Anna nodded slowly. “It feels like the right place,” she agreed, but she still looked miserable. “I just don’t know why.”
“Well, it’s a start,” Piper said. “Look, what you need is sleep. We’ve both been through a lot today. Tomorrow, we’ll work on your memory.”
Anna reached across the bed and slid her cold hand into Piper’s. “I’m glad you’re my protector,” she said. “You’re fierce like a mother goshawk.”
Piper laughed self-consciously. She didn’t know what to make of that compliment. “Sure, sure, that’s what they all say,” she joked, but Anna didn’t seem to hear her. The girl’s eyelids drooped; she was already half asleep. Piper moved aside so Anna could lie down. Seeing her stretched out like that, Piper realized for the first time how dirty they both were. The hem of Anna’s dress was torn in several places, the skirt covered in mud. Piper’s coat sleeve was torn all the way to the elbow, and the knees of her pants were muddy and ripped.
“Maybe we should wash off some of this muck before we go to sleep,” she said, but Anna didn’t answer. She was asleep. Piper sighed and covered her with the blanket folded at the end of the bed. The dress was a loss. She would have to find Anna something else to wear. Maybe there were merchants on the train. She figured she could trade the medicine packs for clothing. “Now I’m a nursemaid,” she grumbled. “Micah would laugh if he could see me.” But saying Micah’s name out loud made his absence hurt even more.
Piper got up and wandered back over to the table, took an orange from the bowl, and forced herself to eat a few pieces. As soon as the tart juice hit her tongue, she realized just how hungry she was. She finished the orange, ate an apple and a bunch of grapes, and tried to think of the last time she’d had fresh fruit. Wild blackberries, that was it, she remembered. Her father used to find patches when he was out hunting, but even those were rare. As far as Piper was concerned, the fruit was a feast, all the different flavors converging. She savored each bite.
When she’d finished eating, she stripped off her coat and slipped out of her muddied pants. Wearing only a shirt and her underthings, she climbed into the upper berth and closed the curtains. On the other side of the bed was another, smaller window. Piper propped up her pillow and lay on her side to look out into the darkness. They were still in sight of the mountains, heading south. Noveen was on the coast, a long way away. Piper had never seen the ocean. She drifted off to sleep imagining what it might be like, one big mass of blue, a saltwater bath. Did blackberries grow in the south? she wondered.
“You should be worried,” Gee said.
Jeyne Steel wiped her hands on her pants, turned from the coal bunker, and regarded her security chief. Gee was tall but scrawny. It was hard to believe he could move half a ton of coal all by himself and hardly break a sweat. “Green-Eye, are you still talking about those two? Please tell me that it’s two different passengers you’re worried about now, because you’re coming dangerously close to wasting my time.”
Gee’s cheeks flushed. “They’re not passengers, they’re stowaways, and I’m telling you, they’ve got trouble written all over them.”
“Well, they did manage to get past you,” Jeyne said, scowling. “Speaking of which, what happened to the defenses back there?”
“The flamethrowers didn’t fire, and something killed the alarm,” Gee said angrily. “Ask your fireman what went wrong.”
“Is he still talking about this?” Trimble looked up from the firebox and grinned at Gee. Flames burned hot at Trimble’s back, but he ignored them. Jeyne often said that between the fireman who was immune to fire and Gee the chamelin, her crew would fit just as comfortably in the capital circus as on the 401.
“What happened to the third-tier defenses?” Gee demanded. “Those girls should never have gotten as far onto the train as they did.”
“I checked them over twice,” Trimble said. “Nothing’s wrong. In fact, everything’s working great back there now. Must have just been a misfire.”
“Check them again when you’re finished up here,” Jeyne told him. “No more misfires on this trip. And you,” she said, before Gee could open his mouth again, “I don’t want to hear any more about this. If trouble from two little girls is all I have to worry about, I’ll kiss the goddess’s feet—figuratively speaking.” She mopped sweat off her brow with a handkerchief and then used the cloth to tie back her thin gray hair. “The only thing you should be thinking about right now is getting this train and its cargo through Cutting Gap,” she told Gee. “No distractions.”
