I woke up a few hours before dawn, lying still in the dark. The faint hum of mosquitoes filled the room, their relentless buzzing driving me mad. I swatted at the air above me, wishing they’d all disappear for good.

With a sigh, I pushed myself up and headed into the bathroom. A fist-sized shard of broken mirror sat on the sink, its jagged edges long since smoothed from use. I leaned down, examining my reflection, twisting my face this way and that, trying to make myself look as unorphan as possible.

Brown eyes stared back at me, some blonde hair hanging over them. You ask me? They're the best combination, if I weren’t so gaunt. The real problem, though, was the stubble darkening my jaw. My beard was coming in now, which wasn’t going to help my chances of begging with the others.

Grabbing a shard of glass, I carefully set to work, shaving the wiry hairs with slow, deliberate strokes. The glass caught on a stubborn patch near my earlobe, and I winced as it nicked the skin. A bead of blood welled up and trickled down my neck.

"Another scratch for the collection," I muttered under my breath, wiping it away.

I pulled on my tattered shirt and pants, the fabric barely holding together. One leg was practically missing, but hey, you had to look your best for the Collider's Blessing. The yearly festival was supposed to be a chance for everyone—rich or poor, young or old—to receive their powers. Of course, that promise rang hollow when the Blessed guarded it like mice hoarding their last crumbs of cheese. If anyone asked me, they should just call it the Fink Maker. At least then it wouldn’t pretend to be fair.

Dressed to impress I added one final touch. I’d scavenged a bit of charcoal from a burnt-out dumpster fire and rubbed it over my teeth, hoping it would make them look cleaner. Then I stepped outside, the cool morning air biting at the holes in my clothes.

The streets were mostly quiet, just the faint rustling of wind and the occasional shuffle of someone else on the hunt. I darted across the street and started rummaging through the bins near a line of shacks. I wanted today to feel special, at least for Yelena. She was the youngest of us, after all. And when you're the oldest, gotta do what you gotta do.

After a few minutes of digging, I struck gold—or as close to gold as we ever got. A small, half-eaten piece of bread clung to some leftover fish. The smell hit me hard, sour and rank, but I bit back the urge to gag. Carefully peeling the bread away, I also found an empty jar of jam.

Grinning at my haul, I held it close and sprinted back to the orphanage. On the way, I clutched it tight, scanning for anyone who might want to take it.

Once inside, I got to work. I scraped off as much of the mold as I could, tossing the green bits into a corner. Then I flapped the bread back and forth, trying to shake out the overwhelming fish stink. Finally, I dipped the bread into the jam jar, swirling it around to pick up the remnants stuck to the sides.

When I finished, I stepped back to admire my handiwork. It wasn’t much, but if you squinted—ignored the faint fish smell—it almost looked like a proper meal, fit for a princess. A flicker of pride crept in as I carefully set it aside.

The others were still asleep, scattered in groups across the dorm hidden at the back of a crumbling church. I moved quietly, waking each of them with a gentle hand over their mouths. One by one, they stirred, their tired eyes blinking up at me before silently following.

We gathered around Maria's bed, the second oldest in the orphanage, where she sat upright with Yelena and Pasha cradled in her arms. I leaned down and gently shook Yelena’s shoulder. Her small face scrunched in confusion as she rubbed her eyes.

“Happy birthday, kiddo,” I whispered.

Her smile spread slowly at first, then lit up her whole face as she noticed all of us standing around her.

We started singing Happy Birthday, our voices soft but full of warmth. She threw off the only blanket in the orphanage, her grin widening until it seemed to take over her whole face. I pulled out the bread. For a moment, the others looked at it with that desperate, hollow hunger in their eyes. But a sharp look from me shut that down quick.

I handed the bread to Yelena, raising my hands like one of those fancy conductor people while the others sang. The mood shifted as smiles broke out all around, and Yelena slapped the bed to the rhythm, giggling. Her laugh was contagious—I couldn’t help but chuckle too.

If I had a real choice, the only gift I’d give her would be a ticket out of this place. Out of the hunger, the danger, the township. But for now, the bread would have to do.

“Make a wish!” little Ivan called out, breaking the momentary silence.

We all watched Yelena with bated breath as she sat up straighter, her chest puffed out proudly. “I want a ticket for the submarine!” she declared.

Her lisp softened the words, but the conviction behind them was clear. One of the doctors at the clinic had a name for it—cleft palate or something. All those doctors could explain it to me, but none would fix it. Not that it mattered. Yelena spoke well enough for anyone who cared to listen.

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that, even if we worked for the next hundred years, we wouldn’t be able to buy one of those tickets. All the others were looking at me now, waiting for me to say something.

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“You're not supposed to say it out loud, kiddo. Come on, let's get the day started and go take some money from those finks. Maybe you might even get a piece of meat if you dress quickly,” I said as I squatted down in front of her, ruffling her hair as she sat up in bed.

I rose, calling the older ones to me, trying to plan out the day as the others got dressed. Poor Yelena was trying to put a shirt on, but her only arm couldn't get the shirt over her head. I gave Maria, who was half-dressed, a look that made her scurry over to Yelena, and she started helping her put the shirt on while I told the others the plans for the day.

“Mikhail, Ivan, Natalia, you three take some of the younger ones and go beg in Goudstad. Let’s see if we can make a few bucks with the people coming in and out. Remember, stick to places near the taxi ranks, but don’t get too close. And don’t steal anything unless you can get away with it.”

