Meanwhile, many miles away, a different sort of operation took place in the Phoob islands.

The Phoobs were in the north, between Fingap Falls and the Ice Prairies, a scattering of small islands, some of which boasted port cities crawling with pirates and sailors and traders. Arthram aka Peet, had never been there, but he had seen the islands from the cliffs. They were brown stony bumps on the back of the sea, like a flock of giant turtles resting off the coast.

Deep within a fortress deep in the earth, where water seeped through stone, the ghoulish figure that drove the black Carriage took out a fanged lizard the size of an iguana and deposited the creature into a cage inside an iron chamber.

Fires blazed in the corners, torches lined the walls and there was a dais in the center of the chamber.

The mysterious woman in black, the Stonekeeper turned holding a book and quill in her hands. "Who's next?"

She looked towards a group of people in line, some trembled or wept. Many children, several were adults. The next one was a man who walked forward confidently.

The Stonekeeper looked at him analytically. "Old name?"

"Derver, Ma'am. Derver Sleets." the man replied.

"And would you sing the Song of Stones, Derver?"

"Yes, Ma'am. And is it like they say?"

"What do they say?" The Stonkeeper said sounding guileless.

"That I'll be stronger...and not afraid of anything anymore." The man said, glancing around.

The Stonekeeper touched his cheek. "You'll be one of my children. My children need fear nothing."

And she let him walk into the chamber, which the ghoulish figure closed the door then pulled down a lever.

Within, Derver saw a stone that started to glow red. He couldn't help looking at it. The lizard in its cage, fidgeted nervously.

"Sing my child..." The Stonekeeper coaxed. "Sing the song of Stones."

Derver began to sing the song. It was a guttural melody that might've been beautiful, if not used for such sinister purposes.

The lizard within its cage appeared to join in the song, guided by some unknown instincts. A moment later a red light filled the iron box and shot through the seams in the door.

After a few seconds, the glowing stopped and the door creaked open.

"Come, come." beckoned the Stonekeeper.

From the iron chamber, instead of a human man... a Fang walked out!

The Fang examined himself for a few seconds before letting two animalistic bellows.

"Another beauty." The Stonekeeper laughed. "Your new name shall be: Skag!"

"Skag! Skag! Skag!" The other Fangs had begun chanting, cheering for the birth of another Fang.

From a large cage hanging from the ceiling, Arthram was imprisoned.

They had carried him down several flights of stairs and turned left and right so many times that he lost all sense of direction. The place looked and felt so much like the Deeps of Throg that he wondered if he had dreamed his way across the Dark Sea after all.

In sporadic moments when his mind was clear, he knew who he was. He knew he was the Throne Warden of Anniera. He knew he had been separated from his charges, his nephews and niece, the hope of the Shining Isle. And from keeping the Key, an innocent young woman, safe. His mind thrummed with words and stories and thoughts he ached to chase to their end with a pen and parchment. It had been a long time since he had held a quill. The talons where his hands used to be were good for nothing but battle. He looked among the children for Janner, Tink, and Leeli, or Elisheva and he was relieved not to find them.

But how long would he last?

The storm raged on over the apartment complex. The clouds boiled. Rain lashed the leaves on the trees. Thunder was followed by lightning.

Zev was listening. What he was listening to was an unnatural silence within the room. All the city sounds had stopped, so suddenly it scared him.

He flicked the light switch beside the living room entry. Nothing happened.

A board creaked. "Dad? Lish?"

The ten year old boy stepped nervously into the quiet room. The light from the landing, coming through the doorway, threw unfamiliar shadows onto the walls and across the wooden floorboards.

Just Zev glanced around, right past the living room window, a figure scuttled past.

Zev briefly saw the shadow since it was illuminated by the streetlights. He spun around, he had to know. Whatever the horror of it, he had to know.

Lightning crackled and flashed again, and this time it distracted his attention from the window by shining on the clock that stood on the mantelpiece. He saw that the hands were at 12 o'clock.

Behind him, something snickered. Zev gulped, he looked for something that would serve as a weapon.

