"Life isn't fair," Laddy Paddy said in a slow drawl. "They were the first words I ever said to you, boy."

And he had uttered them a thousand times since.

Nio bit on the inside of his cheek, staring at the crack in the tile floor that started right under his toes and ran all the way to the brownstone stove. He had heard the tale so often, of his caretaker finding him at the muddy doorstep of this run-down orphanage a decade earlier, a newborn in a shoebox, wrapped in a soaking wet blanket and a few rags. Not a trace of the mother who but a fortnight prior had given birth to him.

"Was on my way to milk some grazers, but there you were, scrawny as a long-eared hopper." The caretaker gnawed audibly on his pipe, then took a long puff that filled the room with the familiar sweetly rotten smell of weed leaves. "Lassy Maeve and I took you in, fed you, bathed you, clothed you, taught you how to read and write. All we ask is that you be a good lad. By being a good lad, we mean you don't go and steal a steam cart. And certainly not use it to drive your brothers into the dung heap."

Nio flicked his gaze upwards. His wide, red eyes reflected in the cracked glass of Laddy Paddy's goggles. "Only one," he grumbled. "Damon."

"One... many..." Laddy Paddy gesticulated widely with his arms, which made his overly large bowler hat bob back and forth. "It doesn't matter. The point is—you could have killed him."

"I knew what I was doing."

"You knew what you were doing! Don't make me laugh." Smoke wafted into Nio's face as Laddy Paddy snorted a sigh.

The urge to cough struck Nio, but he didn't want to give the balding, more-salt-than-pepper-haired man the satisfaction of being uncomfortable.

An awkward pause followed as they both entered a competition to see who would scowl the longest.

"I did know what I was doing," Nio said finally. "Steam carts are easy to ride."

"That's all you have to say, huh?"

Nio lifted his shoulders. There was nothing left to say.

He had already explained everything. How it had all been Damon's fault to begin with. Why he thought the round, pock-faced bully shouldn't have thrown rocks at Finny's face or called him stunted, even if it was the truth. And how Nio had even warned Damon, not once or twice but three times over.

Yes, technically speaking, he had broken the house rules. He shouldn't have climbed into the steam cart nor pulled the lever to lift the old, sputtering machine into the air. And maybe he didn't have to hover right behind Damon's head or chase him across the farmstead. But despite the tears and screams of terror, neither Damon nor any of his house brothers had been in danger. Everything had been under control. Nobody got hurt.

It wasn't fair that he got punished for doing the right thing. In fact, if Laddy Paddy couldn't see that he had taught his house brother a good lesson in humility, then the caretaker was just as dumb as everyone else in this backward, soot-covered land. That was on them, not him.

"Silence it is," Laddy Paddy said with a hint of disappointment in his voice. "Go stand in the corner, boy. You can get out when you're ready to explain why you're wrong."

"I won't," Nio murmured. 

He should have known his caretaker would hear his remark.

"Oh, child, you have no clue how dangerous the world really is." Shaking his head, Laddy Paddy turned his back and shuffled away. "And, Holly Hobblers, each night I pray you won't have to."

Before sitting down in his favourite velvet chair by the stove, the caretaker grabbed his bowler hat and threw it on the rack by the kitchen door. The bronze coins hidden in the goggles rattled against the broken glass. 

A little extra for a rainy day. That was what he always said when one of the new boys asked why he kept two swaps in his goggles.

Nio had never given it much thought, but now, as he took his usual, cobwebbed spot in between the soot-stained windows, he realised the expression didn't make any sense. It might be a drizzle or a storm, but one could be certain it rained at least once per day in Vale.

So maybe the money could be used whenever it was needed. Teeth clenched and his hands firmly clasped behind his back, Nio rocked back and forth on his bare feet. He had been punished enough to know that he should stand still, but Laddy Paddy hadn't specified he had to. Nor had the man said he couldn't stare out the window.

So he wasn't breaking any rules.

Howls and whoops of delight sounded from the yard. The guzzler bladder he and his house brothers had been kicking around all afternoon lay abandoned in a drying puddle. They had found something better to play with; a glow hobbler was floating about their heads, its tiny tentacles almost within reach of their outstretched hands. The creature was too shrewd to get caught. Or, rather, too kind. One touch would lead to excruciating pain, two to paralysis, and three to eternal sleep.

Or so the adults claimed.

Secretly, Nio dreamt of catching a hobbler, so he could play or run around when he wanted to, to not rely on the strict rule of 'sundown means heads down and mouths shut.' Oh, how he wished to see the look on his caretakers' faces when he presented them with the gift of eternal light. Especially Lassy Maeve.

As if the mere thought summoned her, the front door swung open and in she walked. 

She groaned loudly, as if purposely wanting to announce her arrival. Her leather top and skirt of roughly spun cotton were covered in black smudges and grime. This was the fifth time in as many days that she had taken up a shift in the big factory on the other side of town. With four additional mouths to feed since the end of the harvest festival, more money was spent than the farm could earn.

She looked at him sternly, her expression deepened by her dark hair pulled back into a tight bun. "What did he do this time?" She pointed at Nio.

