Sam looked down from the

  metallic bridge and wished he hadn’t. They were so high up, suspended by

  interlinking steel homes and bridge networks. He marveled at the grand scale of

  the settlement, clinging to the insides of the canyon wall like a mechanical

  parasite—burrowing, thriving. A loud horn sounded again, pulling him from his

  short trance of awe. This time the sound stretched like the roar of a large

  metal monster and faded to nothing. He searched for the source of the sound,

  but all he saw on this level were people and shops of old iron plates and

  slathered paint. From below he heard the grinding of old engines as a bridge

  moved, connecting two distant parts of the city for traffic to move. Sam

  scoffed. He stood in a giant steampunk city, yet the air was fresh and cool. He

  turned to face his guide, a short woman with a severe look and bright, alive

  eyes.

  “What is this place,

  Nadia?” Sam asked, watching as two boys rappelled down from a balcony one floor

  below them. Nadia frowned, her lips forming a thin line as she glared at the

  laughing boys. Sam watched with some fascination. Even with homes squeezed together

  against the canyon walls, there were some outlandish structures scattered

  within the population of brown homes and rust-colored roofs. He stared up,

  starting at the domes and spires that dotted the higher layers of the city,

  their walls catching sunlight, shining like gems at noontime.

  “This is Cragforge,”

  Nadia said. Her voice was clipped and unfriendly. She watched him carefully

  from the rim of her glasses. There was no malice to her, Sam realized. She

  stared at everyone with equal severity, as though they were all opponents or

  mild nuisances she wished to do away with. But for Sam, she had a special

  dislike. Sam smiled at the woman, nodding. The name was fitting. The city

  itself was a three-headed marvel, split into almost equal sizes. Each part held

  tightly knitted structures like brown ants crowding an anthill.

  “You have said that

  before,” Sam said and quickly held the bridge’s railing as it disengaged and

  swiveled slightly to the left. Nadia stared at him with cool, bored eyes. Sam

  grinned, unable to help himself.

  “Why do you want to

  know?” Nadia asked. That had been her answer to any question he asked since he

  woke up. Her gloved hands were clasped in front of her. Her stiff trousers and

  jacket were loose around her small frame. She walked closer, enough for Sam to

  perceive the hint of her profession on her. Herbs and alcohol clung to her,

  long becoming a part of her natural smell. Sam met her gaze, not wanting to

  look weak.

  “I would like to know

  where I am,” Sam said, feeling the bridge lock into place, connecting them to a

  different part of the city. This one was smaller than the other sections,

  jutting out in the middle of the canyon. The buildings here were spaced, connected

  by strange, tubed bridges and some kind of weird pulley system meant to help

  with long vertical transport. People pushed past them, hurrying for whatever

  Sam couldn’t imagine. Again, he stared at the city’s magnificence. He’d

  expected to hear the occasional hisses and the constant white puff of steam

  forming a dense mist over the city, but there was none. Which meant the city

  ran on something else. He made a note to find out later.

  “You are… strange,” Nadia

  said, turning to peer at him. Sam grinned. He could understand the distrust. He

  assumed that would be his opinion too if he was a native of the city. He spent

  most of their walk staring at the people—their clothes of leather and stiff

  fabrics. The designs were more functional than aesthetic. Most of them had some

  strangely designed rifles. More of the population were armed in this section.

  Their faces were alive, but Sam saw the hardness in their eyes.

  Sam stopped again when

  they entered the tube bridge. From the outside, he’d thought it was made with

  dark glass, but he’d been wrong. He touched it with his left hand while

  adjusting the right in the strap. He tried to figure out what was used for the

  tube. It was transparent from the inside, clear as any glass he’d ever seen. It

  looked seamless from start to finish, which meant it hadn’t been melted and

  joined. This also told him it might have been done with magic.

  Nadia stopped and turned

  to him, her stare carrying that silent judgment Sam had gotten used to. She

  gestured for him to move and he did, the tube-bridge giving him more questions.

  On the other side of the

  bridge lay a large expanse of structures even more impressive than what he’d

  seen before. Nadia led him to a particularly large, multi-layered building.

  They climbed black stone steps, walking through a courtyard of white stone statues

  and a verdant lawn snipped to perfection.

  “Nadia,” a man called,

  pushing the rifle hanging from a strap behind him. Nadia turned her withering

  gaze on him and Sam watched it soften. He leaned down once he was close enough

  and kissed her. She touched his face lovingly before remembering Sam and five

  other people were watching them. The man grinned.

