Chapter 1

BOOK ONE: SAIL

When Earth still existed, iron gates often surrounded cemeteries to keep the ghosts contained. Some people nailed iron horseshoes to their front doors to repel evil spirits. Me? I consumed iron like candy. Its tangy, sweet flavor, the safety it promised - it hooked me. Doctors called it pica; I called it living without fear.

But iron couldn't protect me on the day I became a fugitive.

A soft shudder rolled under my feet, a welcome sensation even though it chased tingles up and down my legs. Bright lights tracked across the floor-to-ceiling windows, shimmering through the snowflakes that clung to the glass. Deep blue ink had poured over the sky hours before, a reminder that I'd been sitting here all day. I stretched my legs out in front of the red circular benches that dotted the Waiting Room as feeling pricked its way back into my limbs.

"Now docking the Nebulous passenger cruiser and the..." a soothing robotic voice said over the loudspeaker, but a nearby wailing child drowned her out.

The Sky Dock, nicknamed the Waiting Room by me for obvious reasons, was the tallest building in the city and shaped like one of those ancient staples on elongated legs. Passing ships that were on the smaller side could dock under our feet for a short length of time to trade passengers or drop off and pick up cargo.

Excited chatter erupted, which thankfully smothered the Christmas carols I'd heard on repeat for the last however long I'd been here. People stood and gathered their belongings. I had only me. I craned my neck over the crowd of travelers, but the icy blonde guard at the other end of the long room hadn't made a move to open the doors. But once she did, I'd see Pop and my sister, Ellison, again after ninety-three days.

Much as I wanted to stand and position myself to throw my arms around them, I couldn't. The baby sitting on her mom's lap next to me had her chubby fingers wound around the chains twisted through my long hair. She blinked up at me with a pair of dazzling blue eyes while she stuck a fistful of iron into her mouth with a big grin. I smiled at both our similar tastes and the thought of seeing my family again.

Her mom, who'd been distracted by a whiny toddler, started to rise, and when she noticed who her baby was attached to, she jerked back. Her gaze snagged on every piece of metal I wore: the long, delicate chains spun through my hair that hung past my ass, the tight leather corset with metal spikes running down the sides (not to mention the ladies spilling out the top), the belt with six inch thorns, my iron-toed boots. Yes, I wore pants, but they didn't count because they were one of the few things I owned not made of iron. I didn't mean for my clothes to growl 'I will eat your children,' but judging from the look on the woman's face, I might as well have gnawed off an ear already.

"Excuse me," she muttered and forced her baby's hand free. The little girl reached over her mom's shoulder with her face screwed up in a wail while her mom ran people over in her haste to get away.

My chains stuck to my arm with a trail of baby saliva. I shook them into place again, and every looped strand clinked together in a metallic whisper. This kind of garb wasn't exactly atypical on the planet Mayvel, but to the locals who preferred to blend in with their embroidered earth-colored tunics and sensible shoes, it screamed outcast, and I definitely was one.

I stood and made my way toward the double doors that still hadn't opened, and to Pop and Ellison who would soon walk through them. It'd been too long. I'd gone to Smixton College, or Smarty Pants University as Pop called it, to soak knowledge into my fingertips and blot out as many unnecessary distractions as I could. But I missed how Ellison used to coax the snarls from my hair - chains and all - with a gentle touch, while Pop used to make me laugh until my body turned to rubber.

My throat pulled tight at the memories. I was technically an adult, a full-grown woman in her second year at college, and I was getting all emotional because I missed daddy and sissy. But rusted balls, yes I did.

I snatched a small piece from my pocket that I'd melted down from the legs of an old wrought iron bench, popped it into my mouth, and swallowed. The sharp iron zest traced calm over my taste buds and down to my toes.

It didn't usually take this long to dock or get here in the first place, for that matter. The Nebulous's passenger cruiser was supposed to be here yesterday, but no one bothered to explain the reason for the delay. The blonde female guard, who I swore was paid to glare at people, stood inside the Waiting Room doors, just as she did now, and ordered us all home yesterday with fists posted on her hips.

"The cruiser will be here tomorrow," was all she'd barked. Now, she tilted her head to the side, probably listening to her Mind-I, the computer implanted in her head, while sweeping her cold blue gaze over the room as if she expected a riot.

Excitement faded to frustrated grumbling. Some people sank back onto the large red benches. What was taking so long?

Time to move and see what I could find out. I made my way to the nearest wall of windows that bordered the room and glided along their length, stepping over the plush, white carpet and people's stray children. Many of them had their noses pressed against the glass to watch the falling snow with dreamy smiles. If only we could all be so worry-free.

Stares and biting whispers lanced my back. I should've been used to curious glances, but stares always made me feel like a microscopic paradancyl in biology class - all shine and no substance. I'd rather they didn't look at me at all, but if my metal armor meant a little ogling, I could handle it. It was light years better than the alternative.