Midnight Train

by Angie Sage

  “Dice games? Not Jimmy D’Arbo?” Ratchet asked.

  Zerra nodded.

  “Well, well. I’d never have guessed it. You don’t look a bit like the old trickster. He married that flighty one, what was her name now?”

  “Mirram,” Zerra said sourly.

  Ratchet looked up at Bartlett, who was still blocking the door. “Neither of them were Beguilers, that’s for sure. So it looks like the Rocs have indeed Turned.” He grinned. “Best not go out tonight, Bartlett, hey?”

  “Huh,” said Bartlett.

  “It happens, you know,” Ratchet said, sipping his cocoa. “Those Air-Weavers out on the High Plains Turned a few years back and started going for anyone. We lost a Flyer to them. And they say some of the Xin up by Netters Cove are beginning to Turn, creeping farther down the cliffs. They terrify my old ma, they do. Like I said, the Enchantments are getting old now. Soon enough they’ll all be after every one of us and we won’t be able to go anywhere.” Ratchet chuckled. “I wouldn’t like to be guarding the city gate tonight.”

  “You mean she wouldn’t like to be guarding the gate,” Bartlett said, eyeballing Zerra. “Might get the Beguiler Bell ringing.”

  “Give it a rest, Bartlett,” Ratchet said. “What’s got your goat?”

  “Her,” Bartlett snarled. “As deputy falconer I should have been involved with choosing the next Flyer. But I come back to find some brat already in the post. We don’t even know if she’s a Dark, do we?”

  “Of course she is!” But Ratchet’s protest sounded hollow even to himself. He had no idea if Zerra was Dark to Enchantment. She had arrived on the Hawke out of the blue. The Hawke had accepted her, so he had to accept her too; what choice did he have? Besides, with Danny gone, there were no other Darks in Rekadom that he knew of. They were lucky to have anyone to fly anything right now; the city was a ghost town. Ratchet decided it was time that Zerra was out of the way; maybe then Bartlett would stop being so riled up about her. “Come on now,” he said to Zerra. “There’ll be no Birds-In tonight. You need to get some sleep and to rest that arm. Take this willow bark to chew. It will stop the pain. And there’s no need to get up for Falcon-Call tomorrow either.”

  “Thanks,” Zerra mumbled. She gulped down the rest of her cocoa, got up from the table and headed out to the long, shadowy space of the mews at the end of which was a ladder leading up to the Flyer’s loft, which was perched above the small cabin where the deputy falconer slept. She climbed up awkwardly using only her good arm, flopped down onto the straw mattress and pulled the rough blankets over her.

  As she drifted off to sleep, Zerra reflected that Ma had never ever made her cocoa. She’d never bandaged her cuts either. Or stuck up for her like Ratchet had done with the horrible Bartlett. So did that make Ratchet nicer than Ma? Maybe. Although that wasn’t saying much, was it?

  In the office at the far end of the mews, an awkward silence had fallen. Ratchet was peering out the small, open window watching the darkening sky. “He’s late,” Ratchet murmured anxiously.

  Bartlett did not comment. She sat slowly tapping her fingers on the desk, a frown clouding her deep-set, hawklike eyes. Bartlett was thinking.

  “Ah!” Ratchet said happily and thrust his arm out the window. “Here he is. Come to daddy, Merle. Come on now.” The window darkened with a flurry of outstretched wings—and then something dark, compact and powerful landed on Ratchet’s leather wristband. Gently, he drew his arm back through the window.

  Bartlett sniffed. “Bit small, your merlin.”

  Ratchet ignored the comment. He gently stroked the top of the bird’s head with his thumb while the raptor’s keen black eyes watched Bartlett suspiciously.

  “You should wear a gauntlet,” Bartlett said. “Those talons will rake your hand.”

  Ratchet raised his arm so he was eye to eye with his bird. “Nah. He always lands so neat and tidy, don’t you, Merle?”

  The little bird of prey put its head to one side as if in agreement.

  “We’re a team,” Ratchet told Bartlett. “I raised him from a chick after his mother got taken by the Hawke. Merle’s never cut me once. Not ever. We’re off to bed now. Been a long day, what with one thing and another.”

