The world demanded to be understood: that was Hatch Eyer's guiding philosophy. She'd dedicated her life - all twenty-seven years of it - to continually expanding her mind and her comprehension of what was around her. This had left her acutely aware that she was a viewing reality from the most limited perspective possible, while trapped within the Lagonian valley. They were all fish swimming in a bowl, back and forth, only able to see what was beyond through distortion and misinterpretation.

She scribbled thoughts into her notebook, which by now was dog-eared and damaged by repeatedly becoming damp and drying during their journey, while she sat on a stone bench on a terrace overlooking the city. Aviar was an impossible wonder that was becoming very gradually more possible the longer she stayed; it was a jigsaw puzzle with pieces scattered and hidden around the room, with a freshly discovered piece presenting itself every day. They'd allowed her full access to anything she wanted to see and anywhere she wanted to go, so her first expedition had been to the water reclamation reservoirs that hung below the mass of the city, extended down into the cloud layer on long, thick metal cables. Condensed water from the humidity was pumped back up to the city, where it fed into the waterways and parks and fountains. The ground far below was barren but the chunk of land that floated above was lush and green. Coupled with the uninterrupted sun, plants thrived and the city maintained a fresh, clear, bright atmosphere during the daylight hours, imbuing its inhabitants with an unusual optimism.

The terrace was on the edge of one of the parks, on a raised plateau that looked down onto markets and residential blocks. The city's design was mostly unfamiliar, with buildings arranged into a grid-like pattern to maximise the use of its limited space. Buildings were taller than any she'd seen in the valley, using verticality to compensate for the constraints on their horizontal capacity. On the outer edge of the floating island and atop additional, much smaller islands connected by bridges were fields of crops and some grazing animals: Aviar was as much a constrained ecosystem as Lagonia, though it felt precisely designed rather than sharing the valley's muddled, improvisational, don't-think-about-the-future approach to survival.

There were turbines mounted below the city, providing uplift, but they didn't begin to explain how it remained aloft, even taking into consideration the entirely different way that they used source. Their processing had gone down an entirely different route - more efficient, as necessitated by their far more limited reserves - and the way engines and propulsion worked in Aviar was still beyond Hatch's understanding. Factoring all that in, there was still a missing part of the equation: something she wasn't seeing, which would explain the numerous betrayals of physical laws.

Crunching of boots on gravel announced the approach of Stefan, who looked out past the balustrade to the view over the city.

"Strange to think that most of the people living down there will never get the chance to stand where we are now," he said, gesturing at the rows of tall residencies below. "And to think that I thought Lagonia had equality issues."

Hatch laughed as she put her notebook away. "At least the system here is based on some kind of logic. It has purpose. It's not just about wealth."

Stefan turned towards her, one eyebrow raised. "Really? That might not be how it got started, but as soon as you put some people up here-" he pointed behind her, at the shimmering towers clustered around the central spire "-and everyone else down there, it's only a matter of time."

"They don't really have money here, you know."

"I know," Stefan said, nodding. "That's why I can walk up to any market and get a free meal." He rubbed his fingers together. "The currency here is power, and hierarchy, and we seem to have arrived with a surprising amount of both."

"As a system, it's kept them going. And even these 'unverse' have a decent quality of life. It's not the worst social model I've encountered."

Stefan crossed his arms and harrumphed. "You know they send newborn babies and their mothers off the island, down to the caves? So they can absorb some of the source dust, and be tested?"

Hatch shrugged noncommittally. "I don't know enough about their society yet to judge. People seem happy."

"Well, don't get too comfortable. We can't say here forever."

Standing, she went to join him by the balustrade. Leaning on the cool, smooth stonework, she sighed. "The technology here would turn the tide of the war back home. In an instant."

"We're not at war, yet," Stefan pointed out. "More to the point, I don't know why they haven't already done that," he continued quietly. "They could have rolled over us anytime they liked."

"Maybe their setup is more precarious than it looks," Hatch said. She waved her arms at the city surrounding them. "This is incredible, but maybe it's taking everything they've got just to make it work?"

Stefan bent down and picked up a fallen tree cone from the ground. He began to peel off its outer leaves, revealing the seeds within. "Have you heard from Tranton?"

