The EDEN Trials:
GUIDANCE
Chapter One
Sephie Greene had ample practice in blending in. Since she was little, she had honed the art of remaining unnoticed. It was more than just a matter of avoiding the attention of those around her, though. Sephie had perfected her ability to disappear.
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Deep in the crowded city of Umbra, this ability served her well. Sephie wove through the throngs of people with single-minded focus. Both her small stature and common clothing aided in her unassuming picture, allowing her to traverse the dim streets with ease.
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Buildings towered above like wardens guarding their charge, blocking out any trace of the sun that could make it past the smoke that billowed out of chimneys and ventilation shafts. Steam puffed out of random seams within the walls with a varied rhythm and caught the lamplight that danced through the haze. Shopfronts were nestled into the impassive walls, leaking the warmth and cheer that was absent in the dreary streets. A huge mechanical horse thundered past her, pulling a wagon full of sealed crates. The sound of metal striking the cobblestones like a hammer upon an anvil filled the street, offset by similar automatons.
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When Sephie allowed herself to become distracted by those around her, it was overwhelming. No matter where she looked, there’d be another body towering over her. The endless drone of people yelling, shouting, and simply speaking would become too much, and she would forget her goal. Ceaseless clanking would threaten to enrapture her concentration and disrupt her memory. The angered shouts and frightened screams of a fight would cause her to lose her nerve on streets that she’d known since she was a child. No, Sephie couldn’t be distracted. She was focused. She had a mission, and she was going to finish it.
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Her brother, Damien, had asked her to pick up supplies from his favorite parts store. He claimed that it was hard to communicate what he needed because of his deafness.
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Sephie could hardly believe that her rudimentary understanding of his engineering process was in any way better than what he could explain through paper and pencil, but because she’d already finished her homework, she was willing to collect his special hinge.
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The store sat between the Inner and Middle Arcs, toeing the line between the impoverished lower class and slightly better-off middle classes. Their friend Micah would have had an easier time reaching it, since he got out of school before they did, but he wouldn’t see Damien until after the inventory list for the project was due.
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The air was clearer as she approached the shop, and the sea of people began to thin out into a more manageable number. Rather than touching shoulders with those she passed, there was a respectable couple of feet between them.
The store filled an entire building, from floor to ceiling. The top section housed a workshop with tools that could be used by anyone for a small fee, and the bottom two floors functioned as the actual store. Huge windows characterized the front from the top to the bottom. Metal framework reinforced the glass and vents, separating the sections, and steam billowed out around the entrance before dissipating into the surrounding air. Delicate, metal flowers filled window boxes, which was one of Sephie’s favorite parts. It was huge, overwhelming in a way that was different from the world outside, and most importantly, where engineering students of all ages, such as Damien and herself, loved to congregate outside of school hours.​​​​​​​
Sephie was well acquainted with the inside and its people. It was easier to try to translate her brother’s odd signs and half-thought-out drawings when she knew the person she was explaining them to.
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Normally, she would spend some time working on a hypothetical aeronautical project after she acquired his special part. However, due to the late hour, she would have to save her personal experiments for another time.
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As she entered, a girl behind the checkout counter waved before ducking back to her steam-powered contraption. Sephie couldn’t tell what it was from the door, but based on the furrow in the girl’s brow and the small scowl, she figured it wasn’t working the way that it was supposed to. Sephie nodded in understanding, but the girl missed it. Their projects often felt haunted by little demon spirits that longed to cause misery and many sleepless nights.
The second she escaped the spotlight of the entrance, she continued on her mission, but eyes weighed heavily on her back. Too many eyes. Chatter filled her ears as she meandered through the shelves in an attempt to remain inconspicuous. Just retrieve the hinge. Just describe what Damien told you, they’ll give it to you, and you can leave. One foot in front of the other. Deep breaths.
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A young man, probably a year or two ahead of Sephie, sat behind a separate counter. He wore a workshop apron over his school uniform, which was missing its tie; rolled-up sleeves exposed tan skin, a couple shades lighter than hers. He had tied his hair back, but the front pieces had started to fall forward into his face, much like her own that had escaped its bun. His identification tag read, “Owen.” Sephie thought he looked nice enough, and his smile, while small, seemed genuine.
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“How can I help you today?” Owen inquired.
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Fastened to her belt was a small pouch that contained a pocket journal. She opened to a page toward the middle and held it out to showcase the part that Damien wanted.
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“Do you have any,” she peered closer at the drawing, “hinges with dimensions like this?”
