There's a feeling, long repressed, deep in the cavernous pit of my gut, that something isn't right. I can feel it. It feels like tonight, everything's about to change. I can't explain it, but it's there. I can't bring myself to dance. No matter how hard Dove and Quail try to pull me into their arms, to drag me down to the beat of the music; all I can do is smile. And try.

Smile and try. It's all I ever do.

All I want is to climb onto Henry's back and fly through the night's sky home.

But I can't even be sure where that is anymore.

The boy in the mohair coat. . . he's one of me. I shiver even though it's warm, swathed in a haze of sweat, lust, and hormones. I've never met anyone like me before.

Can he do what I can do?

But he's with her, isn't he. Cadence. The sudden heat in my cheeks, the sweat, the twisting of nausea in my stomach, everything intensifies – with a well-practised smile, I ease myself free of Quail's arms and head up the rickety steps to the balcony. So I can breathe the midnight air.

Its silence. Its stillness. A soothing embrace.

Then, Henry appears from over the railing like he's been waiting for me. His lights flash in greeting, and I perch beside him, staring up at the moon.

'Do you think it's true?'

Henry quivers at my touch. As I stroke him, he inches as close to me as he possibly can.

'That boy thinks I'm a bad person. But Titus warned me, about the Futurists and the Resisters. He said my kind are criminals. He wouldn't lie to me. Would he?

'Am I a bad person?'

Henry doesn't answer – just cocks his body to the side and emits a comforting string of beeps.

'I know, I know. . . Of course, I don't trust Cadence. I'm not stupid.' I place my chin in my hands. 'I just. . . don't understand.'

'Rai? Where are you?'

From downstairs, Dove is calling my name; hastily wiping my eyes, I rest my forehead on Henry, letting his cool, sleek body send a rush of calm through my body.

'Coming, Dove. One second.'

And then I leave him on the balcony, alone in the wind, and although my body is down in the mess of limbs and smoke, my mind is upstairs with him in the stars.

*

We sneak in late through our bedroom windows, praying we won't get caught. But of course, we do. Titus is furious. And by morning, his anger seems to have evolved into a testier beast, almost nervous. It's not long before he slaps Buffalo for simply speaking out of turn, and kicks poor old Auden down the stairs for adding milk to his tea.

Nevertheless, he insists on walking me to the station for my next client – I'm due to be travelling into the depths of the Slavskani Wastelands. His mood is only getting worse.

'I doubt you got any practise in last night, did you. The state of you.' He spits on the ground, leaving a shiny puddle by my feet – people are starting to stare. Henry zooms above me, his lights flashing in annoyance; my cheeks glow with embarrassment. I've let Titus down.

'I'm really sorry. All the Cadence stuff just got to me, you know? I'm not sleeping –,'

'Don't lie to me.' He grabs the scruff of my t-shirt, yanking my face to his mouth. 'I know about the parties, the disgusting things you get up to. I'm your Master. Even when I'm not there, I'm still your Master. I always know.'

Tears prick in my eyes, unbidden, and I cough, shaking my head furiously to get rid of the feeling.

'But, Titus –,'

'You disgust me. Still. What do I expect, from the likes of you –'

'That's not fair.' The cold, emptiness inside is starting to hurt. But endorphins are spreading fast, trying their best to numb the pain. . .

'No? Well get this, Rai: life's not fair. Remember, I gave you a home when no one else would. I kept you safe when everybody else abandoned you. I made you what you are, and don't you ever forget it.'

Through my tears, I see the old man's expression from the night before. His pity. And Cadence speaks loud in my ear: 'You're living in a dreamland.'

But then – Titus pulls me close. His lips brush my forehead, and he kisses me, soft, the warm comfort of home, and the sting of his words vanishes in an instant. We stand, locked in our embrace, for a long time outside the wormhole. But too soon, he lets me go.

'I'd come in with you, but I've got a meeting I can't get out of.'

