The Shanties opened into a sprawl of illegally built houses. Thin streets wound in confusing swirls, sometimes becoming so narrow and turning so sharply that Luci had to slow right down so as not to crash into a wall or pedestrian. She was having trouble controlling even her walking speed with the gravity reduction meld wrapped around her body. After an eternity of backtracking and re-checking her map, she finally skidded into Batwing Lane.

The moment she set foot into the narrow street, her stomach churned. It was unnaturally quiet, which only helped to emphasise the sounds of her own desperation: the hiss of her own ragged breath, the heavy crunch of her feet on crumbling pavers, the thump THUMP of her own heart.

The Shanties were always bustling. People practically lived on top of each other in this area, so it was hard not to bump into someone every few seconds, even in the dead of night. If Wip was to be believed, that her stomach warned her of danger—an idea which she still felt was ludicrous—this was a trap, one laid specially for her.

But what else was she supposed to do?

She swallowed saliva then trudged slowly down the street, using the glow of her gravity reduction meld to guide her way. Some of the hastily constructed buildings had numbers on them. Others didn’t. She counted up from building one hundred and four. One hundred and six. One hundred and twelve.

She finally reached building two hundred and forty-two. The steel amalgamation rose six stories. Its windows were all barred. Rooms and balconies had been attached wherever they could so that when Luci looked up, she couldn’t see the stars. Tubes feeding oxon energy into the building had been illegally tapped into the fat, overhead mains, which then fanned out and punched through windows to feed the power-hungry equipment inside. And it was indistinguishable from its neighbours save for its number—it didn’t actually have one nailed to its front, but the building before it did. A rusted door that looked ready to fall off its hinges made its only entrance. Luci checked her belongings.

Staff? Check. Box of money? Check. Phone? Unfortunately, check. The idea of giving anyone her phone made her nauseous. Picture of her sister? She stuffed that in her pocket. It was the one thing she wouldn’t give up.

Her useless self? Check.

Trembling, she tested the doorknob. It was unlocked. She took a deep breath then swung the door open. It creaked loudly on its hinges.

The building opened up into a spacious but cluttered lobby. One light bulb, feeding off a thin tube that ran across the ceiling, barely offered enough lighting to the room. Luci guessed it must have been an office space before the explosion in the city’s population had repurposed the building, along with most of the Shanties, into a sprawling web of miniscule apartments.

A dozen people sat around on paint-stripped furniture, tending to their aftos. Luci just knew they were the bad sort from their appearance alone: dark, collared shirts, slacks, chains and rings smelted from gold-huse and silver-huse, slicked or tied-back hair, and a hard look to their eyes.

And there was Stella. They’d tied her up in the middle of the room. She looked even worse in person when compared to her photo. Her clothes were all shredded up, showing more skin than was acceptable. Her arms were covered in fresh cuts and dried blood. The only bit of her that had gone unscathed was the white beanie with rabbit ears she wore on her head. One of the thugs was kneeling beside her and had his filthy hand on her knee.

When the door swung open, everyone leapt up. Their eyes fix on the glow that permeated Luci’s body. Then all of Gul broke loose.

Twelve weapons were raised and pointed at her. A man wearing a scanner over his eyes screamed, “She’s melding!” The scanner’s lens was flashing as he directed it at her. “Level forty-two spike.”

A man seated at the back of the room pointed a gun at Luci and shouted, “Release it!”

Luci took a step back and held her staff and box out defensively. “No, no, I have to!” she cried, desperation pitching her voice. “I’m not trying to do anything. I swear on my family’s name.”

“I said, release!”

Luci danced on the spot, unsure what to do. With each panicked step she hopped nearly half a metre in the air. “Please, just listen to me. Please!”

The man holding the gun considered her for a few seconds, his face set in a scowl. At least, he seemed to be scowling, because a scar ran down one side of his face and carved his lip up so that the missing flesh seemed to set his face that way.

The scarred man waved a hand and everyone settled down. “Explain,” he said. His gun remained trained on her.

Luci sifted through her thoughts for the right words. “The Path of the Moon is an enma path that primarily focuses on the manipulation of gravity.”

“Speak properly,” the scarred man spat.

“Sorry!” Luci squeaked. “Um, when I gain enma fatigue, my personal gravity increases. Currently, my body weighs about two hundred kilograms. If I drop this gravity reduction meld, the fall to the ground alone can kill me.”

Long moments passed. Luci tried her hardest to get her breathing under control, to not appear so terrified, but with that gun pointed at her she was barely able to think straight. Then one side of the man’s mouth ticked up.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from royalty,” he said. “Crazy paths that none of us poor folk could ever have. Best we could ever hope for is to learn that useless, slow-growing crap they give you in schools. But, hey, you need money to afford to go to a school. If it weren’t for afto’s we’d all be grovelling at their feet, right?”

The rest of his thugs chuckled at his joke. Satisfied, the man narrowed his eyes at Luci. “You’re Luci Black, right? Or should I say, Lucina Animana, daughter of some moon or another.”

Luci nodded.

The man waved his gun. “Walk forward. Slowly.”

Swallowing saliva, Luci stepped into the room with her hands raised. The concrete floor crunched under her weight. The man who’d been touching Stella earlier walked around behind Luci, keeping his distance, then closed the door behind her. Luci fixed a sneer on him the whole way. How dare he touch Stella!

Stella looked up at Luci. When their eyes met, the fence jerked forward against her bindings. “Luci, don’t do anything stupid, okay!” she yelled. They’d left her ungagged. “These guys are dangerous. Just stay quiet and make the trade.”

