by Kalyn Crowe
He gave me the smallest frown and head shake.
I coughed. "Excuse me," I said in my normal voice.
He smiled.
Maybe Nancy was a quiet girl, and I wouldn't need to talk much, accent or not.
He fingered through his coat pocket and looked over my bag and jacket. "Here's your ticket." The setting sun's light made the slender, pearl-colored card glow.
I took it. A golden border framed an array of wind-shaped lines that gradually changed to the outline of horses.
Vanilla lightly scented the card stock. I flipped it over. "Admit one, Nancy Nardovino… Is this? This is a ticket to the Sleigh, isn't it?"
"That's right." He waved his hand toward the station. "And we will have a private cabin."
I could hardly believe it, the Sleigh. It was the fastest train in the land, reserved for the deepest pockets or highest ranks.
Dried mud still clung to my boots. Each step forward shook more of it loose. I don't even know why I wanted it to stay. After all, hadn't I intended to run off to Order college? But this new jacket wasn't an invoker's.
It belonged to Nancy, not me.
Everything felt surreal — the same as when I spoke to Conrad. We existed worlds apart. I merely visited his, like Kepi, in ours.
"Uncle, I heard the orphan girl with the Apexial lives here. Do you think we'll see her, the Lady Tempest?"
"I've sent both away." He looked down at his bag.
"I see." Just as relief came, it left. The station's Form ring arched above the crowd. Red shimmers glistened across its white marble surface. It held a continuously activated imbuement and acted as a Formist who never had to worry about spell sickness. It generated a field of Form Anima and waited readily to trace anyone who passed through. "Will we go through the Form ring with our luggage?"
His face grew expressionless. "It's small enough to bring with, and we don't carry anything magical. We're both mundane. We can pass through the ring with no disclosures. High Lord Travere's mandate and all." He extended his hand toward the station. "It will be all right."
He'd lost his mind. The charm alone would trigger our doom, not to mention Kepi or my Weaving. The Form ring wasn't precise, but it would tell all our secrets. Forget lead scroll cases; we would need lead coffins.
"Nancy, you look a bit ill. Let's get in line. You'll find a little charm can go a long way here. It already has. Trust me." He turned and nudged his bag right next to mine and opened his coat over it. "I can't seem to find my..." He searched his interior pockets.
The slightest shift in weight indicated he gave Kepi back. But what he said, he couldn't have meant the charm passed through security already. He didn't bring his lead case.
"Ah, there it is." He buttoned his jacket and strode back through the crowd to the official security line.
Templar guards tipped their heads as we passed.
We lurched toward the ring one person at a time.
A templar stood every twenty or so feet along the line. Hunters slipped through the station building and inspection booths.
Two invokers oversaw the narrow bridge through the ring. It carried people over the half-sphere hollow in the ground and straight through the center.
Walls and expectations funneled everyone over the span. One at a time, a traveler passed through, and the Invokers nodded.
"Do you know them?" I said.
He leaned around the person in front of us. "The Invokers?" He turned back. "No." Conrad watched the next person walk through the ring. He leaned over and said, "Although it pains my manners, I'll go first." He stepped onto the bridge.
In all my worry, I forgot Conrad wouldn't have accompanied my decoy. He was about to walk through the ring for the first time since the attic. The Abyss in the scroll he used to destroy my ward would show.
I toed the line painted on the ground.
They would never arrest the High Hunter on the spot for a trace of any Anima on him, would they?
I squirmed and hoped the hat's brim hid my face.
The Invokers nodded at the non-response of the ring and bowed.
Conrad crossed the bridge with no issue.
I released my breath.
The Invokers motioned for me to come forward.
I took a step and watched my boot land on the foot of the bridge. The world grew quiet. I continued and listened for any sign of the ring's flash to life as I passed under, but nothing — not even a hum.
The taller Invoker said, "Please go ahead, miss. Thank you."
Before I knew it, I stood beside Conrad.
He read my face and smiled. "We'll talk on the train."
The hub behind security organized people into waiting areas for different trains. Most of these looked the same, except for an ornate glass skyway. Purple curtains framed its entry, and a stair with gold rails led upward beyond those. We gave our tickets to the Vicar who stood beside it.
The man bowed and said, "Have a wonderful trip, my Lord, and Lady."
I blushed. No one ever referred to me as 'Lady' before.
Conrad nodded and walked passed.
I hurried after him up the stairs.
The skyway allowed for quite a view across the outer fields toward the forest. Sounds of the evening bells filled the air.
Conrad stopped. "Would you like to see it arrive from here or below?"
Regular steel tracks ran close to the station. The glass-walled skyway arched over those to a peculiar, broad single silver rail. Already a soft magenta glow grew within it.
"We'll stay here." He chuckled.
"Sorry, I haven't seen the track this close before."
"This is a good spot. Most people aren't here since they are so eager to get into another line." He paused and watched the trickle of people file behind us. Each carried spotless leather luggage and wore beautiful clothes.
More people crammed around the entrance to the stairs down to the Sleigh's loading area.
It seemed nothing freed a person from corrals, not even money.
Conrad gazed out the window. "We'll have our reserved seats."