His sharp, slender face looks even paler in the glow of the electric lights, and I notice for the first time the dark circles shadowing his eyes. He hands me something in a small, fabric bag, and I turn it over, glancing up at Titus with questioning eyes.

'Make sure you get the payment –,'

'First,' we chime together, and both let out a weak chuckle.

Titus sighs. 'Look, Rai. . . I didn't mean. . . I didn't –,'

'It's okay,' I smile, shoving my hands into my pockets. 'You don't have to say anything.'

He nods in approval. 'That's my boy. Off you go then, we don't want to keep the clients waiting.'

'Will you dock Henry for me?'

Titus frowns, his eyes following Henry as he flits around my head. He plucks him from the air and pushes him gently into my arms.

'Keep him with you, just this once. I have a feeling you might need him.'

Relief spreads through me as I hug Henry close; I hate being parted from him. And so, I turn my back on my Master, my mentor, who's guided and looked after me my whole life. With the mysterious bag clutched in my fist and Henry in my arms, I disappear into the Wormhole.

And Titus is gone.

*

I step out onto a barren, snow-covered wasteland. It's so cold, each breath crystalises in the thick smog of grey air; I blow on my hands, wishing I'd brought gloves.

My clients are nowhere to be seen; mind, I can't see jack through the fog.

'Scout around, Henry. See if you can find anyone.'

Rear-lights flashing in acknowledgement, Henry springs from my arms and plunges into the fog; vanishing instantly. I'm left alone in the tundra, listening to the rushing winds howl as they sweep across the dusting of snow on the ground.

Pulling my sleeves over my fingers, I shove Titus's bag in my pocket and start to search; soon enough, there's a lake. The light hits the surface, scattering into prisms of every colour, and I realise it's completely frozen. I give it one gentle tap with my toe; a crack slithers across the ice and I withdraw, sharpish.

'Damn.'

Shivering, I crouch by the edge. It's mesmerising; I've never seen anything like it. The ice is a jagged mosaic, it's diamond shards tinged a deep violet; but as I peer more closely, there's a turquoise colour straining through from beneath. It's hypnotising; that is, until I hear a noise.

Crunch.

I swivel round.

Five people shuffle into place behind me. They're obviously Skavs, natives from Northern Slavskanistan – their movements slow, weighed down by hulking wolf-skins slung over their bodies, their boots leaving heavy footprints in the snow all the way back to the wormhole. Their faces are obscured by fur-lined balaclavas, barely an inch of skin showing; but I'm not looking at their faces. I'm too distracted by their hands.

Each leather glove clutches a six-inch-long shard of ice.

I swallow, rising to my feet. And take a careful step backwards onto the lake.

'Uh. . . Are you, um. . .'

Dez White and company, my headphones sings, clipped as always onto my tragus.

'Dez White, er, and company?'

'That's right.' One of the Skavs steps forwards, snow crunching softly underfoot. 'You must be the kid we hired.'

'H-how can I help?'

They advance towards me, inching me bit by bit backwards onto the ice. There's a faint shudder – a crack – and I freeze. My breath catches as I glance up, eyes wide, at the five shards now raised in my direction.

'Well, for a start.' The man's voice is barely audible over the wind. 'You can come closer. We don't bite.'

I drag my eyes from the shards up to his face, and instantly wish I hadn't – his teeth glitter the same purplish colour as the ice as he grins.

'Yeah, we don't bite.'

I swing around. To my horror, three more people have emerged from the mist behind me across the ice.

I'm surrounded.

'W-what do you want? T-Titus sent me to help –,'

'Aw, bless.' A woman's voice floats towards me from behind – everybody takes a step closer. I don't have a hope in hell of escaping. 'Have we scared you, little boy?'

Come back, Henry, I plead. I need you, boy. Come back. Then I remember Titus's last words to me: 'I have a feeling you might need him.'

Did he. . .

Did he know this was going to happen? My numb, blue fingertips are nothing compared with the chill in my heart. I've been in sticky situations before but. . . I glance back at those shards and close my eyes. Don't look, I tell myself. Don't think about Titus. And don't look.

