Chapter 1

I

Lees had been twenty for less than three hours when she was abruptly woken by a knock at her door. The silence that followed had palpable weight somehow, like the calm before a storm. Her half-asleep brain teetered on the edge of indecision – get up or fall back asleep? But then the sound of closed fists pounding furiously broke through the fog and forced her to stumble out of bed. 

The pounding continued as she shuffled forward. When she finally made her way to the entryway, two readily armed chippers crowded the doorway. Their mouths moved, but Lees couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. Then their hands extended toward her, and they offered to escort her to the train station, more of a statement than a request. Two steps backward, and she could have darted out the back door, but she found her legs moving forward without her consent. She watched her feet, now clad in boots she did not remember putting on, shift from aqua tile to the gray carpet of the hall and then the crimson pavers outside. The chippers’ rugged hands clasped tightly onto her shoulders as they led her down the neatly paved pathway, away from the only home she had ever known.

Lees studied the strangers whose fingers were driving bruises into her skin. The older man was just doing his job, she decided. His round face was sullen and weathered with reddish cheeks that indicated a love of spiced moss liquor. There was no joy in his expression, just resolve. The younger one, though, he enjoyed hunting Mites. He was a sickly looking man with a too-thin frame that swam in his uniform. His eyes glimmered in what she could only describe as glee, as if feeding on her panic.  

She considered running, fighting back, anything, but the younger man locked eyes with her, and it was as if she were trapped. Her stomach hitched as she stared into the blackness of his pupils, which widened and widened as he laughed until she felt herself swallowed whole. Lees’ heart hammered, and she started to cry out – 

Lees jolted awake tangled in her sheets. Again. The chippers’ faces swam before her eyes in excruciating detail before her vision adjusted to the thin light coming through the curtains. 

She was sick of this ritual. Most mornings, Lees would lie there in her little room above Teeg’s repair shop, her thoughts spiraling and worming their way through the events of that day. The memories would come in painful waves until she arrived at the face of her mother.  

Wilta, that was her name. Wilta was crying. 

No. Weeping, Lees corrected herself. Weeping and wailing as she clawed at the arms of the men while shouting her name. A last desperate attempt to stop the inevitable. 

“Lees, Lees, my sweet! I love you!” Her mother had shouted over and over, then finally declared at the top of her voice, “I will find you.” 

But she wouldn’t, not really. She couldn’t. That was part of the deal – the agreement that kept life in the Quarters stable, kept Hyper workers productive, and kept bloodlines progressing into the future without the taint of a Mite. There was no place for her there now that she was an adult, even if her mother did find her someday. 

Until that morning, Lees had only vague ideas of what happened to Mites when they reached adulthood. Nobody liked to talk about it, and why would they? Families blighted by one were too ashamed to speak of it, and those with normal children attuned to Hyper had no reason to worry about it. 

So when Lees found herself in the train car all alone – save for the chipper escorts trying to ignore her – all she could do was try to keep her breathing even and submit to her new reality. They rode deeper into the cave systems until arriving at what must have been the lowest level of the entire kingdom.

Two years had passed since then, but the memories of that dreadful day continued to steal precious hours of sleep every night. Lees sighed, knowing she couldn’t delay getting up any longer. 

Grumbling, Lees swung her feet out of bed but kept them hovering above the ground. She stared down at the faded green wool socks, smiling as the image of her mother bent over knitting them late into the night. She’d finished the day before her 20th birthday and had proudly presented them to Lees right away, too excited to even wrap them. As she did every morning, Lees carefully pulled them off her feet, folded them, and tucked them in the bedside drawer. 

Then, wincing in anticipation, she bounded out of bed with bare feet and skittered across the freezing stone floor to the radiator where her work socks had been drying out from the day prior. She dressed quickly, trying to preserve the fleeting warmth she had felt moments ago in her bed. Lees pulled on the thick overalls and a baggy stitched sweater. Tucking her silver hair under the collar, Lees fitted a buff over her neck. Finally, she thrust her feet into the too-large work boots. They’d been hand-me-downs from Teeg when she had come to stay with him. Every time she touched them, she could hear his gruff voice in her head: “You’ll grow intu-em.” She kept trying to explain to him that she was in fact fully grown, but his response had been to put her in a headlock and laugh loudly as she swatted at him, assuring her, “No one’s done growin’, kid!”

II

Lees hated how quickly the rushing air in the mine drifts chilled the sweat on her body. Somehow, she was always somewhere between overheating and shivering. She paused for just a moment, allowing her hand drill to rest against the stone wall as she leaned her small frame against it. An errant strand of silvery hair fell onto her forehead, and she impatiently jabbed it back under her helmet. 

