Sarah

I pull the crank that opens the ceiling in the tower, watching as the night sky comes into startling clarity. The stars are faint overhead, shielded by a layer of thin mist that moves across the sky like wisps of smoke. The moon, however, is full and painted a pale blue. It’s stunning, and even through the haze of poison still in my system, I can feel its pull.

The voices that usually come from the orrery are silent as I move toward it, taking note of its gears and spiraling tangles of sleek steel and brass. The planets in our solar system circle around the moon in this...