Olenar jolted awake as the wind tram screeched to a halt. He wiped a string of drool on his coat sleeve and sat up, disoriented, while passengers jostled past. Ahead, the tram operator unlatched the roof hatch, climbed the fixed ladder, and bellowed into the open air.

  “Outbound, three stops until Shandi! All aboard!”

  Three stops—that was all they had between them and the last investor in the city worth their stones. A string of dead ends in Central left them with nothing but air. Those empty weeks slaving away in this gloom-cursed city left them desperate, so Outward it was.

  Crowded streets edged past the window as the tram unfurled its sails and lurched into motion. The Rosol hung low, a burnished orange against the clouded sky, barely peaking over the tallest frontage buildings. This far darkward, the red sun clung to the horizon lower than what was natural. It felt like a ghost of its brightward self.

  Occasionally, desperate rays managed to claw through the gray to refract off the sprinkling mists, casting a cascade of colorful, short-lived rainbows above the red-tile rooftops. But, mostly, it was just shades of gray. He frowned.

  Jayf, slumped in the seat next to Olenar with his cap pulled over his eyes, released a soft snore. Olenar nudged the man with an elbow.

  “Hmm? Are we there?” he said, sitting up in a hurry. Jayf snugged the cap tight to his head before looking up at Olenar with red eyes. “Looks like we’re still moving…”

  Jayf had grown a ridiculous mustache since they’d been in the capital—swore it made him look extra “distinguished.” Olenar thought it made him look like a child with facial hair.

  “We need to go through the presentation. This might be our last shot.”

  The small Leshar yawned and stretched before rubbing some sleep from his eyes. Jayf was too carefree—in the end, it wasn’t his money on the line. Jayf got to sit back on his tiny ass and see where the dice landed. For Olenar, this was make or break.

  He had spent over a full black since coming to Novo Cicaado. It had gotten them exactly nowhere. Some called it a City of Dreams, but to Olenar, it was more the Center of Insomnia—where his dreams came to die. He rubbed his eyes, the details of the meeting slipping through his fingers like grit.

  “Okay, our investor’s name is—”

  “U?ilan Gotten,” Jayf finished. “A prominent Zeerashee merchant in Outward.”

  “What does he want?”

  Jayf chuckled, looking up at Olenar sufferingly. “What does anyone want in this city?” Jayf slid his satchel from beneath the seat and propped it beside him.

  “Okay, sure, but how do we give that to them?” Olenar asked, already knowing the answer.

  Jayf fished out and shook a vial, mixing the black-flaked organic emulsion within. The blend appeared entirely dull to the naked eye. Olenar snatched it and proffered it to Jayf as if he were the investor.

  “What does this look like to you, sir?”

  Jayf screwed up his face to look imperious. “My good boy, that appears to be a bottle full of pond scum.” It was what an investor had said to them yesterday, played up a little. Olenar ignored him, focusing on his pitch.

  “This is Moment. We all know what it is because it’s everywhere. In the trees, the soil, and the very air we breathe. Moment is the lifeblood of our world. Lumivines use it to create light and halora to stay cool, but humans? We’ve never harnessed it. Not until now. Tapping into this awesome power will propel humanity into a new age.”

  Olenar’s heart set afire, a pot boiling with passion. He believed in the future this would bring—the merger of technology and Moment. They only needed someone else to subscribe—someone rich, specifically.

  “You’ve really got that part down. Now my turn.” Jayf mimed downing the vial before twiddling his fingers in the air. “Magic, magic, zip, and zap. Now, where do we sign?”

  Olenar glared. He was going to clobber the little mite; damn their years of friendship to the hells. Jayf just smiled at Olenar innocently, which pissed off Olenar even more.

  “So help me, if we were the same size…” he said, shaking a balled fist.

  “Hey, it’s not my fault you’re too good to beat me. Besides, I’ve got to somehow rebalance the scales for my people. It’s my duty.”

  “And how does getting on my nerves accomplish that? I’m the only Mestarian within Jayf-tossing distance that treats ‘your people’ as equals!” Olenar whisper-yelled. Several other riders speared them with annoyed glances, and Olenar flushed red.