  Bartlett watched him with a gaze so piercing it reminded Ratchet of a young Hawke. “Danny,” said Bartlett. “He’s not dead.”

  “No?” said Ratchet, lowering his arm and letting the merlin settle.

  “I’m sure of it. He’s kept his Flyer jacket and ratted us out. You should send that merlin of yours out to find him.”

  Ratchet sighed. “Even Merle couldn’t find Danny if he doesn’t want to be found. And I don’t reckon he does.”

  Chapter 12

  Danny

  “YOU’LL FIND IT THERE,” JAY told Danny. “In the green box.” He grinned. “The one labeled Wrenches.”

  Danny was impressed with Jay’s workshop organization. He handed Jay the wrench he’d asked for and watched as he expertly tightened the last nut on the repaired firebox. Danny crouched on the driver’s footplate, trying to imagine what it might be like to be on the engine with a fire inside it, the pressure of steam building and the thrill of such a huge iron monster actually moving. “How fast did you say it can go?” he asked Jay.

  Jay stood up and wiped the back of his greasy hand over his forehead. “Eighty-five, so they say,” he replied.

  “Eighty-five what?” Danny asked, feeling stupid.

  “Miles an hour.”

  Danny’s eyes opened wide. “In one hour you’d cover eighty-five miles?” he asked.

  “Yeah. But that’s on a safe, straight track. We’ve not got that. We’ll be lucky to get up to twenty, with the state of the track we have.”

  Danny smiled. “Guess we’ll just have to get that track fixed,” he said.

  Jay returned the smile. “I’ve checked it over the bridge and all along the embankment past the salt oaks as far as Netters Halt. After that, well, who knows if it’s even there?”

  Danny helped Jay clean the tools they’d used that day and watched as he carefully put them away above the workbench that was fixed along the cavern wall.

  “I’d better get going,” Jay said. “I promised Gramma I’d help out this evening with little Louie. And that idiot pokkle creature the kid has. She can’t stand the pokkle, but Louie loves it.”

  Danny thought of the warm farmhouse kitchen where he’d had breakfast only a few days ago. It made the prospect of a solitary night in the damp, cold cavern feel even more dismal. “Anything I can do to help while you’re gone?” he asked. “Get something ready for tomorrow?”

  Jay regarded Danny thoughtfully. His immersion in the river had given a papery look to his skin, as though it was almost transparent. And the braid that Danny had plaited to keep his long hair out of the machinery looked like the tail of a dead thing. It felt wrong to leave him alone. “Why don’t you come to Gramma’s too?” he asked. “Get warmed up a bit. You still shiver sometimes, you know.”

  Danny was very tempted. “Thanks, but . . . well, I guess I should stay here in case Mr. RavenStarr comes back,” he said reluctantly.

  Jay respected Danny’s loyalty. “You could leave him a note. Say you’ll be back in the morning. It’s cold in here at night. I think he’d want you to take care of yourself, Danny.”

  Danny thought about it. He was tempted, but he missed Hagos more than he would have expected and hated the thought of the irritating old guy turning up when he wasn’t there. “Yeah. But . . . well . . . er, no,” he said. “But thanks for the offer. I appreciate it.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you in the morning,” Jay said.

  Danny watched Jay head off into the wide brick-lined tunnel that led out to the old dock. He imagined him walking through the evening sun along the path through the reeds to his boat, and he was so tempted to run after him. No, he told himself sternly. Suppose Mr. RavenStarr comes back tonight. You have to be here.

  Danny wandered around the cavern for a whil
e, then he climbed up onto the footplate of Big Puffer and imagined what it would be like to drive it. But as the chill seeped out of Big Puffer’s thick iron plates, Danny felt the cold creep deep into his bones. He headed into the bunkhouse, took the blankets from all four bunks and burrowed into his bed. He felt as if he would never be warm again.

  Chapter 13

  Under the Silver Star

  AS DANNY WAS FALLING ASLEEP, Alex was wide awake in Rekadom, walking with Benn up the southeast point of the Inner Star, exhilarated at their lucky escape. Unsure where to go, they hurried past windows dark like dead eyes, weeds growing up through the cobbles and boarded-up shop fronts. Feeling a little spooked by the emptiness, they moved quietly, and when they passed a shop selling watches where an attic window was lighted, Alex had the distinct impression they were being observed.