  “This is the one they

  saved?” the man asked, nodding to Sam. The five other people behind him were

  dressed just like him—in dark combat uniforms with stiff edges. Thin, plain

  iron-plated armor protected their chests and guts. And a belt strap with a confusing

  number of pockets and a sword loop for the short blade hanging from their

  waists. They looked strong and efficient and Sam felt an instant need to be

  liked by them. No, by the man still holding Nadia’s hand.

  Nadia snorted. “They

  brought him to me as a husk,” she said, glancing at Sam before turning back to

  the man. “Alecsa still in there, Daryl?” She asked, pointing toward the

  building they’d been headed to. “She asked that I bring him to her, but he

  stopped to stare at so many things on the way that the trip here took twice as

  much time. And the L-3 Bridge didn’t switch at the normal time.”

  Daryl grinned, nodding.

  “You heard the horn?” he asked and Nadia nodded, her frown deepening. “Well,

  Wexi made a small upgrade to the linking system. You know her, always tinkering

  about. It will take some time to get it regulated as before.”

  Nadia hissed but gave him

  a subtle nod. She reached up and touched his face softly, her eyes crackling

  like kindling. He grinned childishly, kissing the inside of her hand. Once they

  separated, all that vanished. His eyes held the affection for only a moment and

  then they turned around to leave. Nadia gestured for Sam to follow, but Sam was

  too busy staring at Daryl and his group as they walked away in the direction of

  the tube.

  “Who are they?” Sam

  asked, following slowly behind. They climbed another series of stairs, this one

  taking them to a platform of shaped stones and a large fountain that poured out

  a blue shimmering liquid from the mouth of a large, metal dragon.

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  “Daryl’s unit, Cragforge

  Forces,” Nadia said. “Daryl is my husband.”

  Sam didn’t know what to

  say to the latter part, so he moved on with another question that had been

  bothering him since he saw it. “How come some parts of the city have

  vegetation?”

  “Engineered,” Nadia said

  as if that was all he needed to know. After a brief silence, she sighed. “You

  will meet Wexi soon and you can ask all the questions you want. Most of what

  you see in the city now was here before my time.”

  Sam nodded, taking the

  subtle hint of her request for silence. He looked up, finding another building,

  this one smaller than the one they now approached. The sky was a large spread

  of blue-white above. From here, Sam couldn’t see the lip of the canyon, but he

  knew it was there, the edge of this city. He wondered if the D’Araks would come

  down, but he didn’t believe the Alpha would do something as stupid as

  descending on a city with the right kind of firepower to consume him and his

  pack.

  In a few minutes, Sam was

  standing before a whip of a woman. Her hair was silver-grey. Her eyes scanned

  him as if searching for something within him he didn’t know he carried. She

  looked old and hard as the mountain the city seemed hewn out of. Her glare was

  overwhelming to hold; it lent weight to the silence that pressed down on Sam.

  He wanted to say something, but his throat felt tight, his chest heavy with

  anticipation.

  “What do you think?” she

  asked, moving her gaze to Nadia. Sam sighed, relieved she hadn’t directed her

  first question to him.

  “Weak,” Nadia said and

  Sam winced. “He would have died if Fletch and his team had been even a moment’s

  late. Also, he is clueless, which gives the impression that he is not from

  here. Sincerely can’t tell if that is the truth or if he is playing dumb.

  Vianna checked him while he slept, he had not chosen a domain yet.”

  Samuel glowered at her,

  hating how they seemed to forget he was standing right there.

  “Why?” the silver-grey

  woman asked. Her face carried minimal signs of age, except for the hair and the

  thin lines of wrinkles; she seemed agile. She stood up, her hands clasped

  behind her, her walk short and measured; militaristic. She was a large hawk. Her

  back was straight and broad as she walked around her desk and over to Sam. Sam

  wanted to take a step back, but he stayed in place, arrested by her

  scrutinizing eyes. On old Earth, he’d have cowered or tried to show faux

  courage. But here, he didn’t have to. He held her gaze even though it was

  uncomfortable. He was familiar with the tactics, and he didn’t have to be

  afraid. If they wanted him dead, they would have simply left him for the

  D’Araks to have him. So he matched the woman’s glare as much as he could. The

  moment stretched like melted rubber and then finally, she smiled coldly,

  nodding. Sam took that as her approval. He wasn’t sure what she was approving,

  but he smiled genuinely in return.

  A knock pulled all their

  attention to the door on the other side of the room. Sam turned to the map on

  the right wall. The colors were vivid, as though coded. In large block letters,

  he saw Saheruta written in the middle. He’d heard that name from Veena before.

  He itched to take a look, but instead, he turned to the woman that just entered

  the office.