Sometimes he seemed so, well, ordinary — not one of the highest-ranked people in the country.
I arched open the bag's top flap and set the side against the cold window.
Kepi shifted and hopefully saw out.
The other tracks ran parallel along the wall before they snaked in different directions through the fields. The Sleigh's shot straight into a vast pine forest.
As the moments past, the glow grew more intense.
Pale magenta and white light flickered within the woods.
The distant but melodic whinny of horses rustled the wind.
Six massive white horses burst from a hollow in the tree line — three on each side of the track. Their scale made the trees too small, the sky too close.
In a blur, they careened over the fields. Their ethereal white light blustered around the sleek silver, enclosed train behind. Graceful lines shaped the cars. The first of which bore the swoops and swirls of sculpted sleigh runners. Magenta Resistance radiated along the bottom in place of wheels.
Conrad inched toward the window. "They're always beautiful, like starlight."
Most spells held the color of their Anima, but not the horses. "When the East helped make the train, they created the formula for the horses. They managed to lock a perfect balance of Conduction and Resistance together." I learned about it in the library.
"Does that relate to what I said?"
"Well, yes, those Anima are opposites, and their colors are, too. Anima colors work the same as light, so together they made white, like many of the stars we see." My breath fogged the skyway's window.
He said, "Very right. In any case, we can at least say our Order helped. Our invokers imbued the underbody with strong Resistance Anima from our Resisitists to lift the train. Our Conductists calculated the right amount of Conduction for the rail and helped Apexists imbue it."
"So they repel one another and
make the train float, but not fly off." I paused. "I don't mean to undermine that achievement. It's just the East made two opposites work together. They found balance."
"Some might argue such a thing is less impressive, less functional, more artistic."
I looked over. "What do you say, Uncle?"
He folded his arms and tapped a finger. "Ants are efficient. Each member of a colony contributes; each does its duty for society. An ideal some think we humans should embody. That said, a single mind controls ants, and the queen does not fancy art."
"What about the masses who founded the High City and created the High Hall, or the northern empire?"
He smoothed his beard. "Not all great works are art, no matter how impressive."
I smiled and watched the horses slow to a canter.
They stopped before the skyway.
Their glazed eyes peered around haphazardly. The wind flowed through their manes but moved nothing else. It seemed almost like they became lost between here and there, wherever there was.
Then I noticed they left hoof prints on either side of the rail. "They're solid?"
"They are the engine. Art and function, you see. Solid light. Different from the light orbs all over the High City. Those are fluid and alternate quickly between Conduction and Resistance to work."
"The balance must give them their solidness?"
He adjusted his hat. "I wouldn't know. I can tell you they weigh less than a horse of such a size would. Someone tried to explain it once saying light is an innately physical thing." He frowned and shrugged. "Invoker nonsense, Nancy. Steer clear of them, rather snooty."
"I'll remember that, Uncle."
The line behind Conrad thinned.
He glanced around. "I say, why don't we get settled in the cabin?" He spoke in the way he did when he addressed Nancy.
I followed him out of the skyway and down into an open-air lobby. The security eased here, but not the palpable paranoia. Eyes still shifted back and forth from us and into nothing. Conversations stayed forced on small talk.
I always thought if people treated you with respect, they liked you. Instead, they feared him, as they feared me. They loathed instead of respected me, but now, I saw little difference.
I clutched the bag.
Kepi nudged me through the leather.
Short lines of people stood in even intervals along the mirror-finished body. Three silver body panels plated every car, each with a long oval-shaped window. The middle of these opened — the top half swung upward, and the bottom half down into a ramp.
Conrad approached the Vicar, who attended the nearest car. Once again, I followed his lead as we presented our tickets.
"My Lord and Lady, I can take your bags if you wish." He bowed.
Conrad waved his hand. "Thank you, but that won't be necessary. Come along, Nancy."
The man kept his head bowed as we stepped up into a narrow side hall within the train.
A thick line of light ran along the top of the car. An elegant wooden rail came waist high on my left, and a bright red carpet lined the walk. Everything was blindingly brilliant.
Conrad touched the wall to our right. Another panel door, this one shifted back and slid into the wall.
Inside the cabin, ample red cushions filled a curved and carved inset bench. It sat upon a row of drawers and a narrow closet nestled in the corner beside it.
A small brass-trimmed table stuck out between the windows on the outside wall. A cut-glass bowl of candies wrapped in glittering wrappers and silk ribbons sat on it.
"It's all right to sit," he said.
I slid off my bag and set it in the seat. Careful not to cause any wrinkles in my jacket, I sat down and picked up the bag's flap. "Is it all right?"
"It should be fine now. I'd leave the outside curtains closed until we leave the station." He shut the door.
Kepi popped from the bag and shook herself out on one of the extra pillows. She tested the cushion with her toes and talons.
I wiggled my hand. "Don't, what if you put a hole in it?"
She puffed up.
"You might," I said.
She cocked her head and then jumped to the little table. After a good sniff, she sat by the candies with her tail wrapped primly around her paws.
