Lewis parks's Arc

Chapter 1 of 7

Lewis Parks slipped out of the orphanage on Creston Street with a hammer wrapped in a pillowcase. He was twelve, and three nights ago his memory scanner had shorted at 2am and woken every kid in the building. The matron had said one more invention and he'd lose his workbench for good. He didn't care. He had a meeting. A girl who built weapons out of scrap had agreed to look at his work, and if she liked it, he'd have what he wanted most: a partner. An inventor needed an investor. He had decided she could be both. The meeting place was a yard full of broken crystal, piles of it taller than he was, glinting in every color when the sun caught the edges. Ember was already there, sitting on a slab with her red crystal ponytail over one shoulder. She watched him cross the yard without standing up. "Show me," she said. He unwrapped the hammer. He had built it from scavenged shards, fused at the joints, weighted at the head. It caught the light and threw it back in bright bands across her face. She turned it in her hands. She tapped the head against the slab. She listened. "Balance is wrong," she said. "Head's heavy on the left. But the fuse line is clean. You did this?" "I did this." He spoke fast before she could set it down. "I have a bigger one going. Half done. A forge piece. I can show you the workspace. I built it inside an old chapel down the road, the one with the cracked roof. Faceted walls. Skylights. I call it Crystal Haven." He heard himself selling. He didn't stop. "The unfinished piece is twice my height. It cuts and shapes crystal on its own once I finish the drive. I just need someone who can forge the last parts. Someone like you." Ember set the hammer down. She looked past his shoulder, then back at him. Her face didn't change, but her voice dropped. "Don't turn around fast. There's a man at the water pump. Hood up. He's been watching us since you walked in." Lewis turned his head a small degree. He saw the figure, still as a post, one hand on the pump handle that wasn't moving. The hood pointed straight at them. "He's not here for you," Ember said. "He's here for me. Old man at the docks warned me someone would come one day." Lewis's chest went tight. The hammer suddenly felt small. Ember picked it up again, tested the weight a second time, and slid it into her belt. "Balance is wrong," she repeated, "but it'll do. Partners?" He nodded before he could think. "Then we're leaving together," she said, "and you're going to finish that bigger piece faster than you planned. We're going to need it."