“Smell that air, Calen! Feels nice, doesn’t it?”

  Everything was so bright here. Why was there so much light? From atop his father’s shoulder, Calen peeked through his fingers. The light had come so suddenly when they had passed the… what did his father call it? Barrier? That thing his father said was all around The Merchants’ Ring, keeping all the bad things from home out.

  “It smells funny here, Dad,” Calen said, his nose scrunched up. “What is that?”

  Harlan chuckled, clapping both his hands on Calen’s knees before tugging excitedly on his legs. He filled his lungs to the brim.

  “That’s clean air, son. No smoke, no fumes, and clear ceiling all the way up. It’s almost like going outside. The air is fresh, the sun, or whatever they call it in here, is shining, and the streets are all on the ground. That’s where they are supposed to be, you know.”

  “I don’t like it. It’s weird.”

  “You’ll learn to like it, son. This is how it’s supposed to be.”

  Calen’s eyes darted all around them as his father took him through the wide streets. The ground was filled with stones here, not wood or dirt. He looked up. There was nothing up there. Like in The Yards, but different. His eyes fell on one of the pillars. It was empty.

  “Dad, why is no one living up there?” His father didn’t answer right away.

  “It is not something I can explain to you. Not right now,” he said. His voice was sad. Calen furrowed his brow.

  “Why not?”

  “Because the question shouldn’t be why no one is living up there. The question should be: ‘Why do you think it’s normal that they would?’” Calen didn’t understand. His father took a deep breath.

  “You will understand some day, son. I promise. Someday it will all make sense—although when it does, you’ll wish it didn’t.”

  Calen didn’t say anything more. He was sure that if he thought hard enough about it, he would figure it out. But before he managed to, his father tugged on his leg.

  “But don’t worry about all that, son. We’re almost there. Do you remember what we needed to buy?”

  “Uhm…” Calen squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember what his father had said earlier.

  “Rope… and uh… straps and… Wow…!” Calen’s eyes widened as they turned a corner into a street that was even wider than the ones they came from. Calen was used to seeing all kinds of people in The Gutters. But this place was different. Here, it wasn’t the narrow streets that made it difficult to get anywhere, it was the number of people. They filled the street, flowing like water between the booths and storefronts. Humans, Elves, Dwarfs, Halflings, like he was used to in The Gutters, but also Dragonborn, Gnomes, Tieflings, and—some kind of humanlike cat. She was looking at pottery.

  A deep whoomph behind him drew his attention. Calen jerked and grabbed his father’s hair tightly as a massive gust of wind slammed into him. A large birdman flashed by overhead. His wings thumped with powerful strokes, blowing off hats and rustling banners.

  “What do you think, son? It’s not quite like back home, is it?”

  Calen didn’t answer. His eyes were fixed on the booths. He had never seen so much food in his life. Stonebread, Dritfish Skewers, Gutter Cakes, and a lot of things he didn’t recognize. He couldn’t read the signs, but he could smell honey, meats, whisps, and Glownuts.

  “Dad?”

  —

  Ten minutes later, they walked through the double doors of a red-stoned building with a large sign that said, “Brick and Barrel”. A little bell above the door announced their arrival. Calen was gnawing eagerly on his Snaproot Stick, a caramelized root slice with a crunchy shell and sticky, sweet sap inside.

  The shop was filled with everything from boxes of nails to lanterns and ladders. In the large storefront windows were mannequins with cloaks and backpacks. All the items were displayed in neat rows throughout the store.

  Letting go of Calen’s hand, Harlan left him in front of a display case with various maps inside and headed towards the counter.

  “Harlan!” boomed a deep voice behind the counter. A broad-shouldered man stepped through a doorway, his arms already open. He swept Harlan into a hug that lifted him off the ground.

  “So good to see you, my friend!”

  “Thank you, Vorin.” Harlan laughed as he was released. “The place looks amazing. How did the grand opening go?”

  “Couldn’t have gone better. There was a line out the door. We didn’t make much with all the discounts we offered, but the exposure was worth it. Come on, let me show you around.”

  They strolled through the aisles, Vorin’s calloused hand resting on Harlan’s shoulder.

