Skylark Read Online Free PDF

skylights in the dome, the hallway was lit by long glowing panels in the ceiling. It was possible to create light by raw Resource alone—it just took a lot of power. A skilled vitrarius, however, could direct the Resource through tiny glass filaments that would glow with the concentrated energy.
    I had known the Institute was lit this way. From the roof of our apartment building at night, I had seen the whole compound sparkling in the distance, lighting up the dome of the Wall above and behind it. My father used to take me up there after he came home from the recycling plant. We would sit at the edge of the roof with our legs dangling over empty space and watch the lights blink on, one by one, warm and golden, as the sun disc faded into violet darkness.
    After Basil and the other volunteers crossed the Wall in search of power to supplement the Institute’s stores, my father and I went up on the roof every night—almost as if we were hoping for a glimpse of him, even though that was impossible.
    For six long weeks, we had no news of them. Then, abruptly, the Institute issued a citywide notice declaring them permanently missing, presumed dead. An unharvested child with his or her innate Resource stores intact could survive for a time outside the Wall. But no one could survive indefinitely.
    No death, no Adjustment—nothing final, nothing to hold on to. He was just gone. We were compensated for our loss with extra ration chits and a few days off from school and work to mourn, but we were never told anything more. My oldest brother Caesar barely reacted, throwing himself into his job as a Regulator, finding comfort in ensuring the city ran as smoothly as the finest prewar clockwork. My father, though, became obsessed with trying to find out what had happened, pressing until he began speaking out against the Institute and the way it hoarded information. He was summoned before the Regulatory Board for his disruptive behavior. Even Caesar couldn’t predict whether Dad would come home, or if the next time we saw him it would be for his Adjustment. The father I remembered never did return. But a quiet, tight-faced drone eventually came home in his place. He barely spoke to me or my mother, who compensated by doting on Caesar, cooking him dinner and packing him lunches even though he technically lived across town.
    And my father never took me up onto the roof again.
    I tried once to see it on my own—the comfort and the wonder of the magical glow of the Institute—but I saw only a faint smear of light against the domed Wall, like grease clouding dirty dishwater.
    To see those same lights directly above my head now, however, washing me in their steady golden glow, was another matter entirely. They lacked the flicker of our home oil lamps and produced no warmth. And yet, my skin tingled as though some heat touched it. I could hear a faint hum, like the sound of pixie mechanisms, above the muffled sound of my footsteps. The sound wasn’t as grating as the dawn, but it showed no signs of fading either. It rested at the base of my skull, a steady pounding.
    The corridor had a polished, reflective stone floor, forming the illusion that I was walking down a tunnel of light. My heart pounded in time with the magical pulse of the lights, but I’d made my choice—even if I turned around now, Emila would be long gone. I was already lost, and this could be my one chance. I would be caught, and punished, but if it meant I had a chance of knowing Basil’s fate, it would be worth it.
    The long hallway ended in a sleek wooden door, which I edged open a crack. I could hear nothing on the other side, and so I eased it open the rest of the way.
    Ahead of me lay an immense gallery, lined on either side with fantastical sculptures. I closed the door behind me and paused at the first, a huge monstrous creature I didn’t recognize. It was covered in brown, shaggy fur, standing on its hind legs with its clawed forepaws upraised. Its jaws were