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“Vander! Wait up!” Silco puffed as he tried to keep pace, but Vander’s broad build allowed him to push through the crowds with ease. Silco could barely keep his eyes on the shoulder-length brown hair that bobbed in and out of sight around miners heading home from another grueling shift at the Fissures, drunks looking for somewhere to find oblivion, and the endless flow of people that moved through the dim green light of the undercity. “I’m not s’pposed to go further than the Lanes!”
“Crimanitely, Silco, you big baby,” Vander huffed as he grabbed a handful of the smaller boy’s scarlet shirt and pulled him into an alleyway. “Come on, we’re gonna miss it!”
He turned and started squeezing his way through a narrow space between two buildings that had been practically built on top of each other. Silco cast a nervous glance over his shoulder, half expecting his old man to come charging out of the crowd brandishing his folded belt, grabbing him with fingers of steel. His breath heaved in his chest, frozen in fear until a huge hand fell on his shoulder. He practically jumped out of his skin as he turned to find Vander staring into his face.
“Silco? You okay?”
“Yeah…” Silco shook his head, took one last look out into the crowd, and then turned towards Vander. “I’m okay.” Vander spent another moment appraising him, but finally nodded and waved for him to follow.
Together they passed through alleys and up the staircases of abandoned buildings, always moving higher and higher. Legs burning with the climb, Silco looked back the way they had come, worrying his lip with his teeth.
“How much longer? Mama and Felicia are gonna worry,” he muttered. “I don’t think…”
“Don’t worry, we’re almost there.” Vander was studying a rickety wooden door. “Where did you come from again? Before you came to Zaun?”
“Nowhere around here,” Silco replied evasively.
“You ain’t been topside, right?”
“No.”
A wild grin spread across Vander’s face. “You’re gonna love this, then.” Putting his shoulder to the door, he pushed. With a loud creak it started to give, but before it swung open he stopped and looked back at Silco. “Close yer eyes,” he ordered.
Silco gave him a suspicious look, but Vander just wiggled his eyebrows at him, and with a huff and a half smile he relented and slowly closed them. He heard a loud creak as Vander finally managed to force the door open, and then felt giant, warm hands close gently over his own.
“Keep yer eyes closed, Silco,” Vander said softly, and then Silco was pulled stumbling forward a short way. He was nudged and turned, keeping his eyes tightly shut as Vander shifted him this way and that, but finally he heard the bigger boy grunt in satisfaction.
“K, Silco. Open ‘em.”
Silco’s breath caught in his throat as a vision lit up the dark sky. It was like a dreamworld; clean and safe and beautiful. He raised his eyes even further, where tiny pinpricks of light twinkled in the black.
“That’s Piltover,” Vander explained, locking his hands behind his head, elbows sticking out as he took in the sight. “Pretty, huh?”
“Yeah.”
Together they watched in silence for a while, completely forgetting about the passage of time.
After a while Vander spoke, his voice soft and wistful. “My dad said if we can get just one person onto the Council, things’ll be better. The miners won’t have to go down into the Fissures… clean air…” He glanced at Silco out of the corner of his eyes as he spoke. “Suppose you could do it. Be the councilor, I mean.”
“If wishes were fishes…” Silco breathed, eyes locked on the city on the hill and thoughts of sumptuous banquets making his stomach rumble with hunger. Next to him Vander snorted.
“What does that mean?” he asked, peering over at Silco, grinning.
“Nothing,” Silco replied, his mind already whirling with possibilities. “It’s just a saying.”