Blight

Chapter 1: Squire

Witchcraft.

The ancient word hangs in my mind as I kneel in the dirt. My fingers, chalky with dust, working slowly. Carefully. I can't afford another mistake. Already the rocky ground is littered with broken bits of metal, cracked cogs and de-twined springs. Here and there, peppering the mess, shiny bits of white glass reflect the low green glow from outside.

That, I broke on purpose.

Even in the beginning there were only two of the fragile globes. The most important pieces. But I had to know how they worked, and the glass cover hid the details inside. I'd had to sacrifice one to understand the other.

A pointless sacrifice.

I lift  the uncovered innards to study them again through my goggles. The tiny bits are as mysterious to me now as when I found them three days ago.

The metallic bottom is curved around and around like the hand drills we use in the quarry, only much shorter and fatter. Above, surrounded by a jagged lip of the broken glass that had covered them, two tiny metal wires stand up side-by-side, connected at the bottom by a small cube of more clear glass. Another wire runs along the top, connected back to the glass cube by even thinner, springy wires.

I've studied it for days, at every angle, but it still makes no sense. Both globes worked perfectly when I first saw them glowing in the darkness of Cavern D, but they went dead not long after that. I haven't been able to make them glow since.

A tiny sound breaks the silence. A crunch. Feet on gravel.

I freeze.

Crunch... crunch... crunch...

The footsteps move closer, coming at me from behind.

Crunch... crunch... crunch...

I reach down to my side. My fingers find a smooth handle of stone.

Crunch... crunch.

The footsteps stop right behind me.

I kick one leg out and spin fast on my heel, my handmade rock-thrower aimed at the intruder's head.

"Don't shoot!"

I've aimed too high.

"Derrik!" I lower my weapon with a frustrated sigh. "What are you doing here?"

My little brother is ten cycles old, barely out of defecation rags. But here he stands in my secret spot, somehow finding it when I have protected it from everyone I can think of: our parents, the Knights... everyone. I can't help but feel a little impressed. 

And a little worried.

"I just wanna help," Derrik says, squatting down to look at my work. "What's that?"

I decide he's just smart like I am. It's way better than the alternative, that my spot isn't as secret as I thought. And anyway, the idea of having someone to show off to is more appealing than I want to admit.

"I think I almost have it," I say, holding up a small metal disk. "The answer was in this thing all along. It's called a battery." I flip through the yellowed pages of my most prized possession and point at the faded picture. "See? It looks a little different, but they both have the same markings -- a cross and a line. It has some kind of power --"

"Witchcraft," Derrik whispers, his already big blue eyes widening.

"Maybe," I say with a grin, "but it's going to save us all."

"From what?" he asks.

So innocent.

I shake off the images his question raises in my mind. Memories too dark to relay to the little one by my side. I know Derrik can't understand, and I'm glad. I never want him to understand.

I look back at the things in my hands. "Just trust your big sister. I'll fix everything."

Thankfully he doesn't ask again, just nods and leans down closer to watch.

I lick my lips nervously, easing the battery into the cradle I've made for it from the Knight's scrap parts, tucking it safely at the bottom. Then I sink the unbroken bulb down into the contraption so that the coiled end touches the battery.

My heart jumps as the bulb gives out a quiet buzz, like the hum of a winged buggar. It flashes bright white.

It flickers.

Then it dies.

Before I have a chance to voice my disappointment, the small cavern where we kneel vibrates to the long, low toll of a bell.

Curfew. And tomorrow is Atonement. I won't have another chance at lighting up our darkness for another whole day.