost spit it out before he dropped the mortar and gently held her mouth and nose shut, forcing her to swallow. He returned the mortar and pestle to the side table. ¡°I know it is bitter, but it will help with the pain. It will come into full effect in a few minutes.¡± She grimaced and nodded ever so slightly.

    The bald man lifted her head and placed the cloth underneath her neck, the surface wet with some of the herbal water. With another cloth, he began to wipe away the dirt and dust from her burns. Sora had to look away. Akio flinched and bit her lip each time the cloth came into contact with the burned skin, although she reacted less and less with each stroke. Hopefully the paste was beginning to dull the pain.

    ¡°Teacher? You asked for the salve?¡± The younger healer stood in the doorway again, holding a large, flat bowl of thick, white fluid. The man nodded, motioning to the space next to him. The young woman pulled a table over from the wall and set the bowl on it before turning to Sora. ¡°Honored One, please, come with me.¡±

    Sora tried to get up, but the muscles in his legs cramped and locked, keeping him firmly in his seat. He shook his head. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± The young woman came over to him and grabbed onto his forearms, guiding him up as gently as possible. ¡°But¡­¡±

    ¡°Your friend will be fine. The paste has a calming effect that makes most people fall asleep. And you need healing as well.¡± She helped him across the room and into the next, where another chair draped in white stood in the center of the room. His legs didn¡¯t quiet down again until he sat in the chair.

    The younger healer retrieved another bowl of water and a clean cloth. ¡°I apologize for any pain I might cause. I am still learning.¡± She soaked one end of the folded cloth in water and pressed it to his sweat-soaked forehead, washing away the soot and minerals from the stream-water. The cloth worked its way down his neck and face, leaving behind clean, sweet-smelling flesh. He gritted his teeth  when she reached the burns on his left arm, but after a few gentle strokes the pain didn¡¯t seem as bad.

    The elder healer appeared in the doorway. ¡°I have not seen burns like this since the fire in the forest, years ago. Where did you both get these?¡±

    Sora instinctively spun a story in his head, then sliced it to pieces. Better to be truthful, at least for now. ¡°We were caught in a grain fire. The flames closed in around us. We had to run through them to escape.¡±

    The healer nodded. ¡°I am sorry you had to experience that. And my condolences about the grain. Even after rain, it burns too quickly.¡± He disappeared from the doorway, sitting down again on the other side of the table so that the edge of his sleeve was just barely in view.

    The younger healer started to clean his left leg, careful to tread lightly around the burns. She looked up at him and spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. ¡°Was it really a grain fire?¡±

    Sora nodded, the movement causing less pain than he¡¯d expected. ¡°Yes. It¡¯s terrifying, having the whole world burn around you.¡±

    ¡°But you don¡¯t look like you work in the fields. Your hands aren¡¯t rough like theirs.¡±

    Sora closed his eyes, trying to tell the truth as much as possible without giving away too much. ¡°No, I don¡¯t. Someone knew we were in the fields and set the fire around us. They wanted to kill us.¡±

    The young woman¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°To kill you? You must be very important. Both of you.¡± She looked into the other room at Akio¡¯s limp form. ¡°Who is she? That looked like a servant¡¯s uniform.¡± Her breath caught. ¡°Apologies. I meant no disrespect.¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s okay. She is the important one.¡± Sora left it at that. He¡¯d probably already said too much.

    After another moment of silence, the healer spoke again. ¡°So who is she?¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t tell you. That would only put you in more danger. There are probably people looking for us right now.¡±

    ¡°Okay. I understand. I just wish I could help more.¡± She scrubbed at one of his burns a little too hard, eliciting a small wince. ¡°Sorry! I¡¯m very sorry.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine. Thank you for your help.¡±

    ¡°Of course, Honored One.¡±

    Through the doorway, Akio shifted a little, her eyes already closed again. Sleep would do her good. The elder healer laid her flat again and continued his work. ¡°Less talk, more work, young one.¡±

    The young healer reddened. ¡°Yes, Teacher.¡± She folded back part of Sora¡¯s sleeve and pressed a cloth to the burn there. The skin had rubbed so much on the fabric that it had started to bleed. After stopping the light bleeding, the healer dipped two fingers in a small bowl of salve and started to spread the white paste on Sora¡¯s arm and leg. Wherever the salve touched, a feeling of numbness and cold seeped into his arm. It felt wonderful. After the salve, she wrapped a white bandage around the burned parts. Soon, the burns felt tamed, if not completely gone. His hands were covered in white cloth. There would be trouble if he had to wield a blade like this. The same if he had to run on his wrapped feet. The younger healer smiled at him and rushed off through yet another doorway, to his left if he looked straight at Akio and the elder healer. After a moment, the man returned to the doorway.

    ¡°I trust that you have been taken care of well?¡±

    ¡°Yes, thank you.¡± Sora pulled a pouch from his pocket. ¡°How much do I owe you.¡±

    The man smiled, a kind smile. ¡°A silver each, if you can pay. If not, we can work something out. We believe health is a worthy investment.¡±

    A bargain indeed. Sora drew out five silver coins and placed them on a side table. ¡°A donation. You have been more than kind exactly when we needed it.¡±

    The bald man nodded. ¡°Thank you for your generosity.¡±

    Sora looked around. ¡°We need to find a place to stay for the night. Do you know somewhere safe and close? Preferably with a good view of the road?¡±

    The healer held up a hand. ¡°Please, do not worry. You may stay here. Full healing, at least to functionable levels, takes longer than an afternoon.¡±

    ¡°Thank you. We just need to stay somewhere out of sight for¡­¡± Hoofbeats sounded on the dusty road outside. Sora froze. Horses were expensive. Unless a noble needed a healer¡¯s services, the only reason a rider would be here was¡­

    The elder healer seemed to read his thoughts. ¡°Stay here. I will deal with this.¡± He disappeared around the wall to the front entryway. Boots hit the ground outside. Thankfully, only one pair. The conversation echoed back to Sora¡¯s ears.

