Midday. The Sunlight clock chimed twelve times. The guild doors opened. Citizens streamed into the square and strolled along the cobblestones. They filled the outdoor cafeterias. On the balconies above, people in bright garments appeared to take their lunch meal. They had an hour, and the Sunlight Clock kept careful track of every second.

“As long as we keep time, we keep order in the Chaos.”

Amos held his surprise in check. He turned and bowed to the woman before him.

The Keeper of Haven.

Amos both admired and feared her in equal measure, though in her appearance there was nothing fierce or terrifying. The diminutive woman wore her hair in a simple bun, the few dark strands stark against the silver grey. Shaped, black brows and high cheekbones dominated her face, and deep lines decorated the skin around her mouth. She looked like any other elder, aging yet poised, experienced and steady.

It was only when he met the Keeper’s heavy, unblinking gaze, that he remembered this was no ordinary person. Her brown eyes held a sharp intelligence that had him watching every word and phrase he uttered.

The Keeper moved beside Amos and pointed to the giant timepiece. “I assume it was the clock holding your attention?”

Amos nodded.

“It is the ticking heart of this city. Without it, we would be little better than those on the surface, living from moment to moment.”

“It’s a useful tool,” Amos said.

The Keeper shook her head. “No. It is the most beautiful machine you ever made. There will never be another as grand or as perfect, nor a maker with your keen eye for aesthetics. I was right to choose you over your master, all those years ago.”

Amos almost shivered at the compliment. The impulse was a throwback to his time as a citizen and he cleared his throat to cover it up. “Thank you, Keeper.”

The leader of Haven sat down at a wrought-iron table painted white and invited Amos to take the other matching chair.

“Do you mind?” The Keeper gestured to the spread of food. “I have these rooms ready, so I need not waste time travelling to my personal apartments during work hours. There is always much to do and very little time to sit and eat.”

The Keeper waited until he joined, then picked up her knife and fork. She cut the thick slices of meat and cheese into bite-sized pieces, returned the knife to the side of her plate and switched her fork to the other hand.

“Relax, old friend.” She speared a piece of soft cheese. “You look ill at ease.”

Amos tried to do as she said and failed. “If I’m uncomfortable it’s because I’m unsure why you’ve summoned me.”

“Understandable.” The Keeper took a sip of her drink. “We haven’t spoken in many years.”

“No, not without the council and accompanying audience.”

The Keeper paused in her meal. “You think I have been harsh on you?”

“Not on me. With me you’ve always been fair.”

She smiled. “Despite the things that happened in our past, I still consider you to be a man of integrity. I tried to demonstrate this in my actions.”

“I’m grateful,” Amos said. “Without your support I wouldn’t have been able to move to the Darkzone or travel to the surface.”

“I believe you can be trusted. In my time as Keeper, I have granted scant few permission to leave the underground.”

“Other than the Guardians of the Farm and the Chosen,” Amos corrected.

The Keeper’s smile wavered. She inclined her head. “Of course.”

She finished her meal and set the fork next to her knife. “Now. Though I have enjoyed your company over lunch, let us get to the real reason for your presence.”

“Please,” he invited.

“Amos, I need your help.”

“You know I will do what I can.”

“Good,” the Keeper said. “That is very good. Your work as a Junker has placed you in an excellent position to give this assistance. Tell me, have you seen anything of concern on the surface?”

Amos worked hard to keep a neutral expression on his face. He still wasn’t sure he could trust the Keeper. “There are lots of things that concern me. The Chaos is humanity at its worst.”

“Perhaps I am being too general.” The Keeper wiped her mouth on a bright white serviette. “You heard the captain’s speech?”

Amos’ palms turned clammy. “Yes.”

“You heard him talk of a gifted boy?”

“I did. Melker was certainly very…passionate.” Amos hoped he was better at deception than his niece. “You believe such a child could exist?”

The Keeper regarded him. “You do not? You have seen nothing of the sort in your own travels?”

“I think Melker has spent too much time in the Darkzone. He is young and easily excited.”

“True he is young,” the Keeper said, “but he is captain for a reason. He should not be underestimated and Doctor Orsay, for all her faults, is not one to exaggerate.”

