It was dusk by the time the beggars and hags carried him to where they were headed. The bedraggled men and women stood in front of a rusty portcullis in the center of an immense brick building. With in front of a large building shaped like a fork.

Finally Janner was set down. One of the men rang a bell.

Janner looked up above the gate, a big metal sign bore the inscription, in bold, rusty letters, FORK! FACTORY!

What was this place?

There came the sound of a door opening and someone approached, holding up a lantern. It was a ridgerunner. This one had brown eyes, black hair and sideburns. He wore a light grey shirt, a red waistcoat, a black cloak, dark gray pants, brown shoes and most notably, a black top hat.

"What have you got?" He questioned apathetically.

"Fresh goods for barter." The beggars held Janner up against the gate.

The ridgerunner held up the lantern, looking down at Janner. Then he swiftly left for the building.

"Please, let me go!" Janner struggled. "I'm not whoever you think I am!"

One of the hags covered his mouth. "Hush! No one cares who you are."

Finally the door opened, and a round-faced man wearing a black velvet top hat emerged from the building. The man wore fingerless gloves and a tattered suit with tails and purple lapels.

"Now tell me you've disturbed my sleep for a good reason, or I will grind the lot of you." He had a flat, gravelly voice with a cockney accent. When the man saw Janner, he smiled maliciously, his smooth face creased into too many wrinkles. "Now, what have you brought me?"

"A boy!" One of the hags rasped.

"A good boy!" said one of the ragged men.

The man in the top hat observed Janner analytically, holding up a lantern to get a good look at him. He pinched Janner's cheek and poked him in the chest. "Not as feeble as your usual fellows…" the man mused. "Fine, I'll take this one and replace him with one of your broken down brats. Who's next on the list…Mobrik!"

A ridgerunner skittered out with a thin, leather-bound book in his arms.

The Overseer snatched the ledger from him with a show of great impatience. "Thank you, Mobrik," he flipped through the pages of the ledger. "Name?"

A ragged man said, "Bolpin. Mykel Bolpin. M-my daughter Lily. Taken eight years past. Like the flower."

"Like the flower," the Overseer mocked. He flipped through the pages again. "Now, let's see. Lily Bolpin… Yes! Pale sickly girl, hardly worth the soup we waste on her. Fine, I'll swap her for your fresh boy."

The man sank to his knees and looked to the heavens, his eyes shining in his dirty face like jewels in a mud hole. "My Lily!"

"She'll be dumped down here at dawn, collect her then. Now, begone! I can't tolerate the stink of you lot anymore!"

And Janner was promptly dropped to the ground with a grunt. The last Janner saw of Mykel Bolpin, he left with the others, looking less like a beggar and more like a father with every moment.

But he couldn't dwell on that for long.

There was the crack of a whip. "Raise the gate!" ordered Mobrik.

Halfway open, the Overseer cracked the whip again, signaling the gate workers to stop. Then he reached out and pulled Janner inside by his hair then tossed inside as the gate closed.

Janner got his bearings, and glanced up at the two shady characters who watched him coldly.

Then the Overseer spoke, "Now don't you worry boy, this isn't really happening. It's just the start of a pretty little never ending nightmare."

Janner grimaced nervously. He didn't like the sound of that,

Meanwhile, at the Roundish Widow, Oskar interrogated Ronchy, who explained himself.

"Look, I found your boys and the older girl hiding in my tavern this morning." Ronchy said.

Oskar gasped.

"I sent 'em to Tilling street to find you." Ronchy added.

Oskar's face fell. "But, they never arrived."

Ronchy looked out into the alleyway in concern with a sigh. "Can't say I fancy the chances of those youngsters if they're still wandering these Fang infested streets at night."

Oskar hummed thoughtfully. "Then I'll have to look for help from another one of our friends."

"Is that wise? Migg might not have been the only turncoat among us."

"It's a risk I'll have to take." Oskar said.

Inside the dark building, Mobrik untied Janner. Given his history with ridgerunners, Janner didn't particularly want to talk to the sneaky little creature.

