The next day it rained, and Guardian Harper canceled school, citing a sore throat. The boys went to Connor's apartment to play.

Connor's mother, Kari, welcomed Reuben in. "So glad you could make it! I got out the craft supplies for you children. They're in Connor's room."

Reuben would have preferred video games, but Connor was still on restriction from them. Crafts were a decent second option.

Connor shared a room with his little sister Stephanie. She was seven, with long black hair, and already hard at work cutting up paper at a tiny table between their beds. She wasn't a Guardian, either - as far as anyone knew.

Reuben folded several paper airplanes, decorated a mask for himself, and doodled a ghost in red pen. He daydreamed about chatting to his own ghost, asking it questions, watching it appear whenever he called. He kept this secret hope to himself-he didn't want Connor to get excited about something that might not happen.

Connor brought out his scale model glider. It was an arrow-shaped craft with a frame made of bits of wood. Connor threw it into the air. It drifted across the room, perfectly balanced, until it hit the far wall.

"Let me try!" Reuben exclaimed.

They played with the glider until the wings were too bent to fly anymore. Then Kari called them for lunch.

Guardian Jayesh was there, his grin very white in his dark face. His warlock robe hung on a hook beside the door, dripping rain water beside a pair of soaked boots.

"Welcome to spring in the Last City," Jayesh said, hugging Connor and Stephanie. "Hello, Reuben. I saw your father today. You feeling all right?"

Reuben nodded, words fleeing his brain. He concentrated on the sandwich Kari set in front of him. Of course, warlocks would know the most about strange visions, and Charles and Jayesh often worked together. But Reuben didn't want to talk about it in front of everyone.

Jayesh didn't ask any more questions. He and Kari discussed Vanguard business that sounded dull and adult. Beneath their conversation, Connor whispered to Reuben, "After lunch, I'll show you this great place I found."

Reuben nodded.


That afternoon, the rain still poured down in a cold, gray sheet. Beneath his raincoat, Reuben's shirt and pants grew inexplicably damp.

Connor led him across the Tower walk and down the side of the hanger, perilously close to the edge of the wall.

"Where are we going?" Reuben asked him, glancing out at the City. Fortunately, the rain hid how high up they were, and all he saw was a blank gray curtain.

"The old Tower's still blocked off," Connor replied. "But I found a way around the barricades."

"We're going to the old Tower?" Reuben's heart beat faster. "What's it like?"

"Burned up!" Connor replied with enthusiasm. "But there's plenty of places still standing where we could build the glider. Nobody goes in there except a salvage crew on Mondays."

Reuben picked his way along the narrow walkway, keeping close to the wall, away from the ten-story drop. The wind swirled his raincoat about and drove droplets in his face. Connor, on the other hand, forged ahead without fear. But then, Connor feared nothing, due to his ghost instantly healing every cut and bruise. She was invisible at the moment, keeping out of the rain.

The walkway ended in a waist-high concrete barricade. The boys scrambled over it. On the other side was a metal staircase leading up into the old Tower. The new Tower walk connected a short distance away, blocked off with a temporary fence and warning signs. But the boys were on the inside of the fence.

Reuben didn't ask how long it had taken Connor to figure out an alternate route. Half an hour, maybe.

"This way!" Connor exclaimed, running up the stairs. Reuben followed him.

The stairs zigzagged up into the old Tower. They ducked through a spot where the stairwell ceiling had partially collapsed and been shored up with bits of splintered lumber. Rainwater dripped through and plinked on the metal stairs.

Reuben and Connor climbed up into the Tower proper. They picked their way through a burned-out area that might once have been shops, and finally arrived in the Tower courtyard.

The pavement had been upended in huge slabs, the central buildings reduced to mounds of rubble. Paths had been beaten into the ruin by salvage crews, and several doorways off the courtyard had been cleared and opened, the spaces beyond them dark and mysterious.

To the adults who had once lived and worked there, the ruined Tower in the rain was a depressing place. But to two boys, it was heaven. They explored each of the wings, exclaiming to each other about what they knew of the Red War from school and the Solstice holiday, which had been observed every year since the attack.

