Elsa brought Finn a bowl of stew while Noak changed for the journey. She held out the meal. “Do you need help?”

“No,” he said. “If I get tired, I’ll put it down.”

She helped him into a sitting position and retreated to the nearby stool to give him room.

“Try to eat it all. According to my uncle, it’s a long way to the surface. Though, I guess you already know that.”

Elsa lingered at the boy’s bedside in case he needed her. Finn ate slowly. She dug into her pocket. His gaze shifted from his bowl to her fingers, which had begun nervously winding and unwinding a piece of thread.

“We’ll take care of him,” Finn said, finally, after watching her repeat the motion several times. “I swear your uncle will be safe with us.”

She couldn’t help smiling at his confidence. “You can’t promise something like that.”

He returned to eating. Elsa followed the slow motion of the spoon to Finn’s mouth. He swallowed the thick stew and rested for a moment.

“You’re right, I can’t promise. But I trust Noak. He’ll protect Amos.”

Elsa was surprised to find she also trusted the Blood Wolf. If anyone could keep her uncle from harm, it was him.

“Noak showed me some of his power,” she said. “He healed himself in front of me. He said you have the same ability.”

The spoon wavered before Finn’s face. “Yes.”

Elsa gestured to the long row of stitches visible down one of Finn’s arms. “Then why haven’t you healed?”

“Because, it doesn’t work that way.”

“It doesn’t?”

The boy turned thoughtful. “We call it the Source, but it’s a reservoir we draw upon, not an endless supply of power. There are limits and I went over mine. Now I must wait until the reservoir refills.”

Elsa nodded. Finn’s words fit with the information Noak had shared. “You almost died, so I’m not surprised this Source ran out.”

“I shouldn’t have done it,” Finn admitted in a whisper. “I was lucky. Very lucky, Elsa. I lost control. Normally, there are dire consequences for Blood Wolves who draw on the Source as heavily as I did.”

“Consequences worse than death?” Elsa asked.

Finn nodded solemnly.

Elsa was filled with curiosity. He was a strange little thing, this boy before her. There were so many questions she wanted to ask.

“Your uncle is back.” Finn tilted his head towards the curtain. “He wants you.”

A moment later, Elsa heard her uncle call out her name.

She let her curiosity drop. “Will you be alright here?”

“Yes.” And to prove it, he swallowed another mouthful of stew.

***

Elsa returned to the workshop. Noak stood before the fire, once more dressed in his Smoker clothing.

“Where did you find those?” Elsa asked.

He glanced down at his garments and grimaced. “I bought them from some cranky shop owner in the Alley.”

Elsa smiled at his description. “Rusty?”

“That was the man. He overcharged me, I’m sure.”

“The arm and collar of your shirt are torn,” Elsa said. “I can fix them for you, if you like?”

“No time,” her uncle said from over near the workbench. “We’ll give him one of our coats to cover up the damage.”

Her uncle cleared a space at the table and pulled several dark inkpots and brushes from her paint kit. He placed two stools side by side. “Okay, Elsa, you’re up.”

It took her a moment to realise her uncle’s intentions.

“No,” she said.

“You told me the guards are watching my movements,” her uncle said.

Elsa nodded. She remembered the map in the Guardhouse with its carvings of her uncle and the Little Kings.

“Well, we need to do everything we can to make this expedition seem real. The permit is for Bad Seed 271, so Noak must become Bad Seed 271.”

“No one is going to believe that,” Elsa said, looking at Noak’s broad shoulders and upright stance.

“I fooled the guards once before,” Noak reminded her.

“Yeah, but now they’re looking for you. And, Uncle, it’s well known that you travel alone. How will you explain your new assistant?”

“I won’t need to explain,” Amos said. “The Keeper’s word is law, and she has given her blessing for this trip.”

Elsa started to protest.