The ridgerunner then detected the leftover scent from the fazzledoves. He noticed it was on the rope that previously bound Janner, he grimaced then tossed it away, and wiped his left hand on Janner in disgust.

The Overseer glowered at Janner, circling him. Mobrik watched with a malicious smirk.

Janner stared warily, not knowing what to make of this.

"What is your name, child?" The Overseer inquired.

Thinking fast and wanting to risk it, Janner said the first name that came to mind. "E-Esben. Esben Flagvogle."

"Wrong!" The Overseer then punched Janner in the stomach.

Stars filled Janner's vision, and tears welled up as he struggled for air. Mobrik sneered and wrote down the name in the ledger.

"You don't have a name anymore, here you're just a tool!" The Overseer then forced Janner's head up to face him before releasing him.

Mobrik stooped over Janner and smiled full malice. "And tools don't speak to the Overseer. If he speaks to you, you nod." Mobrik nodded. "Or shake your head." He shook his head from side to side.

The Overseer narrowed his eyes at Janner. "Do you understand now, tool?"

Janner considered answering aloud again, just to see the look on the Overseer's face. But he didn't particularly want to be punched again, and with the portcullis shut, he was certain there was nowhere to run, however big this building might be. He sighed and nodded his head.

"Hmm, Mobrik, take him to the paring station." The Overseer pointed to another door leading further into the building.

"With the rusty snips?" Mobrik smiled spitefully.

The Overseer chuckled nastily in confirmation. "A night of hard labor without sleep or food should make 'im a bit more... pliable."

Janner didn't say anything. They could call him a tool all day long, but that didn't make it so. There's always a way out, Janner thought. And as soon as he found it, he would slip away to the burrow where his family waited.

In the meantime, Oskar meant what he said about going to find help elsewhere. He carefully snuck to dark alleyways until he reached a collection of wooden houses hidden well thanks to the shadows and smoke of Dugtown.

He went up to one and knocked on the door hesitantly.

The door opened to show a pale man in his thirties. Blue eyes, black hair and a mustache and goatee. He wore what appeared to be gray furs.

"Reteep? Shouldn't you be already halfway to... somewhere else?" The man questioned.

"We were attacked last night by a hundred Fangs! And may I add..." Oskar explained.

Gammon stopped him, "I know all about that. Which is why I'm confused that you're still here."

"We've lost the boys and our friend Elisheva during the fight - we can't leae without them!" Oskar said worriedly. "Please, help us!"

Gammon sighed, "I'll be blunt. Kids on these streets... they tend to vanish for good. If they've been missing a day already, I hate to say it but..."

"Oh, but these boys are quite extraordinary! The whole family...important! They're Annieran!" Oskar elaborated.

"Anneirans?" Gammon looked at him inquisitively. "Interesting as that may be, the Shining Isle fell."

"There's more! The older girl Elisheva...she's literally not from Aerwiar!"

"What do you mean not from Aerwiar?" Gammon was skeptical. "Even if that's true I cannot risk my men to track down a few refugees."

Oskar pleaded for help then something scattered along the crates from the alleys close by, alarming both men. They both froze for a few seconds to make sure nothing was there but rats and other random animals.

Gammon turned to Oskar sternly. "Listen, if you and the others don't get out tonight, you're going to lose all your Annierans and foreigners." he said. "Khrak is tearing Dugtown apart looking for you. And I hear the Stranders put a bounty out as well."

Oskar continued to plead with Gammon for help but the rebel leader refused albeit sadly.

"I'm sorry old friend. Maker keep you." and he closed the door.

Oskar winced and became forlorn. "Oh dear, this is worse than awful."

And he nervously began making his way back to the Strander burrow. If only he knew Elisheva was out looking for the boys too.

Elisheva's search began in earnest, first thing's first she fastened her cloak and set off in search.

"Dad, Zev if you're out there wait for me." She murmured. "Jan, Tink I'm on my way."

And unbeknownst to them, Oskar was just several blocks away from where Janner was kept.