The storm wind rose to a pitch. Lightning made daylight in the room, and scared faces suddenly began to vanish into cupboards, drawers, or down the cracks between floorboards. As the thunder boomed and the wind shook the curtains, a blast of air blew the window open. Between the fluttering curtains a flock of crows entered.

Zev wrapped his arms around his face, and screamed, and screamed again. He was petrified that the flapping crows would brush across him. He thought he would die if it did.

Zev awakened to the sound of a clanging bell. Oh right, it was time for another shift in this dump.

"Wakey, Wakey!" the bell ringer taunted. The redhead kid had been reassigned coal shoveling duty weeks ago. Now there was a more pesky big kid doing it.

Either way, it was bizarre. Zev was never afraid of either crows or the dark before, it was more like what might be hiding in the dark just out of sight.

The nightmares about the Fangs hadn't entirely stopped, but Zev had to stamp it all down. He had other concerns such as doing the finishing touches on his little "game plan", especially making sure to keep it well away from fire and sparks. One wrong move, and it would prove fatal for him and the other captives, especially the new girl that was brought in months ago, Sarah.

It was truly a blessing that he'd discovered open walnut shells during kitchen duty, he knew they'd come in handy. Oh sure, it took Zev months to prepare and make more of his little idea but it'll all be worth it.

He just needed an opportunity.

"Ugh, my bad dream was better this." A boy grumbled.

"Get off my bed!" Another kid from the day shift snapped.

There was a thump, and someone yelping. Sounds the tired kid literally kicked out whoever had been sleeping in that bunk bed.

"Shift change, my bed now." The sleepy kid said.

"Night shift on your feet!" the Bell klanger called.

"We're going!" Zev retorted.

"Alright, alright!" the boy who'd complained about being awakened began walking into the line.

Zev looked over curiously at the new boy who'd spoken. Hmm, a fair-skinned probably twelve year old kid. The boy had strawberry blond hair and green-blue eyes.

Little by little the youngsters filed out of the bunk room and began walking into the mess hall.

All night, Janner had stood at the long table and cut metal. The hot air of the Factory floor sucked the liquid from every pore and left his tongue dry as a dead leaf Janner's hands ached. He had done his share of work with rakes and shovels and knew well the feeling of a blister forming beneath the skin. If his hands hadn't been covered in soot, he would've seen the red spots that would soon swell and fill with fluid. He was glad Tink had been spared this fate. Whenever his eyes drooped, he shook his head and pinched himself to keep awake. As he struggled to close the scissors on a sliver of stubborn metal, he thought of his sweet mother, her strong, easy way of giving him affection and comfort. While he ground the handle of a blade, he thought of Podo's booming voice, of Oskar's flop of hair. When he tossed the reworked pieces into a barrel, he thought of Leeli's curious calm and the magic in her songs and of the new melodies Elisheva had taught. And when he bent forks, he thought of Tink's insatiable appetite. Even as the memories of his family kept him company, they made his heart heavy and lonesome.

It had been a miserable night. At dawn, Mobrik appeared. Janner looked down at the little creature blankly, realizing that in a few short hours, he already looked and acted like the other exhausted children of the factory. He had to escape, and soon, but that previous night, all he wanted was a bed and something to eat. Janner, covered in sweat and soot, dropped the shears to the floor. He staggered past the machines to the dormitory stair, pushed through the double doors, past the crew of sleepy-eyed children on their way to their stations, and collapsed on his bunk without bothering to eat.

As Janner took the next turn through the maze of the factory, he glanced to his right and saw a set of hazel eyes staring curiously at him. However it was soon his turn to get his meal.

Zev watched as the new boy got his gruel and thanked the apathetic server. He also saw how that rude skunk of a bell klanger ring the cow bell in the boy's ear.

"Slurp it up, and try to keep it down!" the meaner kid taunted the new boy.

The bell rang and the children in the mess hall began to eat their gruel. Zev too, but he kept his eyes and ears open on the new kid.