An apprentice came to take the remains of the Keeper’s meal away. As he left, he placed a bowl of fruit and a clean side plate on the table. The Keeper waited until the youth had left to continue their conversation.

“Your task is simple. For more than a decade, you have travelled through the valley and kept to the narrow path I’ve set you. Now I want you to leave that path behind. Be my eyes and ears. Find out if there are others like the boy on our doorstep. Gather information—numbers, habits, and skills—anything of importance. I want to know if those on the surface are potential allies or a threat.”

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“I’m not a spy, Keeper,” Amos said. “I’m an old man. Surely someone younger would be more suited to the task?”

The Keeper took a green apple from the bowl and rolled it around her palm. “You are suited to the task. You know the surface and you know how to keep a secret. Recent events in the Darkzone have shown me there are very few people I can trust, but I know I can count on you. You will protect Haven. I will help you in return.”

“How?”

The Keeper collected a small knife from the table and began to peel the apple. She created a long trail of green skin. It curled onto the tablecloth in one unbroken piece.

“Your niece is your apprentice?”

“Yes,” Amos said.

The Keeper severed the unbroken peel from the apple and let it fall in a limp tangle onto the table. “I hear she is of an age to request her own permit and start junking.”

“We’d planned to make our request to you in the next few weeks.”

The Keeper divided the apple’s crisp flesh into six pieces. She carved the core from each section and lined them on her plate. “She is also Bad Seed.”

“She won’t always be,” Amos said.

The Keeper placed her knife alongside the plate. “Yes, Amos, she will. No Bad Seed has ever returned to Haven following banishment.”

He clenched his hand. “Because no one has ever paid the fee for a pardon. Once we have the lumieres, you cannot keep her out.”

The Keeper gave a sad shake of her head, telling him in one simple action they could, and would. Amos’ stomach dropped. The Keeper may not be his enemy, but she was also no ally. He was right to be wary.

“Why?” Amos asked. “She was a child at the time. Her mother made the decision for her. Elsa was innocent.”

“We cannot let that sway us.”

He scoffed, unable to hide his disgust.

“Think, Amos. What if others acted as your sister did? What of the future? What of the Great Oak? We are harsh because we must be.”

“If Elsa’s situation is hopeless, why are you telling me?”

The Keeper pointed a long, clean finger at him. “Because I remember what you were, even if you’ve chosen to bury yourself in the darkness and smoke. I remember the great man, the ambitious man, the visionary who created the jewel for my perfect city. It is because of this memory I’m offering you a chance to give your niece a better life.”

The Keeper paused.

“Do this work for me and I will give you official status within the guild of your choice. You would become the Master Junker, with all the rights that entails, including resource allocation.”

Amos found his gaze falling back into Sun Square and onto the three guildhalls visible from his position. “The guild heads have agreed to this?”

“I am the Keeper. They will do as I say.”

Amos had no doubt they would. “And what of my niece? I won’t agree to anything that doesn’t benefit her.”

The Keeper straightened an apple piece. “I cannot return her citizenship, but I can offer her a dwelling outside the city limits, somewhere along the Day Port, maybe even within the Agricultural Guild after she has proven herself trustworthy. She would be your official apprentice, with greater access to Haven and, most importantly, unlimited access to the surface. Tell me that isn’t a fair exchange?”

The Keeper read the doubt on his face.

“You need to trust me when I say this is the best offer she will ever receive. Though perhaps I am wrong. I’ve heard there are others who would be happy to keep her in the Darkzone.” She shrugged. “Perhaps dependence is more her style.”

Amos bristled at the reference to Melker. He took a deep breath and released it. “I need to talk with my niece. She’s not going to like this. I’ll need some time to break it to her.”

“Of course,” the Keeper said. “I understand.”

“But perhaps you could give us something now? Something I could use to win her over to the idea?”

The Keeper gave him an indulgent smile. “What if I readied a place in the Day Port?”

Amos shook his head. “Give me the permits.”

The Keeper laughed. “You always were a man of business first.”

She waved to the apprentice, hovering at the edge of the balcony. The boy came forward with two pieces of parchments.