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Owen scrutinized it for a couple seconds before pulling a huge logbook out from under the desk. He set it on top of what looked like technical drawings for the outside of a building and huffed in annoyance when a pencil clattered to the floor. He stared at it for a second and then shrugged his shoulders in dismissal. Unimportant, she mused quietly to herself, before mentally freezing. Focus. Sephie watched him flip to a specific section and run his finger down the page until it rested on a serial number. He tapped it a couple times in thought and met her eyes again.
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“Give me a couple minutes, and I’ll be right back with it for you,” he instructed and disappeared.
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Sephie blinked in surprise. She busied herself with studying the smaller drawers filled with screws, nuts, and bolts. A pair of screws tumbled over her fingers as she suppressed the urge to glance around. It took conscious effort to remember to breathe. After what felt like too many minutes later, Owen reappeared behind the desk. He held out the acquired hinge for her inspection. She shrugged to herself as she accepted it. It looked like the one in the picture, at least.
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Two silver coins later, Sephie found herself back outside. Far fewer people traveled the streets as evening approached. Night settled over the city, and small halos glowed around lamps in the hazy darkness. Despite the secretive shadows, Sephie’s shoulders dropped, and she sighed in relief. The freedom of the open streets was a balm to the overwhelm of the engineering store.
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Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong. Dong.
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The clock tower rang out imperiously through the city, filling the streets with its message: five hours to midnight. With autumn fast approaching, the sun set earlier in the evening. The lamps were all she had to light her way through the empty streets. Every now and then, someone else would walk past her, mimicking her closed-off posture. She followed the main road back into the Inner Arc, where even at this hour, the energy never calmed. It was like the people of the Inner Arc never truly slept. There was always someone awake, something going on. A group of shadowed figures glanced at Sephie suspiciously, and she pointedly avoided them. No need to involve herself in their likely-illegal-at-best and downright-dangerous-at-worst actions.
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Criminal activity in the Inner Arc had been gradually increasing, and she wasn’t surprised to see it now. The Guide, the leader of their country and world, had been making decisions and policies that were … unfavorable within the city. People preferred to voice their dissent in rather … unsavory methods. And while Sephie didn’t appreciate the policies either, she wasn’t willing to contend with the Guardians’ response to crime.
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Vendors continued to call out their prices from their colorful stalls, but Sephie didn’t stop to interact with them. The smell of spiced fish and sweet buns filtered through the air temptingly, and Sephie felt her stomach growl. But she was almost to her destination where food was waiting for her, so there wasn’t any real point in stopping now. Besides, generally speaking, prices had been increasing across the board in order to fund the Guide’s new projects.
A mechanical cat, missing an ear, jumped in front of Sephie and rubbed up to her leg. She smiled and leaned down to swipe a hand over its mismatched body. A robotic purr vibrated against her skin, and she laughed lightly.
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“Hi there, little one,” she whispered. “You’re awfully cute.”
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Mrrp?
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The cat butted its head against her hand, demanding more pets.
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“I’m sorry I can’t stay longer, buddy, but I’ve got to get home,” she confessed as she pulled a small handful of screws out from her pouch. She held it out to the cat, and its purrs increased at the offering. It took them from her softly, without catching her hands with its sharp teeth, then trotted away.
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Sephie smiled at it as it bounced quietly, unlike the huge horses that shared the streets, despite the materials it was made of. She continued on her path and pulled her scarf a little tighter around her neck and shoulders. With the autumn season descending, it was getting cooler during the night, despite the multitude of heat sources literally built into the city. Pretty soon, she’d have to start trading her half-sleeved undershirts for longer, thicker sleeves.
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Her boots quietly thunked as she walked, and she internalized their rhythm. She counted each step she took until she reached thirty, where she restarted the count. After two sets, she ducked into an alley, staying close to the protection that the shadows provided. Back doors to various buildings lined the walls, and unlike the warm entrances, they remained dark and uninviting. Four doors down, she reached the one she was searching for. It looked like all the others, save for a sprig of dried rosemary tacked to the wooden surface.
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Her scarf hid a key that she used to unlock the door. It was warmer inside than in the dark alley, so she gratefully entered. With a click, the door locked once again. Immediately in front of her, a hallway led to a door covered by a curtain. On her left, a room filled with storage shelves greeted her. Bottles and flasks, both empty and filled, were located on most of them. Vines trailed around one that held a plethora of drying herbs, while more grew beneath. Along one of the walls, a sink and a long counter sat, clean and organized. A bookshelf finished the space. It was a maze that Sephie didn’t pretend to understand.