  Jayf squinted and pursed his lips. “When you say it like that, I do sound like an arsehole.”

  “Thank you for admitting it,” Olenar said with an exhale.

  The tram screamed as they reached the next stop. While people cleared the cabin and new ones filed on, Jayf cleared his throat.

  “But, you know, my arsehole-ish-ness does depend on one crucial variable,” Jayf said, hesitating.

  “Whatever you’re about to say, don’t.”

  “How far can you toss me, you reckon?” Jayf finished, staring up at Olenar innocently.

  Olenar tried not to laugh. Jayf coughed out a laugh, and some of Olenar’s nerves melted away as his friend poked and prodded for a reaction. With a grin, Olenar snorted a chuckle. “I suppose that is true. But screw this up, Jayf, and I’ll personally finance that trial.”

  They relaxed into silence as another stop came and went. The city slid past the windows, growing less clean and unorganized. There was a reason they’d avoided Outward as long as they had: it was dangerous. Every illegal dealing in the city came through the windward slums.

  Olenar checked his bag for the fourth time, ensuring they had everything they’d need for this presentation ready and accounted for. The free body diagrams, the power outputs, and energy density calculations were all there. He checked again, just in case.

  “Olly, you’re panting like a dog. Calm down,” Jayf hushed.

  Olenar forced himself to breathe deeper and slower.

  The tram squealed and stopped. The conductor stood from her chair and walked across the tram aisle to the leeward chair.

  “Everybody off. You’re as windward as you’ll get with my services.”

  Olenar and Jayf waited until everyone else had disembarked before walking to the conductor. The Leshar woman sat reading the papers, unaware.

  “Excuse me,” Olenar said, getting her attention. “We’ve some cargo in the hold. Can you unlock it for us?”

  “Ah, you two characters. I almost forgot.” The conductor patted down her coat, feeling for keys. “Must have forgot them in the windward booth. Follow me. Your hunk of metal ain’t going nowhere.”

  They followed her across the tram, and she snatched a set of keys from a protruding bolt on the window frame.

  “What number?” she asked, stomping down the steps into the muddy street—it seemed they didn’t pave the roads this far from Central.

  “Six,” Jayf said as they followed her into the slop.

  Olenar’s first step left him thigh-deep in mud, while Jayf and the woman barely sunk into the mess. They walked ahead as Olenar struggled to catch up, squishing through while attempting not to lose his boots. Outward was starting to feel like a bad idea.

  The conductor unlocked bay six and swung open the compartment door. Inside, Olenar’s prototype engine glistened.

  The tram operator cleared her throat. “Could we hurry this along? You’re cutting into my special time. I gotta finish the paper before they wrangle me a leeward pull.”

  “Of course, apologies,” Olenar said with a curt bow. He reached in and pulled out the heavy hunk of ingenuity. It sank him deeper into the mud, almost to his knees. Grunting, he turned to the street. “Thank you for your services. Jayf, can you hand the lady a tip?”

  “I ain’t ever been called a lady,” the conductor chuckled. “You’ve got yourself a strange one, sir,” she said, speaking to Jayf as he fished out a white as a tip.

  “Yes, ma’am, he’s my special little friend. Here you go, and thanks again!” Jayf led the way, jogging ahead. Slowly, Olenar grunted through to follow.

  The conductor called out to them. “Best of luck in whatever you’ve got going on here. Be careful, mind—this place ain’t for the faint.”

  Shandi was the farthest ring from Central and caused the houses and businesses on the radial outstreet to seem almost straight, with no discernable curve to their travel. After Shandi, the roads devolved into halora trails and footpaths between scattered slums. People of all colors and sizes bustled through the glop on morning business, pulling handcarts, toting baskets, or manning frontage food stands with sizzling foods wafting over the busy.

  Olenar struggled to follow Jayf off the main thoroughfare up squeaky wooden stairs onto the frontage sidewalk. Thankfully, carrying the engine without the mud was much easier, and they quickly made their way through the crowd. Jayf turned occasionally, checking to see if Olenar was still there.