"Turned my back for less than a blink, and he was gone on my steam cart," Laddy Paddy explained from behind his newspaper. The headline of the page-long article read, 'Barley—the rise and fall of a monarchy.'

"Again?"

"Yes, MaeMae. Again."

"Put that old rust box behind lock and key, Paddy. Hasn't the news taught you enough? His kind are all like that—take everything they can get their grubby hands on. That's why their country fell apart, why they are still at war, and why I constantly need to break my back to pay the bills."

Nio glared at Lassy Maeve. Despite him growing up in Vale, she took every opportunity to remind people that he was different, that he was Kotayi and not Valian.

He didn't understand why she said that. He had never been to Kotai or met anyone from the southern continent. Actually, he had never seen anyone looking like him, not in the slightest. The Valians were tall, with long noses, brown or black hair, and freckled skin. He was small for his age, flat-faced with white hair and red eyes. His skin was so pale it was almost translucent, and whenever he spent too much time in the sun, he burnt faster than brownstone.

"I don't know what to do with him anymore, MaeMae," Laddy Paddy said. "Nine times out of ten, when there's trouble, he's involved."

"In a year's time, he can start in the factory with me." She halted by the voicebox. The brass machine was polished to a shine, which made it the only item in the house not coated with a layer of ash and dust. "If that won't knock the insubordination out of him, then nothing will."

She spun the turntable. 

A scratchy voice accompanied by a melodic tune erupted from the horn. "... palace of Oa is but an airship away. Now only two swaps instead of four."

Lassy Maeve gave the turntable another spin. A solemn reporter announced the ambassador of West-Kotai arriving in Porti Jano. It was a momentous occasion, but his caretaker didn't care. She switched to the next channel, which broadcasted nothing but static and noise.

Laddy Paddy clicked out his rusted pocket watch. "Turn to Sky Radio. The sprints are on their last round."

"Ah, the best part."

"Should be—it's the last race of the season. Three points between the last four, I read."

Maeve's fingers flicked over the turntable. She gave the volume knob a good pinch. Immediately, the walls reverberated with the sound of screaming engines.

"Here they come, over the hill," shouted an enthusiastic voice. "It's Serrano and Schoenmaker, side by side. But it's Serrano who outbreaks Schoenmaker. Oh, but it's Schoenmaker who has a better grip as they get out of the corner. Schoenmaker, who won in Oa, Zoutelande, and Luntalinna but suffered a lot of mechanical failures as well. Now, towards the last main straight. Serrano is not giving up. Two points separate the two from eternal glory. Who will be the winner of the twenty-fifth edition of the Speed Sprints? He's going for that lunch, ladies and gentlemen and everyone in between. It's Serrano who is finding that extra bit of power in his silver bullet. It's Serrano... Serrano passes last year's runner-up. And it looks like Schoenmaker will come second again. They cross the line, but it's clear. He has done it! Kotai-born Luis Serrano is the Speed King!"

Nio gasped. His body filled with glee. Luis Serrano, the best racer in the world, was from Kotai! Just like him. That explained why he loved fast machines. All Kotayi must be good at racing. He knew it—that was where he belonged.

Lassy Maeve switched off the voicebox. "Second time in a row that Zoutelander loses the title. It isn't fair—he's such a hard worker."

"Serrano got lucky with the car," Laddy Paddy agreed. "Schoenmaker should have won the Valian sprint. Last lap gearbox failure—a real bummer."

"It has nothing to do with talent anymore." She wagged her finger at Laddy Paddy, as though it was his fault. "I've been saying it for years. Give them all the same car, and then we'll see who's the best."

"Yes, MaeMae. You're right," Laddy Paddy mumbled. "How about some soup? Made a fresh batch for you and the boys. Extra thick with guzzler cheeks and fresh roots."

"Now we're talking, Paddy. I'll fetch the boys."

Nio stood stiff as a dried stick and held his breath as Lassy Maeve passed him. Outside, his house brothers were still chasing the glow hobbler. To his surprise, Damon and Finny were giggling like two best friends, as though nothing had happened.

His reflection in the dirty window scowled back at him. It didn't matter what he did. He was not like them and never would be. He was a troublemaker, a rule-breaker. The Kotayi. 

When he was older and too big for the house of Laddy Paddy and Lassy Maeve, only a boring job in the big brownstone factory was waiting for him. A shiver ran down his spine. No, not in a thousand years. He wanted more out of life than Vale could offer. He wanted to be rich and famous, a champion just like Luis Serrano.

Nio hummed the melodic tune from the voice box. "...palace of Oa is but an airship away. Now only two swaps instead of four," he sang in a whisper.

The metallic clanging noises coming from the kitchen meant Laddy Paddy was too busy to notice anything he would do. And Lassy Maeve had more eyes for the other boys than for him. The door to the front hall was ajar.

Outside, thick drops poured down from the heavens.

That was all the sign Nio needed. He sprinted towards the rack and snatched off Laddy Paddy's bowler's hat and goggles.

A little extra for a rainy day, and the start of a brand new life.