She shook her head. "He's not talking to anyone. Refuses to leave his rooms." Confronting Aera had not gone well for him, though she suspected it could have been far worse. Tranton's weapon had been pulled from his hand by an invisible force, then he'd found himself unable to move, paralysed where he stood. They had leapt to his defence, even while Aera continued to hold the limp Tarn in one arm, Galisai immediately putting herself between Tranton and his assailant, and Hatch and Stefan taking up positions either side. Akila and Eris hadn't moved a muscle, seemingly unconcerned.

"This is a misunderstanding," Aera had said, in that strange, drawn-out, lilting voice. "There is no need for concern or disagreement." She'd looked down at Tarn's face, with his eyes rolled back. "He will wake shortly, with no harm done."

"His years in the mines below the valley exposed him to levels of source dust unlike anything we have here," Akila had said, by way of explanation.

"I don't care," Kirya had interrupted. "Let them both go, now."

Tarn had jerked, then, foam forming at the edges of his mouth, reminding Hatch of something she'd seen before.

"What's wrong with him?" Galisai had demanded, her hand on her weapon.

"Nothing is wrong," Aera had intoned. "In fact, everything is as it should be. He will be perfect." With that, she had released him, and the boy slumped to the floor, where he was caught by Fenris Silt, as ever moving faster than his age would suggest plausible.

Tranton also regained control of his body, his muscles relaxing from their unnaturally taught, frozen positions. He'd stayed silent, his wild eyes and glaring scowl of betrayal being all he needed to say. Kirya had retrieved his weapon from where it lay, collapsed, on the floor, and had placed it back into Tranton's hand.

Aera had turned and walked back towards the dais from which she'd initially untangled herself, cables dragging behind her, saying not another word, acting for all the world as if she were alone in the room.

"I'm sorry for the misunderstanding," Akila said. "Our cultures are very different - there was bound to be some things on both sides that don't make sense."

Eris took a step toward Tranton. "I hope you know that Aera has nothing but respect for you, Tranton. This incident will be without consequence. Just a misunderstanding."

"Exactly," Akila said. "Now, if you'll step back into the elevator with me, we'll see about getting you all fed and reclothed."

The matter was swept away, as if it hadn't happened, save for the undercurrent of tension lingering for the rest of the day. Tarn had woken while they were descending through the spire, seemingly none the worse. They'd been shown around more of the Spire, from a cavernous library to dining halls and laboratories that made the artificer workshops in Treydolain look like a child's den.

"One thing that did bother me..." Hatch mused, leaning her head for a moment on Stefan's shoulder.

"There was only one thing?"

She stood straight and leaned her elbow on the balustrade, facing him. "When she put Tarn into that trance, or whatever it was. The symptoms seemed similar to the episode Kirya had when we were in Crowjun. During the attack."

"Her's lasted for days."

Hatch nodded. "I know. Maybe it's nothing. It reminded me of it, though. As if Tarn was experiencing the same thing."

"Can't be the same - as I understand it, the princess has suffered from those fits for most of her life, on and off."

Shrugging, Hatch let it drop. It was most likely an odd coincidence, or simply that unconscious people reacted in similar ways regardless of the cause.

"Are you going on the tour of the caves tomorrow?" Stefan asked.

"I wouldn't miss it," she said. "Their entire society is based on an individual's affinity to source. They're using it in ways we've never even thought of - it seems to be more of a drug for them than a simple fuel. I need to understand it."

"I'll come to see the caves," Stefan said, begrudgingly, "but I'm not expecting to see anything I like about how they're using them."

Hatch interlaced her fingers and rested her chin, propped up by her elbows. The sun was hot and uninterrupted, though the steady, gentle breeze took the edge off. Aera had spoken as if Tarn was something special, but neither Akila or Eris had volunteered further information. They'd promised that all would be explained when they visited the caves.

Days had passed. They had been fed, watered, given fresh clothing and adjacent rooms at the foot of the Spire in which to stay. The confrontation in Aera's chamber aside, it had been a comfortable experience, with each day full of wonders and revelations.

The caves would give her the last piece of the puzzle. After that, she was certain, it would all make sense.