  The street widened out as it neared the center of the Star: Star Court. At the last building before the empty windswept area, they stopped. The most delicious smell of cooking was drifting out. “Just like Gramma’s chicken soup,” Benn whispered. “Oh, it smells amazing. I am so hungry.”

  Alex’s mouth was watering. “Me too, I’m starving,” she said. “But how can we possibly get anything to eat here?”

  Benn shook his head. He had no idea. They lingered by the doorway, both hoping that maybe someone might open the door and ask them in for supper, but of course no one did.

  “We need to find somewhere to sleep,” Alex whispered.

  “There are so many empty houses,” Benn said. “Let’s climb into one. And tomorrow we can get out of this horrible place and go home.”

  “You make it all sound so simple,” Alex said.

  Benn was irritable with hunger. “Do you have a better idea?”

  “No. But . . .” Alex’s voice trailed off. As the darkness deepened, she could see a few more lighted windows above them—it seemed that no one lived on the ground floors. Why was that? A prickle of fear ran through her. Were Rocadiles here too—or something even worse? “I think we should find somewhere high up to sleep.”

  “High up?”

  “Up some stairs,” Alex said. “Just in case.”

  “In case of what?”

  Benn found his question answered in a way he would have preferred not. From out of the shadows came something that looked at first glance like a tortoise—but a tortoise faster and shinier than any he had ever seen. As it headed over to them, he saw a shining glint of steel zip out from beneath its smooth carapace. Alex grabbed hold of him and pulled him up onto the doorstep just in time. The “tortoise” came barging straight for them, ramming its carapace against the step with a loud clang. There was a whirring sound, and as it spun around, they saw three tiny blades whizzing out from beneath it.

  “Sheesh!” whispered Benn. “What is that?”

  “The reason why everyone is upstairs right now,” Alex whispered back.

  “It’s horrible. Imagine that getting your foot.”

  “Ankle,” Alex corrected. “It’s ankle height.”

  Benn shuddered. “I don’t even want to think about it.” He looked down at the frantically spinning automaton. “It would be funny if it wasn’t for the blade. Look how much it wants to get up the step, but there’s no way it can.”

  “There’s also no way we can stay stuck on this step all night,” Alex said. “We’ll fall asleep and then we’ll fall off and then . . .”

  Benn shuddered at the thought of what would happen then. “I hate this place,” he said vehemently. “Why anyone lives here I have no idea.”

  “I suppose they all look after the king,” Alex said.

  “So why does the king have these horrid things running around the streets trying to stab people’s ankles?”

  “To keep people inside at night. Like a curfew. I think it’s called a slicer. I remember now they were talking about getting them in Luma.”

  “That’s horrible,” Benn muttered.

  “Luma is horrible,” Alex agreed. “You know what, I kind of remember this place. It feels familiar.”

  “You remember here?”

  “I was born in Rekadom, don’t forget. I know I left when I was only about eighteen months old, but being here reminds me of something.” She pointed across Star Court to the dark archway at the foot of the silver-topped tower. And then suddenly her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh!” she said. “Look!”

  Benn, who had been watching the slicer spinning and bashing itself against the step, jumped. “What?” he said.

  Alex looked at Benn, her eyes wide and shining. “We lived through there! I’m sure we did. When I was a baby. I remember Poppa carrying me through that arch. If you look up when you’re underneath it you can see a silver star carved on the keystone.”

  “Wow. That’s a fancy place to live,” Benn said. He looked up at the tower, its windows dark except for two triangular lighted ones right at the top. “And whoever is at the top now is well away from this nasty thing here.”

  “We were at the top once,” Alex said wistfully. “I wonder who’s there now?” She looked at Benn, a gleam in her eyes. “I’ve got an idea,” she said.

  Benn looked wary. “Yeah?”

  “Let’s get inside the Silver Tower. There are hundreds of steps there. I remember Poppa carrying me up them. We’d be safe from the slicer because we can sleep on one of the landings and no one could see us from outside, either.”