  “Here we have the household essentials—candles, paper, cutlery, what have you. Tools are this way. Adventurer’s gear over here, and…”

  As they rounded the corner, Vorin stopped in his tracks. At the foot of the display case was Calen, nestled between maps sprawled across the floor, connected by long, thin strings of sticky sap. Above them, the Snaproot stick balanced precariously on the edge of the glass case, sap pooling on the ground beneath.

  Harlan dashed forward and pulled Calen out of reach of the maps.

  “I am so sorry, Vorin. I will replace those, of course.”

  “Nonsense! I won’t hear of it.” Vorin knelt in front of Calen, stroking his beard. “Now, young man. You seem to have gotten yourself into quite a sticky situation, haven’t you?”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Calen looked down at his hands. His fingers stuck together when he opened and closed his hands. He looked up to see Vorin smiling down on him.

  “I have a boy your age, you know. He also likes Snaproots. Do you see that door over there? Behind the counter. If you go through that and go upstairs, you will find my wife, Merinda. She will help you get cleaned up.”

  After an approving nod from his father, Calen turned around and went towards the counter. He made sure to hold his hands out in front of him to make sure that they didn't touch anything else.

  The hallway behind the counter was dark. The only thing inside it was a staircase. He looked up. At the top, a streak of light shone through the gap of a half-closed door.

  Going up the stairs without touching anything was difficult. Shambling up one step at a time, he focused all this attention on keeping his hands in view. At one point, though, he had to put his hand on the wall to keep his balance. He left behind a sticky handprint. Maybe they wouldn't notice?

  -

  "So, how did you and Thane get along?" Harlan asked. He and Calen were walking down the streets, hand in hand. They were back in The Gutters after spending the whole day at Brick and Barrel. Harlan and Thane's father had been downstairs the whole time, until Thane's mother called them up for dinner.

  "He is so much fun! We played Walltag and Hookhands and Roof Run..."

  "Did you now? And where exactly did you play Roof Run?"

  Calen hesitated. He didn't want to meet Harlan's eyes.

  "Calen?"

  "We... Uhm... We climbed out his window."

  "You climbed out the window?" Harlan grinned. "How did you manage that? I thought Vorin had locked that window, precisely to keep Thane from climbing out of it."

  Calen flushed.

  "He... Uhm... He can open it. He has this metal thing and he... He jams it inside the lock, and it opens."

  "Really? That's quite impressive for his age. And did he tell you that he wasn't supposed to go out the window?"

  Calen didn't answer. He kept looking down as they walked the narrow streets.

  “Yes.”

  “I see…” Harlan stopped and knelt to Calen’s eye level. “Look, Calen. I don’t mind you running around on the roofs here at home. When Vorin lived here, he didn’t mind Thane doing it either. But the houses in the central ring are bigger than they are here. That’s why he’s told Thane not to do it anymore. The roofs in there are only built to look pretty, not to hold any weight like they are here.” Harlan put both his hands on Calen’s shoulders and kept eye contact.

  “So, it’s much more likely that you fall down from the roofs in there than it is here, and if you do fall, you fall from a much greater height. I know Thane likes to do things he’s not allowed to, and I won’t forbid you from doing anything. But promise me that next time you go there, you will be careful. All right?”

  “I promise, Dad!” Calen nodded determinedly; his lips taut. He had a serious expression on his face.

  “That’s my boy!” Harlan stood and took Calen’s hand as they started walking again.

  “Maybe you can be a good influence on him. Hmm?”

  Calen didn’t answer. Thoughts were flooding his head. He had seen so many new things today. He recognized the street they were walking on. They were almost home. As he walked, he leaned back and looked up through the many other levels of streets above this one. He had never thought it odd that the streets were layered, one on top of the other. But in The Merchant’s Ring, there had only been one street, on the ground floor. Nothing above it. Now that he thought about it, the houses had been bigger there. And further apart, too. Not scrunched up against each other like here.

  They passed an old man hunched on the ground outside his home—a small rickety mess of boards and planks. Above it, and to both sides, were several other homes that looked similarly crooked and worn. For some reason, this bothered Calen now. Before today, it had just seemed normal. He didn’t understand what had changed.

  “Harlan, there you are.”

  Calen hadn’t realized that they were already home. A man was sitting on their doorstep. He rose and handed Harlan something that looked like a bunch of straps.

  “The anchor strap tore today. Can you fix it? I really need it for tomorrow.”