The time to take three full breaths was the longest she’d allow herself to stop moving. Anything longer could garner attention, and there wasn’t much down here less dangerous than that. 

A line of inch-thick circles arched behind her drill as she worked her way around a small but dense node of Hyper. She was careful to only drill through the rock surrounding the hyper and not the hyper itself. It was tedious work. Other miners would usually pass over nodes like this, assuming the small size was valueless. The company, however, would make more money off this lemon-yellow node as it would sell for a higher price. Darker color meant denser Hyper, which meant more money in her pocket. That's the only fact that mattered to Lees.

Most of these guys couldn’t spot the difference anyway, Lees thought to herself with a smirk. 

“You’re too precise,” A mocking voice said from behind Lees. She looked over her shoulder without easing the pressure on her drill. Yon, a miner in his mid-thirties whose grizzled face made him look twice that age, was eying her work. 

“It slows you down,” Yon continued as he crunched down on an oat bar. 

Lees pulled the drill out of the wall and let the weight of it rest on her leg. While her drill might have been older than most of the other miners', the bit and housing beneath the scuffed paint were pristine. If its outer appearance wasn’t enough of a theft deterrent, she placed sticky labels in a uniform grid around the entire body proclaiming ‘PROPERTY OF LEES - DO NOT TOUCH!’

She slid her large ear protection off and turned to the man with a raised eyebrow before responding, “What?”

“You’re still way too slow,” Yon repeated, then took an enormous bite of the oat bar. Lees eyed it enviously. Her next meal was still hours away. 

“I’m not slow. You just think that because you’re careless,” Lees responded. She nodded pointedly toward Yon’s drill, which he’d tossed onto the sizable pile of Hyper dust he had extracted. Many of the larger pieces had crumbled under the force of the throw and weight of the machine. 

She studied him and tried to ignore the remaining oat bar in his hands before continuing, “Its frailty is part of what makes it so valuable, actually. If you were just a little more careful, you could keep more of it intact. See, the thing about fully fledged hyper is-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know the line,” Yon said dismissively. His cheeks bulged with the last hunk of his snack. “Just 'cause you grew up craftsman don’t mean you’re smarter’n us. We know this i’nt true hyper, just the dust,” He swallowed with enormous effort, then brushed the crumbs from his shirt. He waved dismissively at Lees’ pile, then his, “But they only pay us for what we pull out of this wall, kid. It’s too fragile, takes too long to get through the bedrock. Time is money. You want to waste both, be my guest.”

The miner bent down and yanked his drill off the pile, causing more of the Hyper to splinter and spill out across the ground near his feet. She winced at the sight of wasted dust floating away in the stale air of the corridor. 

Lees watched Yon place his drill on top of the deposit he was removing. There was so much Hyper left inside the hole he made by drilling directly into the crystal, but it was all lost in his haphazard approach. An invisible pressure pushed against her chest as she watched the man aggressively shift his drill back and forth, working the bit to break off another chunk. 

“That fancy education of yours don’t mean nothing when you’re crawling down in the dark,” Yon sneered, before ripping the drill back to life. Lees scrambled to put her hearing protection back on. She'd learned quickly that this was just how people were in mine towns. Teeg aside, Last Light was no exception. The deeper you go, the harder the people are.

CRAAANG! 

Even though the shift bell was so loud it vibrated her teeth, it always brought an immediate smile to Lees’ face. She slid her last, perfectly chiseled Hyper node out of the wall and hefted it into her Granby car with great care. Hers was overflowing with nodes of all sizes glistening under the static lights.

Yon had dropped to his knees to hastily scoop dust into his car. Like his drill, his rail cart was in bad condition. The iron frame was riddled with small holes that allowed Hyper to slip out as it moved. She paused for a moment and considered helping him sweep up the last bit, but then she caught him glaring at her. 

Lees grinned before hopping onto the pegs she’d installed on her car and yanking the lever. She swayed as it snagged the drag line running between the rails. The car – which was papered in stickers matching her drill – rolled smoothly along the tracks on freshly greased wheels through the drift into the main shaft. She held her breath as the foreman dropped her hyper haul into the skip, silently checking that each node remained intact as it tumbled out. Lees accepted the slip of paper with her day's weight and corresponding pay, and just managed to squeeze into the cage before it began its first ascent of the evening.

When the first wave of fresh air smacked her cheeks, Lees yanked her helmet and hat off so it could run through her damp silver hair. She spread her arms to let the rolling air cool the sweat-slick parts of her body through her mining attire. Exiting the mine instantly lifted her mood, not only because her shift was over, but also because she was meeting up with Teeg right away, per his request. 