He sort of reminded her of the new girl they brought in months ago. The new boy hesitantly spoke, "Hey, my name's...Esben. Esben Flavolgle, what's yours?"

One of the tired kids eating the gruel replied. "No names here, we're tools. I'm the basket mover."

"We're not tools here, just prisoners." The new boy argued.

The kid who'd replied tersely rolled his eyes, and finished his gruel, walking away. The new boy tasted the gruel, and almost gagged.

Zev opened his mouth to speak. "Yo newbie, what's shakin'?"

The new boy looked at him inquisitively.

Emboldened, Zev began. "Name's-"

"You!" One of the Maintenance Managers, a dusky boy with brown eyes and black hair. He was addressing the new boy. "Wipe that dribble off your chin and follow me."

The new boy got up. "Are we...?"

"I do the talking!"

And they walked off, the new boy glanced unsurely at a bewildered Zev.

Great. Just Zev was about to make a new friend, one of those big bullies decided to make the new kid work overtime.

Elsewhere in Dugtown, Elisheva cautiously peered out. This wasn't one of her most comfortable places to hide.

Somehow, she just had to find the boys and her family. She couldn't break her promise to Nia. For the past few days, Elisheva kept changing her hiding place as she searched. She slept for a few hours or so and took to searching in the early morning when she could, trying to find food too, and then hurrying to find a good hiding place before the curfew.

But at least the Fangs hadn't suspected she was one of the escapees from that scuffle in the Roundish Widow. She hoped.

Also, as dangerous as the Stranders were, it didn't seem like they'd made the extra effort to catch her. Weird, but Elisheva was glad. That would've made searching at lot more difficult.

Then one day, Elisheva had to duck out of sight. A Fang stood guard in front of one of the buildings across the street. It sneered at passersby, who lowered their heads and walked on. Another Fang banged on the door. "Open up!" it growled.

When no one answered, the Fang kicked the door from its hinges, and the two of them slithered inside. The Dugtowners passed by as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

From behind the corner, Elisheva could hear voices.

"What's the fuss about?" asked one man.

"Might be the Florid Sword. Heard he was about the other night."

"I heard that too," said a woman's voice. "But I also heard there's some family and some outlander girl the Fangs want to find."

Elisheva tensed up. They were talking about the group and herself! She leaned in closer, hoping to hear them say anything about her father and little brother.

"Aye. Migg Landers told me yesterday they were from Anniera or some such nonsense."

"Anniera? Pah!"

"I'm just repeatin' what he said."

"Say, where is old Migg? Ain't seen him today either."

"Me neither."

"Well, I hope they find the family and the outsider sooner than late. Things are bad enough around here without the Florid Sword up to his mischief."

"Uh-oh. They're coming back out," the woman said.

The two Fangs emerged and moved on to the next building, where the banging commenced again.

So Elisheva took a different path, tucking her hair in her hood.

The situation made her wonder, no speculate that the other may have had to find another hiding place, or…

''I understand you might need to escape, but I must find my family too.'' Elisheva whispered sadly.

A lonely desperate question welled up from within. She cast her gaze out at the expanse of Dugtown, she let the words spill out. "Slugger... Daddy, where are you?"

Back in the Fork Factory, the Maintenance Manager had explained things to Janner particularly about the Maintenance Manager's tasks and what to expect for the next for days or so. Because Janner met the quota, he was given glove privileges.

Janner stared at the boy with steady eyes, though he could feel one of them swelling shut with every throb. He chose to say nothing. It wouldn't be long before he found a way out of this place, and this tool could go on maintaining his machine for the rest of his life if he wanted. But right now, he had paring to do.

Another hot, miserable night passed on the factory floor. Another night of blasting heat, roaring flames, creaking wheels, and painful hands.

Whenever Janner attempted conversation with the children, they never answered or met his eyes. He wanted to grab their faces and force them to look at him, to acknowledge his presence, to act as if they were still human. Even the girl who brought the wheelbarrow wouldn't talk to him and instead hurried away.

