Chapter One

Summer 1107 PT

The shot from the gun ringing in the room was the only sound heard in the stillness. After that, the silence that filled the air was almost deadly. Nearly one hundred pairs of eyes stared widely at Samuel Willaker; his own eyes were on the gun in his hand that was currently shaking as though he was in the middle of an earthquake.

His breath was shallow as he stared at the cold, death-bringing metal weapon, praying fervently that the hand holding it was not his own. It had to be someone else’s. He didn’t even know how to hold a gun, much less shoot it. In all of his 26 years of being a strict pacifist, he had never even looked at a gun twice. So… logically, that could not be his hand. It was impossible.

But it was his hand. And that was very unfortunate for poor Samuel.

For the first time since the smoke from the revolver had cleared, Samuel allowed his eyes to trail away from it. At first, he couldn’t make his vision focus. Maybe he didn’t want to. Maybe he knew that if he did, he’d have to come to terms with what he had just done. And right then his brain couldn’t even wrap around the fact that he had shot the damned gun. So how could it hope to process the fact that he had just…

His eyes focused first on the puddle of blood that seemed to grow unnaturally on the floor, spreading its inky, thick, warm self as though trying to tell the whole world that Samuel Willaker was now a murderer. His breathing accelerated even more. He could feel that sickening pit in his stomach grow as the reality of the situation was beginning to settle on him. He felt the dew on his forehead accumulating and trailing down, the salty droplets falling into his hazel eyes. He wished, not for the first time in his life, that he could fall into the floor and disappear from the room. He wished it more intensely than he ever had before.

Samuel’s hand would not go down. He held it in the same position, though not of his own choice. His eyes finally locked on the body on the floor lying next to the blood puddle. So much blood… Did one human body really contain that much blood?

He felt sick.

Lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling with unseeing, blank eyes, was the man he had just shot. His mouth was agape, the shock of what just happened still on his face. The hole in the middle of his forehead glared at Samuel like a third eye, accusing him more with each second of the crime he had just committed. The puddle expanding around his head like a growing, deep red halo extended all the way to the bar behind him.

It had taken all of five seconds—five long, anguishing, quiet seconds—for the reality of what just happened to settle in. And it took that long for the screaming to start.

Winter 1105 PT

To say that it was cold outside was a drastic understatement. Melanie Skivert’s breath practically turned to ice as soon as it left her mouth as she trudged through the shin-deep snow. She couldn’t wait to get home; her mind was suddenly filled with visions of a neatly built fire in the fireplace, hot narnak’s milk sluicing warmth into her stomach and through her body, and a cozy blanket around her shoulders. It made her move faster in the snow.

“Melanie!” She immediately recognized the voice and smiled, turning readily towards the sight of a tall, wiry man making his way towards her in the dim light of dusk. He waved at her in the distance, and she waved back. He cupped his mitten-covered hand around his mouth and shouted, “What are you doing out so late?”

She stopped walking. It was a great testament to her admiration of Sam that she did such an action; his calling after her was possibly the only thing that would delay her from the warmth waiting for her at home.

“I had to deliver some of Mom’s narnak milk to Aunt Gussie,” she hollered back, mimicking him by cupping her own covered hand around her mouth. He approached her quickly—his long legs gave him a stride almost double that of her own. “What about you?” she asked, removing her hand from around her mouth. “What are you doing outside? Shouldn’t you be home, working on some crazy genius invention of sorts?”

Sam laughed and scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “What makes you think I’ve even got one to work on?”

She nudged his ribs, having to raise her elbow a good bit in order to do so. “You always have something to work on in there,” she said with a suspicious glance at him. He smiled down at her silently and continued walking in the direction of their village. She followed suit, but persisted with the subject. “So? Do you?”

He chuckled and looked down at her from behind his thin bifocals. “I might.”

Excitement bubbled in Melanie’s chest. “What is it? Is it as cool as the self-lighting furnace? Or the two-person steamboat? Or the single-seat airship? Or the—”

“It’s a bit different than those,” Sam said, cutting her off. The gleam in his eyes showed a level of pride that she knew that many of his inventions. “It’s more for… entertainment than for productive use.”

Melanie’s eyes grew wide. “Really?” She looked up at him and tugged on the sleeve of his jacket. “You’re going to show me, right?”

He smirked. “Yes. I will show it to you. But when it’s done.”

She frowned at his response, feeling impatient. “Are you going to give me a hint as to what it is?”

He reached over and poked her nose with a mitten-covered hand. “It’s a surprise.”

