Kale glanced at Gavin, and his friend beamed. The older knight leaned close and whispered, “You’re a lucky man.”
Watching Aileen proceed up the aisle on her uncle’s arm, Kale couldn’t help agreeing. He had never pictured himself as the marrying type -at least not to anyone but River- but the way Aileen looked at that moment made him doubt everything he’d ever believed. If a man must marry, he couldn’t help thinking, he could do a lot worse.
The music died down as she reached his side, and the sound of a quietly strummed lute filled the air. Aileen’s uncle left her standing next to Kale. He stepped onto the podium and began to speak. Kale listened with unusual interest to the story of Dragonwall, of the first people to discover the mountain and make it their home, and of the long and rich history of the kings who had lived there. Aileen’s uncle spoke of the coming of dragons -this was a surprise, as Kale didn’t realize that they hadn’t always been there- and how the humans of the time almost went extinct.
When the story was over, Kale knew more about the history of Danaise than he could have learned from a thousand tapestries. He finally understood the origin of the knights and the development of their unique technologies, all of which had been spurred by the dragons and a few old manuscripts that had survived the starfall.
At last came the time for vows. Kale and Aileen faced one other. She turned her glowing face up to his and recited the traditional poems and oaths. Kale listened, breathless as he stared down into her sparkling eyes. The words seemed to roll over him like music, blending and harmonizing with the chords of the lute that came drifting through the pavilion on clouds of incense.
When she had finished, Aileen gazed up at him expectantly. Kale blinked. Somehow, she had come to the end of her speech. How had that happened? Behind him, Gavin cleared his throat. “The days of kings...” he said in a gruff whisper.
Kale’s eyes widened. “Oh, right!” he said. “In the days of kings and the dragons of dawn...”
Aileen pressed her lips together and suppressed a giggle. Many of those in the crowd didn’t. Kale reddened a little as he recited the words, but having thus been prodded, he now remembered the length of the speech entirely. Thankfully, he made it through without any more slips.
When it was all said and done, the couple exchanged a traditional kiss and then turned to face the crowd gathered before them. The audience cheered, and the music rose. At just that moment, three familiar faces came through the entrance and appeared at the back of the hall.
Kale’s eyes widened as he recognized Thane, Morgane, and Micah. His face paled and his mouth went dry. According to what he had been told, everyone on the Iron Horse had died in a crash. How could this be possible? And if these three were here, what of the others? What about River?
His heart hammered in his chest. Behind him, Kale heard the voice of Aileen’s uncle as he made the final wedding announcement: “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Aileen, Queen of Danaise and her husband Dane, your new king!”
The crowd cheered. The band came to life and vibrant, lyrical music filled the air. The couple walked down the aisle, touching the hands of their subjects as they proceeded towards the exit.
Chapter 7
Two days earlier.. .
SOCRATES SPENT SEVERAL minutes peering through his long spyglass before he finally lowered the device and collapsed it into a six-inch brass tube. He turned to River with a heave of his furry midnight-blue shoulders. “It’s the end of the line. Quite literally, I’m afraid.”
River frowned at him. “What do you mean?”
The automaton handed her the scope. His body made quiet whirring noises as he moved, and a puff of steam rolled out of the chimney behind his ear. River accepted the device and turned to face the sweeping plains of Ashago. The land was dark under the simmering clouds. Rivers of lava cut swaths across the cracked earth and periodic flashes of lightning crackled across the sky. She lifted the spyglass to her eye.
Despite the hot wind gusting up the slopes, the view sent a chill down her spine. Ashago was a devastated landscape, a desert where nothing grew and few things could survive at all. How fitting it seemed that this was the place the Legion had chosen to call their home. They had thrived here, hidden in the land of shadows and fire where the hardiest of humans feared to tread. She wondered how long they had been here, how long they had been raiding towns and cities to the north, bringing back prisoners to murder and convert into their own kind.
River swept her view to the southeast, where the rails seemingly vanished into the shadow of a small mountain. She zeroed in on the army of undead encamped along the tracks and caught her breath. “What is that?”
“Look closer,” the ape said.
River raised the scope, twisting the outer tube until she could focus on the irregular shapes in the background. Her jaw dropped. What she had taken for a mountain was nothing of the sort. The sharp angular corners came into view, and the tall, elegant spires... She lowered the scope and turned to face her blue-furred companion.
“It’s a city?”
The ape gave her a slight nod. “I’ve seen references to this city in Sanctuary. At least, I believe they were about this place. I’ve only found it in one of my ancient maps. Until this moment I never knew it was real. At the time Sanctuary collapsed, there were rumors of another city that had been discovered far to the south. It was called Ironhold. Do you remember the derailed train we found in the crater?”
“It was going to Ironhold?”
“Possibly. The victims of the crash may have been explorers, or ambassadors from Sanctuary.”
“And they never made it,” River said quietly. She put the scope back to her eye. “The tracks end at the city gates. Why?”
“I can’t say. Perhaps the steamscouts had been programmed to find other signs of civilization, and this completed that mission. They could have run out of supplies, or found some other difficulty.”