'We need you to do something for us, something big.' One of the Skavs is so close, I can feel the waft of his putrid breath on my face. 'Look down.'

Suddenly his hand is in my hair – my neck jerks forwards as he forces my head down. My eyes snap open – my nose inches from the surface of the ice.

'See that?'

Say nothing, feel nothing. I try to shake my head but can't, the man is holding me too tight, there's nothing I can do. . .

'ANSWER me.'

'S-see w-what?'

'You see how the surface is purple, but the underneath is blue? We think that maybe only the top layer of water is contaminated. If the lake froze over before rain became toxic, only the top layer will be poisonous. If we could get to the layer underneath, we could sustain our whole village for months, years even, without having to rely on scum like Jinaka.' The man spits Jinaka's name like the word itself is poison. 'We need you to break through the layer of crap to release the water beneath.'

Still forced into a crouch, I scan the lake through the corner of my eyes. It must be hundreds of miles long, and tens of miles wide. Even if I could affect this much water, I've never melted anything before. I don't even know if I can.

A sharp scratch, and the blade digs into the back of my neck – my legs buckle and I crash to my knees.

'Please. I-I don't know how to do that.'

All I can see are legs and fur-linings of draping coats. The pain intensifies as blood, warm and wet, trickles down my neck.

'P-please,' I croak. 'Just let me up. I can at least try.'

'Try now,' a voice hisses in my ear. 'And I sure hope you can do it, because we've already paid. One way or another, we'll get our money's worth outta you.'

My vision blurs as on reflex, a protective sheath of water spreads out to coat my hands.

How do I break this? This isn't what I do. Can I melt it? But how?

Then I realise – oh god. Without removing the water protecting my hands, I can't do anything anyway. As my tears sizzle on the surface of the ice, I reabsorb the water into my skin, and place my palms onto the lattice below.

ARGH.

The cold hits in a wave of agony – this isn't normal, it's like frozen acid. Blisters blossom across the soft skin of my hands, hot, angry, sizzling –

Break. BREAK.

Nothing happens. And even if it had, I suddenly realise – what would I even do with all the toxic water?

'Hey!'

A voice bursts through the fog.

It's heavy with command, and the hands pinning me down whip back instantly. I drop, my legs flailing desperately to keep grip to run – but hands are quicker, hoisting me back, a blade drawn to my neck once more.

'Who's there?' the man growls.

'Drop the boy and put your hands in the air.'

From the fog, a woman in a bright blue uniform emerges. A commanding officer's badge shines proud on her lapel, her hands clutching a rifle. A team of officers appear behind her, and the Skavs huddle closer together, trapping me in the centre. They exchange furious, incredulous glances, and honestly, I'm just as confused. In all the years I've worked the black market, I've never had the authorities turn up. Ever. And I've been in worse situations.

'Get out of here, Futurists. You've no business here.' The man in front of me shields me with his body, his shard held aloft. For all the good it will do.

'I repeat,' says the Futurist officer. 'Put your hands in the air. You are under arrest for collusion in trafficking and child abuse.'

'Child abuse?!' the man splutters. 'Get outta here, I never seen this kid before in my life.'

'Drop your weapons and put your hands in the air.'

'What are you gonna do, shoot us all?'

'DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE –,'

'NOW.'

Another crowd of Skavs dive onto the officers from behind; I'm thrown to the ground as gunshots fire over my head. Someone is dragging me across the ice, but it's a chaos of bullets, snow and legs trampling all around us.

'Henry?'

I thrust my elbow sharply into the man's face as I scream Henry's name; with a yelp, the man relaxes his grip for a second.

That's all I need.

Water bursts from my hands, blasting him backwards – I hurtle across the ice as one of the Skavs crashes down beside me. The surface splinters, and the man drops; I run, sweeping aside the sulphurous wave with a flick of my wrist, wincing as a shower of icicles slice my cheek.

'Get the boy, get the boy!'

My stomach lurches – the officers have rounded up most of the Skavs - but are now storming across the ice towards me.

