The smooth metal plates of the moleworm's armor tickled as it glided across her hand, but she sat perfectly still. The little bug, about 6 inches long, had a pleasant face and it was staring at her now. She looked back into it's eyes, then sat her hand down on the ground where she had found it. It inched it way over to the edge of her hand, then eased itself onto the rich brown soil of the palace garden.

      It crawled away, slowly at first, waving it's feelers around to try and get it's bearings. Suddenly it's feelers both pointed in the same direction and it picked up the pace, inching it's body as fast as it could toward the nest Julia had found it in. The sunset reflected and refracted off each individual plate of the worm's armor. It was a beautiful sight. Julia sighed.

      "Lucky little bug," Julia murmured. "You can just point your feelers to the wind and know where home is and what you're supposed to be. Try being a human for just one day."

      It wasn't so much that Julia didn't know who her family was or what they required of her. She knew all of that very well. But that wasn't home.

      But then, what was home? Mathieu was home. The club was home. The forest, her books, Peter's music, all these things were what she would have called home. But not even these things brought her comfort right now.

      "Julia?"

      "Yes, mother?"

      "I thought I might find you out here. What are you doing?"

      "Studying the moleworms."

      "Again?"

      "They're fascinating - so well engineered. Don't you think?"

      Lady Angela, governess of Luminae , mother of Julia, was an imposing figure, a terror to her enemies. But Julia, her only daughter, had no fear of her.

      "Well, yes, darling, they are beautiful, and one of the guild's finest pieces of work, ever. Well worth the study – for the daughter of an engineer or a guild member or a scientist. But for a Governor's daughter? No. You should be studying-"

      "Cycles, processes, food chains, politics, and supervisory arts," Julia finished.

      "-exactly." Angela nodded.

      "And I do," Julia said cheerfully. "I study them six hours a day. I soar through my tests, I dazzle my teachers, and I intimidate my peers. And I annoy myself. Does that mean I have to study them outside of the classroom?"

      "I'd like it if you were at least a little more genuinely interested."

      "Well, I'm sorry."

      "That's not why I came out here."

      "Why?"

      "It's about Fiona."

      "What about her?"

      "The funeral's tomorrow. You are going to come, aren't you?"

      Julia closed her eyes. "Do I have to?"

      "I wish you would. The whole city will be talking about you if you don't."

      "Like I care."

      "I care."

      "I know. I don't."

      "I know."

      When Julia turned around, her mother was gone. She was going to the funeral. She just wouldn't go with her parents. She was going to go with Lydia and Peter and their family. The people who really knew who Fiona was. To her parents, Fiona was just a girl that was tragically killed in a plant malfunction. But to Julia, and to Peter and Lydia, too, Fiona had been someone to look up to.

      Now Fiona was gone.

      Lydia's house was radically different from the palace. It had been built after the new revolution, by Lydia's parents, and it was very, very techna. Lydia loved it. She might have been underground in her beliefs, but all her aesthetic sensibilities were techna. Julia was very anti-techna, but she still thought it was beautiful. Peter hated it. It was smooth, random, and organic. Peter loved stone. He was all angles and order. Julia could respect that, even if she preferred ebony to concrete. Astra, and Fiona too, had loved Peter's stonework.

      Julia smoothed her fingers over the wooden, ash-colored door. She took a deep breath. She hadn't seen Lydia since the accident. She wasn't sure what to expect. Would Lydia be angry with her and her family? The Darc may not have been directly responsible for the collapse that had caused Fiona's death, but governmental negligence was. Julia's father was the heart of the government.

      Julia's fingers twitched over the wood and found the little golden doorbell.

      A few seconds later the door swung open. Peter grinned out at Julia. "Hey, Lydia, little sis, Julia's here," he called over his shoulder. He crushed Julia in a warm bearhug. "How ya doin, kiddo?"

      Julia loved Peter's hugs – who didn't? Peter was gentle but strong. "I'm doing okay, Peter. Getting by, I guess." She paused. "How's Lydia taking all of this?"

      Peter shrugged. "You know Lydia… she takes everything so hard, Jules. She worshipped Fiona; she was like, Lydia's second mother. It's gonna take her a long time to get over this one. It was bad enough when we lost Astra."

      Lydia ran to the doorway. Her eyes were red from crying, but she was still wearing her trademark smile, "Jules! Where have you been, girl?"

      "Same place as you, Lydia. Holed up in my room, bawling." Julia half-smiled at her friend and gave her a soft hug. "You okay?"

      Lydia wrinkled her nose and shrugged. "I guess. Fiona being gone isn't exactly something I know how to handle." She closed her eyes and stopped talking. Peter gently rubbed her shoulders.

      "Anyhow," whispered Julia gently, " I can't stay, mother doesn't know I'm gone. I wanted to ask if I could go to the funeral with your family, instead of mine. It would mean a lot to me."

      "You know you're welcome, anytime, kiddo," Peter said. Stop by tomorrow morning and you can walk over with us."

      Lydia smiled, "Come over, early, Jules, and I'll french braid your hair, okay? And bring your silver filigree. You know Fiona loved-" she stopped again.

      Julia hugged her, "See you."

      "'Fiona Standwicke was one of Luminae's finest citizens. She worked the way we all wish we could. Cheerfully. Always smiling. Always going the extra mile. There was nothing Fiona wouldn't have done for a friend, and all her friends knew it.' What do you think so far, darling?"

      Julia shrugged. "Nice, father. Except that you can tell you didn't really know her."

      "Sure I did, darling. We had a couple of really nice conversations. She was a good girl – and a good friend of yours. You should be pleased. The research building thought it would be nice to have Luminae's governor reside over the funeral."

      "Why is the research building involved in this? Just because they killed her, they get to say how we remember her?" Julia asked bitterly.

      "Don't bother, Howard," Lady Angela said. "Julia's not interested, there's no way we can please her in this. Just ignore her."

      Howard frowned, "She just lost one of her best friends, love, she's allowed to be a little unhappy."

      "She's always a little unhappy ," Angela reflected bitterly. "Why should now be different?"

      "For once, could you two try to get along, please, for my sake? We're the first family of Luminae, we ought to be happy." He really was trying to be reasonable, but nothing was coming out right.

      "Why, Howard? No one else in Luminae is happy!" Angela was angry now. "Maybe you should try a little harder. Something's imbalanced here; you're the one that should be finding out what it is."

      "I cannot believe you're having this fight again," Julia murmured.

      "Not that you're helping any, my dear daughter," Howard snapped. "You egg your mother on purposely, you know you do."

      "Oh, I see, now that you and I are already fighting, you're going to take my side, is that it?" Angelia cut in.

      "There's no pleasing you, woman! You're a shame to the Darc name and I'm sorry I ever married you!"