“I’ll be ready,” Gee said, but his green eyes were yellow around the pupils. The color change always gave away his anger.
“Good. Now get out of here,” Jeyne said. “I’m tired of looking at both of you.”
“Hey, what’d I do?” Trimble said. His black hair stood up in sweaty spikes all over his head. He pulled his goggles over his eyes and ducked his head back in the firebox.
Gee went to the window opposite the engineer’s seat and climbed out of the engine cab. He crawled up to the roof and stripped off his overalls and shirt, tossing them back through the window before he changed form. The eyes were the first to shift, the pupils turning a lambent greenish yellow and immediately adjusting to the darkness. His feet and hands widened and extended into claws, which made little shrieks as they ground against the cab’s metal roof. His body thickened and sprouted a wiry coat of green hair; his skin darkened to match. Bone spurs burst from his spine, and his face hardened, taking on an angular, lizard-like appearance. Finally, he crouched down and braced himself, and in a spasm of pain, wings burst from his back, stretching to a span of over twelve feet.
He caught the wind and let it lift him off the car. Despite his weight, his wings beat the air gracefully, carrying him easily. Below him, the train wound through the darkness like a mechanical snake. He flew up and down the line of cars, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Not that he expected to see anything. The mountains were too distant to hide ambushes or sky raiders. Besides, they hadn’t taken on enough cargo yet to make an attack worthwhile. Jeyne was right. Cutting Gap would be the real test, but they were still several days away from that obstacle.
Gee found himself hovering over the private car where the stowaways were probably asleep by now. No matter what Jeyne said, Gee knew trouble when he saw it, and those two had it pouring out their ears. Especially the older one, the scrapper. She had something inside her that burned. Gee had seen it in her eyes. He might have admired her passion if it wasn’t obvious that she and the other girl were hiding something. They were both on the run, and odds were that whatever was giving chase would follow them onto the train.
Into his home.
Gee had spent nearly his whole life on the 401, working one job or another until Jeyne gave him the security chief spot. But he had always protected the train, its passengers, and crew. They all knew him and trusted him. Jeyne and Trimble were his family, the only one he’d ever known. And he wasn’t about to let anything threaten his home, whether it was marked by the Dragonfly or not.
Since when had Aron ever cared about the 401 anyway? To Gee’s knowledge, the king had never even traveled on the train. He was too busy holed up in his estate in Noveen, running his factories and building his steamships to conquer the oceans and the skies. Everything had to be bigger, better, more efficient. If Aron had his way, someday soon the 401 would be obsolete, abandoned.
Gee rose higher into the air, releasing a howl of frustration and anguish that echoed back at him from the mountains. Why couldn’t the factories just stop and the train keep moving, traveling forever? He wished for it, but deep down he knew things weren’t that simple.
Aron might have planned to blaze a path to the uncharted lands with his ships, but it was the Merrow Kingdom’s aggression that had started all the trouble. They’d spent their iron developing weapons and war machines, building up their military to the point that King Aron’s people whispered that an invasion was coming, that the
Merrow Kingdom was looking to expand by conquering the Dragonfly territories.
To protect his kingdom, Aron halted the iron trade with Merrow and accelerated his own shipbuilding to get his plans for exploration under way, but Gee wondered how much that would really accomplish in the long term. Merrow was furious over it all, and if trade wasn’t restored soon, war would come anyway. Thousands of people had already suffered because of the rivalry between the two kingdoms; war would make the suffering a hundred times worse.
But there was nothing Gee could do about any of that. All he could do was protect the 401 and its people.
The wind buffeted him. Gee smelled snow in the air. The cold didn’t penetrate his tough hide, but the struggle against the wind was beginning to tire him out. He drifted down and landed on the roof of the stowaways’ car. He didn’t bother to soften his impact. Let them hear the noise and think there were strange, sinister things out in the dark. Gee chuckled, a sound like stones scraping together, and folded his wings around him.
