Beneath the Shadowlanders

Chapter Three: Calista

I pace nervously across my tiny room. He's never this late... I peer out the small, dirty window above my bed. Ri, where are you?

"Lis!"

I jolt. "Yeah, mom?" I call back down the stairs, waiting for my heart to return to a normal pace.

"Dinner!" she replies, her voice betraying a sense of urgency that suggests I should make it quick.

"Coming!" I pull my unruly golden curls into something resembling a ponytail and throw on my favorite purple sweater. When I get downstairs, my mother and sister are already at the table in our combined kitchen and dining room. I plant myself between them and take a sip from the water glass one of them has already poured for me. It's coppery and slightly lukewarm, thanks to the system of pipes that brings it up from the series of underground wells the Underlands are built on top of.

And then it begins. "Lis, have you seen your brother?" my mother asks in a failed attempt at nonchalance.

Crap. "Last I heard, he was staying late after school to study for his math test," I lie. My sister Abigail kicks me under the table and I glare at her out of the corner of my eye. She glares right back, but says nothing.

"Seems awfully late for him to still be at school," my mom muses, a crease forming across the top of her brow, but she says nothing more on the matter, and begins handing out plates. Silently, I take a scoop of the wilted salad in the center of the table, and hold out my plate for a couple scoops of macaroni, both courtesy of the Underland Hydroponics Corporation Department of Family Sustenance. Their hydroponic gardens and food delivery programs are responsible for the majority of the available food in the Underland. Unfortunately, it's still never enough.

I glance nervously toward the door. Come on, Ri, I wince internally. If he violates curfew again, we'll lose his food ration for the next week, and of course, mom will insist that we split the remaining three rations four ways, so no one has to go hungry. I appreciate the sentiment, but it still doesn't soften the blow – or the hunger pangs. I tuck into my bland, ration-approved meal, silently praying he doesn't get caught.

Deciding not to take the matter any further, my mother turns to Abigail. "So, Bee, how was University today?"

Abigail started at the local branch of Underland University last year, studying hydroponic biology. My mother is infuriatingly proud. She insists that Bee is going to solve the Underland hunger problem, which frankly seems like a lot of pressure to put on someone, but Bee is as determined as ever. I'm expected to start there next year, but I haven't even considered picking a major yet.

"Not bad," my sister responds between mouthfuls of macaroni. "I have a microbiology exam next week, and my hydro-botany prof has the flu, so I just spent the whole class period catching up on lab work."

"Lis?" My mother turns her ever-watchful blue eyes to me. "How about you? Anything interesting in school today?"

"Not really," I shrug. There never is. I go back to poking at the soggy lettuce on my plate, hoping that will be the end of the conversation.

"Nothing?" She seems desperate for some kind of topic, so I wrack my brain for something to contribute.

"I guess they started selling tickets for the homecoming dance or whatever," I admit, with immediate regret as my mother's eyes light up.

"Oh, really? That sounds delightful!" She clasps her hands together. "We'll have to find you a nice dress, and Bee can do your hair, and –"

I nearly choke on my food. "Whoa." I stop my mother before she can get any further. "I never said I was going. Just that it was happening."

"Well, why not? Your sister always used to go. And she really enjoyed it, didn't you Bee?" The excitement on her face is freaking heartbreaking.

"Oh, yes, of course," my sister agrees, nodding emphatically. Because obviously.

"It's not like I could even get a date," I mutter. "Besides, Bee went before the migration. Do you know how pathetic an Underland homecoming dance is going to be?" I punctuate my statement with a stab of my macaroni.

"Now, Lis –" my mother starts, but thankfully, I'm saved from further discussion by the sudden bang of the door swinging open. My brother has finally deigned to return home.

"Hey. Sorry I'm late. I was studying for a test and lost track of time..." He trails off, running a hand through his golden blond hair and dropping his gaze when he sees my mother glaring at him.

"Orion! So glad you could join us!" my mother exclaims, bursting from her seat, sarcasm dripping from her tone. She stares daggers at him as he drops his coat by the door and moves to sit at the table. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

Ri is taken aback. "Eating?" he states quizzically.

"Are you, now?" My mother leans back on her heels and folds her arms. "And, tell me, what do you plan to eat?"

He surveys the table. "Uh, macaroni and salad?" He seems even less sure this time.

"Really? Because I'm pretty sure that's what we had for dinner. A dinner which you have missed. Again." She snatches up the salad bowl and macaroni dish for emphasis, drawing them out of his reach.

Orion glances down had his hands, sheepishly. "Look, I'm sorry, I just –"

"Nope," she interrupts. "I don't want to hear it. If you had been caught you would have cost us food rations for a week. Do you realize that?" She's on a roll now. I sink back into my chair, hoping to avoid any of the backlash. "You can't keep doing this, Ri! One of these days you're going to end up conscripted like your father and then what will your sisters and I do? Hmm? Did you think about that?" Her hands flail wildly as she speaks, her ice blue eyes living up to their color.

He's silent.

I decide not to comment on the fact that we are grown (or nearly grown, in my case) women who can take care of themselves. In fact, Orion is the youngest of the three of us. But I know when to keep my mouth shut.

"That's what I thought." My mother sighs and sinks into the dirty kitchen counter. "Go up to your room. We'll talk about this later."

He obeys, grabbing a worn paperback off the living room table on his way.

My mother turns to the counter and puts the remaining salad greens and pasta onto a plate, which she places into our ancient refrigerator – the only kind the scouts could get down here from the surface. It's not great, but we're lucky to have one at all; more than a few of my friends are stuck with old fashioned ice boxes dug into their yards. Then she gets to work rinsing out the dishes so they don't sit in the sink until tomorrow.

I quickly finish my food, sliding the plate gently into the sink before making my own way back upstairs. I consider knocking on Ri's door to check on him, but I think better of it and head silently into my own room.