  Harlan put down the crate he was carrying and lifted some of the straps to his eyes.

  “Hmm… Looks like the fastening buckle is warped. It’s gnawing on the straps. The tension harness is frayed, too.” He threw the bundle of straps down on the crate he had placed earlier, then picked up the crate.

  “Luckily, I just stocked up on supplies. Come on in.” He unlocked the door and went inside. Calen followed, and the man entered last. He closed the door behind them.

  “You’re a lifesaver, Harlan. I was worried I’d have to use one of the docking company’s harnesses tomorrow.”

  Harlan heaved the crate onto his workbench inside with a heavy thud.

  “Yeah, those are no good.” He swept his arm across the surface of the cluttered table, clearing a space. Sitting down on a small stool, he dropped the bundle of straps and turned on a small lantern. He pulled out assorted tools and began working. Calen had sat down in the one good chair and watched his father work.

  Harlan looked up from the straps.

  “So, how many trips per day do you need to make now?” His eyes were kind, but he looked worried as he asked. The man sighed.

  “15…”

  Harlan grimaced, inhaling through his teeth.

  “Ooff…”

  “Tell me about it. It would be impossible if I had to use the company’s harnesses. But with yours—it’s doable.”

  “Doable, perhaps. But not sustainable. You are going to wear yourself out like that. How long until your debt is paid?”

  “11 months…”

  Harlan sighed, then shook his head.

  “Henry…”

  “I know Harlan… But what else can I do? The only other kind of work that pays better around here is…”

  “Yes, yes… I know.”

  Harlan sat for a moment. He chewed a bit on his lip. Then he took a deep breath and returned to his work.

  “11 months… 6 days a week… That’s what? 250 workdays? Give or take.”

  Henry just shrugged. Harlan kept working.

  “I might be able to find someone who could take one trip on for you every day. Maybe even two.”

  At this, Henry’s eyes widened. He leaned forward, resting his hands on the table.

  “You could do that? Really? That would mean…”

  “Before you get too excited, you’d need to cover a shift every day at The Flask. Morgan has been asking around for help: Manning the bar, mopping the floors, doing the dishes. That kind of work. If you, or maybe one of your sons, could handle that, I could get him to let some of his regulars work off their tabs by covering a trip for you.”

  “Harlan, that would mean the world to me. I could help Sabrine with the baby. And if Morgan would let James take the shift for me, I could still run the extra trip and pay off the debt sooner.”

  Harlan stood, lifting the harness to the light, and examined it closely.

  “Alright then. That should about do it. Turn around and let’s test it out.”

  Harlan spent a couple of minutes pushing and pulling on the harness on Henry’s back.

  “Now, how’s that?”

  “It’s perfect, Harlan. Thank you so much.” He turned around to face Harlan, reaching into his pouch.

  “How much do I owe you?”

  “Forget it, Henry. I’m not taking your coin. But Jasrik covered for Emden last summer after he took that nasty fall. Now he needs someone to help fix a railing on his walkway. Do you think you could take a look at that?”

  “Absolutely, Harlan. I will go there the first time someone covers a trip for me.”

  After giving Harlan a big hug, he went for the door.

  “Thank you, my friend. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

  The door closed, and Harlan slumped down on the stool. Beside him, Calen finally rose from the chair. He went to his father.

  “Dad?”

  “Yes, Calen?”

  “Why do people always ask you to fix things?”

  Harlan looked down at Calen. He was standing beside his father, his hands on Harlan’s legs, looking back up at him. Harlan put his arm around him.

  “That’s because they can’t do it themselves.”

  “But you can?”

  “Yes. My father was an artificer. He could fix all kinds of things. He also built and invented a whole bunch of new things. I learned a lot from him. That’s why I can fix things for people here.”

  Calen rested his head on Harlan’s thigh.

  “Will you teach me to fix things, too? So, I can help people like you do.”

  “Would you like that?”

  “I think so. I think it’s nice to help people.”

  Harlan lifted Calen and held him in his lap. Calen rested his head against his father’s chest as Harlan embraced him. As Calen closed his eyes and started to drift off, Harlan looked up at a small painting on the wall. The inscription underneath read “Kiara”.

  “So do I, son.” He said as he smiled at the painting.

  “So do I.”