Piper awoke to sunlight shining directly in her eyes. At first, she didn’t understand where it was coming from. The windows of her house were always dirty and muted the light. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and rolled over. Her cheek met with a wonderful softness, a pillow so full and luxurious she thought she might drown in it. She looked down at the sheets and blankets covering her body, and then she became aware of the gentle rocking movement of the train. The events of the previous night came rushing back.
It hadn’t been a dream. She was on the 401 bound for the capital. Her new life. And as she came fully awake, Piper realized she smelled food. Heavenly, mouthwatering scents of meat and warm bread. Dazed, Piper stumbled out of bed and made her way over to the sitting area.
Someone had placed a large tray on the table; it held two heaping plates of scrambled eggs, sausage, corned beef, and fried cassava, along with two cups and a pot of black tea.
Anna was already sitting at the table in an oversized white bathrobe, her hands clasped in her lap as if she could barely contain herself. “Someone knocked on the door earlier with this,” she exclaimed. “I didn’t want to wake you up because you were sleeping so soundly, but I knew it would be rude to start eating without you, so I waited and watched you closely all the while you slept.”
“That was nice,” Piper said. Anna was really kind of sweet, Piper thought. Sure, the idea of someone staring at her while she slept was a little creepy, but the girl’s intentions were good.
“Of course, I can understand you sleeping so long,” Anna chattered on. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept in a bed as comfortable as that one—not that I can remember, anyway. Can you believe the pillow! Oh, and I found this in the washroom.” She lifted the robe sleeve. “My dress smelled awful, so I threw it away. The robe is much more comfortable. Do you want something to eat?”
Now that she’d had some rest, Anna sounded more like a frantic hummingbird than ever. Piper fell into the chair next to her and reached for the teapot. “Yes.” She smiled. “Let’s eat.”
Anna beamed.
For the next half hour, Piper was in heaven. The tea scorched her tongue, hot and fresh and strong with spices, and the sausages burst when she cut into them, dripping with juices. Her father had rarely been able to afford meat. The meteor storms chased most game away from the scrap towns. Traders could bring it in on ice, but that was expensive, and most people couldn’t afford to keep livestock in the scrap towns. Their food came from the lakes and whatever crops they coaxed out of the short growing season. Now, in the course of one morning, Piper was eating sausage and eggs, and drinking the freshest tea she’d ever tasted. And as a bonus, eating meant Anna couldn’t talk, so there was blessed silence throughout the meal.
When Piper finished eating, she poured more tea for herself and Anna, then she took her cup and went to sit on the sofa in front of the window.
“What are you looking at?” Anna asked, her mouth full of food. She had eaten everything on her plate plus some of Piper’s food. Piper didn’t know where she was putting it all.
“I don’t want to miss it,” Piper said, gesturing outside. She watched the brown winter fields roll by, buildings with roofs covered in snow. “I’ve never been outside the scrap town before. I want to see everything.”
Anna left her plate and came to sit next to Piper. “I’m sorry I made you leave your home. I should have said that before. You saved me, and what did I do to thank you? I took you out of your nest. The wolf came and—made you leave.”
“That’s one way of putting it.” Piper caught the look of misery creeping into the girl’s eyes and patted her arm hastily. “It’s all right,” she said. “Everything important about that place I took with me.” Which wasn’t true, Piper thought, an image of Micah coming into her mind, but she didn’t want the girl feeling guilty about things that weren’t her fault. “Right now I’m more worried about the wolf—er, the man from the caravan.”
That part was definitely true. Despite the soft bed and the incredible pillow, Piper hadn’t slept well. She’d told Anna not to worry, but all night her dreams were filled with the man and the look in his eyes when he shoved her against the wall. Piper didn’t know how far he’d go if she kept getting in his way. And now he’d be awake and looking for them. It was only a matter of time before he figured out they’d left town on the 401.