It was silent for a moment as she thought about this. When an idea occurred to her, Melanie slowly looked at him out of the corner of her eyes. “Will I see it… in two weeks?”

Sam made an obvious effort not to smile. “It’s a very good possibility.”

“Perhaps… on the 23rd of this month?” she prodded, her grin growing.

“Again, a very good possibility.”

She gasped in delight and danced around him, her hands making muted clapping noises as she slapped them together joyously. “You’re making me a birthday gift!” she practically sang.

He laughed and caught her arm, making her stop dancing around him. “You’re like a child,” he commented, though not in an offending way. “Aren’t you too old to be so excited about birthdays?”

“It’s not the birthday itself I’m excited for,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him. “You always make the coolest things. You know I’ve been dying to have one.”

“And that,” he said softly, placing a hand on the top of her head, “is why I’m making one specifically for you for your 21st birthday.” He ruffled her dark brown, curly hair playfully, causing her to scowl. “Even though you act like you’re turning 12.”

She folded her arms and stuck her nose in the air. “I feel that youth is a state of mind; it shouldn’t go away, no matter how old you get.”

Sam thought on this for a second, putting his hand in his pocket again and staring up at the night sky. He was starting to see one of the three moons peaking around a thick cloud overhead. Its bright light helped illuminate the pathway in front of the two travelers, separating it from the deeper snow on the other sides of it. He was glad that it was a fairly bright night out; he wasn’t comfortable with Melanie walking home alone at night, despite how much she had made this very trek. Sure, she was old enough to fend for herself, but he wouldn’t feel right letting her out alone like this.

“Well,” he finally responded, “you certainly live up to that motto.”

“And you act more and more like an old man with each year,” she muttered.

“I am an old man,” he commented playfully.

“You’re only four years older than me,” Melanie pointed out. “You shouldn’t act like you’re forty years older.”

“Maybe I’m making up for your lack of mental growth.”

“Are you calling me stupid?”

He laughed and ruffled her hair again. “You’re not stupid,” he clarified. “You’re just a kid. That’s all.”

To his surprise, he felt her stiffen from next to him. He looked down at her, finding her face hidden behind her hair as she looked down at the path. The sudden switch in atmosphere caught him off-guard, though he hoped he was misreading her reaction to his statement. Surely she knew he was joking.

“I’m not a kid,” she said in a firm voice. She tossed her head back to look up at him with determined, fiery eyes. “I’m a grown woman.”

“Melanie, I—”

“And just because you, Samuel Willaker, can’t see that doesn’t mean that I’m any less of a woman,” she said, straightening up a little more and tilting her chin a bit. “I’m plenty of a woman.”

“I was just—,” he tried again.

“I’m strong, sturdy, smart, and I can handle myself,” she interrupted. “I am a fine young woman, if I do say so myself.”

“I never said that you—”

“I’m woman enough to know what I want,” she went on. “I’m woman enough to get it, too.” She glared up at him, and all he could do was take the force of her sudden attack of affirmation on her maturity in complete confusion. “Did you know that Nathan Greene and Kenneth Talbot just across the courtyard have both sent me moon flowers, asking to court me?”

“No,” he said, raising his eyebrows at the news. “I didn’t. What did you say?”

“That’s beside the point,” she said, waving him off. “I’m woman enough for them! And dammit, Samuel Willaker, I’m woman enough for you!”

Melanie halted. So did Sam.

In one second, her eyes went from the narrow, accusing, defensive slits to wide, shocked orbs of bluish green. She threw her hands in front of her mouth, gasping as though it was Sam who had said something shocking. Her face went bright red, more so than it had already been from the reaction of the biting cold on her cheeks.

As for Sam, all he could do was stare down at her in shocked silence, his hands dangling uselessly at his sides. His brain refused to take in what he just heard, though the quickening of his heart told him that the rest of him processed it completely.

“M-Melanie, I—” he whispered after a long, painful moment of frozen silence.

And before he could say a word, Melanie was gone. Her hair and skirts whipped behind her as she ran in the direction of the village, fading quickly in the night. Sam knew that he could have easily chased her. He could have caught up to her and made a joke to alleviate the tension and pretend that the slip hadn’t happened. But, if he was completely honest with himself, he didn’t know what he would say to her. His brain was still having a hard time catching up to what the rest of him already understood.

It wasn’t until the snow started to fall around him and the lack of momentum caused his body to shake with cold that he started walking slowly towards the lights of the village, his mind still blank.