8 years ago.

"Don't go far!" Jonah's mom called out.

She raised her eyebrows in warning—a gesture usually reserved for his sister Wren, who was always getting in trouble. Being eight years old, Wren was stuck at boarding school in Kinvarra, and was furious about missing out. Mom didn't need to worry about Jonah, but he nodded and waved anyhow.

He made his way through the crowded lounge, the wood panels echoing with the clink of glasses and laughter. The atmosphere was lively, but the Paragon soldiers standing by with their rifles reminded him that they were heading towards the most exclusive destination in Meraki's history: the Settlement beyond the fog.

The zeppelin's engines hummed, pushing them forward through the vast expanse of sky. The sense of excitement in the lounge was palpable as the travelers left behind their comfortable homes and set off towards the mysterious destination. Jonah had tossed and turned in bed the night before, unable to sleep as his mind raced with curiosity about what lay ahead.

He slipped past knees and poofy skirts and hard black heels. Being small had its advantages, and he soon reached the viewing windows at the front of the ship.

His breath caught in his throat as he took in the scene, his brown eyes wide and unblinking.

The warm morning light darkened as the zeppelin approached the tunnel in the fog, and the revelry in the cabin turned to hushed whispers. The zeppelin pushed forwards, not slowing, until the entire ship was shrouded in darkness. Jonah pressed closer to the glass and could see the grey fog twisting and churning, its wisps curling up to his fingertips like smoky tendrils before vanishing. He couldn't believe it—they were in the tunnel, in the fog.

Back home in Kinvarra, he could see the fog from his bedroom window. It surrounded the island of Meraki on all sides, an immovable barrier that separated them from the world beyond.

Until now, of course.

His heart thudded in his chest, and he took in a big gulp of air, trying to keep his breath steady the way mom had taught him. Many ships had already ventured through the fog before, he reminded himself—so many ships, in fact, that the Settlement waited on the other side. "A new home, a new future," the Paragon had announced.

The dark sky surrounding the zeppelin began to lighten. The wisps of fog slipped away, and rays of sunlight pierced through, momentarily blinding Jonah. He blinked in disbelief: they had emerged from the fog unscathed.

There were cheers from the other passengers, as relieved as he was to be out of the tunnel. Someone jostled against Jonah's back as everyone crowded around the windows, eager for their first glimpse at the new world. There was a chorus of awestruck gasps, their voices filled with amazement.

The sun danced on the crystal-clear water below, creating a dazzling display of light and colour. It was a breathtaking expanse stretching as far as the eye could see. The turquoise waves rolled gently beneath the ship, their movement hypnotic. Jonah squinted, scanning the horizon until he saw a sliver of beige in the distance.

The mainland.

He concentrated, determined to remember every detail so he could share them with Wren once he returned home. The Cutforth siblings had only ever known the lively and chaotic streets of Kinvarra, with its eager vendors, factories spewing smoke, and perpetual drizzle of rain.

A tight voice to Jonah's left said, "Why couldn't we take our own ship? This is so slow..."

Another voice, this one pleading: "There's nothing good to eat. Do you have any more snacks?"

Smack. "No, I don't have any more snacks, Herbert! You ate them all!" said a girl with a long pink nose.

"Ow!" the boy with the pleading voice winced, clutching his arm.

"Don't be a crybaby," the girl snapped, unsympathetic.

The one with the tight voice—a boy with a sharp face and arched eyebrows—sniffed. "Our family's ship is much faster than this," he said. "It has two propellers on each side, you know."

Jonah cocked his head. These three didn't seem particularly friendly, but maybe they would be his classmates on the Settlement. There weren't many kids there yet, he'd heard, and he didn't want to be alone. The thought of Wren finding out he had no friends was too embarrassing to bear.

Jonah cleared his throat. "The ship is slow because they build zeppelins for height, not for speed," he offered.

Three sets of eyes turned to stare at him. None of them said anything, not even Herbert, who the other two had been bullying mere moments ago. Jonah gulped and forced himself not to look away.

"They don't need as much fuel to stay in the air, so they're great for carrying supplies to the Settlement." He paused, then added: "And people, too."

The sharp-faced boy, clearly the leader of the group, narrowed his eyes at Jonah, his mouth contorting into an ugly sneer. "Yes, obviously people, too." He looked Jonah up and down and seemed to find him lacking.