Anna stared at her hands. “I tried to remember some more this morning. There were little bursts and pops, things that looked familiar—like this.” She pushed up the robe sleeve and looked at the dragonfly tattoo. “I remember it hurt when I got this. I remember the pain but not the reason they put it on me. Reaction, not reason—what does that mean?”
“I don’t know,” Piper said. “What about the man? He said he’s your father. Is that true?”
A sickened expression came over Anna’s face. “He can’t be.”
“But you don’t remember?”
“If he’s my father, I don’t want to remember.”
“Anna, you have to try,” Piper insisted. “He’s not going to stop looking for us.”
“But … we’re safe on the train, aren’t we?” Anna’s voice rose in panic. “He can’t get to us here. A train moves at an average speed of forty-five miles an hour, but a human man, even running, moves at an average speed of—”
Piper shook her head. “Anna, think. This train carries a ton of cargo. It’s going to stop. In fact, I think we’ll be making a whole lot of stops between here and Noveen. The 401 spent hours just at the scrap town station loading and unloading cargo for the Consortium. And what if we have engine trouble? All of that will slow us down. Meanwhile, that man will be looking to catch the first express train he can find—one on a different track that doesn’t carry freight—and then he’ll be moving a lot faster than us.” Judging by his clothes, Piper thought the man had more than enough coin for several express tickets. “Eventually, he’ll catch up and try to head us off at one of the bigger towns.”
“Then we need to get off the train!” Anna cried, jumping up from the sofa. “Hide somewhere so he can’t find us. Fight-or-flight all over again, and it’s always flight!”
“Fine, it’s always flight, but then what?” Piper snapped, losing patience. “Where will we find shelter? It’s winter, for goddess’s sake, and you’re wearing a bathrobe. The money and food I have won’t last us a week. This, right here”—she spread her arms, encompassing the private car and the tray of food—“is a miracle, and this train is our best chance to make it to the capital. But if you can remember anything at all about the wolf—who he is and what he wants with you, anything that might help us—you need to tell me.”
Once she was done, Piper immediately regretted her outburst. She’d spent all this time trying to reassure Anna, to keep her calm, and now she’d ruined it because she couldn’t keep her own fear of the wolf in check.
Piper’s heart sank as Anna shrank into herself, clutching the sleeves of her robe until the fabric th
reatened to tear. “I’m sorry. I wish I could remember,” Anna said in a choked voice. “I tried. When I woke up, I tried to remember why he scared me so much, but it’s like there’s a wall around him that I can’t get through. I just know his voice. In my dreams, I hear it all the time. He’s dangerous, and he’s not … normal.”
Piper laughed without humor. “Yeah, I definitely picked up on both of those things.”
“I’m sorry,” Anna repeated in a small voice.
“It’s all right,” Piper said, suddenly ashamed. She had no idea what Anna might have been through before she ended up in the harvest fields. Maybe it was better if she didn’t remember everything about the man. “I’m sorry, Anna, I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” Piper said. “Whenever I get scared, I act like a bully. My dad used to say that. You should just tell me to shut up when that happens.”
Anna’s eyes got big. “I would never do that!”
Piper laughed again, this time with more feeling. “Oh, you’ll learn to. Listen, why don’t you stay here and have some more tea? I’m going to go and see if I can get you some other clothes. You’ll need something to wear outside this room. I also need to find out where the train’s going to be stopping. Probably Tevshal, at least—that’s one of the bigger cities. People there don’t scavenge from the meteor storms like the scrap towns do. It’s too far away.”
“But why go there?” Anna asked. “I thought we had to stay on the train.”
“We do, but—” Piper hesitated. An idea occurred to her, but she wasn’t so sure it was a good one. “Well, there’s a sarnun woman in Tevshal called Raenoll. The traders who come to Scrap Town Sixteen used to tell stories about her. Do you know what a sarnun is?”
“I—” Anna stared out the window for a long moment, concentrating. “They live underground, and they speak to each other without words. Their bodies are weak, but their minds are strong, hyperdeveloped—telepathic, telekinetic. Is that right?”
The Mark of the Dragonfly Page 8