  Benn looked down at the vicious silver slicer, which was still bumping up against the doorstep. “What about that thing?” he whispered, wondering if it was listening to them.

  Alex pointed to a stack of old wooden planks piled up against the shop front opposite. It looked as if someone had decided to do some repairs and then thought better of it. “If we grab a plank each—see those long thin ones—we can fight it off.” She grinned. “We used to play a game in Luma where we hit a puck with sticks.”

  Benn nodded. “Sand hockey. I saw a match once. But the puck didn’t have sharp knives whizzing around, did it?”

  “It won’t matter once we’ve got a long stick to push it away with,” Alex said. Before Benn could object—and before she could think too much about it—Alex leaped off the step and over the metal bug, then she raced across to the pile of wood. The slicer set off, spinning in pursuit, its silver blades flashing in the light of the windows above. Benn saw Alex struggling with the wood, trying to find something that wasn’t rotten. He hurtled after the bug and the slicer turned and whizzed toward him. Benn leaped up onto the woodpile, sending the assortment of planks, boards and beams tumbling down and clattering across the cobbles, taking the slicer with them. Alex grabbed two long, sturdy planks from the bottom of the pile and threw one at Benn. “Run!” she said.

  They ran.

  The slicer followed. Fast.

  As they raced across the empty Star Court, Alex and Benn took turns batting the slicer away. Sometimes Alex missed and Benn hit it, sometimes Benn missed and Alex got it. As they neared the safety of the archway of the Silver Tower, Benn took aim as the slicer came spinning toward him and one of the blades stuck into the wood, and Benn found himself joined in a strange dance with the contraption, which he had no idea how to get out of.

  “Benn, let go!” Alex yelled.

  Realizing that was the answer, Benn did just that. As the slicer and its new attachment whirled toward them, they ran for the silver arch and leaped inside. They stood inside the arch catching their breath and watching the slicer come to a halt as its new arm thudded into the step. “It’s clever, isn’t it?” Benn said. “But it’s not an Enchantment, right?”

  Alex nodded. “Right. Enchantments are living things, not machines.”

  “If it didn’t have those horrible blades it would be fun to have one—like a pet. I wonder who made it?” Benn mused.

  “Someone with a very nasty attitude,” Alex said, gazing up at the underside of the arch. She turned to Benn, smiling. “I knew it. There’s a silver star beneath the keystone. I’m hom
e.”

  Benn grinned. “Want to show me around?”

  Alex led the way up the winding stone stairs, lit only by the light of the moon coming in through the little window on each turn. Halfway up they stopped at a wide landing with a bench beneath a small triangular window. Benn threw himself down on the bench while Alex looked out the window at the orchards below.

  “Oh!” she murmured.

  “What?”

  “My mother. I’ve tried and tried before, but I’ve never been able to remember her. And now . . . now I can. I can almost feel her . . . holding me. She had rings. Lots of rings. I remember her hands on my tummy. Holding me up so I could see the horses in the orchards.”

  “What a good memory you have,” Benn said.

  “I had to be here to remember, I guess.” Alex smiled. “Let’s go to the top. I’d like to take a look at our old door. Maybe I’ll remember some more.”

  “But someone lives there now. We saw the lights on,” Benn said.

  “They won’t know we’re there, will they?” Alex set her foot on the next flight of stairs. “You don’t have to come. I’ll just go up and take a quick look.”

  Benn got up. “No way. We stick together.”

  They climbed slowly up, passing more deserted landings, until Alex was sure they were nearly there. As she turned the last twist of the stairs, she stopped so suddenly that Benn bumped into her. “Oof!” he gasped.

  Alex swung around, her finger to her lips. “Shhh . . .”

  But it was too late. Above them they heard the familiar clatter of Jackal claws upon stone. And a moment later came a loud sniffing sound. Alex’s hand found Benn’s and the prickly sensation of Enchantment began creeping over him. As they pressed themselves back against the wall, they saw the white-headed Jackal, its pointed nose in the air, ears pricked up, its long red coat sweeping the ground as it descended the stairs toward them. Inside their Fade, Alex and Benn threw each other panicked glances.