The Electric Age

Wright Carter's greatest ambition in this life is to live safely. He never goes deep. Don't ask random questions, don't look around. There are ten thousand ways to die at the bottom of Iron Anchor City, and knowing too much is the fastest way. But his right hand didn't think so. That hand was steadier than a ruler and compass, and the things he drew were more real than any markings on the drawing—including things that shouldn't exist. Hidden chamber. The pulsation of the earth. A ruin so old that no one remembers its name. His hands knew where they were, and before he knew it they were on the paper. Until the Holy Flame Tribunal came to his door and asked him what his master had painted before his death. Until he discovered that the notes left by his master were filled with lines that should not exist under Iron Anchor City - exactly the same as what he was drawing on his hand. It took his master forty years to finish the painting. He didn't know what those lines were. He knew only one thing - his hand was made. He wants to continue painting. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.