As Janner is led inside, he considered running back down the long hallway. Maybe if he surprised them with a sudden escape, he could find a way out near the portcullis—for that matter, maybe he could get the two children to open it again. He might even take them with him-but then what? He wouldn't make it far through the streets of Dugtown with two tired children in tow, especially at night when only the Fangs and trolls were about.

"I wouldn't if I were you."

Janner blinked.

Mobrik had removed his little top hat and looked at him cock-eyed, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Kids try it all the time when they first arrive. Truth is, the Overseer hopes you'll try to escape. It gives him a chance for some target practice with his whip. Trust me. You're better off at the paring station, boy."

"W-what's the paring station?"

Mobrik the ridgerunner replaced his hat and descended the steps. He stood at the bottom and waited. "Run if you like. You'll end up here either way. But if you come now, you'll not be bleeding and sore from the boss's whip."

Janner took one last look at the door. With a sigh, he walked down the steps and followed the ridgerunner. As he approached the machinery, the temperature increased. Janner's eyes watered, and he found himself unable to keep from blinking constantly.

Mobrik seemed to have no trouble with the heat. They passed black iron barrels as tall as a house. All around them, flames spurted from pipes and chimneys, and iron wheels clanked.

Every now and then he'd spotted odd posters.

One read 'Lazy Tools got to the box', another said 'Found fruit? Report to Mobrik', and another poster had five rules that read:

'1. Your name is Tool

2. No laughing

3. No Talking

4. No crying

5. No tooting '

Janner soon figured out the very same thing as Samuel Bennet had months ago: it was a weapons factory. He recognized the graceless curve of a Fang blade, though the hilt hadn't yet been attached. He had never wondered where the Fangs got their weapons. Someone had to make them, after all.

But children? That explained why there were so few children in Dugtown. Whatever children weren't stolen probably lived out their days indoors, under the watchful eyes of their parents. Then Janner remembered the picture on Ronchy McHiggins's wall. They had stolen his child too.

"Glorious, isn't it?" Mobrik smirtled. "All the parts at work, assembled and punctual."

He lead Janner to a table with blades and large rusty scissors. "Or as you'll soon call it, home." And he swiftly leaped onto the table. "Take those snips, trim away any extra bits from the blades."

Janner looked at him. "And when I'm done?"

"You'll never be done." Mobrik said haughtily. "There'll always be more. Forever."

Janner resisted the urge to wrestle the little ridgerunner to the ground and thump him. Instead he took the large scissors and cut away and extra section but part of the handles closed down on his left thumb. "Ow!"

Mobrik regarded him through hooded eyes. "Just do that ten thousand more times, and before you know it..." He walked to the end of a table onto a rigging hook large enough to hold the ridgerunner. "Your first double shift will be over." Mobrik snickered as the hook pulled him upwards.

Janner watched him go then saw a little boy around Leeli's age pushing a large metal cart full of blades. "Hey..." he attempted to get the smaller boy's attention.

The little boy winced and fearfully put his finger to his lips. "Shh!"

Solemnly, Janner saw the little boy hurry away with the cart and turned back to the paring station. He might as well get this over and done with.

Back in the burrow, the others were gravely worried for both the boys and Elisheva alike after Oskar returned.

Leeli sadly curled up leaning against Podo, who patted his granddaughter's head.

"Even in the worst case," Oskar said. "If they've been captured, at least the boys are with Elisheva together."

Nia was besides herself. Where could they be?

Then there was the sound of the passageway leading to the tunnels opening. They all straightened up. Could it be?

"Boys? Janner? Kalmar? Elisheva?" Nia hesitantly called out.

But it wasn't them.

"Maraly?" Podo blinked in surprise.

"Keep your voices down!" Maraly hissed. "Lest you all want your throats cut!"

Podo rumbled threateningly, his hand on the handle of his blade.

"Not by me, by Claxton." Maraly informed darkly.

"Your father?" inquired Oskar in surprise.

"Yes, if you want to call him that." Maraly then said, "He put out a Strander bounty for all of you."

"A Bounty?!" Podo snarled. "That Strander is lining up with the Fangs?"

"You made him look a fool a few nights ago." Maraly pointed out. "He'd sell you to the Fangs for spite, and for the coin."