    ¡°Greetings, Honored Messenger. How may I be of service?¡±

    The soldier didn¡¯t bother being polite. ¡°Have you seen two young people come this way?

    The healer paused. ¡°No, I have not.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t lie to me. I know you watch the road well for travelers.¡± Sora¡¯s breath caught in his chest. The messenger had only to walk a few steps inside and look around the wall to see both of them. There would be no running. They wouldn¡¯t make it anywhere in their current condition.

    ¡°This is no lie. I have not seen them. You may even come inside and check the healing house.¡±

    The pause that followed felt like it pressed down on Sora with a physical weight.

    ¡°Very well. Good day, healer.¡± The soldier remounted, judging by the jangling of the saddle. Hoofbeats sounded, gradually growing softer. Sora let out a long breath, leaning back in his chair. That had been far too close for comfort.

    The elder healer returned and nodded to Sora. ¡°You should be safe now. My acolyte will show you to a bed where you may stay until you feel well enough to go out on your own again.¡± He turned and disappeared into the first room, picking up his cloth and resuming work on Akio¡¯s burns.

    The younger healer returned, taking him by the bandage-wrapped hands and helping him stand. Between the burns and the bandages, his feet barely found the strength to make it through the doorway and into a side room with a bed covered in white sheets. The healer helped him up onto it and laid two white blankets over him. The pillow felt impossibly soft under his head. His eyelids started to droop. Have¡­ to¡­ stay awake¡­¡±

    The young woman smiled. ¡°Please, sleep. It¡¯s safe here. You need to rest if you want to heal.¡±

    Fine. Just for a little bit. Sora let his eyes close and rested his burned left arm on the cold sheets. Slowly, he fell into black oblivion.

 Chapter XXI

    The black rock of the ceiling looked odd with all the lines scratched into it. Cirris lay back on his bed, gazing up at his work. Rennick had said to take a few days off from flying, just to clear his mind. So he¡¯d come in here with a chisel and a hammer and gone to work on the ceiling. Not a masterpiece by any sense of the word, but it got the point across. A horizon, flat as the sea. A dragon, laying on the shore with a few trees around the edges. And a Rider, gazing out over the waves. Her long red hair swirled in the nonexistent breeze. Just like it always did when Cirris happened to glance at her.

    The chisel and hammer lay on a ledge in the rock now, unused for several hours. He probably wouldn¡¯t pick them up again. Whenever Mason wanted them back, he could track them down himself. Cirris planned to be long gone by then. He refused to believe Astoria was dead. And wherever she¡¯d gotten off to, whatever situation she was in, he had to find her. If not for her, then for his own peace of mind. And if he had to leave the Spire¡­ he didn¡¯t want to think about that, but he probably would. We¡¯ll just start here and see what happens.

    His pack lay on the chair by the ledge, stuffed with most of his belongings. The things that wouldn¡¯t fit would stay here. And some things, like that bit of leather from his first dragon saddle, just didn¡¯t make sense to bring along. Hopefully in a few weeks or even less, he¡¯d be back and in the scouting rotation again. Maybe. If they got past the fact that he¡¯d left without telling anyone.

    Cirris closed the clasp on the bag and turned the latch. He¡¯d have to land once he got off the Spire, or they¡¯d get suspicious and ground him. He couldn¡¯t let that happen. Her trail was already cold enough.

    With one final glance over all his things, Cirris closed his door and locked it, setting the chisel and hammer on the ground beside the black doorway. He¡¯d make Mason¡¯s search a little easier. But that was it. Down the hall, right turn towards the launch tunnel. His pack already seemed heavy. Please don¡¯t let that give me away.

    ¡°Well, well, well. What do we have here?¡± Cirris groaned at the voice behind him. Not the Morningtides. Not now. He stopped and turned around, giving both girls a hard glare.

    ¡°What do you want?¡±

    ¡°Looks like you¡¯re going somewhere.¡± Alaysia winked at him. ¡°Where?¡± She was the taller of the two, long black hair falling down her back. Her face looked vaguely red, like she was always cold. She wore her uniform unbuttoned just enough to let it fall off one shoulder. Pretty, but he wasn¡¯t interested.

    ¡°Nowhere that concerns the two of you. I just need to find something.¡±

    ¡°Something? Or someone?¡± Anesia smiled at him. ¡°You don¡¯t need that much stuff if you¡¯re just going to find something you dropped off the Spire.¡± She was only a little shorter than her twin, with slightly longer hair. Her uniform fell just below both of her shoulders, held in place with a leather tie from a broken saddle. Also pretty, maybe even more so. But he had his eye on someone else.

    ¡°Go fly away somewhere else.¡± Cirris turned back around.

    ¡°Oh, come on. It¡¯s just a simple question.¡± Alaysia looked around the hallway. ¡°You can trust us to keep a secret.¡±

    Cirris sighed. ¡°You two really don¡¯t give up, do you?¡±

    Anesia grinned. ¡°Nope!¡±

    ¡°Fine. Yes, I¡¯m going to try and find Astoria. No, you can¡¯t come with me. Yes, I¡¯m leaving right now.¡±

    Alaysia shrugged. ¡°See? That wasn¡¯t so hard.¡± She leaned in a little closer. ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want company?¡±

    Cirris¡¯s heart did a little flutter for just a second before he quashed the feeling. Not now, probably not ever. He wasn¡¯t the only boy they flirted with. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure. Now if you¡¯d just let me go¡­¡±

    ¡°Of course, hatchling.¡± Both sisters stepped forward and kissed his cheeks, almost in unison. Cirris froze for a moment before stepping back.

    ¡°I¡¯m not your hatchling.¡± He started down the hallway again.