Today was a particularly special day, and Lees couldn’t contain her excitement anymore.

III

Lees burst through the door of Teeg’s Repair Shop. The smile on her face had grown with each step on the way there, and she was practically cackling as she skittered inside and clamped the heavy door closed behind her. 

“Teeeeeeeg!” She shouted. 

The main floor of the shop was strictly for business. Every inch of the place, from floor to ceiling, was cluttered with machine parts, fasteners, grease, and a large assortment of tchotchkes he’d collected over the years. A trio of figures with wobbly heads bobbed next to the register when Lees stomped by. 

Beneath the comforting stench of grease and oil, Lees noticed the sharp smell of pink root and spices permeating from the floor above. 

“Is he making curry!?” 

Lees yanked off her boots and raced upstairs, cradling them under one arm. She smacked against the wall as she hit the landing at full speed, the promise of the savory stew too much of a distraction. Lees dropped her boots just inside her bedroom door, nearly missing their designated mat, and slid into the living room on her socks. 

“Uh-oh, she’s home!” A deep voice boomed from the cramped kitchen at the back of the apartment.

“What did you make me!?” Lees shouted.

“I ain’t making you nothing!” Teeg growled back.

“Well then, what are you doing?” She probed. Lees moved to slide open the kitchen door, but it resisted her – a large booted foot pressed against the other side, just visible in the tiny gap between door and floor. 

Undeterred, Lees raised herself to her toes and hung from the small porthole in the door, trying to catch a glimpse of what Teeg was working on. The large man’s back blocked her view of whatever it was. 

“Quit hanging on my hinges!” Teeg griped. “And for your information, I am working on… Dannel’s broken compressor.”

“In the kitchen?” Lees asked incredulously.

“Yes, in the kitchen!” 

Lees pitched forward. Teeg had removed his foot, and the door swung forward sharply. She grabbed the counter and managed to stop herself from falling on her face. 

“Nice of you to give me a hand. Deglaze those roots for me, then get out,” Teeg said, keeping his back to her. He covered whatever he was working on with a baking towel before turning to rinse off his hands. 

“I knew it,” She hummed happily. Lees poured a few glugs of cooking liquor into the iron pan and reached for the wooden spoon as it sizzled with smoke, heat, and a fragrant spiciness. She scraped the transparent root off the bottom of the pan and expertly flipped them before returning them to the heat and lowering the temperature. The static coil of the burner shifted in color from a bright red to a deep maroon.

The coil pulsing with energy was mesmerizing. She stared at it, almost imagining she could see the currents of Hyper flowing through it, lost in thought. Lees jumped slightly as Teeg gently put a hand on her back and pushed her out of the kitchen. 

“Go sit, curry will be done in a minute.”

Lees slouched into one of the mismatched chairs at the dining table and watched the kitchen door swing lazily back and forth until it finally came to rest again. Through the porthole Lees could see Teeg adding more ingredients to the pan. Steam billowed out and curled upward toward the vent in the ceiling. 

She sighed. Teeg seemed his usual self. With nothing else to do or look at, Lees’ thoughts swarmed from all sides, hijacking her mood. 

Had he really forgotten what day it was? Or did he remember, but not care?

Was it not a big deal to him? 

Lees tried to push that aside, but an unpleasant pit was forming in her stomach.

Would it be annoying to ask? It’s not like I’m really his family, maybe it doesn’t matter that it’s been two years to the day since he invited me to stay...

Then – without warning – maybe he regrets it.

That one was too much to bear. Lees wrenched her eyes upward and leaned her head on the back of the chair to stare at the ceiling. She began tracing the cracked plaster lines from one side of the room to the other, slowly following each trajectory as it intersected and split from the others. Her eyes lingered on one jagged shape that perfectly mirrored the scar that ran along Teeg’s nose and left cheek. 

The scar was a mystery. Teeg was much older than Lees, at least in his mid-forties, and wasn’t one to talk about his past. For all she knew, it could have been an accident. But there was something about him that made her question whether there wasn’t some deeper meaning behind it. 

Lees let out another prolonged sigh. She really didn’t know that much about him even after living under the same roof all this time. 

Today wasn’t that special, she told herself. Nothing ever changed down here, so what’s another normal day? She wasn’t special.

“Hey Teeg…” Lee called out. She tried her best to project, but her voice still cracked a bit.

“In your head again?” Teeg responded. Lees shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Why was he so good at reading her?

“No,” She said quickly. Too quickly. 