'Where is he?' one of the officers shouts.

'He must have run into the fog; whatever you do, don't let him escape. He's the one we had the tip-off about.'

'You think he really is –?'

Bloody hell. They're not after the Skavs, they're just a handy bonus. They're after me.

But they can't see me; I must have run straight into the fog. Except - now I'm blind too.

The bag.

My scorched fingers fumble in my pocket as I suddenly remember: the bag. The one Titus gave me.

Cadence. This has to be because of her. Titus knew – he wanted me away from the others to protect them. That's why he let me take Henry; to protect me too. That must be why he gave me this.

The weight of pounding feet is fast turning the ice to slush – I'm wasting time – a small black coin, or button, or whatever-the-hell-it-is, falls into my palm. I've never seen anything like it before; with a pang of horror, I realise Titus hasn't given me anything to help.

He's abandoned me, high and dry.

I press it over and over again, desperate for it to do something – please, please DO SOMETHING – but all it does is turn blue; I fling it to the ground in a howl of despair and pound away across the ice as the officers blossom into view.

'HENRY?'

My legs hammer beneath me, propelling me slipping and sliding forwards; the ice shatters beneath my feet, plunging me ankle-deep into the poison. With a cry, I turn back to the officers.

Guns raised, wading through plumes of mist, water and fog – they're gaining on me.

'Stop!' The commanding officer shouts. 'Elementalist, you are under arrest. Stop, or you'll make the situation worse for yourself.'

Then – everything seems to happen at once.

First, bright lights burst through the fog above me, and I cry out in relief as Henry soars through the air towards me. He ducks; I grab hold of his lower handles and swing myself out of the water onto his back. We sail over the officers, swerving as they shoot wildly up at us through the fog.

At the same time, a voice pierces through the mist. 'Oh, come now; how can the poor boy's situation possibly get any worse?'

The commanding officer swivels round. 'What the –,'

Four figures emerge from the mist. I almost fall off Henry in shock.

It's the strange old man, Edward or Eldred or whatever, tipping his hat in politeness, with Cadence, mohair-boy and a girl by his side.

'Puffin, Sammi, as we discussed.'

With a scream, the girl spreads her arms wide - all of a sudden, the mist starts to move. Howling winds start to twist around her, writhing as though in terrible pain; it's all I can do to cling on to Henry as they hurtle towards the officers in a whirl of fury.

'Kassius, now!'

Mohair-boy dives to the ground as the officers turn their guns towards him, and he does what I could not. An almighty gash slices through the centre of the lake, and the remaining ice shatters, plunging the officers into its depths in a riot of shrieks and splashes.

But more officers are pouring out of the Wormhole; someone must have called for backup. Cadence is spinning, a gun in each hand, firing in a circle around the boy and girl with cackles of delight.

With a deep breath, I clench my knees tighter around Henry to keep balance. 'Lower,' I yell, and Henry swoops into the thick of the swirling winds, and I force my hands through to hover over the water.

From inside me, a fierce yearning rises; I shake my head to clear my mind, letting peace take over. And whisper into the depths –

'Dance with me.'

Great cascading waves of turquoise rise to greet me, finally free; I fly high into the air, the waves twirling upwards with me in an effortless spiral, obeying my every command.

'Ha!'

With a cry, I fling my arms outwards and the wave crash down in an spectacular pirouette; officers scream, lifted clean off their feet and under, under. . .

'To Cadence, Henry,' I pant, exhaustion washing over me; we soar towards the ground and I tumble off his back at Cadence's feet. The girl of wind runs towards me, her hands still raised.

'Get behind me!' she cries, as she sends another swirl of mist careering towards the officers who are trying to crawl out of the water, forcing them back into the deep.

'It's okay,' I gasp, staggering to my feet, Henry propping me up beside her. This is what I was born to do.

Once again, I lift my hands and waves flow from the lake towards me, like I'm their magnet. With a twirl of my finger, I encase us in a rushing, violently-purple bubble.