    ¡°What are we supposed to tell Rennick when he comes asking?¡±

    ¡°Nothing. You¡¯re supposed to say nothing.¡± Cirris continued walking.

    ¡°But we have to tell someone! And Norie would love to hear about it.¡±

    Cirris quickened his pace and grumbled something under his breath as the twins tittered behind him. Another turn, two sets of stairs, and the dragon stables opened in front of him. A level above the launch tunnel, with large openings on almost all the sides, the stables always scared him. The dragons didn¡¯t need guardrails, so there weren¡¯t any. And the support pillars and walls didn¡¯t seem to be enough to hold up the rest of the Spiretop. And yet there weren¡¯t any cracks or missing chunks yet.

    Darkcloud lifted her head as he walked in, his scent pulling her from whatever it was dragons thought about. He ran a hand over her scaly head. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, girl. I know it¡¯s been a few days. I promise I¡¯ll make it up to you.¡± The dragon thought for a moment, then stepped forward and nuzzled him with her nose. Cirris smiled. Even on the worst of days, you couldn¡¯t frown at a dragon-friend.

    He pulled the saddle off the wall and cinched it on before climbing on top himself. Darkcloud looked up at him quizzically. ¡°I know, we¡¯re not supposed to do this. But they¡¯re not going to let me go otherwise. The dragon settled her head back down and leaned forward, stretching her wings just slightly. Then, in a burst of speed, she ran at the opening and kicked off the edge, spreading her wings. The duo plummeted for a moment before pulling out of the dive and turning towards the horizon. Cirris pointed at the remnants of Seaglade as they gained altitude. ¡°Let¡¯s go down there. Stop just a little bit before the towers see us.¡± The dragon rumbled an affirmation and flapped her wings a little harder. Hang on, Astoria. I¡¯m coming for you.

    Ambrose was beginning to wonder how safe it was to stay around Charity. More often than not, something came whizzing by her head. But each time, it missed. Maybe it wasn¡¯t such a bad idea after. Still, eventually his luck, or hers, would run out. Hopefully he could get out of the line of fire soon and watch from a distance.

    Charity slumped in a chair at the end of a row, right up against the inner wall. To the side, a walkway ringed the invention floor, passing out of sight behind the wall before reappearing on the other end of the row. Ambrose focused on the workstation. The desk itself was wide, maybe not quite as long as he was tall. A lamp on a reinforced stand was bolted to the wall at the back of the desk, right next to a shelf. Underneath the desk was a set of vertical drawers, much taller than they were wide. Charity leaned down and pulled open a drawer, revealing a set of wrenches. Another drawer held tiny spools of metal wire and a thin instrument with a glob of melted metal on the end.

    Charity smiled. ¡°Here¡¯s my workstation. Sorry it¡¯s not much to look at.¡± She closed the wrench drawer and pulled a tiny metal ball from the shelf next to the lamp. ¡°This was the first thing I ever created here. Small and pretty much useless, but I¡¯m still proud of it. The gear ratios took so long.¡±

    Ambrose took the metal ball and set it on the desk, gathering the light mist around his core and funnelling it into the inner workings of the device. Slowly, four small sections of the ball pushed outward and swung downwards, clicking into place. Legs, maybe? Now that the sections had folded away, Ambrose could see the variety of oddly-shaped gears inside. Some of them he couldn¡¯t even name. ¡°You said this was your first invention?¡±

    ¡°First invention here. But yes.¡±

    ¡°How long had you been practicing before that?¡± Ambrose picked up the ball, cutting the power flow. After a few seconds, the legs retracted and the ball regained its smooth surface.

    ¡°Maybe a month or two? I don¡¯t exactly remember. The days bleed together when you¡¯ve got a goal.¡± Charity took the ball and put it back on the shelf. ¡°But yeah, that¡¯s about it. The light works like that lens, but there¡¯s no point in turning it on when we don¡¯t have to.¡± She yawned. ¡°Anything else you need to see?¡±

    Ambrose lowered his goggles and dropped the dark lens over his left eye. A small stream of power revealed that the invention floor had even more going on than he¡¯d thought before. Almost every Engineer had something or other powered on their desk, whether it was a lamp or some small trinket they were building. In fact, someone was walking towards him with a long powered thing in hand. Ambrose cut the lens power and lifted it out of view again.

    A tall man came to a stop in front of both of them, young-looking except for the small, pointed beard on his chin. Ambrose placed him around twenty-five years, give or take a few dozen moons. The thing in his hand looked like a spear, only the head on the end had an odd shape to it. Less flat, more rounded, although the end still looked plenty sharp. The Engineer dropped the flat end of the spear on the ground, leaning on the metal shaft. ¡°Hi, Charity.¡±

    Charity yawned again and looked up at him. ¡°What do you want, Royal?¡±

    The man shrugged. ¡°Do I need a reason to say hi?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°No, of course I don¡¯t.¡± Royal looked down. ¡°Hey, who¡¯s this? I haven¡¯t seen him before.¡±

    Ambrose opened his mouth, but Charity shook her head. ¡°He¡¯s an Engineer. I¡¯m his mentor? He doesn¡¯t talk much.¡±

    Royal almost laughed. ¡°You? After what happened?¡±

    Charity seemed fully awake now. ¡°Not. Here.¡±

    ¡°Hey, calm down. I know better than that. Besides, there¡¯s not anyone important enough around.¡±

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    ¡°That¡¯s not the point, is it?¡±

    Royal actually did laugh this time. ¡°I suppose not.¡± He stood up straight and put both hands on the spear¡¯s shaft. ¡°I just wanted to stop by and show you this. I think I¡¯ve finally got it down right.¡± Ambrose flipped down the dark lens and powered it, something he found increasingly intuitive. Almost like he¡¯d just always done it. Power flowed from Royal¡¯s hands on the shaft, travelling up to the head. The rounded shape split in two, sliding back and apart. A bright light gathered in between them, visible even to Ambrose¡¯s right eye. With a crackle, the light shot out of the top and whirred up to the ceiling, where it splashed against the metal and dissipated. A dark black smudge remained. Royal cut power to the spear, letting the spearhead close again. ¡°Pretty cool, am I right?¡±