“Two unrestricted permits to the surface, one for Citizen Jefferson and one for Bad Seed number…”

“271,” Amos said.

The Keeper signed the parchments. Her signature was neat, the loops tight, the lines contained.

“Ready your expedition,” the Keeper said. “Go to the surface and come back to me with the information I require. Do this and you will see how I reward those who are of use to me.”

Amos stood and the Keeper rose with him. She picked up the plate of apple and offered him a piece. “They’re from my personal sun garden.”

He stared at the tiny white slices, already browning at the edges, and declined.

***

Noak’s keen hearing picked up noises in the stable, a short snort from Pippa, a thump of metal against metal, the rattle of a chain. He left Finn’s bedside and ducked beneath the cloth flap serving as a door to the sleeping room. Elsa looked up from the workbench and flushed when she saw him. She opened her mouth to speak and closed it again when she noticed the knife in his hand.

Elsa rose and grabbed a hammer. The workshop door swung open. Amos stepped through, his head down as he mumbled to himself. Noak sheathed his knife at his belt.

“Uncle, you scared us!” Elsa returned the hammer to the table. “Are you okay? What did the Keeper want?”

The junker waved her questions away. He removed his dress coat and polished boots. Loosening his collar, Amos walked over to the table and inspected the silver box.

“You didn’t leave it in the solution long enough. I can see tarnish in the grooves.”

“People like the antique look,” Elsa said.

Amos raised his voice. “People pay for clean silver, not stained metal. How many times do I have to tell you?”

Noak took a step closer to the table, so Elsa was within arm’s reach. He didn’t think the old man would hurt her, but he didn’t like taking chances.

“I’ll give it another soak.” Elsa picked up the box of powder. “It’s not a big deal.”

Amos snatched at the cardboard. “And waste baking soda?”

She threw up her empty hands in exasperation. “Why are we talking about this now?”

“You think this stuff is just lying around on the surface?” Amos said

“For darkness’ sake, uncle, what happened?”

Amos pulled up a stool and collapsed onto it.

“Was I right?” Elsa asked. “Does the Keeper know about Finn? Did Melker tell her? It that why you’re in such a foul mood?”

Amos pulled two small square letters from his pocket. “I got our permits.”

Noak shared a glance with Elsa.

“You did?” She asked.

The Junker nodded. “We have a way to leave the underground.”

“But…that’s good, isn’t it?” Elsa asked.

“There’s more.” Amos said. “Melker’s asked for extra guards and equipment from the council. With this boost in manpower, he’ll be able to search every house in the Chimney and the Alley, including this one. It’s no longer safe to keep the boy here.”

“We have to go,” Noak agreed.

“Yes,” Amos said. “We can’t afford to wait longer.”

“How soon can you be ready?” Noak asked him.

“My wagon needs packing. The guards must think it’s an authentic expedition.”

“We don’t have enough time,” Elsa said, her voice taking on a slightly panicked tone.

“They’ll also need to prepare,” Noak reassured her.

Amos shook his shoulders, as if he was shaking off his melancholy, and stood. “He’s right. The council must still give Melker its approval. My guess is we have until tomorrow morning.” He quickly allocated them tasks. “I will see to Pippa and the junk wagon. Blood Wolf, you need to ready yourself and the boy for travel. Elsa, I’ll leave you to deal with provisions.” Amos hurried towards the stable. “Don’t forget Pippa’s grain. There’s no time to lose.”

The door closed and muffled any further instructions. Noak and Elsa were left alone in the workshop. Noak glanced at the thin curtain separating them from Finn’s room. He should move, the situation was urgent, but he found himself rooted to the spot. He heard Elsa sigh. It seemed she felt the same.

“Elsa, I – ” Noak stopped, uncertain what he even wanted to say.

“Yes?”

Noak couldn’t find the right words. He’d entered unknown territory. When he’d made his plan for rescuing Finn, it hadn’t included Elsa. She was supposed to be in Haven, oblivious to the struggles beyond the city, safe and content. He’d never expected to meet her again, but he had. Now he had to leave.

Behind him the clocks sounded the hour. Elsa dropped her gaze to the workbench and Noak returned to Finn’s side.