  After walking for a minute or two, Jayf slowed down to let Olenar catch up. Olenar used the time to rest, gently lowering the engine. Drips of sweat stung his eyes, and he wiped them free with his jacket sleeve.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “Don’t look, but someone’s following us,” Jayf said, skimming the street casually.

  Olenar glanced back—just in time to catch a diminutive Leshar woman in all black darting into a side alley.

  “I said don’t look! Great. Now she knows we know she’s following us.”

  “Come on, man, it's just a Lesh. She looked smaller than you. They’d struggle to rob a puppy—ow!”

  Jayf pinched him. “Skull for brains, you ain’t gotta be big to be dangerous. Couldn’t she be reporting back to someone with muscle? Or did that idea miss your massively oversized head?”

  Olenar sighed. “And rob the poorest pair in all of Calaria? Great plan.”

  “Let’s just hurry and get there.” Jayf glanced back, uncharacteristically worried. “I don’t like this.”

  Seeing the concern in Jayf’s eyes, Olenar hurriedly hauled up the engine. “Let’s go then.” Together, they started back down the walk with speed.

  Peeking back, Olenar caught their tail jogging after them, only a block or so behind. “This is bad. How much farther?”

  “Half a mile.”

  “Run?”

  “Agreed.”

  The two sprinted off, the woman yelling after them. Olenar couldn’t hear what she said between the wind and his blood pumping.

  Olenar groaned. His legs were cramping, and every stride sent the engine digging into his back. Finally, they rounded a corner and pushed against a big red door.

  “This is it?” Olenar was utterly spent and sucked air hungrily. He nearly dropped the engine, holding out his fist to knock. “Hurry, check it.”

  “Yup, big red door, Shandi, W12-B160.”

  Olenar rapped twice. The door swung inward into a smoky room. A man came out to meet them, ducking to clear the door’s head.

  Olenar wasn’t short—he was taller and broader than the average Mestarian, strong from years of working metals. The hulking Mestarian man before him put Olenar to shame. He was a mountain that rivaled those outside the city. His face looked carved from granite but in an ugly way. When the man spoke, his voice was like two giant boulders mating.

  “You’re the two U?ilan’s expecting?”

  “I—yes, we are. Can we come in?” Olenar said breathlessly.

  “Follow.”

  The mountain turned back and started up some stairs. Olenar lugged up the engine and followed the man, with Jayf close behind.

  “We should leave,” Jayf whispered as they cleared the first story, the smoke growing thicker with each step. His friend’s eyes were wider than usual. “This doesn’t feel right.”

  “This is our last chance.” Olenar placed a hand on Jayf’s shoulder. “I need you.”

  Jayf swallowed, eyes skimming the exit.

  The mountain turned to them as they lagged.

  “Hurry up. If you want to stare, you pay.”

  Olenar hadn’t noticed the half-clad Leshar women until the mountain pointed them out. Five of them draped over a pair of Mestarian men like they were accessories. It was a brothel. They were pitching humanity's future in a brothel.

  Jayf stepped in front, smiling. “Would it be alright if—”

  “Do not presume,” the mountain cut Jayf off. “Only the True Blood may speak.”

  Olenar shoved his rage deep. Treating his friend like that was unforgivable, but he had no illusions about what would happen if he angered this beast. There wasn’t anything he could do. They’d present, get rejected, and then move on.

  “Come on,” Olenar said, trying to look unbothered. “It’ll be okay.”

  Grumbling to himself, Jayf followed.

  Another flight of stairs, more half-naked Lesh women, and smoke later, they arrived. The mountain swung open a door and gestured them in. They walked into an opulent chamber decorated with paintings, furs, and velvet carpets. A fireplace in the corner kept the space cozily warm.

  “Welcome!” said a man dressed in clashing colors. That mustard overcoat and teal shirt made Olenar’s eyes want to vomit. He would never understand fashion.

  “U?ilan Gotten, I presume?” Olenar said. “Where can I put this?”