    Charity closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. ¡°First of all, you know I don¡¯t like weapons. Secondly, that mark is right above my workstation. Everybody¡¯s going to think I did it, and that¡¯s not the kind of attention I want.¡±

    Royal shrugged, tossing the spear from hand to hand. ¡°Fine, have it your way. Maybe you just can¡¯t admire art when you see it.¡± He nodded to Ambrose. ¡°Keep an eye on her. When she¡¯s not falling asleep, she can be dangerous.¡±

    Charity scowled and pointed to the walkway next to the desk. ¡°Out. Now.¡±

    ¡°Okay, okay, I¡¯m going.¡± He winked at Ambrose. ¡°Remember what I said.¡± Before Charity could get in another jab, he sauntered around the corner with the spear over his shoulder. Charity slumped in her chair.

    ¡°Who was that?¡± Ambrose glanced around the corner to make sure the Engineer had left.

    ¡°Royal. Top-notch Engineer, but a real pain in the head. I¡¯ve already told him not to bother me. Just ignore him.¡±

    ¡°He mentioned something happened before I got here? What was¡­¡±

    Charity waved her hands. ¡°Let¡¯s just forget about that, alright?¡±

    Ambrose sighed. ¡°Alright. So what now?¡±

    Charity pushed herself to her feet. ¡°I¡¯ll show you back to our training room. There¡¯s a bin or two of parts. Go try to build something. I don¡¯t care what. I just don¡¯t have anything else to teach you today.¡± She paused. ¡°Your Initiation should be after dinner tonight.¡±

    Initiation. That sounded fancy. ¡°Okay. Sounds good to me.¡±

    Charity smiled. ¡°Great.¡± She led the way out of the desks and around the walkway, taking the long way back to the training room. Ambrose kept his eyes moving all the same, watching for flying objects. Not until he was back in the training room did he relax and focus on the bins of parts. There had to be something he could at least start building before his Initiation. Maybe he could even complete something with his limited knowledge from the Surface. That would really impress them. He set to work, pulling a set of tweezers from his bracer. It would all be in the details.

    Charity came back around dinnertime, although Ambrose wished she hadn¡¯t. He could feel himself on the edge of something useful, something that finally worked. Right now, all he had to show for his work was a tangle of gears and metal wires. Maybe he¡¯d have time after the Initiation, whatever that was. Back down through the dining chamber, through the line of Engineers by the food. Ambrose looked around the room, but even though they had different-colored jumpsuits, he couldn¡¯t spot Fitz and the others. The food looked amazing, not to mention the smell. But something nagged at him in the back of his mind. Maybe the day was just starting to catch up with him. Fitz¡¯s comments about the caverns and the Pillar and his experimenting. It all seemed a little unreal. How could he have been surrounded by wooden buildings and blue-grey foliage this time yesterday?

    Charity didn¡¯t join him for dinner, disappearing until just after Ambrose had finished eating. She slid down next to him, no tray in sight. The few Engineers that noticed her ignored her, although one did scoot a little bit farther away. ¡°How¡¯re you feeling?¡±

    Ambrose shrugged. ¡°Fine. There¡¯s just a lot to process.¡±

    Charity smiled her normal sleepy smile. ¡°Completely normal. I remember my first day too. But trust me, it¡¯ll all be worth it.¡± She offered him a hand. ¡°Come on, it¡¯s almost time.¡± Ambrose took her hand and stood up, holding his tray with his other hand. He dropped it onto a stack of trays on a table and kept walking. Charity led the way to the pulleys, switching the handle to ¡®H¡¯. Honor Cavern, then. Ambrose took the handle in the next alcove and dialed the same setting, letting the system lift him off his feet. Already, he felt accustomed to the feeling, like he¡¯d done it many times before. One more thing to think about.

    Charity was waiting for him when he stepped onto the balcony above the invention floor, hands held in front of her. The pin on her left breast glittered in the light like a beacon. Something in Ambrose¡¯s mind clicked, like a switch or a gear. This was all real. Whatever life he¡¯d had before, it was over. For better or worse, whatever happened now, this was his reality.

    ¡°It¡¯s just right over here.¡± Charity pointed to a corridor on the right, almost opposite the entrance from the actual cavern. Ambrose followed her around the balcony and down the hall, stopping in front of a section of the wall on the left. ¡°Alright, there you go. I¡¯ll be right behind you.¡±

    Ambrose raised both hands, pressing his palms against the wall. His core felt even more sluggish than before, but he collected what was left of the energy miss and shoved it in the direction of the wall. The panel clicked and slid upward, revealing a thin, dark corridor behind it. Ambrose took a deep breath and stepped through. The floor under his boots lit up, white translucent panels glowing with power. Lines on the walls carried the light as well, spreading upward from the floor and ending in a line above his head. The line continued for another ten meters or so before ending in another panel. Ambrose smoothed the few wrinkles in his new uniform and started down the narrow space, shoulders closer to the walls than he liked. His boots clicked on the lit panels, another pair echoing behind him. The panel on the far end slid aside as he got close to it.

    A round chamber waited on the other side, six seats ringing the outside. The three to the left were filled by Engineers, but only the center seat on the right had someone in it. Charity took a seat on the right nearest the door. The other seat on the right remained empty.

    Directly in front of Ambrose on the other side of the room was a man holding a torch-shaped object made of metal, copper wires twisting around the outside. He smiled, his black hair speckled with grey. ¡°Welcome, Ambrose.¡± The door slid shut. ¡°My name is Shelter. I am the current Head of the Council of Engineers. In the Head Engineer¡¯s absence, it is my duty to welcome any new Engineers. Which in this case, would be you.¡± He held out the rod in his hand. Ambrose took it, quickly compensating for its weight to avoid dropping it. Definitely heavier than it looked.

