It was nearly midnight. Triton glanced at the old brass clock on the bedside table and scowled, pressing his pillow to his face. He was exhausted from the day’s work, but his body refused to go to sleep.

  Triton kicked the heavy covers off and sat up, wincing as the old bed squeaked. The walls of the small cottage were paper-thin and he didn’t want to wake Frank. Stumbling into the dark room, he managed to find the box of matches on his desk.

  He rubbed his eyes and squinted, searching for the lantern. The candle was barely a silhouette in the dark room and Triton cursed under his breath as he burned his finger trying to light it.

  The small lantern barely illuminated half the room, but Triton didn’t want to waste resources by lighting another candle.

  He pulled out the wooden chair and sat down heavily on it, patting his sleep-messed hair down. He opened the worn book on the small table and flipped through it, careful not to rip the yellowing pages.

  Triton poured over the photographs, his eyes scanning the pages until he found the photo he was looking for.

  A young, blond boy sat in his mother’s lap. The pretty woman was laughing, looking up at a broad-shouldered man whose arms were wrapped around her shoulders. The man’s attention was fixed on the little boy, a wide smile spread out on his face as he stared proudly at his son.

  Triton felt a small smile touch his own lips. The photo had been taken at one of the balls in the capital, only a few weeks before his father had died and his mother had passed shortly after. It was one of the only memories of his parents that he had left.

  Uncle Fester had given it to him for his fourteenth birthday a couple of years ago. Triton felt guilt flood him at the thought of his kind-hearted uncle. He had given Triton much more than a shabby scrapbook. He had made sure that Triton had a place to call home.

  But, Triton had run away with nothing more than a note telling his aunt and uncle not to come after him. He had left them behind. He had left his sister behind. It was the only way to keep them safe. He didn’t know what he would do if the government came after them. He couldn’t be the reason that they got taken into custody.

  So, he had crept out of bed before sunrise and taken off with nothing more than a piece of bread, a canteen, and a map that he had circled the closest safe house on. When he had gotten there, Frank had welcomed him with open arms. Usually, Uniques left a couple of weeks after they received the help they needed, but it had been almost two years since Triton had darkened Frank’s doorstep.

  In return for food and sanctuary, Triton worked for the old man and helped out with whatever was needed. But, it hadn’t taken long for Triton to start to think of Frank as family.

  Triton closed the book and returned it to its place at the back of the desk. Careful not to touch the hot wax, he blew out the lantern and hung it on the hook above his bed. He climbed back into bed - sighing as the lumpy mattress creaked again - and closed his eyes. Usually, the book helped him sleep, but he felt even more awake. He stared at the ceiling for a few more minutes before his stomach growled.

  Triton sighed. He stood back up and raised his arms above his head, stretching. He quietly walked to the door and it squeaked painfully as he opened it.

  “Triton?”

  The boy looked up. A man was sitting on one of the chairs at the circular table, his glasses lopsided on his face. He scratched his grey beard and raised his eyes expectantly at Triton.

  “What are you doing up so late? We have a busy day tomorrow.”

  “I couldn’t sleep,” Triton admitted. “I was hoping that something to eat would help.”

  Frank smiled and waved his hand towards the small kitchen.“Go ahead. Get me something too, I think I’ll be here for a while.”

  “Is milk okay?”

  Frank nodded absentmindedly, his attention fixed on reading a letter.

  “What are you working on?” Triton asked, noticing the stack of envelopes and parchment spread out on the table.

  Frank shrugged. “More and more Uniques are getting into trouble with the government. They’re running out of safe houses to place them in. I offered to take a few in, now I just have to send some paperwork back to General Woods so she can approve it.”

  Triton’s eyes lit up in excitement. He was dying to see some new people. “When are they arriving?”

  “Day after tomorrow. Two Uniques got cornered in the North Woods, surrounded by hunters. Rebel scouts spotted them, but they weren’t able to interfere. You know how the rebels are, they’re too scared to get caught.” Frank sighed, “I don’t blame them though. It’s extremely risky to be in sight of any hunter, especially now that the bounties have increased. But, I have nothing to lose, so I thought that I might try to help out. It’s the least I can do after all the favors the General has done for us.”

  “Wait, you’re going? You’re going into the forest?”

  Frank arched an eyebrow. “Yes. It’s barely a day’s trip away.”

  Triton hesitated as he poured the milk into the pot hanging inside the hearth of the chimney. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?”

  Triton bit his lip. “I don’t know. You haven’t seen action for a while.”

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  Frank threw his head back and laughed. “Ouch. Is that a reference to my age?”

  Triton shrugged. “It’s just a little risky. Maybe you should sit this one out.”

  Frank shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’m not too sure about that,” Triton said, half-serious. “You’re reaching, what, 66 next month?”

  “67,” Frank corrected. “But, regardless, I’m still in perfect shape.”