River peered through the spyglass. “Hundreds of ghouls down there,” she said with a distasteful curl of her lip. “What a place for the tracks to lead us.”
“Do you notice anything else?”
River squinted, drawing her view across the scene. She lowered the scope and turned to face him. “Why are the ghouls not going inside? They’re all camped outside the gates.”
“That would seem to be a very important question. We know the ferocity of these creatures, so what would cause the ghouls’ aversion to the place?”
She stared at him, eyes narrowing as she considered the implications. “Socrates, we have to get in there!”
“That,” said the automaton, “is the problem. The only way into Ironhold is through that encampment.”
“Then we’ll go through them!” she said. “The Iron Horse can do it.”
“Agreed. But once it is done, we will be cut off. As you can see, the tracks end at the city. Once inside, there will be no means of escape.”
“But the people of Ironhold must have a weapon, or something that holds the Legion at bay.”
“Perhaps.”
She narrowed her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“If they have the ability to kill those ghouls, why don’t they do it? Why tolerate this encampment on their doorstep?”
River searched for an answer, and found none. “I guess there’s only one way to find out,” she said at last. “I’ll get ready.”
Socrates gave a slight shake of his head. “It’s too dangerous. I must go alone.”
“What? You can’t mean that! What about the rest of us?”
“You will go back and warn the others about what we’ve found.”
“Back! To where?”
“Dragonwall, New Boston, Astatia. Sanctuary. You must tell everyone who will listen. There is an enemy at our gates that we will not defeat unless we work together.”
River crossed her arms. “The others can do it,” she said. “I’m going with you.”
“River-”
“Don’t!”
she interrupted, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t even try to talk me out of it, Socrates. I’m not letting you go in there alone. Besides, I didn’t come on this trip to turn back before it was finished.”
Socrates stared at her. His gears clicked and his chimney steamed, but he could not come up with an argument that would pacify her. The only way to deter River would be to overpower her, lock her in chains, and force her to go with the others. It wouldn’t be easy, either. River could fight like a wolverine when she wanted to. It would take the entire crew to subdue her.
“All right,” he sighed. “Don’t tell the crew just yet. We’ll have one last meal together.”
“Why?”
“These people have grown into a family during our adventures. I don’t want their last meal together tainted by worries best saved for later. Allow me to tell them in my own time.”
River nodded her assent. They turned to walk back to the train, and when they arrived, Socrates told River to open the bar. There was no point rationing ale that no one would be able to take with them.
Socrates spent the next few hours baking loaves of his special herb-seasoned bread and sweet rolls. With Vann’s assistance, he prepared a main course of roasted duck, trout, and hearty dragon stew. The duck and trout were courtesy of Loren, Kynan, and Tasha. The train’s Tal’mar crewmembers made regular hunting excursions during their brief stops. The preserved dragon meat was left over from the crew’s stay at Dragonwall. Socrates had become a master at disguising the unappealing meat in various dishes. The trick with dragon, he had learned, was that it was important not to undercook it. Unlike steak or other red meats that remained tender when cooked only briefly, dragon meat was never tender. The trick was to boil it into submission. Only after cooking the meat for several hours did it reach a consistency that was pleasant to bite into.
There were other items as well: cakes and tarts for dessert, a selection of sweet and butter sauces, roasted and seasoned vegetables, and so on. Compared to the usual rations, it was a feast worthy of a holiday. Socrates hoped the festivities (and freely pouring ale) would keep his crew distracted, but it was inevitable that tongues would start wagging. Long before dinner, crewmembers began glancing at him and speaking in low tones. They knew something was up. They could see the road ahead as well as anyone. Something was going on, and the feast their commander was preparing only served to validate this suspicion. Sadly, despite his best efforts, their meal was a somber one.
It was ten o’clock when Socrates finally made the announcement they all had been waiting for. He stood on the bar in the dining car, and called for the crew’s attention. At the ape’s feet, Pirate the raccoon stood upright to give him a salute and then went back to stealing scraps from a distracted crewmember’s plate, and the occasional sip of beer, when he could manage it.
“As some of you have no doubt guessed,” Socrates said in a booming voice, “we have come to a crossroads in our journey. Although you can’t see it yet, there is a city named Ironhold up ahead. Between here and there is a stretch of hostile territory that is crawling with a legion of ghouls.”
“Then we’ll go a different way,” Thane said.
“I’m afraid not. The rails lead straight to the city, and there is no other path before us. However, I cannot in good conscience ask any of you to come with me on this last part of our adventure. Instead, I’m asking you all to take up a new quest. You will split into two groups, one journeying north to carry news of our discoveries to New Boston and Sanctuary, the other heading west across the mountains to warn Astatia and the Kanters. It is imperative that we warn these people of the scale of our problem. If we don’t confront the Legion head on, if we wait until they see the danger with their own eyes, it may be too late. I cannot stress enough how important this is.