He couldn't imagine spending another day in the factory. His hands hurt, his back was tired, he hadn't seen the sun in days, he missed his family desperately, and most of all, he could feel his mind shrinking. There was nothing to talk about, laugh about, or think about, except the machines. With the exception of that strange boy in the mess hall, every child who crossed his path frightened Janner more, because he knew that if he remained in the Fork Factory for long, he too would forget who he was. His eyes would glaze over, he would pass his days in mind- less repetition, never thinking, never dreaming, forgetting that a wide, bright world lay outside.

Whenever he glanced up, he caught sight of shapes swinging from chains, from rafter to rafter like bugs. The Maintenance Managers were everywhere, supervising the "tools" as they worked. Sometimes, an actual fork made it to the paring station, which reminded him that he hadn't eaten in hours, nor had he had anything to drink.

"...For eight straight shifts!"

Janner glanced up to see the girl who'd been pushing the wheelbarrow from earlier being scolded by Mobrik for her slow work performance.

"Overseer says it'll soon be the Black Carriage for you!" Mobrik snapped.

"Please, not the Black Carriage!" the girl pleaded. "I can work faster!"

"You'll finish this pile tonight without any more mess ups, or things will get worse quick." Mobrik warned and began to leave.

The girl continued trying to sharpen blades and began cry.

Janner watched on in concern before a Maintenance Manager shouted at him from the catwalk.

"Paring station too, eyes on your own work!"

So he spent the first several hours thinking of his family, but that proved too saddening. Then he thought about his T.H.A.G.S. and about the books he had recently read. He recalled the characters from the stories, the settings, the themes of the books. But his mind kept slowing to a thoughtless sludge, a world where all that mattered was the hiss of the machines and the cutting of metal.

Finally he'd had enough.

Janner picked up the heavy shears, and looked around for the Maintenance Managers. He saw one pacing a platform that hung from the ceiling. The boy stopped and leaned over to bark an order at some child on the other side of the nearest machines.

"One...two...three Managers to slip past." Janner mumbled. "I can do that."

Then there was the sound of falling metal objects. The girl who'd been reprimanded earlier by Mobrik had dropped some blades, now she was trying to pick them up.

"What is it now?!"

The double doors pushed open and a chagrined Mobrik shoved through. He wasn't wearing his own top hat, he scowled looking around and seemed to have figured out the cause. "I swear Trolls would be easier to train!" He said as he bounded across from table to table towards the girl who'd dropped the weapons.

"Hey!" Zev griped as he was knocked over from his spot. The small boy then got up and glowered at Mobrik.

The ridgerunner ignored him and instead, went right up to the poor girl and snarled at her. "Enough! I'm demoting you to the dark cellars! If you can't keep up as a coal tosser, it'll be the Black Carriage! And your carelessness with the Overseer's good has just cost you a..."

Janner noticed the double doors were wide open, he took a deep breath, looked around one last time, and ran for his life.

He was aware of some movement behind him, probably a Maintenance Manager calling for help, but as long as it stayed behind him, he didn't care. He darted between machines, noting with some satisfaction the looks of surprise on the children's faces as he passed. It was the nearest he had seen any of them come to looking alive.

He heard more yelling, from every direction now.

At last, he reached the stairs and risked a look behind him. Three boys and one girl, taller and older than Janner, pushed their way toward him, in no great hurry. Two more boys swung from the chains that hung from the ceiling.

Janner had no idea what he was doing. He knew that at the end of this long hallway was the big, empty room where the carriage waited. He knew the Overseer had a whip, and Mobrik said he wasn't afraid to use it. He knew the only certain exit from the building was through a heavy portcullis he couldn't open alone.

But he also knew he couldn't stand another day at the paring station without doing something. He wasn't a tool. He was the Throne Warden of Anniera, which meant that though they might capture him, he wouldn't go quietly.

As he ran up the stair, he heard something that startled him so badly he nearly fell.

"Janner!"

A girl walked out from behind some crates and tables. She was filthy, but her eyes were like pearls in the mud, large and luminescent. Sarah Cobbler looked deep into Janner's eyes from her spot. "Stop. You can't get out."