  “Alecsa,” the woman said,

  waving to Nadia as she walked over to pull the silver-grey woman into a long

  hug.

  “You still smell of fire

  and burnt hair, Wexi,” Alecsa said, pulling away from the woman. She walked

  back to sit behind her desk. “You will do well to use those safety constructs

  you made. I doubt Nadia and her people like expending essence and herbs in

  treating injuries you can and should avoid.”

  Nadia scowled at Alecsa

  but didn’t respond. The new woman, Wexi, chuckled as if she’d heard this

  argument too many times to be bothered by it. Instead, she came to stand beside

  Sam, her eyes roaming his face. He was uncomfortable with her directness, but

  she was different from Alecsa. There was a different quality to her intensity.

  Her filmy eyes roamed over his face, her hands on her hips. She sighed and then

  chuckled excitedly before turning to Alecsa.

  “Samuel Ayer,” she said,

  grinning. The familiarity in her voice was startling but warm. She wheeled

  around to Alecsa. “I want him!”

  “What?” Nadia asked, her

  frown turning bitingly dark. Alecsa suddenly seemed exhausted. “He will bring

  trouble to us! The D’Araks are dogs. They pick a sniff and they lock in on that

  prey. We saved him, patched him up. He can get on his way.”

  “And where would that be?”

  Wexi asked. Sam stared straight at Alecsa. He’d gotten the impression that she

  held some authority in the city; now the other two women had confirmed it.

  Perhaps she was the leader. He looked at the map again, and then back to Alecsa.

  Her eyes were now on him as the other two women made their case. Sam had

  stopped listening. He wasn’t sure why the one they called Wexi wanted him, but

  he’d rather be with her, at least for now.

  “Samuel Ayer,” Alecsa

  called, and Sam blinked her into focus. “Where are you from?” she asked, the

  intensity was back, mixed with something else. He felt it physically, like a

  blanket of something heavy taking his ability to breathe away. Panic rose in

  his chest, his heart raced like an overworked horse. Fear. , Sam

  reminded himself. He was in a different world, one he didn’t have to show

  weakness to anyone.

  “Stop,” Sam said,

  scowling at Alecsa. He wasn’t sure what he was asking her to do, but he made

  sure she knew he was talking to her. His body trembled and he fought the urge

  to lean on the table to hold himself up. There was a distant realization that

  whatever was happening to him, she was going all the way. That didn’t do much

  for his confidence, but he glared at her until the weight slid off him.

  “Ah!” Wexi laughed beside

  him, clapping her hands excitedly. Sam sighed audibly, unable to hold in the

  quick flush of relief. Wexi placed a hand on his back, grinning like an excited

  child.

  “Not a coward after all,”

  Wexi whispered to him.

  “Where are you from,

  Samuel Ayer? And trust me, that is the least I can do. Nadia can tell when you

  lie, and if she says you are lying, then you will suffer worse than you

  suffered from the claws of the D’Araks.”

  Sam sighed, hating the

  threat. He told them how he appeared in this world and almost got killed by the

  D’Araks. He kept the Scavenger’s cave to himself, not wanting to put them in

  any kind of danger. Wexi was grinning when he told them of his battles with the

  Lix. Even Alecsa looked surprised. When he was done, all three women were

  silent, except Wexi was grinning.

  “I still think it is

  unwise to let him stay,” Nadia said, her hand folded over her chest. She didn’t

  meet Sam’s eyes, and he could see that the irritated frown was gone.

  “Do we turn out humans

  now?” Wexi asked with laughter in her voice. “Cragforge was built to keep

  humans from the dangers out there, and will we just throw out one who needs our

  help the most?”

  “You are just fascinated

  by him and that weapon he was found with,” Nadia said, hissing. “You and your

  eccentricities will get us killed, Wexi.” Nadia nodded to Alecsa and walked out

  of the room. The others watched her leave in silence.

  “There is no danger to

  having him here, Alecsa. And he has nowhere to g—”

  “I agree with her, Wexi,”

  Alecsa said. “But I also see what you mean.” She turned to Sam and he perked

  up. “You will be the outsider, Samuel Ayer. I hope you can live with that. Out

  there, the dangers are alarming, but there are other types of danger here too.

  You will be safe from the forces out there, but how you fare with the ones here

  will be up to you. And as stubborn as Wexi is, she won’t be able to protect

  you.”

  Wexi snorted.

  “Don’t mind the old

  wench.”

  Her elbow nudged Sam, a

  grin pulling her lips to show rows of yellow teeth. “Welcome to Cragforge,

  Samuel Ayer.” Sam grinned, trying to hide the wince from the pain of her

  touching his sore side.

  Alecsa whispered a curse.