  “Right here,” U?ilan said, clearing a space at his desk. Olenar obeyed and gently set down the engine. U?ilan reached out his hand, and Olenar took it, shaking. U?ilan smiled at Jayf but didn’t offer his hand. He sat behind the desk and clasped his hands.

  “I have been looking forward to your presentation. Please, sit—both of you.”

  U?ilan had a Zeerashee accent that was thick but understandable, clipping constants in strange places or adding them in others.

  Olenar sat before pulling off his bag and setting it to the side. As Jayf sat, his head barely cleared the table’s lip. The Leshar were, apparently, not a design consideration.

  “Jayf, the vial?”

  “Sure,” he said, pulling it out from his pack and handing it to Olenar.

  Their years of friendship told Olenar Jayf was upset, but luckily, Jayf hid it behind his fake smile—the one without any teeth. With a deep breath, Olenar pushed forward.

  “I know it doesn’t look like much, but this is Moment.” Olenar held up the vial. “We all know what it is because it’s everywhere. In the trees, the soil, the very air—.”

  U?ilan lifted his hand. “Let us, how do you say here? Cut the shit? Show me, do not tell. Then, we will talk.”

  Loud moans and some banging carried through from the adjacent room.

  “I think we can do that. Jayf?”

  Jayf nodded and downed the vial. Olenar stood and filled a chamber with water, handing a thick leather glove to Jayf. Jayf placed his palm onto the pressure chamber, and the engine whistled. The power shaft spun faster and faster, too fast. Why was Jayf pushing it so fast?

  “Enough,” U?ilan said.

  The whirring slowed when Jayf lifted his hand from the machine and stopped moments later. The room was silent, save the moans from next door.

  “I’m impressed. The concept is promising. But there is a hell in the details, no? What is the approximate energy density?” U?ilan picked up a pitcher and poured a glass of crimson.

  “Conservatively,” Olenar cleared his throat. “One hundred and twenty-five halorics per vial. Enough to run this engine for two hours—more if I can increase the efficiency.”

  U?ilan coughed as he choked on his sip. “Incredible—too good to be true. What is the catch?”

  Olenar needed to think of something besides the truth and fast. The truth didn’t seem healthy with their current company.

  “This talent is rare—about a hundred to one and more commonly found in brightward populations. At least, that’s what my limited study found, although the sample size could be better.”

  U?ilan rubbed his eyes, looking annoyed. “That’s not a problem. Fate always sets apart a lucky few in any revolution. Why did you come to me, specifically?”

  Olenar shifted in his seat and swallowed. “I don’t know what you—”

  “Do not lie to me, boy,” U?ilan said icily, throwing his glass against the wall to shatter. “Did you think I wouldn’t know about the others? Lie to me again, and you’ll find I am not as accommodating.”

  “He’s not lying,” Jayf interjected, voice dripping defiance. “So let’s just get to the good part, shall we?”

  Olenar shook his head at Jayf as subtly as possible, but it was useless. Jayf was locked in as U?ilan gestured to continue.

  “For every Mestarian gifted with Moment sensitivity, there are ten Leshar.”

  The room was genuinely silent then. U?ilan’s fingers tensed on the cigar. His gaze flicked—too quickly—toward the brute at the door. His smile remained, but something sinister seemed to settle behind those eyes. U?ilan skimmed from Jayf to Olenar. “This is true?”

  If they got out alive, Olenar would slap the mustache off Jayf. How did he salvage this?

  “Yes, it is, and I don’t see how that’s an issue. We’ll blow forward on fair winds or stagnate behind the rest of the world. Moment is revolutionary for everyone. High tide lifts all boats.”

  U?ilan stood abruptly, waving to the mountain at the door. Olenar heard the door click shut before the brute's footsteps thumped behind them. U?ilan walked to a cabinet and pulled a cigar before lighting it in the fireplace.

  “What do you think about stories?” he puffed out a ring of smoke.

  Olenar blinked. “What about them?”

  “Highs and lows, ebb and flow, Mestarian and Leshar. Everything is a story we tell to make sense of this world. What story does Moment tell?”