"Sarah?" Janner gasped, he couldn't believe his eyes.

The first of the tall boys arrived at the bottom of the stairs, shoved the girl aside, and ascended. Janner felt a knee in his back and tumbled down the stairs, head over heels, wondering dimly what it would sound like when his bones snapped. He crashed to the floor, dizzy with pain. Then someone punched Janner, and the stars went out.

From his spot, Zev had watched in delight the near successful escape of the new boy, and his joy turned to puzzled shock the moment Sarah spoke to him. Did they know each other?

And then Zev cringed in sympathy as the Maintenance Managers knocked out the new boy.

However, the ten year old had also made a decision. Once that boy was sent back to work, Zev was going to try and talk him without interruptions.

When Janner opened his eyes, he found he was in a box not much wider than his leg length and not much taller than a large storage cabinet. He felt himself on the verge of panic. Janner had always been afraid of tight places, even when it was just he and Podo wrestling. Sometimes when Podo held his arms down, this same panic erupted. One moment, Janner would be laughing, and the next he lost all control and thrashed as if in a bad dream. He closed his eyes again and forced himself to breathe slowly.

But he couldn't resist the urge to push on the ceiling, just to see if it would give. He pushed, found it solid and strong, and then he lost his mind. "No! Let me out! Let me out of here!"

Janner screamed and scratched at the walls and ceiling of the box, heedless of the pain in his hands or in his fingernails when they tore away. He was trapped in a dark so deep that light itself seemed never to have existed at all. He lost all sense of time. He kicked and scraped until his strength was spent and then lay there sobbing. He cried for ages, until sleep came at last, but he dreamed of a giant nothingness, an empty hole into which he tumbled and disappeared.
When he woke again, he panicked again. He lay panting in the blackness, talking to himself, praying aloud to the Maker, accusing, pleading.

And the Maker's answer was a hollow silence.

Hours and hours passed. Janner wept again, a different weeping than before. These tears were not from fear but from weariness and a vast loneliness. He wanted to feel the touch of Nia's hand on the back of his neck. He wanted to hear Leeli's voice, Tink's laughter. He wanted the musty smell of Podo's breath after he smoked his pipe. He wanted to see Peet the Sock Man's eyes, because the same stuff that made his father swam there. Elisheva's singing. These thoughts floated in his mind like dandelion seeds in a warm wind.

Janner saw himself in his mind's eye, sitting in the field beside the Igiby cottage. The long winter had passed. New, green shoots sighed up from the furrows in the garden. Bright leaves as soft as a baby's feet shone on the trees. Then, as kind as his mother's kiss, the sun broke through and poured light upon his skin.

Even amidst the terror of his first hours in the box, he had assumed this was a punishment, not a long execution. But now he wondered if they meant to starve him or if they had buried him alive. Maybe he wasn't in the factory at all but in some cemetery somewhere, deep in the ground.

He was too tired to cry anymore, too tired to panic. So he lay there and thought about Sarah Cobbler and her beautiful eyes.

But the Black Carriage took children to Fort Lamendron, then to the Castle Throg, like the nursery rhyme said. "At Castle Throg across the span... you'll weep at how your woes began...the night the Carriage found you."

Why was she here? How many of these children had been taken by the Carriage? How many of their parents assumed they were lost forever, when they were only a few miles away in Dugtown? If they knew their children were here, guarded only by the Overseer, surely they would stop at nothing to tear the walls down and bring them home.

Then he remembered the hags and beggars of Tilling Court. Many of the parents knew exactly where their children were, and it had driven them mad.

Janner wanted more than ever to be in the Ice Prairies, among brave men and women not content to live under the thumb of the Fangs. He ached to live in a world where the Fangs dared not enter. Maybe, when he was older, he would join Gammon's force and be a part of the resistance. He would wield his sword and fight alongside the Skreeans when the time came, and if they could drive the Fangs from Skree, then why not Anniera? And if they could drive them from the Shining Isle and restore his father's kingdom-well, his brother's kingdom-then why not attack Throg itself?