  Triton snorted and gestured to the walking stick leaning against the wall. “If a hunter tackles you, it’s over.”

  Frank chortled, “Like your stubby legs could outrun one of them. Stop trying to babysit me, son. I’ll be fine.”

  Triton shook his head and carefully stirred the warming milk. “I’m serious, Frank. You could get seriously hurt. I think it’s best if you pass on this.”

  “Oh, stop it. You’re just cranky because you’ll miss me.”

  Triton stared at the pot for a second before turning his head to look the man in the eye. “I just don’t want you to get yourself killed.”

  “I won’t get killed.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  Frank’s smile slipped and Triton felt his heart drop at the man’s expression. It broke his heart to see Frank so exhausted and weak. He knew that there was a high chance that Frank wouldn’t survive the trip and the boy wasn’t willing to take that risk.

  The old man sighed and ran a hand through his balding hair, “There’s not enough time to let the rebels know that they'll have to transfer the mission to someone else. Those kids will die if we don’t help them soon, is that what you want?”

  “That’s not the only way!” Triton protested. “I’ll go!”

  Frank snorted, "You?”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t have any training.”

  “You’ve been training me! I’ve got this!”

  “Triton…”

  “I can do it!”

  “No, Triton!”

  “Why not? You said it yourself, those Uniques will die if-”

  “I said no!”

  Frank’s voice turned angry and Triton flinched, dropping the spoon on the cobblestone floor. He bent down to pick it up, his face red. He was ready, why couldn’t Frank see that? For months on end, Frank had been teaching him how to fight. He knew how to throw a dagger and handle a bow. Not only that, Frank had taught him how to control his powers. He was more than prepared to face a few hunters.

  The boy looked back up and frowned as he noticed the wrinkles covering Frank’s face. The man seemed extremely worn down, and Triton bit his lip. He probably wasn’t helping anything by arguing. But, Triton didn’t want Frank to go. He couldn’t lose him.

  “What if nobody went?”

  Frank stared at him.“What?”

  “You don’t want me to go, and I’m not letting you go. Is it really necessary to take this mission on?”

  “And leave those kids out there by themselves?”

  Triton shrugged. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t see any other option.

  Frank sighed and shook his head. “No. I’d rather die trying than not do anything at all.”

  “And what would become of me?” Triton asked, a lump forming in his throat. “What would happen if you were killed and-”

  “You would take my place managing the safe house,” Frank replied simply. “I have lived a full and plentiful life, Triton. It’s only a matter of time before the hourglass runs out. You need to be prepared for that.”

  “I know.”

  Triton was quiet as the milk started to boil. He ladled it into two mugs and passed one to Frank. He was uncomfortable in the terse silence and he wished that he had never brought it up. He hated arguments, and he knew that Frank did too. But, at the same time, he didn’t want to let this go. Frank was smart and resourceful, but Triton feared that the old man wasn’t valuing his life by making this decision.

  He slid into one of the chairs across Frank and fidgeted awkwardly as held the mug to his lips, his fingers tingling at the sudden warmth of the cup.

  “I bought some shortbread cookies,” Frank said as he sipped the milk. “They were on sale at the market yesterday, and I thought that we could celebrate your birthday.”

  “My birthday?”

  The old man nodded and jerked his head to the large grandfather clock. The two arrows were pointed directly up and Triton felt his heart jump. It was midnight. With everything going on, his birthday had completely slipped his mind.

  “I suppose it hasn’t started off to a great start though, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Triton replied. “I started it.”

  “Still. I always feel guilty about arguing with you, especially on your special day.”

  Triton shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. There’s nobody I’d rather spend my birthday with than you.”

  Frank chuckled lightly and shook his head, but Triton meant it. From the moment he had met him, Frank had always been there for him. The man was a father figure towards him and Triton loved him with all his heart. He adored others in his life, but he enjoyed the old man’s company immensely. He was beyond grateful that Frank had come into his life.

  “They’re in the cupboard, behind the plates,” Frank said suddenly and Triton started, shaking himself out of his thoughts. “I hid them the best I could. I know they’re your favorite and I didn’t want you eating them too soon.”

  Triton dipped his head as he scrambled out of the chair and pulled open the cabinet door. “I would have eaten them all at once,” he admitted.

  He knew it was childish to be so excited over cookies, but it had been so long since he had tasted something sweet. Their weekly rations didn’t exactly include dessert.

  Triton quickly found the small box wedged between the ceramic bowls and plates. He turned around to place the prize on the table, inhaling deeply at the delicious aroma. He couldn’t help but feel impressed. Sugar was a rarity these days. It must have been difficult for Frank to get his hands on the cookies.

  The earlier tension had vanished at the sight of the sprinkled cookies and Frank smiled warmly at him.

  “Happy birthday, Triton. I hope seventeen treats you well.”