Haven was unusually quiet. The citizens were at work within their guilds. The Light Well’s balconies and walkways were unoccupied, and the only movement above came from trickling fountains and banners fluttering in the breeze from ventilation shafts.

The Smokers, who normally serviced the city during the day, were absent too. The closure of the Night Port had left them stranded on the dark side of the lake and the city seemed noticeably emptier without them.

With so few people in the city square, Amos let his gaze wander. He had an uninterrupted view of the Sunlight Clock, the Keeper’s statue at the heart of the square and the guild houses ringing the ground floor of the Light Well.

He paused and took a moment to admire the four guilds. In Haven, the Keeper’s word was law, but the Chambers of Commerce, Science, Arts and Engineering held power in their own right. Even the Light Well was divided in a way that demonstrated their importance, with the entrances to the Keeper’s apartment and these four guilds evenly spaced apart like the tips of a five-pointed star.

A distinct stone archway marked each association: The Commerce Guild had an entrance carved with balance scales and lumiere coins, reflecting their administrative role; the Science Guild, always looking to better the future, had an archway engraved with a dragon consuming its own tail; the Arts Guild, charged with Haven’s entertainment, had selected an exotic bird with superbly rendered feathers; and the Engineers’ Guild, custodians of Haven’s infrastructure, had a simple arch of interlocking wheels and cogs.

Amos’ gaze lingered on the Engineers’ Guild. In his past he’d travelled back and forth beneath its serviceable archway without a thought for those beyond the city. He’d always been in a hurry, his head full of his projects, his reputation and his competition. His biggest concern had been missing out on the best allocation of resources. All that changed when his sister and niece were banished from the city and he’d decided to follow them.

Now, his life was so different. Harder sure, but it was also better, richer. He must not forget this truth, no matter what the Keeper had to say. He needed to keep a calm head and, more importantly, remember he was fighting for Elsa. With this new resolve, he pressed further into Sun Square.

Two workers in white and purple uniforms placed chairs and tables around a food and drink stall on the cobblestone plaza. Their voices carried across the empty square.

“If the master puts me out here one more time, I swear I’m asking for a transfer to the Science Guild.”

“Just unpack the chairs.”

“This is Smoker work. I’m a chef!”

“You’re a chef’s apprentice and you’ll keep your mouth shut. You complain and we’ll end up on dish duty.”

He approached the pair. One of the young men looked up and nudged his friend. Amos touched his fingers to his forehead in polite greeting. They hesitated a moment before returning the gesture. He limped past them, pretending not to notice their shared glance. Even in his long green coat and itchy wool dress trousers, even with his boots a shiny black and his hair brushed, he was not fully one of them.

Amos climbed the wide stairs to the Commerce Guild. Unlike the Science and Engineering guilds with their thick doors to guard their secrets, the Chamber of Commerce had a wide stone opening. Behind this open arch, the floor was smooth and the ceiling high. Crimson tapestries and banners decorated the walls. Staircases lined the sides of the foyer, climbing upwards to workrooms and apartments.

At the centre of the hall, the Door Watcher sat on a raised platform. She tracked Amos’ noisy steps with a certain level of irritation and tilted back her velvet bonnet to better see him.

“I am Amos Jefferson, the Junker,” he said, presenting the letter. “The Keeper called me here.”

The woman swept aside the long sleeve of her red robe. She pinched the crumpled piece of paper at the corner and scanned the page. She turned it over to check the seal and read it again.

“Is there a problem?”

She waved the note. “This summons was sent hours ago.”

“Are you saying I’m no longer required?”

The Watcher adjusted her cap. “Not at all. But here in Haven we take the Keeper’s wishes very seriously. You should keep that in mind.”

Amos bristled. “Well, when you start crossing the Darkzone to get to your appointments, I’ll start taking your advice. Now, either the Keeper wants to see me today or she doesn’t. Which is it?”

The Watcher grimaced and picked up a tiny silver mallet. With a flick of her wrist, she struck one of the seven bells at her elbow and released a high, clear note. Before the sound faded, an apprentice in black and red appeared from a nearby doorway. His footsteps made no sound on the polished floor. The Watcher leant sideways, placing her lips close to the boy’s ear and whispered.

“Please follow me,” the apprentice said.

Arches draped with deep, red curtains lined the back wall of the foyer. The boy directed Amos to the centre one. “The council is in session. The Keeper will see you once morning business has concluded.”

He held back the fabric. Amos ducked through the gap into an observation gallery high above the meeting hall. He squeezed past several Citizens and found a stool.

Down below, a dais held a long table and seven chairs. The Keeper sat in the middle seat, wearing her habitual gold chain. Behind her head hung the great gold seal of Haven, an oak tree with the motto: They who hold the kernel, hold the world.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

The five councillors sat on either side of the Keeper. At the far left, there was an empty chair, a symbolic place for the mysterious and absent leader of the Farm.

The council’s attention rested on the speaker addressing them from the centre of the room. Melker’s voice rang out, strong and persuasive. It ricocheted off the rock walls and into the gallery above.

“I see no reason why I should be brought before the council, yet again, to give this accounting,” Melker said. “I stand by my decision. Until these dissidents are caught and the matter resolved, I cannot guarantee the safety of the people of Haven. Therefore, in good conscience, I cannot open the Night Port.”

The head of the Commerce Guild spoke up. “Yes, yes. That’s all very well, but I don’t think you understand the predicament you’ve put us in. Haven is a city, with a city’s needs. How can we expect our citizens to go on preserving knowledge when they are forced to do menial work?”

Melker clenched his gloved fist.