Jonah shifted uncomfortably, suddenly very aware of his clothing. He was wearing a clean white shirt with the sleeves rolled up (so he wouldn't get the cuffs dirty) and his best linen pants with suspenders. The pants only had one patch, just above the right knee.

But even his best attire couldn't hold a candle to the other three. Their clothing was pristine: no patches, no linen, no juvenile suspenders—only silks, golden pocket watches, and lacy frills. It was painfully clear that they came from very different worlds.

Jonah's throat was very dry. "My parents, they're...they're engineers. With the Paragon." He wished he could think of something clever to say, but his mind was blank.

"Of course they're with the Paragon," the boy snapped. "Who else would they be with?" He gave a cruel, mocking laugh.

Together, the group moved away from him, disappearing into the crowd.

Jonah turned back and returned to the window, dropping his chin to his hands. If Wren was here, she would tousle his hair and say something to make him feel better. Something like, "You don't want foppish friends like that anyway, Jo." Or, if their parents weren't around: "Someone should tell them their shit still stinks."

But Wren wasn't here. She was thousands of miles away, and she wouldn't be here until the summer. "It's only for a week," Ma had tried reassuring her, little good it had done.

Jonah decided that when he described this trip to Wren, he would leave out the mean kids. In his version, he would say something witty and leave them gobsmacked. Or, even better—in his version, they would be nice, and he'd make three new friends.

The speck of land on the horizon became a mosaic of beige and brown. Rumour had it that the mainland didn't have a trace of green—not a single blade of grass. Just an endless expanse of sand. They were in desert territory, flat and vast. The stream of zeppelins, loaded with food and supplies from Meraki, were the Settlement's only lifeline.

There it was. In amidst the rolling dunes was the Settlement. It hugged the coastline: an oasis in an otherwise uninhabitable place.

As the zeppelin came in for a landing, Jonah could make out the individual structures of the town. A metallic water tower, glinting in the harsh sunlight. There were shops, postage hubs, printing presses, tailors, clusters of homes...maybe the buildings had worn different colours before, but now they were all the same dusty brown.

In the town's heart was the Paragon outpost: shiny, fortified, elaborate. It reminded Jonah of a spider, with a bulbous central structure and the labyrinth of thin tunnels stretching outwards. The outpost was tiny compared to the Paragon headquarters back home in Kinvarra—but it still dwarfed the rest of the Settlement.

As the zeppelin neared the docks, Jonah could see the labourer ground crews far below. They worked as one to prepare for the zeppelin's landing as the pilot did her best to battle the strong wind and keep control of the zeppelin as it approached the dock. The handlers on the ship shouted to the workers below and threw down thick ropes. The labourers below heaved the coils up onto their shoulders and wound elaborate knots around the moorings, securing the zeppelin. At last, they were secure and ready to release the passengers.

Despite his frustrating encounter with the other kids, Jonah smiled. It was just like the Paragon pamphlets said: this was their new home. Their new future. And he couldn't wait to be part of it.

#

Shuffling along with the other passengers, Jonah, now reunited with his parents, made his way out of the lounge and onto the gangway, which wobbled and shook under the many feet.

They emerged on a long wooden pier. The waves crashed against the posts below, spattering their shoes. The coast was lined with sea-faring ships, their big white sails billowing in the wind.

Jonah took a deep breath—the air had an unfamiliar smell. It wasn't like Kinvarra, where the air carried smoke and engine exhaust, a variety of conflicting food aromas, and a distant whiff of gunpowder. The air here was fresh, and clean—not yet spoiled by civilization. He licked his lips and could taste the sea salt!

All around, the raucous sounds of progress filled the air: uniformed soldiers barking orders, workers pounding hammers, and a loudspeaker announcing, "More civilian ships have arrived safely on the Settlement! President Glass has a few words for this momentous occasion..."

The familiar, confident voice of the president took over: "We congratulate our fellow Merakians as they arrive on the Settlement and wish them all the best in their new lives! This, fellow citizens, is the ultimate show of progress..."

"Look over there, on that ship! It's the mage!"

"It's Abraham! And there's his shade, just beside him."

"The Paragon always has a mage stationed on the Settlement. It's regulation..."

There was a clamour of voices as the newly arrived passengers caught sight of the mage. He was a rare sight indeed, as there were only seven mages in all of Meraki.