    ¡°Considering your presence here and your extraordinary progress, I assume you aspire to become an Engineer?¡±

    Ambrose nodded. ¡°I do.¡±

    Shelter nodded. ¡°Place both hands on the torch.¡± Ambrose did so. The old Council Head stepped aside, revealing a black stone pedestal behind him. The top of the pedestal had a hole in it. ¡°Step forward and insert the torch into the pedestal.¡±

    Ambrose took a step forward and lifted the torch, placing it in the pedestal and twisting. The rod dropped a little and clicked. Shelter nodded. ¡°To become an Engineer, you must agree to live by the Code. It¡¯s something every single Engineer before you has done, and something all Engineers after you will do as well. It encompasses the meaning of being an Engineer.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°The Code of the Engineers goes like this.¡± Shelter took a deep breath. ¡°The heart of an Engineer is the heart of a dragon. In all challenges, great or small, mental or physical, they must have courage and determination to see it through. When things are rough, they find a way out. And when things seem impossible, they haven¡¯t yet learned enough. Above all, an Engineer is a learner. They seek to understand how the world around them works and how they can build upon it. An Engineer is a student, a creator, and a leader.¡± The old man looked intently at Ambrose. ¡°Do you promise to live by this Code?¡±

    Ambrose closed his eyes and let his tension go. No turning back now. ¡°I promise.¡±

    The torch in his hands blazed to light, bright light glowing in swirls on the surface all the way up to the top. A crystal filled with the light and glimmered in the dim conditions. Ambrose let go of the torch, staring at it as he stepped back.

    The Council Head nodded and smiled. ¡°Congratulations, Ambrose, Engineer.¡± He opened a small box and pulled out the pin that Charity had given him earlier, pinning it to the pocket of Ambrose¡¯s jumpsuit. ¡°As you strive to live by this Code, you will find wisdom and success.¡±

    A strange feeling spread through Ambrose, energy and pride and wave upon wave of thoughts. He wanted to build something, create a masterpiece. Anything but stand in one place. And yet, he had to stand still and wait for the Council Head to tell him what to do. So he forced his mind to slow a little. ¡°Thank you, Honored One. I¡¯ll try my best.¡±

    A panel slid up into the ceiling beyond the pedestal with the torch. Shelter motioned to it. ¡°You no doubt have lots of energy and ideas right now. There¡¯s a workstation and a rack of parts through there. Go invent something. When you finish, your mentor will be there to take you back down through the caverns.¡±

    Ambrose stepped around the torch pedestal and hurried into the next room. The whole space was covered with the backlit white panels like the floor from the corridor. Against the right wall, a workbench sat next to racks and shelves full of tools and miniscule parts. There were even a few subassemblies already completed. He hardly noticed as the panel slid back down behind him. He had to create something amazing, nothing like what he¡¯d done just before dinner. That already seemed so long ago. The energy mist around his core had thickened again, begging to be used.  Wherever he stepped, the panels under his feet momentarily brightened. The same thing happened when he pressed his palm against one of the wall panels. And the three work-lights mounted on the workbench required only a slight tap to blaze to life.

    ¡°Alright, where to start?¡± One part of Ambrose¡¯s mind found it odd that he was mumbling to himself, but the rest of him found it perfectly normal. It helped focus the excess energy. He picked up a set of tweezers with one hand and a thin magnetic rod with the other. The sheets of metal in the bin to the left would do for a prototype frame, but he¡¯d have to find another metal and actually shape it for the finished object. But first, he had to lay out the parts to some of the inner workings. One by one, he pulled gears and springs out of boxes and arranged them on the top of the workbench.

    Flashes of another workbench, another project began to come into his mind unbidden. A book half-full of handwriting. A stool just tall enough for him. A mist surrounding everything and watching. And a disassembled box with an empty space in the center. But what did they mean? And why did they feel familiar? Ambrose worked on, shoving the images aside except for the few with the mysterious box in them. Clearly the box had been built by a master Engineer. Perhaps he could learn something from it.

    Without even looking, he reached over and pulled a sheet of malleable metal from the bin. It went across a set of supports, little more than blocks of metal that could be adjusted in height. Several taps and punctures of a sharp tool later, the metal had tiny holes in it just far enough apart. Ambrose slotted an axle through each hole and a gear onto each axle. The spring went in the middle, connected to a piece of metal that ran perpendicular to the others. A crude box began to form, the insides packed with tiny bits and pieces of machinery. In the center, an empty space. Ambrose didn¡¯t know why, but he left the space alone, inside making every effort to confine the expanding systems to the angled frame around it.

    Time passed in bursts. One moment he was laying out pieces on the workbench, and the next a finished assembly rested in his hands. When he needed a new ledge or sub-compartment, he simply punched holes in the metal sheets and cut tabs on the edge of a new piece, slotting the two together. When he reached the corner of the large box, he rounded a piece of metal by cutting and bending it before affixing it to the others. HIs energy had started to wane, but the resolve and ideas remained.

    The box lay maybe halfway done, sliced diagonally with a frame cordoning off the central space. Each finished edge ran towards the middle of its side for a few centimeters before angling inward towards the open center space. Whatever was to go in that space would be visible from the outside. Ambrose lifted his hand for another sheet of metal and didn¡¯t quite make it, slicing his knuckles on the edge of one of the last sheets. Pain blossomed from the cut along with red liquid. All of a sudden, the fatigue of the day and his building streak crashed down on him. He wanted to lay his head down on the workbench and close his eyes, just for a second.