“With respect, Councillor Reed, you won’t be thinking of your unclean floors and garbage piles when a mob stands above your bed, knives in their hands.”

Councillor Reed scoffed and smoothed his well-tended beard. “The Smokers do not have the wit, the weapons nor the coordination to attack us.”

The other councillors nodded their heads in agreement.

Melker banged his fist on the podium. “You’re wrong. And now they have something far more powerful than guns and blades in their grasp.”

This statement caused a stir amongst the Citizens surrounding Amos.

“You speak of the escaped prisoner,” Councillor Hunting, head of the Engineers’ Guild, said once order had been restored. She leant over a parchment. “A boy with extraordinary abilities, according to your report.”

“Yes,” Melker said.

Councillor Hunting continued, “A boy with superior speed, strength and the ability to heal.”

Councillor Reed interrupted with a sharp laugh. “You must take us all for fools.”

“It’s true,” Melker said. “Doctor Orsay—”

“Should not have left her post when she did not have permission,” Councillor Reed said. “And if I were her guild leader, I would not hesitate to see her disciplined for this flagrant disregard of authority.”

“I disagree.” Melker said. He addressed the woman sitting to the right of the Keeper. “Councillor Morgan, as head of the Science Guild, you should too. Don’t you see? You will reap the rewards if the doctor is successful.”

Councillor Morgan sat forward. “You are very confident, Captain, but I work with physical evidence, not fantasy and whimsy. As a scientist, I find it very hard to believe your account of this boy or that Doctor Orsay could conduct any meaningful type of experimentation away from her laboratory in Haven.”

“My report is accurate,” Melker said, “and the doctor can attest to the rigour of her work at a later date, if the council requires it. But we must act now. I’ve seen enough to know if we don’t take this opportunity for study, someone else will.”

“What are you saying?” Councillor Cavanidge, leader of the Agriculture Guild, asked from beside Councillor Morgan.

“I’m saying we cannot let this opportunity pass. If we can replicate these abilities, they could add to the glory of our city, but in the wrong hands, they could also lead to our destruction.”

This statement caused a stir in the chamber and forced the Keeper to call for order. Once everyone was silent, she addressed the Captain. “How long will this lockdown last?”

“It will last until I find the boy and all those who helped him escape.”

“You don’t believe he has already fled to the surface?” Councillor Parker, head of Arts, asked from the far end of the dais.

Melker turned to the pale blonde woman. “Impossible, my men are watching every exit.”

The council deliberated for several minutes. Finally, the Keeper returned her attention to Melker’s podium.

“What do you need to resolve this problem, Captain?”

“I need power from the main grid.”

In his haste to interrupt, Councillor Reed almost choked on his words. “The council has already allocated the Black Guardsmen a substantial amount of energy! You act as if we have an unlimited source to draw upon.”

Melker scowled. “The Keeper asked me what I needed. I have told her.”

The Keeper cut off any rejoinder with another question, “And what would you do with this additional power?”

“I would recall all off-duty guards and order a full-scale search of the Darkzone, a search stretching from the Night Port to the Chimney. With our lights fully charged, we could light up the darkness, giving our enemies nowhere to hide. With this ability, I am certain the crisis could be resolved in a few days. You would have your workers returned to you and I would have the boy.”

Councillor Reed shook his head. “Keeper, this request is impossible. We have already assigned this week’s energy allocation.”

The Keeper did not answer. Councillor Reed took this silence for agreement. He faced Melker. “There you have it, it is impossible, as I said. If you come back at the beginning of next week, we would be happy to accept your submission for an increase in allocation along with Haven’s other guilds.”

“Next week will be too late,” Melker said. “Or have you not been listening?”

Councillor Morgan cleared her throat. “I have been listening. I would like to offer the captain twenty-five per cent of the Science Guild’s allocation for this week.”

Councillor Reed spluttered. “You cannot do that! The allocation is based on need and merit.”

“And I believe Captain Melker’s need exceeds that of my own guild at this point in time,” Councillor Morgan said, in her smooth voice. “I would encourage my fellow guild leaders to reflect on their current priorities and consider a similar donation of energy to the Black Guardsmen.”

“Thank you, Councillor Morgan,” the Keeper said. “I suggest we take the coming pause to decide on our positions.”

The councillors filed out with their heads bowed together in deep discussion. Amos remained where he was, contemplating Melker’s request and the council’s response.

The apprentice returned and led him into the now busy foyer. Red-robed figures dominated the space, but of Melker there was no sign.

“When you’re ready, Junker Amos.”

He gestured for the apprentice to lead on. They climbed the closest set of stairs. Amos took each step at a slow, stiff shuffle that forced the apprentice to match his pace. To the boy’s credit, he hid his frustration reasonably well. The apprentice ushered him through yet another curtained door.

Amos stepped into the room and stopped. The luxurious apartment before him was filled with junk. There was not a scratchy council-allocated blanket or cold, metal lantern to be found. Each piece was unique and each item he recognised. A giant grandfather clock stood by the door and a landscape painting hung on the wall. A folded quilt draped over a wing-backed chair, displaying Elsa’s familiar stitch. Cushions, curtains, and a neat cluster of miniature sculptures, all had come from the surface, all had been touched by him. Amos noted item after item with astonishment. The Keeper had never endorsed his stall in public and she’d never bought anything from him in person, but it seemed she’d been supporting him all this time.

Did this mean she could be an ally against Melker and his plans?

“The Keeper will be with you shortly,” the apprentice said and invited Amos onto the balcony.

Amos swallowed his dread and stepped from the apartment into the light.