Why not put an end to Gnag and the trolls and the Fangs and every enemy that would beat a twelve-year-old boy and lock him in a coffin? The same ones tore apart a family from a land far away…

Janner laughed. It was easy to have daydreams about conquering the world for the good of Aerwiar; it was another thing to do it. He couldn't even make it from Glipwood to Dugtown without nearly dying Maker knows how many times. They had lost Peet, they had lost Nugget, they had been captured by Stranders, chased by Fangs, betrayed, beaten, lost.

And he had no idea what had become of Elisheva, Tink or the others. Janner's stomach curled. How long would they wait at the burrow? How long before they gave up on him and went on to the Ice Prairies? How could they possibly find him?

In the meantime, in the mess hall, Sarah Cobbler and Zev Bennet were given mess hall duty to wipe the tables with a rag and collect the bowls.

Zev had, frankly taken a chance to ask Sarah how she knew the new boy. The girl blushed and admitted that they'd known each other in Glipwood before she was brought to the Factory. She said that it felt like a lifetime ago.

Then they heard crying close by, Zev looked around and Sarah looked under the table to see the girl who'd reprimanded twice by Mobrik, crying her eyes out.

"Sharpener?" Sarah gently tried to hush the girl. "What's wrong?"

"What? Did those jerks beat you?!" Zev questioned.

The girl- dubbed Sharpener -shook her head. "They moved me, to the coal bins. Said if I'm not fast enough, they'll send me to the Black Carriage. And I couldn't even shovel half my pile today!"

Sarah and Zev went under the table to try and comfort the crying girl.

"Shh... they're just trying to scare you. Right?" Zev soothed.

"They won't send you away they won't." Sarah said.

Sharpener then looked to Sarah, "Can I sleep in the bunk by yours?"

"Of course, I'll ask the Ash sweeper to trade."

"It's okay, I got a..." Zev hesitated. Maybe he should wait until later tonight.

Back in the box, Janner was hugging his knees in tears. He then heard something. Music. Music being lyed on a whistleharp. He recognized the melody as 'the Green on Rysen Hill'.

In his mind's eye, Janner sensed a swirl of color and heat that spun like a water mill for a moment and then settled into an image. He saw his sister sitting by a campfire.

Leeli sat in a bright place, surrounded by snowy mountains, holding her whistleharp to her lips. Janner saw blurry figures in the background but couldn't be sure who they were. Then one of the figures limped past, unmistakably Podo wrapped in furs.

"Leeli?" Janner whispered.

In the image, Leeli blinked but didnt stop playing. The image swirled again and made him so dizzy that he staggered.

He didn't see Tink, but Elisheva. She was walking, looking around- somewhere in Dugtown! Tha means she's still looking for him and for Tink!

But where was Tink? The image settled again, this time he saw Tink, clearly. He looked afraid; his eyes were bruised and swollen, and clearly in tears.

Where is he? Janner thought. As if in answer, the image widened and he saw that his brother was in a cage. In the hazy edges of the image, Janner saw several figures, so dirty and muddy that they could only be Stranders. The nearest of them hit the cage. Janner couldn't hear the voice, but he knew even before the Strander in the image turned that it was Claxton Weaver.

"Tink? Oh no…"

The image swirled again and was gone as fast as it had come.

Janner blinked and shook his head, trying to make sense of what he had just seen. He felt a rush of emotion: exhilaration at the sight of his sister on the icy peak, relief that Elisheva was searching and fear for Tink in the cage.

But was this something happening now? Was this just a dream or another vision like the one Leeli had caused at the cliffs, when the sea dragons had spoken?

It didn't matter. All uncertainty was gone.

"Hold on, Kal," Janner said. "I'll get you out. You're still the King, and I'm still your Throne Warden. I'll find a way out, I'll find you!"

He was afraid of starving to death, but he doubted they would let him die, not after all the trouble the Overseer went through to find children for his factory.

