I woke to the gentle chime of my automatic alarm and blinked away the crust in my eyes. I sat back in my lumpy little bed and rubbed a hand over my face. Daegon and Do-hwan, my twin brothers, were sound asleep on the bunk they were quickly outgrowing.

Daegon seemed to have shot up like a bamboo plant over the summer, and he was now almost up to my nose. I had also grown several centimeters over the summer, so it was a feat that he’d changed so much. Do-hwan said he wasn’t bothered by this, but I could tell he was disappointed he had yet to hit his growth spurt.

Still, seeing Daegon’s toes hanging over the edge of his bed reminded me just how much we needed to move into something more suitable, with more space. I was running out of time to convince mother to move before the school year started next week.

There was a tinktink at the window and I looked over to see our rooster eyeballing me with impatience. His feathers ruffled, just like they always did before he crowed, and then he let out a long, annoying, ggo ggeh oh-oh!

It hadn’t been long, but it felt like a lifetime since I’d done a full non-rest days’ worth of chores around the house. First, I went to release and feed the chickens, lest the rooster stampede through the house, crowing at the top of his lungs and waking everyone. I grabbed the old water buckets and made my way down to the river in four trips. On the last trip, I splashed some of the cool, refreshing water over my face.

I hadn’t missed this.

School had been hard, as had apprenticing with Woong-ji, but it was work that I loved. It was work that got me closer to my dreams. This was busy work. Running back and forth from a stream to collect water for the house when the kingdom had perfectly good running water? Why would anyone want to live like this!

“I think some people like the simplicity of it,” Mae spoke up for the first time this morning.

“Or perhaps it’s because they’ve never known the convenience of the city,” I posed back.

Mae hummed. “Maybe. But you recall how you feel about the rude people who bump you on the street, or try to sell you something, or try to rob and kill you? That’s not out here—at least, not much.”

I nodded. “That’s true. A trade-off I will gladly make to give my family a better life. I can protect them from robberies.”

“But not rudeness. Consider it, Jiyong. Your siblings will attend Primary in the kingdom. You know how it’s been for you as an outer-city boy at Bastion. Shin-soo…”

I sighed. “I know. We’ll make do.”

I made my way back into town. The sun had just shone its first light over the horizon, and the sky colored with pretty pinks as it did. I didn’t see the horizon that often in the kingdom; the buildings were too tall. That was one thing I did miss…

But not forever. We could come back home once mother was cured and I was done with school. I could help Se-hun build his own house, and we could make additions to ours so there were enough rooms that each sibling could have their own. I could create a plumbing system, and expand the boundaries of the garden, and so much more.

Once mother was better.

I put the last bucket into the house reserve and Eun-bi waved me out to the garden. “You’re home,” she exclaimed in a hushed voice as she opened her arms for a hug.

I squeezed her tightly. “Woong-ji released me for the week.”

“That’s great. Come see this,” she urged, pulling my hand as she moved her way through the sprawling garden. They had already added on another ten meters at the back end where three tall trellis archways stood.

“What do you think?” She asked, giddy.

“It’s wonderful. What’s here?”

“Grapes over there, tomatoes right behind them, then pole beans and snap peas on the center one, and the last one has cucumber and squash.” She was positively glowing as she showed me from trellis to trellis. We picked a few rip cherry tomatoes to eat as we walked through the new space. Their flavor was sweeter than any other tomato I’d ever tasted.

My chest tightened with worry. Would there be enough space for Eun-bi to grow a garden in the kingdom? There were many group garden areas for the apartments I’d looked at, but would it be enough? Would a private window garden be enough? Eun-bi loved this like I loved Tuko, and taking her into the city would take her away from the garden.

“What’s wrong?” Eun-bi asked. I shook myself out of the thought as we stopped amid flowering bushes shedding their last blossoms for the summer.

“It’s nothing,” I said with a laugh.

She crossed her arms and cocked out her hip; just like mother. “You’re lying.”

I bobbed my head, weighing whether to be honest. Eun-bi was a strong, independent girl, and if I didn’t tell her what was going on, she’d find out her own way. Still, I could obscure the full—deadly—truth. “You can’t talk to the others, okay? You know I’ve always wanted to move us into the kingdom, but mother doesn’t want to go. She’s well now, but what if she gets sick again? She needs real help.”

Eun-bi nodded solemnly. “I know.”

I sighed. “Sorry, I don’t want to take you away from this. That’s what’s on my mind. You love this garden.”

She stepped closer, a kind smile gracing her round face. “I will always be growing something, wherever we go. My family is more important than a garden. Mother’s life is more important than cucumbers.”

I gasped, my eyes going wide for a split second and Eun-bi giggled. “You and mom were screaming last night, and our room is over the back patio. Suyi and I heard you fighting.”

“I’m sorry—

“Stop… we’re with you, Jiyong. We need to move to the kingdom.”

I rested my hand on her shoulder. “You’re too young to have to know this.”

“And you were too young to become the head of the household, but you did it. Every choice you’ve made has been to help us survive, and we know it. Mother knows it, too.”

I nodded as a lump grew in my throat.

“Oh, don’t cry, hyeong,” she used the familial ‘big brother’ as she pulled me into a hug.

I held her tight and laughed. “I’m not crying,” but tears were blurring my vision. I used en munje to swirl the droplets off my lashes and flick them out into the cucumbers. She would never know.