'Quick,' Cadence grabs my arm, my bubble rendering her gunshots useless. 'We have to retreat – there's more backup on the way.'

'Where?' I say, my knees wavering as exhaustion crashes like an avalanche on top of me.

'Just trust me,' Eldred roars, pulling the mohair-boy to his feet, dragging him along beside him. 'Get to the Wormhole, quick!'

'But it will just take us back to Singavere!'

'Just do it!' The girl starts sprinting back to the Wormhole, one arm aloft behind her to try and maintain the twisting winds. 'Come on!'

I fling the bubble away, and it bursts over the officers; I leap back on top of Henry and zoom over the girl. The officers are starting to crawl from the lake, shooting once more; a bullet ricochetes off a boulder beside me, blasting it to pieces – Henry swerves – but luckily for me, I'm one of the best drone-riders in the city.

There it is - the Wormhole. We dive towards it, and Eldred slaps something down onto the control panel; the substance inside the Wormhole glows a twinkling, dark red.

'Get in, get in!' he shouts, pushing mohair-boy through head-first. 'Quick!'

Cadence grabs the girl and thrusts her inside, and before I know it, Henry and I are flying through after them.

Swallowed up by the darkness.

*

We burst from the Wormhole and tumble to the ground; it's warm, and dark, and very much not Singavere. I stagger off Henry and clutch him close to my chest, shivering this time not from cold, but from shock.

'What the – how did – where are –,'

'Don't worry.' Eldred is fiddling with the control panel – the Wormhole suddenly glows deep ruby again, before turning back to its natural inky-black. 'Phew.'

He wipes his forehead on his sleeve, before turning towards me. 'That was close. It's alright, they won't be able to follow us, it's returned to its Singavere destination now. They haven't got a hope in hell of finding us; as far as they're concerned, we've completely disappeared.'

A hundred questions flood my mind, but I barely have the energy to keep my eyes open. I sink to my knees, and Eldred's beside me in seconds, lowering me to the ground.

'That was some intense power I saw from you back there. Brie was right – you're incredible.'

A vague noise rumbles from the back of my throat, but that's all I can muster before I realise my headphones are ringing. A phone call.

'You should get that,' Eldred says with a wry smile.

I'm not sure how much more I can handle, but nevertheless, I raise a trembling hand to my ear. 'Yeah?'

'RAI?' A voice, familiar and comforting as warm cocoa in winter. I let out a cry of relief, just to hear her voice.

'Dove? Thank god, you – you won't believe what's happened –,'

'Shut up, shut up. Listen, I've only got a few minutes – we've been ratted out, Rai, the authorities are all over us, we're all hauled up in the house and they are turning the place over looking for you.'

'Looking for me?'

'And Titus is gone!' Dove's voice breaks, and my heart bleeds to hear her weep. 'He's g-gone, with all his s-stuff, all the m-money in the safes, everything. The authorities are asking us all s-sorts of questions, none of us are allowed to leave –,'

'It's okay, Dove, just try and stay calm. I'll be home as soon as I can –,'

'You can't!' Her voice sharpens with sudden alarm. 'You mustn't come back here!'

'Why?'

'Don't you understand? They're after you. They won't stop asking us where you've gone, and about if we knew about. . . Well. . . They're saying all sorts of things. . .'

'I can't come home?' I hear my own voice as though from afar.

'Are you safe, Rai?'

'I – I guess –,'

'So, wherever you are, stay there.' I can barely make out what Dove's saying over her sobs. 'You mustn't come home – oh no, I've got to go, I've got to –,'

The line goes dead.

Leaving the empty, hollow ring of the dialling tone.

I turn to face the people who have probably saved my life. The boy in the mohair, face scrunched into a scowl; the girl of wind, ebony hair coiling with mist; Cadence, or Brie, or whoever she is, sneering as always; and Eldred, the man who just hacked the most complicated piece of technology on the planet.

But there's only one thing I can think of. One thing I can say.

'They're after me.' They're after me.

'I can't go home.'