Morning arrived with a crisp gust that promised to punish whoever didn’t have four walls and a roof to hide under. The weather in the subtropical reach of Bough’s Bay, where their new island was situated, was famously temperamental. A cold snap had fallen on the tail end of an unusually cool winter, though ‘cold’ in Bough’s bay was rather mild compared to most places. Layers of volcanic island chains and reef shallows lay between them and the truly cold, rough water of the East Deep.

“See, that’s where we are,” Zach said, pointing with a stick to the rough map he’d drawn in the sand.

It was a nice map and a nice stick. Isaac would have to find one for himself. And a map, too. Zach, who had adopted him as his new best friend perhaps a bit too quickly, talked so easily about the world no matter where he pointed, whether it was the continent they had just left behind, or the deep trenches that surrounded it on every side.

“That’s a lot of water,” Isaac mumbled, inspecting a piece of driftwood and tossing it to the side. “Deep, too.”

“They say that in the before-days, when the Immortal Empire was still expanding, some greedy immortal found a pearl in the middle of nowhere.”

“A pearl?”

“Not a real pearl. They found this whole world. It just looked like a big round pearl from far away.” He held a pebble up to Isaac’s face, then tossed it as far as he could down the beach until it was just a tiny dot. “The immortal jumped on it, and plowed through the ocean beds really, really fast, gobbling up all the natural treasures and other things like a gulper eel.”

He mimed a big, chomping mouth with both of his hands. Isaac loved the way he told stories, and that he never seemed to run out of tall tales to tell. This one, however, seemed a bit far fetched.

“An immortal,” he asked. “Just one?”

Zach nodded. “They were very greedy. That’s how we got the trenches. And why the world is so, er… poor.”

He was about to say that he didn’t believe him when Zach shot up and pointed at the water.

“Look! The ferry’s back.”

It was, though Isaac didn’t know why. Maybe they forgot something and were here to get it back. Maybe they were giving them a new car. Maybe they were on the wrong island, and they were about to get yelled at.

They both watched as the ferry latched onto the old pier and a whole troop of men and women staggered off and onto land. They were as loud as a swarm of seagulls, yelling, cursing, and spitting everywhere. The tallest of them had a belly and a mustache like a Walrus. It wiggled as he turned to Hammond, who was approaching with a hint of satisfaction on his face.

“They’re talking,” Zach noted.

“Grown ups do that. A lot.”

“You think they’re going to stay?”

“I hope not.” He scrunched his nose. “They smell like a Tuttle.”

“I don’t know what that is.” Zach sniffed, drawing loop-de-loops all across the continent. “Let’s go explore the island while they’re at it.”

“Yeah, let’s.”

Hammond had other ideas. He noticed them trying to slink off. “Isaac! Zaccharias! C’mon over, the builders are here.”

They slinked on over, where the people were already unloading the boat of all manner of things. The big walrus man stared down at them past his red nose and belly.

“So, these’re the little shits we’re building a house for?”

Zach looked like he had just gotten a slap across the cheeks. “I’m not a shit, I’m Zaccharias! And you will call me that, or else.”

“A little high and snobby, eh? And you?” he asked Isaac.

“‘M not a little shit. I’m Isaac.”

“I know he’s Zach, and now you’re telling me you’re Zach too?”

“No. Isaac.”

The walrus-like man smirked. He wasn’t even an actual walrus, he was just tubby and mean.

“That’s enough for now, Victor,” Hammond said. “Boys, help Claire with breakfast while I show them around. They’ll be with us for a couple of days until we can move in, so make sure you stay out of their way and don’t bother them, alright?”

“Why?” Zach asked.

“Because they are very expensive. Go tell Claire while you’re at it.” He turned to the Walrus-like man and the boys could tell that they were all but forgotten.

They stomped away, until they were well out of even Hammond’s ear shot.

“I don’t like them,” Isaac said. “They’re big and mean.”

“But Hammond is paying them to be here, and they’re expensive, so…” Zach snorted. “Let’s go explore the forest?”

He caught Isaac staring back over his shoulders, almost glaring in fact.

“No,” he said. “Their shirts are dirty.”

“And?”

“Dirty shirts are cheap. But why are they expensive?”

“Because they’re high tier?”

Isaac opened his mouth, but paused. He had a point. And now they were both curious. Why did Hammond think they were so important?

“You’re right. We should go check.”

The idea suddenly sounded a lot less enticing. “But we’ll get in trouble.”

“Not if they don’t see us,” Zach said. “Just follow my lead. I have a plan.”

+++

A couple of wooden boxes scooted along the periphery of the construction site. Zach had found them discarded by the side. Now, they were the perfect vehicle for their master plan.

