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“I think this angle is wrong.” I point at the downward pipe.
“How so?” Ellister sidles up to me, just a couple feet away.
I don’t know if he realizes how close he is, but my body reacts. The hairs on my arm raise, like they’re reaching for him.
After slipping on the oven mitt for handling the hot metal, I lift the pipe until it’s horizontal. Holding it above my head, I manipulate it so it’s level with an old shelf on the wall.
“We should elevate the pitcher, and we’ll need an extra part here on the end. Something with a ninety-degree angle that we can point down. That way, it’ll give the steam a place to collect.” I draw an invisible upside-down L-shape where the corner will be.
Without questioning me, Ellister starts sorting through a pile of excess parts he picked up during his travels. “Like this?”
The piece in his hand is exactly what I was referring to.
“Yes,” I respond excitedly. “Where did you get all this?”
Guiltily scratching his jaw, he mumbles, “The Night Realm palace’s indoor plumbing system.”
“You did not!” I practically shout at him, but he just nods and shrugs.
“Shit, Ellister.” That’s probably where my dinner came from. The freaking palace. “You’ve been risking yourself far too much lately. What if you get arrested?”
Aside from dying, my biggest fear is Ellister getting caught. He won’t be any good to either of us if he’s in jail.
“Yes, going to the palace is dangerous,” he agrees before stating his defense, “but I won’t have to go back. I got everything I needed.”
“And all other places you’re going? Houses and such?”
“The cities don’t have law enforcement. The townspeople are pretty much left to govern themselves and handle their own minor disputes. Stealing isn’t a serious offense. The only time someone would be arrested is if they commit a high crime, like murder. In that case, they’d be apprehended by a mob and brought to the palace for a trial and punishment.”
“A mob? Like, with literal pitchforks?”
Ellister tips his head thoughtfully from side to side. “I suppose they could use any number of tools. Many common folks don’t have fancy weaponry.” In the way he always does when he wants to avoid a conversation, he directs the topic to the task at hand. “Now, how about you show me what to do with this thing?”
After following my instructions with the new piece, Ellister rests the pipe on the rim of the pitcher in its new place on the shelf. The steam isn’t coming out anymore, which is what I’d hoped for. Because of the vertical pipe, the steam is being forced to rise inside the metal tubing.
A second later, I hear hissing from inside the pipe. A new sound. Getting closer, I put my ear next to it to listen.
“Careful. Don’t burn yourself.” Without thinking, Ellister grabs my arm to pull me away.
As soon as he touches me, we both freeze from the jolt of sudden full-body pleasure.
The promising sizzle I’d heard is temporarily forgotten as I soak up the relief Ellister’s touch gives me. The headache that had been plaguing me disappears, and the bond flares with satisfaction.
We both sigh.
Half-heartedly, Ellister tries to let me go, but now that he’s made contact, it’s difficult to separate. Laying my hand over his, I keep his grip on my forearm in place.
“Hannah—”
“Stop,” I whisper the plea. “Just stop for a second, okay?”
Giving in to my request, he rubs his thumb along the inside of my wrist and—smartly—tries bribery to get me back into bed. “If I hold your hand all the way to the house, will you lie down? The less you’re in here the better. It’s not just the bad air that could affect you. Glow production is dangerous. The substance is combustible.”
“Combustible? You mean to tell me this thing could be a bomb?”
“We’re probably fine,” Ellister backtracks, not wanting to feed my fear. “An explosion only happens if Glow comes into contact with stardust.”
“Stardust?”