“There is no other option, Elsa,” Amos said. “If there was, we’d take it. We need to go while Melker’s attention is on the Darkzone and the not the surface entrance. Now,” he gestured to the paint pots, “stop stalling.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and added a determined shake of her head. “It’s a hateful mark. I won’t do it.”

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“I’m not asking you to tattoo his skin, Elsa. It’s only temporary. The mark will wash away in a couple of days or so.”

“Do it.” Noak lowered himself onto one of the stools.

He turned his wrist face up on the table. Amos pushed the kit towards her. Elsa sighed in resignation and sat. She pulled Noak’s arm closer, until she held his forearm beneath her palm.

“Don’t move,” she said.

Noak’s voice was uneven, “Don’t you want to study your tattoo first?”

Elsa removed the lid from the pot. “I’ve studied this mark every day for more than a decade. I know it better than I know my own face.”

She wiped Noak’s wrist clean with a damp cloth. The muscles in his arm twitched.

“Ready?”

She wet the brush and dipped it into the black ink. Head bent over his forearm, she began the design, starting with the gnarled, rotting trunk.

“Why is this mark such an insult?” Noak asked.

Her uncle saved her from answering.

“It’s the opposite of the symbol of Haven—the great tree of knowledge and life,” Amos said. “It’s a decaying tree grown from a bad seed. A diseased tree with nothing to contribute.”

Elsa dabbed at a drip on his arm. “It’s Haven’s way of reminding us we are weak and unworthy of the bright future they are building.”

Her uncle began packing his travel satchel and moved deeper into the workshop. Noak leant in closer. “You’re not weak.”

She completed a curving tree root before she answered. “I am. I’m always afraid.”

Noak made a sound of disagreement. “You helped me, even though I’m a Blood Wolf. You rescued Finn, at great danger to yourself. You may carry fear within you, but you are strong when you need to be.”

His words ignited a warmth inside her and brought a tiny smile to her lips. Elsa bent further over Noak’s wrist, so he wouldn’t see.

***

Noak shifted on the stool. The touch of Elsa’s fingertips on his arm was a strange agony. She tilted her head and exposed the pale column of her neck. Her full mouth tightened at the corner while she concentrated. Elsa added another black line to the pattern and gave a dissatisfied sigh. Her breath tickled the skin along his arm. Noak clenched his jaw tighter, and she looked up. He forced himself to relax.

“I’m sorry, if I made you uncomfortable before.” Elsa completed another limp branch with a practiced brushstroke. “Of course you’re not Nicholas. He’s on the Farm, living the life we all hope to lead one day. It was silly of me to suggest it…”

She finished another line. “It’s just, I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed him until I thought he was back.” Elsa shook her head. “Like I said, silly.”

She held her wrist against his own. The tattoos were almost identical.

“There! Not bad, even if it is a horrid thing. It just needs to dry.”

Amos poked his head through the red curtain. Noak withdrew his wrist from Elsa’s hand and rose to his feet. He stepped away from the bench, putting much-needed distance between them.

“Elsa,” Amos said, “you need to go. The shift change is soon. I don’t want you caught outside after curfew, especially since the guards are looking for reasons to haul people in for interrogation.”

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving now.”

The curtain fell back into place. Elsa’s stool scratched against the stone as she stood. She started clearing up the mess on the workbench.

Noak cleared his throat. “Elsa, I want you to know I haven’t forgotten my promise.”

She paused in her work.

“I will find a way to return and fulfil my side of the bargain.”

“Thank you,” Elsa said, but her voice was flat. She knew he was lying. The reality was they would never see each other again.

She folded the drip cloth and glanced at the nearest clock. “I should go.”

Noak didn’t want her to leave.

When Elsa turned towards her things, he stepped into her path. She stared back at him, her stance wary, and suddenly Noak wanted to share something with her, a small truth at the very least.

“Before you go…will you also listen to my tale?”

Elsa inclined her head.