As if in answer to this last thought, a sound came from outside the box-the first thing Janner had heard other than his own voice since he had found himself there. Footsteps approached. A clicking sound. Then the top of the box swung open and light stung his eyes.

"The Overseer would have a word with you, tool."

Unable to believe he was doing so, Janner sat up and entered the world again. Janner forced his stiff body out of the box. The room was small and dungeonlike, with stone walls and a squat ceiling. Chains hung from hooks on the wall, and bones lay in piles in the corners. Five coffins stood side by side, open and awaiting their next occupants.

One day there wouldn't be any more occupants, Janner thought. Gammon and his army would sack Dugtown and every other evil place in Skree, and when he did, Janner swore to find this place and tear it down forever. No more children in coffins or in factories or in Black Carriages. No more.

Janner looked at Mobrik with fire in his eyes. The ridgerunner took a step backward and eyed the door, clearly not used to children emerging from the coffin undefeated. Janner Wingfeather had gone in unconscious and had come out more awake than ever.

He considered seizing the ridgerunner and throwing him into the box. He knew he could if he wanted, but it didn't feel right just yet. He had to be careful when and how he took action. No more running blindly through the factory. He would wait, and watch, and plan.

Mobrik lead Janner back into the office where the Overseer sat at his desk filling out documents. Wehn the two walked in, he smirked, trying his best to look angry. "The Tool who tried to run, eh?"

Janner didn't care. He resolved to play dumb and pretend to be broken. He nodded his head and waited for the man to finish talking about "obeying" and how there was "no chance for escape" and that Janner was "just a tool now."

"Tools on the other hand, aren't supposed not to want anything especially not their freedom."

At this last, it was all Janner could do to keep quiet. It took an extrs amount of effort not to jump up on the desk and knock that ridiculous tophat off his head.

"Tool! Tool, are you deaf?" The Overseer snapped. "I said what was your old name? What was it?" He began looking through the ledger. "Esben Flavogle."

"Well, that's a beastly name with which to hobble a child. Your father must've thought you were a bit of a joke." sneered the Overseer then noticed the withering glare Janner gave him. "Hmm, spirit not utterly snuffed by your time in the box. Yes, you might just prove to be one of the useful ones... once you accept that you're never leaving here."

The Overseer warned him that next time he tried to escape, he would spend three days in the box, not just two.

Two days? Janner thought with a shudder. It had felt like a lifetime. He couldn't imagine a third day in the coffin. As Mobrik led him back across the empty room where the carriage sat, Janner caught a sweet smell. Against the wall near the door sat three baskets of apples, berries, and melons. Mobrik took a deep sniff and giggled. "Hurry up, tool," said Mobrik. "I've fruit to eat once you're back at work."

"Can't you eat some now?" Janner asked, hoping to distract the ridgerunner, but not yet sure why. He had to be careful from now on, but this might be the last time he would be this close to the exit. "You could take an apple with you. It's a long walk to the paring station and back."

Mobrik paused. "It is a long walk."

"And fruit tastes best when it's fresh. "The longer it sits, the worser it gets,' my mother used to say." Janner forced a laugh. Mobrik stared at the baskets with longing.

"Come on," the ridgerunner said, glancing at the Overseer's door. Their footsteps echoed as they crossed the room to the fruit baskets. Janner caught a glimpse of the portcullis, down the corridor behind the carriage. He wondered if the two children in charge of opening it stayed there or if they only manned it when the Overseer was out and expected to return.

Mobrik ran ahead of Janner to the baskets, the tails of his little coat flying out behind. He ran his little fingers over the fruit, caressing it and testing its firmness. Janner looked back at the Overseer's door. It was still closed.

"The longer it sits, the worser it gets! A true thing for a boy to utter!" Mobrik said, enraptured with the fruit.

Still not sure what he was doing, Janner lifted a head-sized melon from the basket.

Mobrik gasped. "Put that back! This is my fruit! Mine!"