Jonah tried to follow the crowd's gaze as he walked, shielding his eyes from the harsh sunlight. There were no clouds in the sky to temper its intensity, making it hard to see.

On the tall ship, a barrel man clung to the rigging, looking disgruntled. The mage had taken the man's place in the crow's nest high above, his black cloak billowing in the wind. He waved down at the group, a broad grin on his handsome face. A nearby woman made a strange noise and fanned herself aggressively.

Jonah was amazed. Abraham was the first and only mage he'd encountered in real life—Wren would seethe with envy when she found out! Dad said that mages were the most powerful beings in Meraki, no matter how much money the Paragon poured into their weapons arsenal.

Jonah angled himself around people, craning his neck for a better look. Abraham's shade hovered in midair, just beyond the crow's nest—a dark, shapeless mass. It didn't eat, or drink, or sleep...it didn't even breathe. It wasn't alive, really, in any sense of the word.

It was the most bizarre and magnificent thing Jonah had ever seen.

He had to get a closer look. But when he went to take a step forward, his foot met dead air and he fell forward towards the water, stomach lurching...

"Watch out, boy!" someone shouted.

Jonah had only enough time to let out a gasp and throw his hands up as he plummeted. He squeezed his eyes shut and braced for the impact...

But it never came.

He cracked an eye open. He was hanging in the air, suspended...weightless.

Jonah watched, wide eyed, as he drifted up and away from the waves, back up onto the dock to land on his feet, light as a feather. A flurry of hands grabbed him, feeling for broken bones, sprains, anything out of sorts.

"Jonah, are you all right?" Dad asked, panicked.

"Are you hurt?" Mom demanded.

Jonah shook his head, silent. He tried to speak but couldn't find the words.

"Oh, bloody—Mae, he isn't responding! He isn't responding, for goodness' sake!"

"Jonah! Answer us!" Mom grabbed his shoulders and shook: a mistake. Jonah turned green. It was too much—

He threw up. Enthusiastically.

The crowd pressing in on him withdrew, finally giving him space.

"He'll be all right," said a soft voice.

Jonah looked up to see Abraham standing over him.

"It's disorienting, isn't it?" the mage said, an understanding smile playing on his lips. "The feeling of weightlessness. We're not built for it. Some soup and a good night's rest will have you feeling right as rain."

Jonah didn't know what he'd expected a mage to be like, but he was surprised by the kindness in the man's voice.

"Did you...?" Jonah gestured out to the water.

Abraham nodded. "Be careful next time. Choppy seas, this close to shore."

His mom seemed to remember herself and climbed to her feet, sticking out a hand. "Thank you so much, kind mage."

Abraham ignored her outstretched hand, choosing to bow to her instead. "My pleasure. I'm afraid I must be off. Lots to do!" He winked at the crowd, then turned on his heel to return to the crow's nest. The barrel man, who had just lumbered back into the basket, let out a string of curses as he climbed back out.

As the adults retreated, a group of children swarmed Jonah, bombarding him with questions.

"What was it like to fly?"

"Could you feel the magic?"

"That was bloody brilliant!"

"Fergal, don't swear!"

"I'll do what I want, and don't you rat me out!" The boy pinched his sister's arm, then turned to Jonah. "Go on, then! Tell us everything!"

Jonah recounted the experience, and his audience devoured every detail, pressing him for more. He saw the trio from the ship a few feet away, still scowling disapprovingly but unable to tear themselves away from his tale.

#

"Jonah, get up!"

Mom's hands were rough and impatient as they tore him from the comfort of his bed.

"Whaaaat?" he moaned, sleep tugging him back. He clung tighter to his pillow.

"Now, Jonah! Come on!"

Jonah cracked open his eyes, peering suspiciously at her. She was shoving clothes into a bag, not bothering to organize them. She was still in her nightclothes, her hair wild and loose. He glanced out the window: it was still dark outside.

"What's going on?" he asked, suddenly uneasy.

"I'll tell you on the way." She flung the bag over her shoulder, then grabbed his hand and wrenched him out of bed.

"Why don't you tell me now?" His feet pounded the cold floor, and he rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand.

She knelt down and forced his feet into shoes, like she used to, years ago. She never acted like this—something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Dad rushed in with a pack slung over his shoulder, his expression serious. "Let's go."