Podo scowled, thinking fast. "His clan has eyes everywhere, we won't be safe anywhere in Dugtown!"

"Then we'll keep waiting for the boys here." Nia said.

Podo looked at her. "In a Strander burrow?"

Maraly scoffed. "By High noon, Stranders will crawling through these tunnels like antworms."

"I will not leave Dugtown without Janner and Kalmar, let alone Elisheva." Nia declared, feeling torn. "I won't!"

Having her boys lost out there in a dangerous city was bad enough, but Elisheva...

Initially, Nia had thought of Elisheva as a teenage runaway living alone on the streets. She'd been stunned to see the young woman show such kindness towards strangers she'd only met a few times. However, since Elisheva has been living with the family for the past months in Peet's treehouse, Nia has grown to care for the young woman as her own child.

"I be blade to bonnets that the Fangs already caught 'em." Maraly murmured. "The only question now is whether you'll get away to save that little one." And she pointed to Leeli.

Leeli gasped. She was conflicted, she wanted her brothers and her friend but as afraid of being captured too. "Mama...?"

"I know it's a tough bite of henmeat to swallow, dear but..." Podo began glumly.

"Papa, no!"

"Hear me out, Elisheva and the boys know our plan is to head to the Ice Prairies." Podo stood up. "Maybe we go now, lead Leeli to safety and trust that they will follow."

"On their own? In the wild?!" Nia sputtered. "Elisheva may be older, but she was barely able to get to Glipwood, she won't know the way!"

Maraly intervened. "They'll sent the Dugtown militia on your tail, you're being hunted by Stranders as we speak! And Fangs near behind!"

"The girl makes a point." Podo agreed. "If we stay here any longer... the Strander will find us."

Leeli dropped her gaze then made her way to Maraly. "Why are you helping us?"

There was a very long pause, Maraly looked uncomfortable.

"Cause I'm a fool apparently!" Maraly blurted out. she turned away in discomfort then turned back to face them, "Save your girl, it don't matter to me! From my part, I gave you a fair warning."

And she left. Once she did Nia looked to Podo. "Papa…!"

Podo looked irresolute. Could they make it?

That same night, while Janner was trapped in the Fork! Factory! and Elisheva was traipsing around Dugtown searching for both her family and the boys, Tink was making his way to the entry tunnel where two men in front of the shack that would lead to the Strander tunnels sat, drinking cider.

One of the men elbowed the other and they looked at Tink in bewilderment, as if never expecting to see him again so soon.

"It's me! Chief of the East bend!" Tink boasted. "Which way to the Strander camp?"

"Yer lookin' for yer family? I reckon they're still in the burrows." One of the men said. "Or head to the East bend in the oath out front."

Tink held Claxton's pone in his hands. He was sick of running, he was sick of rules and not doing whatever he wanted whenever he wanted.

What did Janner know? And Elisheva was wrong about the Stranders. He'll show them.

"See you at the party!" Tink said brazenly.

The men shrugged. "Well a strander is as a strander does."

If Kalmar expected a warm welcome from the Stranders of the East bend, he was in for a big disappointment. He walked right into the camp, but none of the Stranders aren't happy that he is back.

"Ye shouldn't be here boy." one Strander man scoffed.

Tink attempted to declare a Strander revelry but an unpleasant face rose up nearby.

"Oh do you?" Claxton Weaver stood toe to toe with Tink. "The only problem is you have to be a Strander chief to declared a revel, am I right?"

All the other Stranders murmured in agreement. The next thing Tink knew he was picked up by the collar.

"And to be a Strander chief, you have to hold a Chief's pone!"

With that Claxton, struck Tink and pinned the boy to the ground with one foot before snatching back his one. Tink could only stare in shock as it registered that he made a grave mistake in choices.

And it doesn't look anyone will be helping him now.

To be continued…

Author's note: And that's where we get see... *Pum! Pum! Pum! Dramatic music* The infamous Fork! Factory! Elisheva's gonna be searching around for days but there's almost no library she can go to safely like Glipwood. So we're gonna get to see what her little brother Zev is up to in the next chapter.