What master plan? Well, Zach probably knew. Isaac was a few steps behind, peeking out of the slits in between the wood. If he tried real hard, he could imagine that his crate was a cloak of invisibility. The old bandicoot of Rats and Rapids had a roundbird as a sidekick, and he sometimes used exactly that kind of cloak to sneak up on animals.

“This is a Choconut crab,” it would whisper over its shoulders. “It’s got fur on its arms and big, strong pincers. They’re not very fast at Tier zero, but when they tier up… ooh, and there’s a pernicious pallizard, a natural predator of–”

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“Ow,” Zach hissed. “Stop bumping into me.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s ok. I think they didn’t notice. We’re getting close. Let’s move up.”

As he said that, a pair of heavy footfalls approached. Isaac noticed it first; he knew what they sounded like and by their pace he could even tell the person’s mood. It was sour, grumpy, and impatient.

“Well. Lookit that.” The box above him sagged. “A convenient sitting-spot for my fat arse.”

Isaac stifled a squeak. Zach was already shuffling ahead. He was too fast. Didn’t they see him?

“Looks like one got away.”

Ah. That answered that. And as if that wasn’t enough, the weight on his crate lifted, and the crate with it. A cold sweat ran down his back as he looked up at the two workers with big eyes.

The man with the walrus mustache glared at him. He was carrying floor tiles stacked so high, they must have weighed as much as Claire’s Car… as half of Claire’s car. Honestly, even a quarter was quite impressive.

“Didn’t ye see the sign? Can’t ye read?”

There were many signs standing out in front, one every few paces. It was a good thing Isaac could read.

“Tier 3 work-ing-place. Hass… Hazurd…”

“Hazardous.”

“Hazardous area. Beeee-ware of falling cats? What does ‘hazardous’ mean?”

“It means that if I’d been just a little less careful, I coulda squashed that scrap wood crate just by sitting on it. You ever seen roadkill with its guts pushed out its butt like toothpaste? That coulda been you. That’s why the sign’s there, capiche?”

Ew. Also, I’m getting in trouble, I think.

“Vic,” came a woman’s voice from the rafters, “you’re scaring the kid.”

Isaac’s head jerked up, where a woman with slim-muscle arms was hanging from a piece of wood she was busy finagling into another piece. She had spiky, fuzzy ears, a tail that was swishing to try and keep her balance, a small hammer, and some nails dangling from her mouth.

The Walrus man sounded offended. “I ain’t doing nothing though!”

“It’s your damn size, and those eyes of yours.” She took one of her nails and set it against the strut. “Makes people think you’re tryna sell them rotten meat pies.”

Isaac watched, fascinated, as her hammer blurred, and the nail disappeared into the wood with a brrrt sound.

“Yes love. Kid, I didn’t mean to disturb ye but—”

“How are you doing that?” Brrrt. Brrrt. Brrrt.

“Got a skill.”

“What kind?” he asked, getting on his tiptoes.

“The good kind.”

“And from where?”

The brrt-ing stopped. “Will you stop drilling me with questions if I show you how to use a hammer?”

He nodded vigorously. Within moments, he was up the wobbly step ladder and was scooting across the same beam the woman was sitting on. Her name was Anja and she was from the mainland, where she and her husband made a living building houses. “Lickity split,” as she called it, which probably had less to do with licking or splitting, and more with the fact that she was very quick.

Isaac had the honor of holding her box of nails while she was working. It was fascinating, watching her hand blurring from up close. It was her skill, which was called something-[Tap]. But it wasn’t just a skill, it was… like two rolled into one. That she even had one was astonishing; neither Aunt nor Uncle Tuttle had ever spoken of skills. Whenever he tried to mention some of the ‘magic’ he’d seen on TV or in a magazine, Uncle Tuttle would huff, mumble something dirty, and then continue ignoring him.

I don’t think he had a skill. Unless that skill is smelling bad.

Asking more questions only gained him more answers that he didn’t know what to do with.

But he did see her fall off the beam. Twice. She had a harness attached to the beam, so nothing bad came of it.

“How many floor tiles do you think we lost before coming up with that idea?” Victor had said as she dangled by her waist.

“Oh shush. At least I have an excuse. You’re just a clumsy oaf.”

“Yes love,” he answered with a grin. “Of course, love.”

By the third time this happened, Isaac was too curious not to ask.

“What excuse? I thought cat people always land on their feet. Are you sick?”

Anja shook her head. “The gods deigned to give me some bad with my good. My Bane dampens my sense of what’s up and what’s down. Had to learn walking all over again.”

Isaac blinked. The world was making less sense the more questions he asked. “If the gods did that, you must have done something to make them angry.”

