Zephyr rested on the handle of her broom. Her mind adrift with the white whirls of clouds beyond the window.

Working on floor six hundred, at the pinnacle top of the office, the views outside were a painting come to life.

Just like the land that housed the office’s foundations, another floating island hovered amongst the sky. Cradled in a backdrop of azure, the luscious, vibrant greens of the rolling hills and sparkling waves of the lakes called to Zephyr as a hungry hatchling would to their mother.

She wanted to be over there, on that other world. She needed to be over there. Where the air cleared one's lungs instead of clogged them, and everyone could soar between the clouds without having to dispense a fee.

But that idea could only ever be a dream. No one had ever heard of a caretaker like her managing to break to the other side.

A grinding creak snapped Zephyr from her daydream daze. To her left stood Sir. His floor length wings dominated his office doorway, the narrow angles of his body a black pinstripe against the monochromatic beasts. He was irked, his black eyebrows a dagger's edge, his snow-white features stained by anger’s red brush.

The clock chimed, striking seven.

“Where is Ica?” he growled, his voice harsh, a grain of rock salt found on terrestrial shores.

Three rows of occupied desks ran the expanse of the sixth hundredth floor. In each seat—bar one—the monotonous scratching of pens seized, and an agitated gust of wings fluttered as every employee's head veered towards their boss. Mouths remained shut. Two hundred separate pairs of eyes blinked in synchronised silence.

Zephyr leaned harder onto her broom, her own floor-length wings threatening a quake.

“Anyone?” Sir persisted.

As wide-eyed heads began to shake and the worm in Zephyr’s stomach began to squirm, the communal trapdoor burst open.

Dazzling white light burst from the floor, and a collective sigh escaped the tightly wound chests of all. Curling coils of mist radiated from Ica’s body, and as he hurried past, Zephyr caught a strong whiff of bitter smoke.

“Apologies,” he said, wrenching the chair from beneath his desk. He unfurled his wax-yellow wings, the wood groaning as he took his seat.

Sir flapped a raging monochrome storm. Wind cracked the stagnant air. Its exuding ferocity whipped up hair and tossed loose paper.

“Late,” Sir simmered. “Again.”

“Yes. Sorry. Sorry, Sir.”

Once Sir had returned to his office, Zephyr swept her broom closer to Ica’s desk, and whispered, “What happened?”

“Happened?” His head tilted a fraction towards her, but his eyes, as if sealed by wax, stayed focused on his open ledger. “Why... Why do you think something happened?”

“Because you're smouldering—literally— and there’s soot on your shoulders.”

The wax snapped, and Ica hastily brushed the sparkling specks from his white tunic. “I don't know what you mean.”

“You tried to get over again, didn't you.”

He dipped the nib of his golden quill into the ink. The white feather shuddered. “I’m not talking to you.”

“How did you do it? Or not do it, I should say.” Zephyr glanced out the window, over the heads of the other workers. The Sun had snuck a little higher, and her omnipercipient rays felt over the land, raking up the shadows and, in turn, anyone who went beyond where they were supposed to be.

The lands guard—no need for security when The Sun saw all.

Creator, protector, and sometimes executioner. But luckily for Zephyr, not in Ica’s case.

“She almost caught you,” Zephyr murmured, “didn't she? You flew too close, and she caught you. So, flying over the top is out of the question,” Zephyr said, more to herself than Ica’s scowl. “But going below might—”

“Look. I'm glad my misfortunes are helping you and all, but please,” Ica’s eyes wandered to Sir's closed door. “Sir hates me enough already; I just want to get some work done.”

“Will you meet me then, by the engine room? After office hours, of course.”

“Why?”

“Because we both want the same thing, to get away from this grey, mundane rock—this office. And I think we can help each other.”

After a moment, Ica beamed, his smile as wide as the sky.