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.”