Conrad opened his coat, took off his hat, and put it on a wrung by the door. He extended his hand. "Here." He hung my hat and sat across from us. "The ride will be about three hours. Try to relax."
Kepi and I both eyed the candy.
He moved the bowl a little closer. "Take as much as you want."
I took one.
So did Kepi. She carried it to the bag, buried it under the clothes, and repeated the process.
I saved her the effort and dropped in a handful.
She cooed in a quiet but high pitch.
Conrad chuckled. "I see you two are birds of a feather."
My instant embarrassment faded as a knock came at the door.
6 - Shadows and Dust
I almost dumped Kepi in the bag.
Conrad shot to his feet. The small crossbow in his hand unfolded its arms in silence.
"Sir, could you help? My hands are full," said a familiar northern accented voice.
Conrad deflated some and said, "With what?"
"Steamed fish dumplings."
The shopkeeper's breakfast.
He cracked the door. "Ah, it is you, Kat, come in." He pulled it open.
A takeout food parcel radiated a bouquet of delicious smells from under one arm and a basket in the other.
She came in and shut the door. "I shouted only a finger's length from the door." She shot me a curt nod and a smile. "How loud was I?"
"Not very; we should be fine." He moved a little lever on the side of his weapon, and it refolded. In a blur, he sheathed it and gripped the table lip. "I'm sure you don't mind holding the candy dish."
I slid over and wrapped an arm around it. A gurgle from my stomach greeted the chocolate, mint, and even cherry scents.
"Thank you." Conrad pulled the little table out of the wall. It extended in sections and clicked into a solid piece. A leg swung down from underneath, and it too locked into place in a small notch in the floor. A brass ring laid in an inset beside it. A hatch maybe.
"Dinner is served." Kat set the parcel on our now bench length table. "It looks like you and I will continue our time together, eh, girl?" She nudged me playfully.
I smiled and rubbed my arm.
Kepi peeked out from the bag.
"And why hello, Kepi." Kat bowed her head with a wide smile. She took off her hat and hung it by the others. "I see you."
Kepi cooed and leaped to the table. She preened her necklace and cocked her head at Kat.
"I'm glad you have it back. Although Conrad would have looked nice in it, don't you think?"
Kepi flattened her ears and then plucked a candy from the bag and dropped it in front of Kat on the table.
She picked it up with a smile and placed it in her pocket. "I'm honored." Then she undid the string which held the food parcel together.
Conrad lifted out a jar of jam and set it aside. Next, he took out a covered round dish and placed it in front of himself. "Real dumplings?"
"Of course."
"Fish?"
"Yes." She took out a covered basket and slid onto the bench beside me. "He's asking because it's not only the code for the all-clear. It's his favorite food." She set out flatware and napkins from on top of the basket.
"I just wanted to confirm," he said.
Kat looked over sidelong and half-smiled. "See?"
I giggled.
He pulled one last box from the parcel and set it before me. "Go on, dig in."
Kat lifted the basket's cloth and revealed buttery croissants piled in the basket.
I opened the other food container, and steam wafted into my face. Hand pies smelled of roast chicken with garlic and coriander. Rosemary floated over from the fish dumplings.
Kat said, "I
s everything here all right?" She got up and took three glasses and a carafe from the cabinet.
I licked my lips and nodded.
She smiled and smelled the carafe and then poured us all waters.
Conrad dished out dumplings, and in a round-robin, we filled plates. At first, my guts couldn't decide between ravenous hunger and nervous restraint. I gave Kepi a jam soaked croissant before I dug in.
Dinner stayed quiet, aside from remarks of how good the food tasted. For now, the question about how we made it through security would wait.
Conrad ate so fast that I questioned if he chewed under his beard.
He slipped out of the bench. "I better make my appearance. Don't want the templars thinking I'm hiding out. I'll be back shortly with some coffee. Also, Kat?
"Sir?"
"It's all right not to pick up, and don't call me 'sir' Apex sake." With that, he left.
She grinned and popped a whole dumpling in her mouth. At least she didn't seem awkward.
I fidgeted and hoped Kepi would somehow create conversation.
Under the edge of the window curtain, dusk gave way to dark, and the slightest trail of chilled air drifted down.
"Go ahead and open it, girl." Kat eyed the curtain.
I pushed it aside.
Stars flecked the high sky and faded away into the last glow of the sun. We left the forest behind already. Ahead, the distant mountains meandered in silhouette. A tiny pinprick of light topped the tallest — Pinnacle.
The seat's velvet scrunched as Kat adjusted. "I am glad you came with us. Do you feel better without anything in your head?"
I half smiled and wondered how she knew. "So far."
She tightened her lips a moment and said, "You can speak frankly. Pretend, no," she paused and scanned the table, "believe I'm in this jacket for the same reason you are."
"To hide?"
"Yes."
I picked a crumb from my lap. "I guess, well, I do hope we can stop another war, and help Sybil, but."
"If your mother isn't innocent, it's for naught for you?" She looked at the hats on the wall. "For us."
"Right, why would you all risk so much?"
She turned back. "Because this is worth so much. People feel frightened. What's worse, fear motivates the people who commit these attacks. It is a sad cycle."