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On the right, another room mirrored the first in layout, but the furniture was sparse in comparison. Colorful rugs blanketed the floor and continued onto the walls in the form of tapestries and wall hangings. They depicted various stories and pictures, most of fantastical scenes, while two portrayed the differing skylines of the major cities: Umbra (hers, the mechanical and shadowy original) and Aurora (the great city known for its open architecture, almost endless sunlight, and harmony between plants and people). Chairs and a table sat in the center of the room, complete with light quilts resting on their backs. An open book lay unattended on the table, presumably an inventory log based on the numbers within it, next to a pen and dried ink stains.
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Sephie ignored both rooms, wandered to the curtain-blocked doorway, and poked her head through. A plump man with dark brown skin sat behind a counter, carefully pouring an unknown liquid into a set of bottles like the ones from the storage room. Beyond him, the rest of the Apothecary shop looked out over the street. Shelves filled the room, though more delicate than the storage ones. Vines and plants twisted around these, too, framing the many bottles of medicines, oils, tonics, and lotions. Small herb boxes decorated the bottom shelves and the back wall. The man looked up as she entered and smiled.
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“Hello, Sephie,” he intoned.
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Sephie smiled back and waved in greeting. She looked around the cozy store for any customers, and after finding none, fully entered the counter alcove. Egg, or Greggory Goldwise, the Inner Arc’s resident Apothecary, was a very important man in this part of the city, and the people of the Inner Arc treasured him.
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Pleasant and cheerful to all, regardless of their status or social standing, he got the name “Egg” after a joke that regarding a goose and a golden egg—and presumably, him—fell extremely flat. But besides that simple story, there was no other explanation. He was simply Egg.
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Sephie studied the shimmering liquid he was pouring into jars. She raised her eyebrows questioningly and pointed at it before meeting his eyes.
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“It’s a cough syrup,” he replied. “People are getting sick as it gets cooler out. Figured it was time to increase the inventory on this one.”
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She nodded in understanding. After taking a couple steps back, she wiggled her first two fingers in a downward motion accompanied by raised eyebrows, the sign for downstairs with a question on the end.
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“Dahlia has been waiting for you since school ended,” he offered.
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D-A-H-L-I-A OK? She finger spelled to him.
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Egg hummed noncommittally.
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Sephie narrowed her eyes.
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He pointedly didn’t look up from the cough syrup.
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“Thank you,” she sighed as she backed into the hallway.
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“Be careful, Sephie,” he called out to her back.
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Back in the sitting room, she stopped in front of the wall closest to the actual shop, pulled back the tapestry, and unlatched the panel of wood behind it. Each wall hanging disguised one of these storage areas, but this one was special. She grabbed the small lamp that hung next to the wall and stepped into the secret nook. The alcoves weren’t lit, so as she closed the panel it would have been completely dark if not for the lamp. Glassware and bowls filled shelves against the wall. It only possessed enough space for three people in addition to her, and even then, it would be a snug fit.
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However, she only had eyes for one shelf. Like the others, it stretched floor to ceiling. When she shifted the jar on the top right, though, a small clink signaled a falling mechanism. Moments later, the shelf itself popped forward a couple inches and swung open with a tired creak, exposing a gloomy staircase. Sephie grinned lightly to herself and pulled the shelf shut behind her as she landed on the first step. The secret door settled with a groan as magnetic instruments reset the locking mechanism. The only way to the staircase was through the knowledge of the secret bottle that triggered the initial magnetic sequence.
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She’d know. After all, Sephie had been one of the student engineers who had created the concept for this building.
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She placed the lamp onto a wall sconce at the top of the staircase and then followed it down. It spiraled in order to take up the least amount of space and opened into a sitting room with the same layout as the one above. In the center, a couple of small sofas and armchairs formed a seating area around a short table. Open alcoves stretched off three walls, excluding the one nearest the stairwell. The first had a mini prep station similar to the Apothecary above, but much emptier. Its most notable features included the stove and kettle, along with the ornate tea box next to it.
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The next niche housed two workbenches, one covered in unfinished projects and messy technical drawings. Spare parts littered the work surface while screwdrivers and wrenches laid haphazardly. A box full of scrap metal and other materials sat on the ground next to an organizational cart. A blowtorch was mounted in between them with sheets of glass stored protectively behind it. Its sister bench was the exact opposite, completely organized and clean. Just a pair of scissors and a spool of thread sat out of place; otherwise, the only evidence that someone worked there at all were the well-loved marks in the wood, a story told through the scars of many a project.