"We could stake out any of these rooms and build a glider," Connor said. "But mostly, I want the hanger. Come and see!"

The old hanger had taken a direct hit during the initial bombing, and most of it was caved in on itself. Several crushed ships had been cut open by salvage crews, their engines and instruments gone. But Connor had located several light aluminum bars that would work for a glider's frame. He'd laid them out in the proper shape in an open space behind one of the wrecked ships, hidden from anyone who walked in.

"All we need is tools," he said with a maniac gleam in his eyes. "We can screw these together, then attach the webbing."

Reuben looked doubtfully at the bars. "What will you use as webbing? Not paper, right?"

"Fabric!" Connor replied. "I know where they keep the tarpaulins for the new Tower."

"You're going to steal one?" Reuben exclaimed.

"No," Connor replied with exaggerated patience. "I'm going to borrow one. How good are you at sewing?"

Reuben imagined forcing a needle through the thick canvas. "I can sew a little, but I think it'll be pretty tough."

"I can, too," Connor replied. "Sewing's no big deal - just a lot of stitches, right? I can get needles and thread, no problem. Now we only need-"

He stopped. Voices echoed distantly from the courtyard.

Instantly both boys dove beneath the wrecked ship and crawled into the darkness on their bellies. They lay there, side by side, peering out. Great hiding place or not, the old Tower was still off-limits. Being caught would mean the Vanguard's displeasure and severe punishment from their parents.

A Guardian and a ghost entered the hanger, dripping rainwater and arguing. The boys recognized their teacher, Guardian Harper. He was a tall, thin human, a warlock who did double duty as a Cryptarch. His shoulders were slightly stooped, and he walked with a limp that his ghost never could seem to heal.

"I don't care what your reasoning is," his ghost was saying, her voice sharp and intense. "It's evil and you have to stop."

"It's not evil," Harper replied. "It's business. You didn't think it was bad out in the Reef."

"That was different," his ghost snapped. "This is the Tower. You can't do that here."

Harper crossed the hanger, leaving the boys' line of sight, but they heard him rummaging through something metal. The noise covered what else his ghost said, but a moment later, Harper returned, his arms full of machine parts.

"Look," he was telling his ghost, "this has nothing to do with that. It's just a way to make some extra glimmer, and it's not hurting them."

"You don't know that!" his ghost exclaimed. "You haven't asked and you haven't tested it."

They departed, their voices echoing across the courtyard.

Connor and Reuben remained in hiding for several minutes in silence. Then Reuben said, "Were they talking about us?"

Connor said, "I don't know. He didn't sound like he had a sore throat, either."

"Wouldn't his ghost heal it, anyway?"

Connor tilted his head a little, listening to his ghost inside his head. "Varan thinks we should tell someone."

"But wouldn't we have to mention we'd been here?" Reuben asked. "My Dad will kick my butt clear to the south gate."

Connor bit his lower lip and gave Reuben a worried look. "Mine will, too. And I'm still on restriction."

"Maybe it was nothing," Reuben said hopefully. "I mean, he was building something. You saw all that stuff he got. His ghost probably just doesn't like it."

"Maybe he's making his own glimmer drill," Connor said, brightening. "That's super illegal. Man, I'd love to see it in action."

They crawled out from under the ship, Reuben with misgivings - Connor had better not try building a glimmer drill after he finished the glider.

"We can investigate at school tomorrow," Connor went on. "If something's weird, then we'll tell. Sound good?"

"Sounds good," Reuben said, less enthusiastically. Guardian Harper was very strict and wouldn't take kindly to his students poking around the workshop where he taught. Suddenly the old Tower seemed full of shadows. Reuben glanced around the dark hanger. "I want to go home."

"Me too." Connor led the way back into the courtyard, pausing to peer around at each doorway. "Besides, I want a snack."

Reuben didn't reply. He cared less about snacks and more about escaping the shapeless darkness that lurked at their heels.