"Go where?" Jonah whimpered. "What's going on?"

But they didn't answer. They pushed outside, into the darkness, and his eyes went wide.

A crowd of people made their way down the street. No one held lanterns, choosing darkness instead. He couldn't hear a radio, never mind an alarm beacon; it felt like the whole world had gone silent. Confused and scared, Jonah wondered what could possibly be going on.

Mom seized his hand, and they joined the eerily silent stream of people.

"You're hurting me..." Jonah whimpered. His fingers were losing sensation in Mom's vice-like grip. She loosened her hold, but only ever so slightly.

"We're going to the port," she whispered to him. "Everything's going to be okay."

That meant it wasn't.

Jonah nodded. His throat was parched. He felt like he was dreaming, but he could feel the soft sand under his feet, kicking up a fine dust that clung to his socks. A well of fear was building inside him: no, he wasn't asleep, no matter how much he wished he was.

And then he felt it: a deep rumbling beneath his feet.

Jonah stopped, the sudden motion jerking Mom back. The sand was shifting, arranging itself into new patterns as the ground trembled...

She pulled at him. "We have to keep moving, Jonah."

He didn't budge. "Can you feel that?"

Mom's face darkened. He could feel her hand shaking, even as it clasped his own. It terrified him.

"Mom, I'm scared," he said, his voice tight.

"Don't be scared," she said quickly. But there was an edge to her voice, and she looked away, behind them, squinting into the darkness.

"Carlyle..." she left Dad's name hanging in the air. The next thing Jonah knew, he was swept into Dad's arms. He buried his face in his father's shoulder, clinging tightly to him.

"To the ships?" Dad asked.

"Yes. Quickly." They began pushing through the crowd, moving faster.

He could hear something now, in the distance. It was like a swarm of bees, a thousand strong. Like thunder in a bad storm.

Over Dad's shoulder, Jonah saw an elderly man at the back of the crowd, hobbling along with a cane. He struggled to keep up, walking as quickly as he could—before he was wrenched back into the darkness.

Jonah yelped, his back going ramrod straight. Another person was yanked back. And another.

Someone screamed, and something broke in the quiet crowd—in a moment, the silent night became a symphony of fear and panic.

Dad's hold on Jonah tightened as he started to run. "Don't look, son!" he ordered, but Jonah didn't look away—he couldn't.

The crowd turned on one another in a mad rush for the harbour. Lanterns and Paragon floodlights lit up the dark sky as though someone had flipped a light switch.

Jonah stared behind them. Now he could see what they were running from.

The creature was immense. It crouched on four legs, watching the crowd scatter. Its skin was weathered and pale, almost grey, pulled tight over its skeletal frame. Blood-red eyes with slits for pupils scanned the crowd, narrowing in anticipation...

In one quick motion, the creature lunged forward and snatched a man from the throng, lifting him clear off the ground and shaking him with powerful jaws. Jonah could see its sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight as it tore into him.

A guttural sound came from the creature's throat—a strange, deep clicking that Jonah could feel more than hear.

The creature flung the bloodied body aside, uninterested in digesting its kill. It scanned the horizon, seeking its next victim. It took a single, loping step forward, when—BANG!

A soldier with a shotgun stood defiantly before the creature. She took aim, and—bang!—fired another round into its chest.

The bullets hit their intended target, but instead of piercing the beast's leathery flesh, they fell to the ground, useless.

The soldier stared up, at a loss. The creature opened its mouth wide, revealing a blackened tongue, and tore her in half.

A flicker of motion caught Jonah's eye. Another creature, just like the first, emerged from the darkness. With one swift movement, it sent three soldiers flying.

Click click click.

The low, reverberating sound made his hair stand on end. They were surrounded...

The world was reduced to sounds: feet pounding against the ground, guns firing, terrified screams...

And through it all, that horrible clicking.

As they neared the docks, every vessel that could carry people was on the move. All the sea-faring ships were already on the water, carrying people away from the mainland. Jonah watched in horror as the zeppelin dropped its final rope, severing the last tie to the Settlement. It buoyed up, heading for the safety of the sky, and Meraki beyond.

Leaving them behind.

Leaving them to die.

"Wait!" shouted a voice from up ahead. "Wait, please! Don't leave us here!"

A chorus of panicked voices joined in.