    He pushed the unfinished box to the side and piled the used tools next to it. The rest of the parts he¡¯d pulled from the bins and tossed aside littered the space, but the clear area nearest to him looked big enough. He rested his arms on it, lowering his head on top. Just for a few moments, and then he¡¯d build the rest of the box. He needed to know why he¡¯d built it, what it was meant to do. But even as he closed his eyes, the thoughts were fleeing his consciousness. Everything had been so focused, so certain just a few moments before. And he hadn¡¯t even known what the box was meant for when he¡¯d started building it.

    He felt a tap on his shoulder, soft and quick. His mouth moved to mumble something, but only a faint breath came out. ¡°Hey Ambrose. You can¡¯t sleep here. We just need to get you down to your quarters, and then you can sleep all you want.¡± Arms wrapped around him, lifting him to his feet. He didn¡¯t try to resist. That would require using even more energy. He opened his eyes and immediately shut them. The bright light from the room¡¯s panels was painful to look at. He settled for keeping his eyes half-open as the bright lights receded and Charity¡¯s hand led him out of the room. The whole walk blurred together in his sleepy mind, her hand the only thing that he could fix his mind on. It wasn¡¯t until a door opened and he saw his bed through blurry vision that his mind decided to actually do something. Ambrose staggered over to the soft mattress and collapsed onto it, head sinking into the pillow. Finally, sleep. His hand didn¡¯t even hurt that much anymore. Charity settled a blanket on top of him as he drifted off. ¡°Sleep now, Ambrose. You¡¯ve earned it.¡±

 Chapter XXII

    The trees around the cave hideout had definitely grown taller since Cheer had last seen them. Or, at least, it seemed that way. Nothing looked quite the same as before. A green haze clouded the edges of her vision, slowly receding as she ran as fast as she could up the mountain slope. One foot, then another. Up and up until her body refused to take her any higher. Then she slowed to a brisk hiking pace and continued her mindless, destination-less journey. Running down would be easier anyway.

    The poison still circulated through her veins, making her blood hot. Or maybe it was her anger. That burned inside too, hatred reborn. Creed and all the others had never been family, but at least they were associates, maybe acquaintances at best. She couldn¡¯t necessarily trust them, but they always worked for the good of the group. Well, maybe not Mantra, but he was special. So as long as she acted part of the group, she¡¯d be okay.

    Until now, apparently. They didn¡¯t trust her enough to tell her their plans, even the ones that directly affected her. That was part of it. But in a twisted way, she agreed with Creed. She probably wouldn¡¯t have let them go through with it if she¡¯d known. And maybe it was best for the Lost Souls that she gained poison resistance. But most of her hatred had one target: Levity. Time and again, the older girl had ridiculed her, embarrassed her, belittled her. Everything to make her wish she¡¯d never been born. And now this. Cheer wanted to grab her stupid face and dunk it under an ice-cold waterfall.

    The bandages on her right arm and calf were chafing badly now that she¡¯d worked up a sweat. The skin around the edges had started to turn red and raw. Still, she left the cloth wraps where they were. Creed might not know everything, but maybe he knew something about this. She¡¯d leave the wounds covered for now. At least until she washed them.

    The trees surrounded a small ledge in the rock up ahead, flat enough that she could lay down on it without the risk of slipping off. Still, she resisted the urge to take a short nap. Her muscles were weak enough as it was. Cheer couldn¡¯t afford to lose her mental edge as well. She had to get back up to raid condition. But sitting down for a few minutes and letting herself breathe couldn¡¯t hurt.

    Cheer hauled herself up onto the ledge and spread out her limbs, stretching while making sure she stayed away from the edge. She rested back on her hands, one knee bent and the other straight. The trees were just sparse enough that she could see through them all the way down the mountain, blue-grey foliage with the occasional break for lighter-colored rock. At the very bottom of the slope, Hillcrest¡¯s grey-white buildings were visible even from up here. Fields and orchards of different-colored trees surrounded most of the town, with a fourth or so bordering the woods. That part was oriented towards the Barrier Mountains, the tallest of all the surrounding peaks. No one had crossed those for generations. But maybe, just maybe, that¡¯s where she would go when she finally parted ways with the Lost Souls. When her soul became found? She laughed despite herself. Who would want to find her? Anybody who¡¯d cared about her before was probably dead or had already forgotten her. And the townships, especially Hillcrest, already knew her as a thief. She¡¯d have to start over somewhere. Maybe she¡¯d dye her hair. Not something conspicuous like Levity, but a natural color. Yes, that could work.

    The faint breeze rustled the trees and tickled the ends of her hair, begging her to return to her feet and join the great dance of nature. She silently declined, instead staring down into the valley. Far to the east, a foggy mist had started to rise, sweeping along in between the mountains like a slow river of white. Cheer pushed herself to her feet, brushing away the little specks of stone from her clothes. She jumped from the flat rock and slid a few feet on the bed of needles from the high-mountain trees. The way back still clear in her mind, she started down in a slow run. She¡¯d beat the fog by hours, but the covers would need to be drawn before the wave of humidity hit. Maybe she¡¯d even have time for a bath in the river before Levity made another snide remark about her smell. Cheer wished she could¡¯ve been around for the early days of the Lost Souls when Levity had undergone the same treatment. Maybe Cheer could¡¯ve returned the jabs and insults. She smiled at the thought, running and sliding her way back to the hideout.

    The covers were already pulled across the entrances to the hideout, both the three obvious main-level entrances and the one that covered the flat top of the lookout. Cheer approached the lookout and pulled up the cover, stolen fabric woven with leaves and sticks and coated with needles and sap. Fairly new, by the looks of it. Maybe Trust had finally gotten around to finishing the new one while she¡¯d been sick in bed. She slipped under the cover and replaced it, careful to pull it all the way across the ledge so that no trace of the lookout could be seen from the outside.

    Two ladders later, Cheer dropped to the floor of the main cavern. The second level was small, and it still had the remains of the last few scavenging runs, as well as a few empty boxes. She¡¯d probably have to clean that up soon enough. Or maybe she could just push it all into a corner and forget about it, like she had last time.