“Those of you going north can take the steamscout, but those going west will have to travel on foot. As much as it pains me to say this, I’m afraid this is the end of our journey. The crew is hereby disbanded. Please pack your belongings and prepare to leave first thing in the morning.”
They stared at him in mute silence. Socrates had expected questions, perhaps even some argument, until he realized that they too had seen the ghouls out on the plains. They had encountered these monsters once already, and only barely survived. No one wanted to repeat that experience. After a few moments, Micah found the courage to speak up:
“Can’t we just go back?” he said in a quiet voice. “Just put the train in reverse?”
“Under different circumstances, that would probably be the best course,” the ape admitted. “But River and I have seen something... There is something about Ironhold that the legion fears. It may be that they possess a weapon capable of defeating the ghoul armies. We won’t know until we get inside, and we can’t do that without taking a great risk. River and I will go alone, and try to learn what we can.”
“What!” Micah said. “The two of you? You can’t!”
“The decision has already been made,” Socrates said.
Micah turned to River. “Don’t go,” he said. “It’s too dangerous! Talk some sense into him.”
River gave the halfling a pensive smile. “I’ll miss you, Micah. Take care of yourself.”
“What about Pirate?” he said. “You can’t just turn him loose. He’ll never survive.”
“I will carry him,” Loren said as he rose to his feet. He leaned on his bow -the weapon never left his side- and drew his gaze across the room. The silver-haired Tal’mar was probably a century older than any of the humans on the train, and was something of a father-figure to his younger Tal’mar companions. He met their gazes now.
“We should go west,” he said. “We can travel among the trees and move much faster than the humans. We can lead those who follow on the safest path. We will see to their safety until we reach Astatia. Then I will go north, to reunite with my kin in Sanctuary.”
“I’ll meet you there,” Thane offered. “I’ll take the steamscout to New Boston and relay what we have learned. Then I’ll catch a ride on Rowena’s airship back to Sanctuary.” The bard hadn’t been himself since leaving Shayla behind, and everyone guessed that he was jumping at the opportunity to see her again. Normally, this would have earned him some serious teasing from his crewmates. Today, it was just another painful decision.
“I suppose I’ll go with you,” Micah said half-heartedly. “I wouldn’t mind seeing Kale again.”
“I’ll go too,” said Morgane. “Though I have no desire to return home. I would still rather go north than west. I would like to see Sanctuary someday.”
“I will have the steamscout ready for you,” Socrates said. “Unless there are any more questions, this concludes our meeting. I will see you all at dawn for our final farewells.”
Chapter 8
As the crew gathered that morning, the perpetual gloom of the Firelands seemed to stretch beyond the land’s borders. The sky was dark, storm clouds rolling overhead, flashes of lightning striking here and there, starting fires along the slopes as the thunder echoed through the mountains and rumbled across the plains. The thunderheads made the crew hope for rain, but the wind that blew up the mountain was hot and dry and smelled like sulfur and burning oil.
There were no long speeches at their parting, only a few brief farewells and hugs, and a promise that they would all meet again soon under better circumstances. Looming behind every word and every smile was the bitter knowledge that they might never meet again, that a million things could go wrong between now and then. And in the meanwhile, Socrates and River were going down into Ashago alone. The odds were high that neither of them would survive.
The Tal’mar and the few humans journeying with them vanished into the trees along the northern slope. Micah gave River and Socrates one final hug before he climbed onto the steamscout with Morgane and Thane. Thane activated the drive system, and River watched them roll down the tracks. Micah stared back at her the entire time, until they shrank to a tiny shadow in the dista
nce and the hillside loomed behind them.
Socrates clapped his hand down on River’s shoulder. In a low, quiet voice, he said, “Let’s get to work.”
There really wasn’t much work to be done. River gathered her meager possessions into a travel pack while Socrates disconnected the locomotive and the first three cars from the rest of the train. There was no reason to risk destroying the entire train. Perhaps they could come back for it later. If not, then perhaps some other people could make good use of it in the future.
River wore her spring-powered revolver on one hip, and a bullwhip on the other. In her bag, she carried a few clean items of clothing and a warm wool cloak that she doubted would ever be necessary where they were going. After packing, she found Socrates at the locomotive, giving the engine one final look over.
“Everything ready?” she said as she mounted the platform.
“Ready enough,” said the ape. “We’re not going far.”
“What if we don’t make it to the gates?” River said, leaning out over the rail to look towards the city.
“We will,” the commander said without hesitation.
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I’ve calculated the weight of the locomotive, the tender car, and the two passenger cars that we will be pulling. The momentum of the combined weight of the vehicle, and our speed at the bottom of the mountain, will carry us through any resistance we might encounter.”
“What if we derail?”
“Socrates stared at her. “Any resistance,” he repeated. River licked her lips.
“It’s not too late,” the ape added. “You still have time to catch up with your friends.”
River ignored the comment. She dropped her bag to the floor, drew her revolver, and checked the cylinder to make sure it was full. She knew a handful of lead balls might not kill the ghouls, but a lack of eyes would surely slow them down.
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