They rolled their eyes at this part, having heard it a thousand times before, but they knew the drill and would make sure it got done. They started calling the younger ones, getting them ready, adding a few marks on their faces before heading for the door.

“Tatiana, Olga, Yuri. You're staying here today. I need someone to make sure no one comes in to steal things. Also, look after Irina—I thought she was a bit feverish. Make sure she rests and gets better,” I said as I handed Olga a rusty blade, the best weapon in the whole church.

“Boris, can’t I come with you? Staying here would be stupid. I could go and make money or find some food for tonight at least!” Yuri said, disappointed he got church duty.

“You’re the biggest boy here, bucko. Gotta stay and protect the ladies,” I said, giving him a reassuring smile. He was the biggest boy here besides me—fourteen years old, and the top of his head barely reached my shoulder.

I saw Natalia heading for the door and I almost threw a chair at her. Her hair wasn’t clipped, and she hadn’t wrapped her chest to flatten it.

“Natalia! Wrap up your chest right now, or I’ll give you a hiding you’ll feel for a week!” I seethed, pushing through the bustle of children to grab her arm before she could walk out.

“Boris, it hurts. They won’t notice anyway. I don’t have much there,” she whined, but I tightened my grip on her arm, pointing a stern finger at her face.

“Yeah? Won’t hurt when the gangs find out you’re a girl, will it?” I shot back, fury burning through me at the thought of her walking out unprepared.

She looked down, her face softening with the weight of the truth. She knew this wasn’t an argument she could win. With a resigned nod, she turned and went back to wrap herself up.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself before calling the children together. “What’s the first rule?” I asked, playing clueless.

“Don’t look at the Blessed!” they shouted in unison, their favorite part of the morning.

“And what’s the second rule?” I asked, feigning confusion.

“No taxis!” they cried.

“And the last rule?” I asked, standing tall, fighting to keep the pride from showing on my face.

“Don’t go near Paradise City!” they screeched, as they hurried out the door, searching for whatever scraps of a meal the day might offer.

Poor Yelena watched them leave, and I could see the tears threatening to well in her eyes. I walked up to her bed and gently patted her head. “Well, kiddo, since you’re two years old now, how about you come with me today?” I said, helping her off the bed.

Her eyes lit up, surprise flooding her face. “Really? Really, really? I get to come with you?” she asked, clutching onto my tattered pants.

I smiled down at her, cupping her cheeks gently. “Yeah, kiddo, I promised.”

But then her expression faltered. She let go of me, her joy shifting to something else. Without another word, she ran to Maria, who was already packing up the dice and cups for later.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, stunned. I thought this was what she wanted—why was she upset now? Time was running out. The festival would start in three hours, and we needed to leave soon to secure a good booth near the entrance.

She peeked out from behind Maria’s leg. “I’m not two,” she said defiantly, chin raised.

“Oh really? Then when was your last birthday?” I asked playfully, relieved. I stood, searching for a beer bottle to give Tatiana before we headed out. Hopefully, she'd find something else we could use for defense if needed.

“Last year!” she snapped, clearly miffed I couldn’t remember something so simple.

“But today only happens every four years. How could it be last year?” I asked skeptically, handing the bottle to Tatiana before turning back to Yelena.

“Every day is every day—last year or this year!” she retorted, clearly finding the concept of a leap year silly. I agreed, but figured we’d played enough.

I checked Maria, making sure she looked like a boy rather than the woman she was growing too much into. Things would get harder when she reached seventeen, but for now, I was just glad she passed for a boy.

“You make the ugliest man I’ve ever seen,” I teased, hoisting Yelena onto my back. Her little hand immediately wrapped around my neck.

“If I was a man, I’d at least shave better than you, Boris,” she shot back, grinning as she wrapped a cloth around Yelena and me.

I tied it tight across my chest, making sure Yelena wouldn’t fall out. She laughed each time I jumped a little to test it. Then, we started walking. It was pitch-black outside, but at least it wasn’t too cold here.

Yelena kept asking me questions about leap years, still upset that I didn’t get she was eight, not two. Before people started filing out of their homes, I turned to Maria, bowed, and asked in the most fink voice I could muster, “Well, good sir, may I ask your name of the day?”

“Such a polite lad,” she replied in kind. “My name will be Slava.”

I never understood why she liked that guy so much. Probably his face. Or the title.

“The Saint of Kaleidos among us,” I said sarcastically. “I’m honored you’d grace us lowly civvies with your presence.”

She sniffed but kept walking.

My legs were cramping from carrying Yelena, but I didn’t let it show. I wanted today to be special for her. After all, it was the leap year. Supposedly, finks were stronger on the exact anniversary, not just during the festival. Because of this, there were always more people this time around.

“Why do we have to walk so far?” Yelena asked, sounding as though she was walking herself, now that we’d turned the corner toward Goudstad.

“Paradise City’s in the way, kiddo. Otherwise, it'd be a half-hour walk to the festival,” I replied gently, always ready to teach her when she asked questions.

“Why does Paradise exist?” she asked, sounding more annoyed.

I just laughed and kept walking. I was hoping to make enough money today to buy what we needed to move. We were so close. I could feel it. Didn’t know where yet—just away. I’d figure out the rest later.

We were so close. Yeah, I had a good feeling about today.

It was going to be something special.