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Books, from small journals to large tomes and textbooks, lined the final alcove. A small desk was nestled into the shelves with ink, quills, and pens. An open textbook laid next to a journal with a pen marking a page, as if someone had been taking notes before something else caught their attention. The chair was pushed in neatly, though, which made Sephie doubt that the owner was down there with her.
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Like the other workbenches, this one was also a shared space, and her easel and a stack of canvases resided out of the way of the desk. A smaller shelf held a case of pencils, some paints, brushes, and a couple of clean but stained rags. Sketchbooks and extra paper sat on top.
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A new, unfamiliar book lay on the stack. Sephie smiled at it, recognizing Micah’s handiwork. He must have left it for her before he left in the afternoon.
But there was something that demanded much more attention than anything else in the small space.
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Or rather, someone.
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Dahlia McKay, a tall, opinionated force, paced in front of her with a look of absolute fury painted on her face. Even from her vantage point by the stairs, Sephie could feel the seething energy that coiled Dahlia’s posture tight and furrowed her brow. Her hands were busy polishing a set of complicated goggles, careful despite the obvious anger. Her face, however, twisted while her eyes blazed. Her dark skin glowed in the low light, and the light sheen of sweat let Sephie know that whatever was going on had been irking her for a while.​
Sephie watched the pacing for a couple of seconds, but when it was clear that Dahlia had either (a) not noticed her, or (b) wasn’t going to acknowledge her presence, she asked, “Are you okay?”
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Dahlia paused to look at her for half a second before she ground out, “No.”
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Sephie cautiously made her way to a sofa and curled up on it where she could continue to watch Dahlia’s palpable angst. “Did something happen?”
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“No. Yes. I don’t know! I want to run away from home!”
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Sephie’s eyes widened as she faltered on her next sentence, “That’s a little … blunt? Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
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“Is there anything I can do?”
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“No! No, there isn’t anything you can do because they’re going to send us away!” Dahlia shouted as she whirled toward Sephie’s seat. Her dress flared with the force of her emotion, and Sephie shrank away in surprise.
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“Send us away? Who’s going to send us away? Are you talking about the field study?” Sephie asked, sitting a little straighter.
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“The Guardians!” Dahlia exploded, throwing her hands up in frustration. “And it’s not even a field study, apparently! I was in their labs, right, because Dr. Kel wants me to work in there as Micah’s and my initiation gets closer, right?”
Sephie nodded wordlessly in confirmation while Dahlia continued with barely a pause. “And I was like, ‘Oh, why don’t I go say hi while I’m up here? Go see him since he loves us,’ and all that. And you know what I find out? You know what’s happening as I get close to his office?” She took a breath, but the continued pause made it clear that a guess was expected.
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“Uh … He was there …?” Sephie tried.
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“He was more than just there,” Dahlia told her. “He was there with three other Guardians. And you want to know what they were talking about?”
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Sephie frowned at her. “You eavesdropped on their meeting? That’s rude, don’t you think? Especially since we’re not supposed to know anything about the study beforehand—”
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“No, I didn’t eavesdrop.” Dahlia interrupted her hotly. “I merely happened to hear what they were discussing, because it wasn’t like they were being particularly discreet about it either. And it’s not a field study!”
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“I am somehow wholly doubtful that’s actually what happened, but do continue.”
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“Anyway, they were in there discussing all their secret plans, and I’m entirely convinced that they’re hiding more things than just this from us now. What if they—”
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“Focus.”
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“Right! So then, I’m watching and hear that Dr. Kel plans to send us away. Up north to one of the smaller villages; and it’s not actually because of a field study for Mountain Ag., it’s because apparently Umbra isn’t safe anymore—”
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“Wait,” Sephie interrupted. “He thinks Umbra isn’t safe?”
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“Yes, Angel, please keep up,” Dahlia admonished and placed her hands on her hips. “I don’t know when—I didn’t stick around long enough for that—or why for that matter. But can you believe any of that? Why would they even send us away? What did we even do?”
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“I’m sure there’s been a misunderstanding,” Sephie replied calmly. “I’m sure that they aren’t actually sending us away because it isn’t safe. You probably didn’t get the entire story, and there has to be an explanation. Like, maybe it’s part of the—”
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Dahlia glared at her from over the furniture. “Just wait until Micah hears about it. He’ll agree with me that it’s preposterous. And foolish. Downright stupid,” she declared venomously.