"Sorry," Janner said. When he replaced the melon, it fell from the basket, hit the floor with a wet thunk, and rolled away. Mobrik shrieked and scrambled after it. When the little creature's back was turned, Janner slipped four apples into the pockets of his breeches, thinking as he did that Tink's quick hands could probably have snagged twice that many in half the time.

"Terrible idea!" Mobrik said, replacing the melon with great care. "I should never have let you near my fruit. Never. Come on." He popped a sugarberry into his mouth and shivered with delight. Then he pushed Janner toward the double doors that led to the factory, heedless of the way Janner's pockets bulged.

By the next mealtime, Zev saw his chance to talk to the new boy - who Sarah told him was Janner. Carefully Zev waited his turn with his bowl for gruel, keeping his ears perked up. He had to talk to him, maybe convince him of a better escape plan.

"You ran." The same tired boy who said everyone was just a tool stated.

"I did." Janner confirmed.

"You went to the box?"

"Yep."

Finally Zev got his bowl filled and walked to the table.

"Told you." the tired kid said.

"Told me what?"

"You thought you were special and could run away. The box is where everyone finally learns how much they don't matter anymore where they learn they're just tool, just like I told you." The tired kid sneered.

Before he could stop himself Zev felt himself blurting out. "Hey if you wanna give up and just dig yourself a grave, that's YOU problem, not ours!" he snapped at the tired kid. "I went to the box too, all it did was p-" he cut himself off. "Make me mad! You do what you think is right."

All the other children were stunned. They hadn't been this shocked by this small boy, not since... but that was a couple weeks ago.

The new boy, Janner, finally addressed Zev. "Rough night?"

"Try rough seasons, dude." Zev replied then looked around, "Tell you later tonight. Bunk room after the shift."

Hours after the Night shift, Janner had arranged with a little boy to be able to speak to Sarah Cobbler. Then he went to the bunk room with the others and found the spunky small boy with hazel eyes waiting just as he said.

Fortunately for them, the other children were too tired to protest and the bell klanger had gone to bother someone else for the moment.

"So lemme guess, the Fangs snagged you into the creepy carriage too?" Zev questioned the older boy.

Janner shook his head. "No, it was the ragged men and women... out in Tilling court who brought me to the Overseer."

The younger boy shuddered. "That's got the makings of some horror movie."

"Don't you mean a scary-?" Janner paused as the boy's words registered. He'd only heard one other person use that same term. But he had to be sure. "How'd you end up here?"

"The Fangs yanked me and my family right outta of our home in New York." Zev then became surly. "They stole the necklaces Mom gave us before she died. Then they hauled us to THIS dump, they took away my sister to who-knows-where, and then they took my Dad!"

Janner felt a spark of hope. The smaller boy's tale shared similarities to what Elisheva had told them. He cautiously asked Zev, "Your father wouldn't happen to be called Samuel Bennet, would he?"

Zev's eyes widened in surprise. "Yeah, that's him! How'd you know?"

A mix of relief and excitement washed over Janner's face. And he almost laughed. "Zev! You're Zev!"

The younger boy was bewildered. How did this older boy know his name? "Wowzers, dude! How you know my name, huh?"

"Zev, listen to me: I've traveled with your older sister, Elisheva." Janner placed his hands on the younger boy's shoulders to speak directly.

Immediately the boy's face lit up. "Elisheva?! You know my sister? Where is she?!"

"She's been searching for both you and your father. She's alive, and she's trying to rescue you."

Zev's delight and relief were palpable. "Yeah! We gotta to find her and my Dad!"

Janner nodded, determined to reunite the siblings with their family. "We will, Zev. But first, we need to find a way to escape from this place. I think I have an idea, but we have to be careful. We don't want the bad guys to overhear us."

To be continued…

Author's note: And... Zev has finally met Janner, the two got talking now all they need is to talk to Sarah Cobbler. But as for what Zev was working on, that's gonna be a surprise (unless you correctly guessed the ingredients in the first Arc). Next chapter or two will be a tad darker as it will also depict some somber scenes and eventually what Elisheva will through before she sees both her brother and friends again.