“Being born’s crime enough, at least if you ask my old papy,” she muttered, and almost slipped off again. Isaac offered her a nail. “Just ‘cause there’s things in the sea and things in the sky we can’t understand, doesn’t mean you gotta bend over and kiss their toes or curse their arses for all your bad luck.”

“Doesn’t hurt to show respect though,” said a worker with a floppy hat who was pouring some cement.

Anja grunted, and Isaac left his questions at that.

The house was up by the time the sun was setting. It was large, larger than his previous one, and with the extra story on top of the ground floor, it looked almost like a long, upturned boat. Strong, angled supports jutted out of its side. They were in case of earthquakes, which Isaac thought was pretty smart. They followed the builders to the pier, where they all got to throw some kibble into the greedy mouths of fish waiting along the reef. Someone muttered a prayer of thanks, and then they were off, taking the last ferry back to the mainland.

“Are we moving in before or after dinner?” Isaac asked Hammond as Claire stirred a fishy potato stew.

The big man gave him a quirked eye. “Those weren’t the last builders. Tomorrow, someone’s coming to do the roof and the insulation. Then someone to install all the windows, the wiring, the temperature systems, and so on. In one week the house will be furnished and ready to move in.”

“That’s so long,” Isaac groaned. “It’s going to take forever.”

“Boy, if we had gone with the budget option, you’d be fishing s’more crumbs out of your sleeping bag for half a year or more.”

“But we have you,” Zach said. “Can’t you just… magic a house of rocks up.”

“Sure. If you want to live in a cement igloo, without power, water, or a working toilet. It’ll crumble after a few months too, but if you don’t mind waking up with crumbs all over you, I could make ten houses. Let the builders build, they know what they’re doing.”

That was… magic couldn’t make cool houses? How terrible. Though if Isaac was allowed to watch them build all day, maybe it wasn’t that bad. Anja and her friends made it look so easy. Something to think about for later.

The stew was smelling heavenly fishy. Did Claire catch the fish for it? And if she did, did she use a fishing pole, or a skill? She used a lot of fire, so maybe she had a fire spear, or fireball, or a fire… sword.

He watched as Claire stacked some more wood underneath the cauldron, lit it on fire with a snip of her fingers, and then turned away seconds before the entire thing started bubbling over.

“Carpcrap,” she swore, as she lifted the cauldron out of the fire with her bare hand, while balancing a board of half-cut veggies in the other. She didn’t look burnt, and he really tried to see if she had any blisters or even just a bit of red skin.

“What are you buzzing around for Isaac? Want to find out how I cook my legendary grouper goulash?”

“No…” Cutting veggies and de-boning fish didn’t seem like a fun way to spend his evening. Though, if he said that, Claire might get mad. And having seen her pick up the cauldron like that, that was the last thing he wanted.

“Go on, git then,” she waved him away with a spoon. “Play with Zach, or lie down. I’ll wake you when it’s done.”

Oh.

Now he felt bad for planning not to help at all. “Can I help with—”

“Not today!” She grabbed a burning log out of the fire, squinting at it. “I’m just figuring this out as well, and I need some space. Doing that is enough, trust me.”

Isaac nodded and went off to look for Zach, but he couldn’t find him anywhere. Disappointed, he looked for a patch of sun-warmed sand, spread out a towel after asking if he could have one, and closed his eyes for just a minute. The day had been long, and full of so many new things. It was enough to forget that just days ago, everything was so much worse.

It was the second time he’d almost drowned. He could barely remember the first, but he had dreams. A lone raft, a broken bulkhead door and a few barrels tied together by rope, and him, lying atop it, wondering if the dark clouds on the horizon would throw him off this time. He remembered the thirst, surrounded by so much water he couldn’t drink, remembered the hunger, the loneliness, and the color of that deepest part of the ocean below.

A long time ago, he used to love swimming, used to love diving down and watching the fish swim above him. Now, in place of that love, when he heard the ocean lapping gently, or the tap running with water, he couldn’t imagine anything but darkness and fear. It was there too when he closed his eyes. There was the worm-thing, the king of leeches, warbling at the foot of his bed. Ten mouths with teeth ringing inside ambled towards him, pulling at his sheets, then suddenly jolting forward and biting into him, shaking him, taking bits and pieces of—

“Isaac.” Isaac jerked as someone excitedly shook his shoulder. “Isaac. Wake up.”

Zach. It was Zach. He was real and so was everything else. Besides the monster. Claire had killed the monster. Then why was he shaking, and afraid of dead things?

Don’t cry, idiot. Not now.

“Is food ready?” he asked while hiding behind a convenient yawn.

“Yes. But actually, I discovered something important. About essence. It’s really cool.”

That got him awake a little bit faster.

Zach grinned. “I’ll tell you tomorrow, promise.”

Great. Now Isaac was absolutely going to get no sleep tonight.