  This presentation was heading into a crime scene at a record pace. Olenar had to figure out how to get them out of there alive. He casually looked around for a way to escape, as if he was thinking, but the only door was behind him, and they’d latched and shuttered the two windows.

  “Human resilience?” Olenar said, stalling.

  U?ilan walked back to the desk. “Revolution. The spindle of fate goes round and round. This—” he tapped the engine with his cigar— “is an insult to that fate. To legacy. To our truth. It would upend everything. There’s no telling where the Mestarian race ends up after a shake-up like that.”

  Olenar’s foot tapped away on its own.

  U?ilan continued. “Granted, I would make an absurd amount of stones in the short. But some things are worth sacrificing.” U?ilan hit the cigar again. “It’s a shame, but nothing personal. You understand, don’t you?”

  Olenar did all too well. He saw that glance U?ilan gave the brute behind him. They were going to kill them. Speaking in a rush, Olenar bought time while looking for an escape. "You don’t have to do this," Olenar said, his voice tight. "This—this changes the world. It changes everything."

  U?ilan exhaled a bored puff of smoke. "Precisely my point."

  Olenar found it.

  He surged forward, startling U?ilan, but his focus remained on the engine. The metal’s searing heat scorched his hands as he scooped up the contraption, but he ignored that pain. Grunting with effort, Olenar swung the engine wide and hurled it out the window with a crash.

  Then the mountain was on him, their hands wrapping around Olenar’s throat with a vicious squeeze that defied reason.

  Olenar wasn’t a fighter. He was a merchant’s son. All he could do was kick and scratch as the bastard squeezed the life out of him—the brute even smiled while doing it.

  His vision tightened into a tunnel. A brilliant yellow brightened his assaulter’s face, highlighting his gritted grin. Olenar blinked, confused. What was that heat? He had an answer soon enough as licking flames shot up the brute’s shoulder. The man screamed, startled, releasing Olenar to slump onto the plush carpet in a heap.

  Olenar gasped for breath, hacking and coughing.

  “What the fuck just happened.”

  Jayf fell beside him while U?ilan chased the mountain with a blanket, patting away the flames.

  “I lit him on fire.”

  “Oh,” was all Olenar could manage.

  Despite his size, Jayf tried to help Olenar to his feet. It wasn’t helpful, but Olenar appreciated the gesture. A loud thunk shook the floorboards as the giant slammed into the carpet, screaming and rolling in pain. The flames finally went out, leaving the man weeping and charred.

  U?ilan took in the mountain with wide, tear-filled eyes. “Tand’i!” he screamed before locking on Jayf. There, sadness twisted into an unfettered rage. “KILL THEM! KILL THEM NOW!”

  Olenar could hear elevating footsteps from downstairs. Somehow, he suspected those weren’t the city guard there to save them.

  “Remember what you asked earlier about tossing?” Olenar said while working himself to his feet.

  “No, I—wait, no. Not that, are you crazy?”

  “That depends on how far I can toss you,” Olenar said, scooping up his small friend, running, and jumping out the window. They soared for a beautiful second in the air as Olenar oriented his back to land on the pavement. They landed hard with a squish, knocking the wind from his sails.

  “You bleeding bastard!” Jayf laughed, pushing off Olenar, scooping up a handful of muck and kissing it. “Brilliant plan, that.”

  “That’s disgusting,” Olenar croaked out. He flipped face-first into the mud to push to his feet. He’d forgotten about the mud. It was so thick at the center of the street that, miraculously, he was largely intact.

  The engine lay next to them, nearly submerged. It was ruined. Olenar reached for it before Jayf’s hand stopped him.

  “Leave it, we’ve got to hide.”

  Yells from above stressed that point.

  “You two idiots!” a woman’s voice called from a side alley. It was the Lesh woman cloaked in black, their tail from earlier. “Follow me! I’ll get you out of here!”

  Olenar looked at Jayf, who shrugged.

  “Can’t be worse than those blokes.”

  Tailed by shouts, they scrambled out of the muck and followed.