Luci’s lips quivered as she huffed, “Okay. Okay.” She turned to the man with the scar on his face. “What do you want? I’ll give you anything, just please let Ms. Stella go.”

The scarred man lowered his gun and hummed his approval. He walked calmly over to Stella and stood behind her. From his belt, he drew a knife and pressed it to Stella’s neck. Stella gritted her teeth and said nothing.

“Firstly, Your Highness,” he spoke the title with such mockery. Luci didn’t have the heart to tell him that the correct title was, Luminous One, mostly because she hated that title. The scarred man continued, “The name is Flak, not ‘You.’ And you can refer to me as, Your Royal Highness, Flak the Magnificent.”

He paused. Luci kept her mouth sealed. Then Flak rolled his eyes. “Say it!”

“Sorry,” Luci squeaked. “Y-Your Royal Highness, Flak the M-Magnificent.”

“Good.” He leaned close to Stella so that his mouth was a few centimetres away from her beanie. “Now, put your crap down. Slowly. And don’t do anything stupid. If my soldardos sense the slightest change in your enma, I’ll put a couple extra holes in your precious fence, here.”

“Yes, Your Royal Highness, Flak the Magnificent.”

She slowly lowered herself. Her gravity reduction meld was imperfect so her knees creaked under her weight. She was tempted to push more enma into the meld but knew that doing so would only set off the thugs and risk Stella getting more hurt than what she already was. She placed her staff and box gently onto the ground.

“Kick them away.”

Luci nodded. She straightened up then gave the staff a nudge with her toe. In that moment, some interesting things happened.

Firstly, she forgot to account for the fact that she was bonded to an amplifier that was made of oxium. The material allowed for frictionless transfer of enma between her body and the afto.

Secondly, her meld was poorly constructed. She’d slapped the thing together out of pure instinct. The result was a tangle of loose conform threads that dangled out in places and occasionally affected the world.

Consequently, the staff had inherited some of her gravity-ignoring properties and now weighed less than a feather. Thus, when she kicked the staff, it went flying across the room, twirling right past the head of one thug, and embedded itself into a wall.

Upon seeing this, the thugs all shifted back and shouted at her. Luci made out the subtle glow of enma rushing into their aftos.

She waved her hands in a panic. “I’m so sorry. It was an accident! I’m just not used to this meld. Please, don’t hurt Ms. Stella.”

Flak settled them down again then jutted his chin forward. “The box.”

“Sorry.” Unlike her staff, the box wasn’t so light. This time Luci forgot to account for her extra strength from not having to drag her own leg’s weight as much. The box tumbled forwards and its contents scattered across the floor.

The corner of Flak’s mouth ticked up once he put gold and huse together. “What, did you think you could buy your fence back? There’s only one thing I’m interested in, princess, and that’s ten million kin.”

“I—I won’t fight. I promise. Just let Ms. Stella go. Please.”

“And how do I know you’re not going to use some special royal enma technique to wipe us all out? Nah, I’m not taking chances.”

He ran his knife lightly across Stella’s neck, causing both her and Luci to wince. A trickle of blood ran down Stella’s neck. One of the men flinched at the sight of her blood.

“This knife here is what’s called a contractor’s blade,” Flak said. “The wielder can set a condition, and if it isn’t met, it cuts. You, princess, are going to walk over and not do anything stupid. Your precious Ms. Stella will cross paths with you. Then my folks are going to tie you up. After that, Ms. Stella,” he said mockingly, “can do whatever she wants.”

“And you won’t hurt her?” Luci asked.

Flak shrugged. “I’ve got no reason to.”

Luci’s heart was racing. Her breathing was getting heavier and heavier. Her hair fluttered around her from the anti-gravity effect she was producing with her excess enma. She closed her eyes, swallowed, and accepted whatever would come next.

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?” Flak snapped.

“Okay, your Royal Highness, Flak the Magnificent.”

One side of Flak’s mouth ticked up. “Good princess.”

He pulled the knife away. A translucent copy of the blade remained pressed to Stella’s neck. Flak sliced at her bindings with the knife then nudged the chair with his knee. With a yelp, Stella tumbled onto the floor. Luci’s hands balled into fists. She wanted to hit Flak, but she had to endure.

“Walk.”

Stella glared at Flak before getting to her feet. She took a step forward, then waited for Luci to copy. She did, and they slowly moved towards each other. Each moment felt like it was stretching out for eternity. Luci couldn’t look Stella in the eye. Likewise, Stella was staring straight past her.

As she walked, Luci practiced a thousand apologies in her mind, trying to figure out just the right thing to say. When finally they met, Luci tried to speak but the words froze on her tongue. They weren’t enough. No words could properly capture the weight of her guilt. So, she said nothing and carried her guilt another step forward.

Everything went wrong in an instant.

Something whacked her behind the knee. Luci fell hard. She flung her arms out at the last moment and barely broke her fall. The floor cracked under her palms. Pain shot up her arms and knees.

Then her arms were yanked away from her. Not wanting to hurt whoever had grabbed her, she went completely limp. Her chest slammed against the ground. Both her arms were pulled behind her back and something clasped tightly around her wrists.

The moment her wrists were bound, Luci lost awareness of her soul. It was as though it was hidden behind the clouds: she knew it was there, but there was no way to see it. Her gravity reduction meld vanished and the oppressive weight she’d been staving off for the last half hour slammed into her like a hammer.

Her breath fled her. Her body could no longer move no matter how hard she tried. Her face was pressed sideways to the cracked floor. Gasping for air, gasping in pain, she looked up at her assailant with one eye. Whatever weight she felt before was nothing compared to how heavy her heart became.

“M-Ms. Stella?” she breathed. “Why?”