    Trust glanced out from his room as Cheer walked into the common chamber. ¡°Where¡¯ve you been?¡±

    ¡°Out. Where¡¯s Creed?¡±

    ¡°Also out. But before he left, he said there was some fog rolling in. I¡¯m glad you got back before it hit.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be. I¡¯m going back out in a second. I want to hit the spring-pond before the white-out rolls in.¡±

    ¡°Fine. Don¡¯t die. I¡¯ll let Creed know.¡±

    ¡°Or don¡¯t. He doesn¡¯t have to know where I am every moment of every day.¡± Cheer walked into her chamber and went straight to the wooden boxes in the corner. Shelves were hard to make, and she didn¡¯t have enough to warrant that kind of space anyway. Clothes could stay in boxes until she needed them. She pulled a pair of dark, form-fitting pants from one box and a sleeveless off-white shirt from another. These would work fine. But they didn¡¯t have much style. From the box on the end, Cheer drew a faded pastel red bodice, one or two tears marring its surface. Now that had a little style to it. She pulled two rolled-up hand wraps from a smaller box and stuffed them in a small bag, the clothes following. Bag strap over her shoulder, boxes stacked as they should be, and papers still strewn about. She¡¯d have to worry about those when she came back.

    Cheer walked back through the common chamber and down the hallway, past Trust¡¯s silent room and to the cover over the tunnel. She pushed the bracing wood forward, throwing her shoulder into it. The tunnel¡¯s end cap moved just enough for her slip by, twigs and leaves sticking out over the gap. She pulled her bag out of the intentionally-place foliage and kicked the cover back into place. From this side, it seemed to blend in with the mountain, rocks and silt covered with leaves and needles and small branches too small to use in any fire. She turned and started down the slope, watching her feet carefully. She¡¯d fallen here before, scraping herself up pretty good. In fact, she probably should have died. Just one more confirmation that this was a good place to hide from the Hillcrest Sentries.

    The fog had worked its way through the valley, starting to envelop trees on the east of the orchards and small fields. She¡¯d have a hard time finding her way back in the mist, but she¡¯d manage. And nobody else would want to be out at a time like this, so she wouldn''t have to worry about running into anybody. As soon as the slope started to even out, Cheer turned to the east toward the fog, skirting around the massive crevice in the mountain. On the other side, opposite the hideout, a river ran some dozen meters back. It wound its way down the slope and carved a path just outside Hillcrest, eventually pooling and forming a pond near the mountains. No one knew where all the water went after that. But Cheer wasn¡¯t about to hike all the way west to the edge of the Barrier Mountains.

    Towards the beginning of the river, a shallow basin had been carved out of the rock such that the stream¨Cnot even a river yet¨Cpooled there and spilled over the side in a waterfall of glorious sheen. The sun, when it sat directly overhead in the sky, warmed the water from ice-cold to vaguely comfortable. This late in leaf-fall, she¡¯d be lucky to have it only a little cold. At least it would be better than spring, when all the snow flowed down and swelled the stream to rushing with freezing water.

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    The trees all around the basin curled overhead, making a leafy canopy over the glittering water. Almost like something from one of the old stories. Cheer skimmed the floating leaves off the surface of the pool and shivered involuntarily. Not deadly cold, but not exactly warm either. She pulled a handful of white-and-pink flowers from the rocky soil and tossed the petals on the water in place of the leaves. Smelling like flowers wasn¡¯t very intimidating, but the hideout had enough unpleasant smells already.

    Cheer pulled off her grimy, sweat-stained clothing, dropping it all in a pile by the basin. She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath of air before sliding into the basin quickly. The cold clawed at her exposed skin for a few long moments before settling down to a tingle. Somehow, the feeling made it easier to focus.

    She pulled her head underwater, letting the cold rush around her completely. The ripples on the surface looked serene and orderly from below, her drifting hair trying to copy the motion. But when her head broke the surface, the wind whisked her back to the chaos. She gasped in the raw cold, her heavy hair attempting to pull her back down into a watery resting place. Quit being philosophical and get done already. Cheer raked her fingers through a layer of grime on her arm right next to the fraying bandage. She paused, pulling on a stray thread. The wounds didn¡¯t feel any different after being in water. Maybe they were healed already. After all, it hadn¡¯t been a blade, just a few needles. She cracked the layer of dried blood holding the edge of the bandage on and unwound the fabric from her arm. The last layer required a tug before it came free, taking a little of the old skin with it.

    Cheer twisted her head around to get a clear look at the dark spots on her arm. The skin around the tattoo had a green tint to it, similar to the one in her peripheral vision. The miniscule black dots formed¡­ a gear? No, not exactly. The top edge of the gear, right by her shoulder, had slivered separated from it that hung in inked silence. A shattered gear. No doubt Mantra had chosen it. He¡¯d always hated the Engineers with a passion that far out-burned anyone else¡¯s. And since he did the heavy-hitting, everyone else decided to join in the hate. The lesser part of Cheer¡¯s mind agreed; the Engineers seemed all high-and-mighty, living in comfy, defensible caves while the rest of society lived out in the open. But the greater part of her mind didn¡¯t really care. They were people too, and people always acted like that, taking advantage of everyone around them. Let them live in seclusion. She didn¡¯t want to see them either. The only ones she really hated were the Sentries, and they were just doing their job. Even if their job was to make her life more difficult. Fine, let them fail.