“Breakfast soon,” Minjee called from the back window and I pulled away from Eun-bi.

She rubbed a gentle thumb across my cheek. “You should learn to lie better.”

“Hana’s been teaching me,” I said as I moved toward the house.

“When are we going to meet her?” Eun-bi whined and threw a playful punch I dodged on instinct.

“Soon,” I said, dodging her question as well.

“Soon like tomorrow, right?” she asked as she turned back to her garden.

“Next week is better,” I said as I stepped to the patio door.

She groaned. “You’ll be in school next week, Jiyong! When are we meeting her?”

“Soon!” I said as I closed the back door, leaving Eun-bi to rant in peace among her creation. Mother shooed me away to the family room when I came in, so I took a moment to meditate.

Do-hwan pulled a pillow from the table up next to me and sat down. “Can we talk to Maeyoung?”

Blue light rippled on the air in front of me as Mae materialize on the table. “What can I do for you, Mr. Law?”

He sat up straight with his hands in his lap. “I’m curious about the nanites and how they create different spells from just one type of energy. Can you tell me more?”

Mae tapped her chin. “I don’t know everything—

Mother harrumphed in the kitchen as she stirred the pot of breakfast porridge. Mae stammered, then started again. “I don’t know everything about nanites, not yet at least. Soon, Jiyong will figure out how to fix the next piece of me and we can see what information is hiding inside it. I fear I’ve told you everything I know, as of yet.”

“I see. That’s alright,” he said as he started to rise.

She held her hand out to stop him. “I can tell you that there’s something very special going on inside your core. The crystal is a component I’m eager to analyze and learn more about. Through Jiyong, I’m learning more every day. The crystal seems to be some kind of coding mechanism. It takes the raw energy and encodes the nanites with specific types of instructions based on your intentions. It’s fascinating.”

Do-hwan smiled. “It is. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, Mr. Law.” Mae bowed, then disappeared into the air.

Do-hwan got up and left with Daegon to perform their morning chores. Mother gave me a sidelong glare as she poured steaming water into the teapot. She cleared her throat as if she were going to say something, but then returned to the porridge.

What I wouldn’t give for one of Li-Zigi’s intense training classes, or Shin-soo challenging me to a duel, even Hana berating me in the halls of Bastion Academy. Why did mother have to be like this?

She sighed loudly and clanked the wooden spoon against the side of the porridge pot. The gonging of her frustration rang through the air and set my nerves on edge. I took a deep breath through my nose and closed my eyes as I retreated to the solace of my core. I cycled zo for calm and reminded myself, this was temporary. Her anger and frustration would pass. She would see reason and—eventually—everything would be fine.

But another thought nagged at the deep recesses of my mind regarding the impermanence of her mood. If she didn’t change her mind, didn’t see reason, there would be far too few of these moments left anyway. I opened my eyes and moved into the kitchen, stepping right up to mother.

She looked at me, bewildered as she held the wooden spoon caked with glutenous rice. I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed. She patted my back softly and turned her head against my shoulder. I closed my eyes tight and imagined it was the last hug I’d ever give her, as it very well could be.

She finished up with the porridge and Minjee called everyone in to eat. I finished my breakfast in record time, though I had to wait for mother before getting up to wash my dish.

“In a hurry to get somewhere?” she asked as I jumped up from the table.

I nodded as my stomach turned with anxiety, as well as excitement. “Se-hun and I are going to Pi-Ki for supplies.”

Traveling to Pi-Ki was regular affair but it was typically done on foot with a wheelbarrow. Due to Se-hun’s sister, Aera, marrying up to a young man who’d forged his own business at just twenty-three, we were given access to one of the coolest commodities in outer-city.

Motorbikes.

Daegon’s eyes were bright with excitement. “Can I go with you?”

I looked to mother who nodded approval, then added, “At least ten kilograms of rice, fish if it’s cheap, and organ meats, too.”

Daegon stormed up the stairs like a madman, yelling, “Let me get my cape!”

I had grabbed a bit of coin from one of the stashes around the house and pulled my rucksack over one shoulder by the time Daegon emerged, a dirty crimson cloth tied at his neck that stretched down past his waist.

“Aiyah, Daegon, it’s filthy!” Mother exclaimed as she rounded on him.

He ran for the door. “No time to wash it now, gotta go!”

“You can take it off and leave it home, or lose it when you get back,” Mother warned as he tore off into the street with a zip of black zo.

He shouted back. “What? I didn’t hear you, mom. Come on, Jiyong, rice won’t buy itself!”

I put a hand on her shoulder as I stepped through the door. “We’ll wash it when we get back.”

“He looks like a dirty badgermouse,” she said with a scowl.

I chuckled. “And acts like one, too. It suits him.”

“He won’t be able to dress like that in the kingdom,” she remarked with indignance and my mood soured.

“Then I’ll buy him a nicer cape. I’m leaving now,” I called to the rest of the house and got distracted farewells from the other kids.

I gripped the strap of my bag, knuckles turning white, as I jogged after Daegon. Why did she always have some rude thing to say? How? Did she have a notebook full of comebacks to throw in my face?

“Let it go, Jiyong. Daegon is waiting for you,” Mae said, and I looked up to my little brother.

He was zipping from side to side, his zo infused muscles glowing midnight black. The smile on his face radiated joy, and he giggled as he said. “Bet you can’t catch me!”

I laughed. “You’re on, punk.”