Noak had told hundreds of stories over the years to Finn, some from his life, some from the books he’d read and other’s straight from his imagination, but now he felt clumsy and tongue-tied.

“There was once a boy who lived in a safe place,” he began. “Every day his mother and father would tell him how lucky he was to have such a home. He felt lucky. He went to lessons and played with friends. He read books filled with brilliant stories about beasts and heroes, and others which told him about the world before the Chaos, at times seeming just as fantastical. He lived in the light. He was happy.”

Noak searched for a way to share the next part of his story. Elsa waited patiently for him to continue.

“Then one day, the head of his parent’s guild visited. The man asked the boy questions from his lessons and tested his health. At the end of their long conversation, he handed the boy a medallion stamped with an oak tree and ruined his life with one short sentence: You are Chosen.”

Elsa’s breath hitched, as he confirmed her suspicions.

“From that moment on, everything changed. Everyone looked through him. His parents, friends and educators, they smiled in his direction, but their eyes slid past him. The boy was a ghost, no matter what he did.”

Noak cleared his throat.

“Then, one night, the lonely boy heard crying coming from the apartment next door. It was a sound he understood well. He climbed across the balcony and found a girl who’d also been forgotten by those around her.”

He closed more of the distance, until there was a hand span between them, nothing more. He held himself still, so as not to scare her.

“You said the boy saved you, but it’s not true. It was the other way around and he has not forgotten, Elsa, he will return. He will find a way back to repay this great debt.”

They were both frozen, suspended in a moment neither of them wanted to break. Noak heard Elsa release her breath and he waited for her to reject his promise. He expected her to run or at least place some distance between them. Instead, Elsa lifted herself onto her toes until they were face to face.

“I missed you, Nicholas” she said, her mouth a hair’s breadth from his. “More than you could ever know.”

She kissed him.

Noak’s shock kept him motionless. Then he groaned and his hands slid around to the small of her back. He pressed her against his body. Elsa put her arms around his neck, so she too could pull him nearer. He tightened his grip and enfolded her in his arms. He clung to her warmth and her smell.

There was no space between them and this closeness felt right. It felt righter than anything that had happened to him in a very long time. Noak forgot himself. The sounds of the workshop faded. His worries and cares disappeared. It was just the two of them.

Elsa broke away first. “My uncle,” she explained.

He heard the old man’s whistling. The curtain rustled and Elsa stumbled back to her workbench. Noak retreated to the fire and wondered how he could have given up his focus and control. The old man walked through a moment later. The whistled tune stopped.

“Elsa! You’re still here?” Amos headed straight towards the sleeping alcove with a spare jacket in his hands.

“I’m going,” she said, her breath heavy, her cheeks red.

She picked up her basket.

“Good luck, Noak.” She refused to meet his eyes. “Keep safe.”

Elsa didn’t wait to hear his reply. She hurried up the hallway, leaving him behind.

Noak glanced at the painted tattoo on his wrist. “Goodbye, Elsa.”

***

“Elsa, you will never return to Haven.” The sentence left a foul taste in Amos’ mouth. “The Day Port is better than the Chimney. I believe we can negotiate for your mother to move there, in time. The Keeper has been very generous with this offer. All we have to do is spy on these Blood Wolves and…”

Amos threw up his hands. He couldn’t tell Elsa, not yet. Emotions were too high and the danger too close. It was clear she cared for these two newcomers, especially the older one, and would be unlikely to betray them.

He decided he needed to be patient and choose the right moment. When the Blood Wolves had gone there was a chance Elsa’s…attachment would no longer cloud her perspective. Amos would lay it all out before her, calm and logical, and let her decide what they would do next.

He shrugged on his jacket. The Blood Wolf appeared from the sleeping alcove, his arm around Finn’s shoulder. The young boy seemed better, though a slight tremor showed in his legs as he walked and each time Noak’s fingers touched the boy’s skin, he flinched. “We’re ready.”

Amos nodded. “Let’s get this over with.”