Chapter 6 Untitled ChapterThe Contract

The evening had settled over Hollow Crest by the time they made it back to the residence, the cold seeping through the walls and settling into the floorboards.

Garrick appeared with food without being asked, bread and stew and something hot that smelled like tea, and Marcus wrapped his hands around the cup and felt something close to human for the first time since waking up in this body.

The warmth spread through his fingers and up his arms, and he realized he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this simple comfort.

Lyra ate properly this time, not like someone who hadn't eaten in days. She looked different from the cell, still exhausted and still wary, but present in a way she hadn't been before.

She took her time with the food, chewing slowly, and Marcus noticed she kept her eyes on the table rather than watching the room like she had before.

Garrick refilled his cup and leaned back in his chair. "So what do we do now?"

"We figure out what's under that mountain," Marcus said.

"And how do we do that?"

"We go back down. Properly this time. With equipment and measurements and a plan."

Lyra set down her spoon. "That's going to take more than just the three of us."

"I know." Marcus looked at her. "That's why I need to ask you something."

She waited.

"How did you learn what you know?"

She seemed surprised by the question.

"My father trained me. He was the head mechanic at Furnace One. Started teaching me when I was old enough to hold a wrench. He'd bring me down to the furnaces after my chores were done and show me how the valves worked. By the time I was twelve, I could rebuild a pressure regulator in my sleep."

"And after he died?"

"I took over his apprentices. Kept the equipment running. Trained two more junior mechanics."

She shrugged. "The formal training programs only accepted men. I wasn't about to wait for that to change."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-two."

Marcus nodded and said nothing. She had achieved more by twenty-two than most people he knew back home had achieved by forty. He didn't say that. He just let it sit.

"Why does that matter?" she asked.

"It doesn't. I'm just trying to understand who I'm working with."

She paused. "Working with."

"Yes."

She looked at him for a moment, something shifting in her expression. Then she picked up her tea and said nothing.

Marcus set down his cup.

"I need someone who understands the furnaces and the tunnels. I can't do this alone. I understand systems and engineering, but I don't know this mountain or these machines. You do."

He laid it out plainly.

Official employment as town infrastructure consultant. Full access to all maintenance records.

A wage that was significantly better than what she'd been making as a mechanic.

And the room two doors down, because the alternative was sending her back to a boarding house where the council's friends could watch her movements.

Lyra stared at him for a long moment. "You know this makes you look like you're protecting me."

"I am protecting you. I'm just also doing it for practical reasons."

"The council will say worse things than that."

"The council is already planning to let this town die for profit. I'm not particularly worried about what they say."

Garrick refilled his tea very carefully, pretending not to listen.

"What if I find something down there that can't be explained?" Lyra asked. "Something that doesn't follow any rules you understand?"

Marcus looked at her. "Then we figure out the new rules."

She held his gaze for a moment. "That's not how most people react to things they don't understand."

"Most people aren't engineers."

She almost smiled at that. Not quite, but almost. Then she nodded.

The moment she agreed, Garrick produced a piece of paper from somewhere inside his coat like he'd been waiting for this exact moment.

He placed it on the desk between them.

"Three more workers from the lower district have given notice," he said. "Leaving before winter gets worse. That drops us to two hundred and thirty-four."

Marcus looked at the number. Fifty-four people away from the threshold.

"There's something else," Garrick said. "Two days ago, a representative from Blackwater Ridge arrived in town.

Officially just a trade visit. He's staying at the inn on the east road." He paused. "He hasn't requested a meeting with you."

"He's counting," Marcus said.

"That's what I think."

Lyra looked at the number. "Last winter we lost forty people. If this winter is worse—"

"It won't get that far," Marcus said.

He said it flatly, like a fact. Neither of them argued.

After Garrick left, only Marcus and Lyra remained in the office. The map on the wall. The metal sample on the desk.

The note beside it. Lyra picked up the fragment and turned it over in her hands.

"My father used to say the mountain was alive," she said. "Not literally. He meant it the way miners talk. The mountain breathes, the mountain settles, the mountain has moods. You learn to read it or it kills you." She set the fragment down. "I thought he was being poetic."

"And now?"

"Now I think he was being accurate."

Marcus nodded slowly. "The people who get called poetic are usually just the ones who noticed something everyone else was too busy to look at."

She looked at him for a moment, then set the fragment down.

Marcus stood at the window looking out at Hollow Crest. Smoke rose from the functioning furnaces. The streets were dark.

The mountain was invisible in the night, but he could feel its presence somehow, like something large and patient waiting just beyond the darkness.

Lyra's voice came from behind him. "The pulse in the tunnel. It gets stronger at night. I've tracked it. Every night, around the same time, it intensifies for about an hour. Then it goes quiet again."

Marcus turned around. The cold from the window had settled into his shoulders, but he barely noticed it.

"Tonight is the night it peaks," she said. "If you wanted to go back down and measure it properly..."

He was already reaching for his coat.