    The other bandage didn¡¯t come off so easily. Cheer dug her fingernails under it for three minutes, finally relenting and letting it soak in the stream-water when the tears finally forced their way out. But the cold had started to creep into her skin, penetrating all the way down to her bones. A little longer and she might not be able to make it back to the hideout without succumbing to the wind chill. She reached out of the natural basin and pulled a wide, rough piece of cloth from her bag. Normally she¡¯d let the wind do most of the work, but she¡¯d have to settle for a warmer option this time. Cheer counted to three before pushing herself up and out of the water. The claws of the wind returned, creating long gouges of wonderful pain on any piece of skin it touched. Another gasp tried to crawl its way up her throat, but she shoved it back down with gritted teeth and wrapped herself in the cloth. The sooner she was dry, the soon she could make the trek back to the hideout.

    Cheer sat on the edge of the basin, her bandaged leg still soaking in the cold water while she rubbed the other dry. Finally, when her leg had started to go numb, she unwrapped the cloth and peeled away the dried bits around it. A wide tattoo stared back at her, wings spread wide. A dragonbird. Trust talked about them and their role in the ancient myths. Levity provided all the gruesome details. Part scaly, part feathered, all fiery menace. This one rose as if being reborn from ashes, trails of burned feathers floating below it. It was beautiful in a very dark way. This one, at least, Cheer found herself liking.

    The fog had reached the stream, tendrils of mist swirling around her as she dried the few droplets on her skin that the wind hadn¡¯t already evaporated. The pants came first, pressing against her legs and covering the tattoo. They weren¡¯t quite as tight as normal. Maybe she¡¯d lost weight while sick. She¡¯d have to go find some sort of knife belt and fasten it around one of the legs to get the same feeling again. The shirt came next, missing two buttons in the front. Cheer had ripped the lace off the bottom edge a long time ago, but the roughness remained. The faded bodice went over that, the bottom slightly flared out so that it fell over the high top of the pants. Functional, maybe even a little bit stylish. Certainly not anything the girls down in Hillcrest would approve of, but Cheer cared more about avoiding Levity¡¯s mocking voice.

    The heap of dirty clothes went into the basin, where the sweat and stomach acid let go and dissolved into the clear water. Cheer swished them around a few times before pulling them out and squeezing as much of the cold water out as she could. After wrapping them all in the cloth, she stuffed them in her bag and put her boots back on. Making it home in the fog would be difficult. But that was fine. She needed a good challenge.

    Kima looked down over the Sixth Spire before turning her eyes back towards the road ahead. She followed right behind Aina, who constantly poked and prodded the ground with a tall, slender walking-stick. They¡¯d left the cottage on the mountain almost two days ago, sleeping under a rocky ledge both nights. The nightmares of the Black Knight hadn¡¯t shown up again. Which just meant she had even more time to worry about the exam, or the ¡®Trials¡¯, as Aina had called them. That name sounded worse.

    ¡°Aina?¡± Kima pushed back at her nerves, finally asking the question she¡¯d wanted to get out for the last two days. ¡°What exactly do they test you on in the Trials?¡±

    Aina poked at a rock off to the right of the path before looking back at her. ¡°Lots of things, dear. There are many different smaller tests.¡±

    ¡°Like what?¡±

    ¡°Well, they test you on geography. You¡¯ve seen a lot of maps since you arrived here, and your mind is sharper than average. I suspect you¡¯ll pass that portion.¡± Aina looked up at the mountain to the left. ¡°And then there¡¯s a history and literature portion. And mathematics and practical science. Not much by way of philosophical sciences. And there¡¯s probably another few I¡¯m forgetting.¡± She glanced at Kima¡¯s face. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, dear. You¡¯ll do splendidly.¡±

    ¡°But you haven¡¯t even known me for very long. How do you know if I¡¯m smart?¡±

    Aina froze, her head turned halfway between Kima and the path ahead. Kima froze as well, stumbling a little before coming to a stop. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°Hush, child.¡± Something in her voice told Kima not to question. She shut her mouth and held her breath, peering slowly around Aina¡¯s shawled form to the path ahead. A massive wolf stood in the way, probably as tall as her if it stood on its hind legs. It had slick white fur, broken only by a few patches of light grey. Its beady eyes looked out at the Sixth Spire, but Kima could tell it watched her every move as well. She wanted to ask Aina what to do, but her mind told her to stay quiet and watch. The wolf turned toward the pair, stepping forward slowly and deliberately. Aina stepped to the side, pressing her back against the mountain face. Kima followed suit, eyes staying on the wolf as it passed by. The breeze had stopped and the heat of the sun fell in rays from the thin clouds around it. The silent snarl of the wolf echoed through the mountain peaks. The beast passed by Aina without a second glance, planting its paws firmly in front of Kima and stopping. Its head swiveled up only a few centimeters to look at her, staring into her eyes with its own. She felt as if she was staring at a storm, a force of nature unstoppable. Shivers of fear ran down her spine.

    The wolf took a step closer to her on the already narrow path, lowering its head slightly and turning to rub its fur against her as it continued on its way. Kima stayed frozen to the mountain rock until long after the wolf disappeared around the bend. Thoughts tainted with fear and confusion pounded in her head, trying to find a way out. Aina took her hand and pulled her close. ¡°Calm, little one. You are safe now.¡± But Kima didn¡¯t feel safe. Out here in the open, where the stars stared down silently from the sky and wolves prowled in daylight. How could anyone feel safe? She realized she was trembling.

    ¡°What was that thing?¡±

    ¡°A whitewolf, dear. There are many in these mountains, though not as many as there used to be. They¡¯re part of the mythology. The whitefoxes rule the forests and grasslands, the whitewolves rule the mountains, and the whiteravens and morningcrows rule the skies above.¡±

    The shivering started to die down, but Kima still couldn¡¯t hold her hands still. ¡°What¡¯s so mythological about them?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re said to be Yukima¡¯s eyes and ears in the natural world, preserving what still exists of it. Killing one is bad, bad luck. But show kindness to them, and you¡¯ll find good fortune.¡± Aina let go of Kima and planted her walking pole on the path ahead. ¡°Come. There¡¯s still a ways to go yet.¡±