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Sephie doubted that Micah would have much to say regarding the entire situation since he tended to trust Dr. Kel with everything.
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Dr. Kelvin, a brilliant engineer and teacher, was the current head of the Future Guardians program. The Guardians, a group of incredibly intelligent scientists, engineers, and agents tasked to protect the people, the culture, and the educational system of Arakrona from being corrupted or endangered, had established the Engineering Academy centuries ago to train children in the fundamentals of innovation. Later, they created other Academies with similar goals but for different studies, like agriculture and psychology.
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Each year, a group of students from the eldest grades would be chosen to participate in training that would prepare them to become full-fledged members of the Guardians. They were also the only non-Guardians with knowledge of the lesser-known responsibility of the agency: In addition to the protection that they already provided, the Guardians also prevented society from losing itself with misguided advancement. “Too much progression leads to ruin,” Dr. Kel would say. Change could be dangerous.
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As the head of the program, Dr. Kelvin—or as he preferred, Dr. Kel—was their most trusted mentor, and he handled all of the behind-the-scenes logistics for the program. Sephie and Damien had known him since they were little, and Micah and Dahlia had since their ninth year in the Academies. Zahar and Rosalie, the youngest, completed their set of six Guardians in training. Despite being the most recent additions, even they had placed their trust in their mentor, especially since he made a point to tell them everything. It just didn’t seem logical for him to voluntarily withhold information regarding their apparent well-being.
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“We’ll all be here tomorrow night, right?” Sephie questioned. “We can talk to the others about what you heard then.”
“Yeah. I just don’t know. I don’t understand why Dr. Kel would hide something concerning our safety of all things ...”
“It’s okay,” Sephie reminded her. “It’ll be okay. And even if it does happen, we’ll still have each other. That’s something. It’d be worse if we were separated.”
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“You’re right. It’ll be okay.”
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As if to close the conversation, a small clock on Micah’s desk in the alcove with the books rang out four chimes. Four hours to midnight, then.
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“You should go home. It’s getting late,” Sephie mumbled around a stubborn yawn.
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“Are you going to stay here tonight?” Dahlia asked.
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“I think so. Damien said he was going to, and I need to give him the parts he wanted.”
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“That makes sense. Stay safe,” Dahlia instructed and came over to wrap Sephie up in a strong hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow. We’re … We’re going to be okay.”
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Sephie nodded and hugged back. As Dahlia backed up, Sephie signed, I love you, from her mouth and smiled at her. Be careful, followed it sternly.
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Dahlia headed up the stairs quickly, leaving Sephie alone in the Safe House seating area. Next to the stairwell was another door that led to a small bunk room for whenever they needed to stay the night. The Safe House had been installed below Egg’s Apothecary shortly after Dahlia was accepted into the Guardians’ program. It was meant to be a secure location that could allow the students to progress in their training without the risk of being found out. While the Guardians’ presence was well known, few people knew who they were outside of the uniform. The children were one of the only exceptions.
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Entering the bunkroom, Sephie lowered her belt next to her bed and her corset followed quickly. She finished it with her overdress, and then unlaced her boots. She heard the clock chime on the half hour and pulled back the quilt. Mattress springs creaked as she sat on the edge of the lower bunk and finger-combed her hair until it was tangle free. Low, soothing tones filled the silence as she hummed while doing her night braid. The inky tresses flowed over her fingers like water as she finished the task, ending with the pale silver ends.
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No matter what position she found herself in, the sheets were too constricting, and the pillow was just too warm to be comfortable. The air felt oppressive even though all of the ventilation shafts were clear and working. She could hear the ticking of the clock in the other room, and it did nothing to soothe the anxiety plaguing her rest.
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Creeaaak …
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The door opened, and a quiet figure slipped in. Sephie looked up to see Damien next to her bunk. He signed a soft hello with one hand while setting down his bag with the other. She smiled at him through the dark.
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Sephie signed, How are you? and peered through the gloom for his response.
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One hand swept down from his mouth—good. Sephie rooted around in her belt pouch and pulled out the wrapped hinge. She held it out to him, and he inspected it before smiling with a thumbs-up. Right, he signed, and she sighed out of relief. He signed a quick good night and clambered up into the top bunk above her. The sound of his breathing calmed the turmoil that was keeping her up. It was easier now that he was with her, and sleep came fast. She’d never been particularly good at falling asleep without him nearby.
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