Dad's pace slowed as they approached the pier. As the crowds grew tighter, people were jostled over the edge of the dock and into the icy waves below.

A shot rang out in the darkness as violence erupted. People dropped to the ground, shielding themselves and their families from the gunfire.

Dad turned to Mom. "Mae! What should we do?"

"We won't make it to the ships," she said. "We'll wait it out in the desert. We can use the rocks for cover..."

They were running again, pushing through the crowd, back towards the dunes. Dad's breath was hot against Jonah's neck. The wind was picking up, whipping up sand. Others had the same idea, and soon the number of people bolting for the open desert far outnumbered the ones remaining at the docks. The monsters followed, tracking down their prey.

A massive storm brewed in the distance. The ships that had managed to launch were hitting immense waves. They couldn't get through—the storm was a dark barrier, trapping them.

"Get back from the beasts!" bellowed a powerful voice that seemed to reach every man, woman, and child still standing. Jonah recognized Abraham's voice, enhanced by magic so that all would hear him. "Take cover! Run!"

From high above them, screams erupted from the zeppelin. A third beast had emerged, and was wading into the sea, unbothered by the growing waves. It crouched low...and then leapt into the air.

It reached double its height, reaching for the zeppelin—

Jonah held his breath. Maybe it would fall short. Maybe it would miss. Maybe the airship would escape—

But they weren't that lucky. The creature's claw pierced the gondola, catching deadly hold.

The zeppelin lurched downwards, the beast's weight dragging it back towards the water. Tiny figures dropped out of the sky as they were thrown from the ship, plummeting into the waves below. Jonah heard gunfire as soldiers on board fired at the beast, to no avail.

Time seemed to slow. The beast and the zeppelin fell together, crashing into the sea. Yet another monster—how many could there be?—staggered out to meet them, its black tongue lolling in its mouth...

The storm grew in ferocity. Flashes of jagged white lightning flickered across the sky, illuminating the scene below: the stretch of sand along the water was stained red, littered with bodies.

Another flash: Abraham stood with his arms outstretched. His shade hovered beside him as he raised a building-sized piece of rubble over one of the creatures and sent it crashing down.

Another: two more creatures appeared out of the darkness.

Another: soldiers dropped their weapons and ran, deserting their posts...

Another: a monster lurched towards Abraham, its claws leaving long, deep scrapes in the sand...

Another: a shadow fell over the entrance to the Paragon outpost. The Lady Sofia shrieked as soldiers pulled her back. The solid metal doors clanged shut, silencing her anguished cries.

Jonah forced his eyes shut, burying his head in Dad's shoulder as they ran.

Slowly, the sounds of the world changed again.

The screams from the docks subsided, leaving a terrible silence in their wake. The breathing of others running alongside them subsided. Soon, all Jonah could hear was the click click click of the beasts and the crashing waves as the storm raged in the distance.

"Here, Carlyle," Mom finally gasped.

They stopped and Dad released Jonah, setting him back on his feet. Jonah clung to Dad's waist to keep himself upright. His legs were shaking so badly that he worried they would give way.

They were in front of a rocky outcrop in the sand. There was a crevice—too small for all of them.

"It isn't big enough!" he cried.

His parents huddled in close, pressing him between them.

"It's okay, Jonah, it's okay..."

"We love you so much."

Jonah started to cry. "No, no, no..." This was wrong, it was all wrong—

He clung to them. It was too much.

Click click click.

"Keep quiet, now," Mom whispered.

Dad pressed a hard kiss on top of Jonah's head and turned away, taking a revolver from his back pocket.

"No, don't go! Please!" Jonah wailed, reaching for Dad, but Mom held him back.

"Shhh. It's time to be brave."

"I want to stay with you!"

"I know," she said as she smoothed back his hair, the way she always did when she tucked him in at night. "But you can be brave. Come on now, say it back to me."

"I c-can be b-brave..."

"That's my boy." She wiped the tears from his cheeks. Tears were running down her face, too, but she smiled at him.

Click click click...

Jonah yelped. It sounded like the creature was right behind them!

Mom pushed him deep into the crevice. "Close your eyes now, Jonah, and cover your ears."

She turned and, without turning back, disappeared from view.

Crying silently, Jonah slipped further into the crevice. When he'd gone as far as he could, he squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hands over his ears.

"I can be brave," he whispered, rocking back and forth. "I can be brave."