“OK, well that’s a lie,” Teeg said with a scoff as he backed his way out of the kitchen door. “It ain’t much, but I hope you like it!” He shouted, turning to reveal the curry in one hand and a giant blue frosted cake in the other.

Lees’ face lit up. She felt like bursting into tears, but forced a cough instead. “I- uh.”

“Don’t tell me you forgot! We have to celebrate the day you came to stay with me,” Teeg said jovially. Lees scrambled to move the half-finished projects out of the way to make room for the plates. 

Teeg had outdone himself with the curry. Thick pieces of potatoes and mushrooms swam in the creamy curry sauce, and he’d arranged flower-shaped carrot slices on the surface on top of the sautéed pink roots. 

She pulled her eyes away from the beautiful dish to look up at the large, bald man wearing a tan apron lined with floral stitching. His eyes crinkled as he smiled proudly, though his smile faltered a fraction when he noticed the tears welling in her eyes. 

“It’s my favorite day of the year, and not just because we get cake,” He said, then looked down and made a sound somewhere between a cough and clearing his throat. Lees swallowed hard around the lump forming in her throat. 

“Come on now, don’t let it get cold. Dig in!” Teeg proclaimed, then clapped his hands and reached for the crackle shards. He winked at her before palming the small edible stonelike chunks and cracking them over the cake. They sputtered to life, popping and fizzing over the blue icing before melting into its surface. The white frosting piped in a line along the edges of the cake dripped down the sides – a decorative, personal touch that perfectly captured Teeg’s style. 

“It’s perfect,” Lees assured him while cutting herself an enormous slice.

The two nearly made it to the end of their meal without disruption, a rare, peaceful moment, before a whining suction sound followed by a dull metal clank pierced through the room. 

“Looks like we got mail,” Lees said. She pulled one last spoonful of curry into her mouth, then she hopped out of her seat and sped down the stairs towards the source of the sound. She stood on the bottom step, avoiding the cold stone floor of the shop, and dislodged the hefty metal cylinder. Rushing air hissed from the cylinder’s resting place at the base of the brass tubes piped along the building from the outside. One tube sent and one received, each one marked with a corresponding arrow.

Lees popped the lid off the tube and retrieved the small postcard from within. She placed the canister back in the tray and ascended the steps slowly as she read its contents. 

BURGERMAKER BROKEN…AGAIN - PLEASE HELP — JEZ.

“Jez,” Lees whispered to herself as she closed the apartment door behind her.

“What’d we get?” Teeg called out from the dining room through a mouthful of curry. Lees stood in the hallway, eying her boots before glancing down at the kitchen door.

“Uh, nothing important, I can take it,” Lees yelled back. She tucked the note in her back pocket and scrambled to put her boots on.

“Wait a sec,” Teeg called out. “Come here before you leave.”

“Fine, but it sounds like an emergency,” Lees replied.

“Jez can wait a minute,” Teeg said, already knowing the request’s recipient. Lees only ever jumped at the jobs Jez sent. He gestured at a carefully wrapped bundle on the table that hadn’t been there before. Lees felt her cheeks flush from the combination of Teeg catching her running to Jez and the realization that he'd given her a present.

“It’s cold out there. Figured you should have this,” Teeg said. The words sounded rehearsed, but his voice wavered.  

Lees gently pulled back the cloth covering the square gift to reveal a black overcoat. It was crisply folded with the collar and breast pocket on top. The wrapping had done its job to protect the fabric from fading or bugs. Lees gently ran her hand down the front of the coat, admiring the stamped brass buttons. Nothing she owned felt like this – the fabric was thick but soft to the touch.

“Teeg, where did you get this? This is such a nice coat,” Lees looked up at him in shock. “We can’t afford something like this.”

Teeg swallowed hard and squinted a bit. “It’s – was – Ila's.”

Lees’ eyes went wide. Teeg never talked about his wife. 

“Oh…no. No, Teeg, I can’t take this,” She stepped back and waved her hands.

Teeg grabbed the coat and unfolded it. “It ain’t doing no good in that chest,” He said gruffly, then motioned for Lees to turn so he could slip it over her shoulders. The coat was big on her, but not by much. He ran his hand down the sleeve and gave her a hearty pat. 

“Looks good on you,” He said. Then, his voice dipping lower, he added, “Ah, she would have loved you.”

Lees didn’t cough this time. Instead, she let the tears come, hot and heavy with the tsunami of emotions roiling inside her. She plunged her face into Teeg’s chest and sobbed. Today marked two years of her losing her home, her family, her way of life. Two years since she’d arrived in Last Light. Now, today also marked the first time in two years that Lees cried.