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A group of men and women jumped to the ground from a car near the engine, several stumbling over the uneven terrain. Their lanterns shone on the track as they jogged beside the engine, easily keeping pace as the train continued to slow.
“Guards?” I pointed at the group, who all wore dark uniforms trimmed in gold buttons and braiding. At the front of the cluster, a rifle barrel glinted, reflecting lantern light. Dread shimmied down my spine.
“Looks like it,” Brahm said. “I’ve never seen anything this organized before—they look like professionals. Perhaps the train’s owners have decided to take the bandit threat more seriously.”
“This isn’t going to go well,” I said. “Not if they’re bringing guns to the fight.”
“Liesl,” Niffin whispered, “you can stop this.”
I glanced at Brahm’s shadow. Who was he? Could I risk revealing myself?
If I did nothing, there would be bloodshed, and I wanted no innocent deaths on my conscience, not in exchange for keeping my identity secret. I sucked in a deep breath, closed my eyes, and unleashed the storms.
A mighty whip of lightning lashed the sky.
Thunder, louder than the bandits’ explosion, rocked the air, and its concussion battered the earth, the train, my companions, and me.
The guards paused and gaped at the sky, but I was focused on the tracks where a throng of bodies, indistinct in the gloom, rushed toward the train. With a flick of my finger, I threw a bolt into their path, and the explosion was the vicious roar of a pack of angry beasts.
The lightning strike illumined the scene for an instant, long enough to reveal a glimpse of twenty or so bodies carrying shotguns, pickaxes, and pitchforks. A poor man’s army, but they seemed angry and determined. Memories of the Thaulgant Brigands rose in my mind, and ice filled my veins.
My manmade heart seized, and I stumbled, sinking to my knees.
Wheezing, I clutched at my chest as the ghost of my old agony burned like fire behind my sternum.
Breathe, girl, breathe, Grandfather urged. Don’t let the panic take you.
Niffin echoed my grandfather’s commands. Grasping my shoulders, he held me close. “Easy,” he whispered in my ear. “Be easy and take a breath. Remember who you are. What you are.”
I shrugged him off, sucked down my panic, and stumbled away, searching for another ladder.
“Where are you going?” Brahm barked.
“To try to stop this before someone gets hurt. Or worse.” After jumping to the car behind me, I found a ladder and shimmied down to the platform between two first-class carriages. Lamps inside the car cast pale, ghostly light on passengers pressing against the windows, watching, eyes wide with fright. As soon as I reached the platform, I jumped to the tracks and raced after the train’s hired guards.
Gravel crunched as someone hit the ground behind me. I looked back long enough to catch a glimpse of Brahm closing in and Niffin sliding down the ladder, not bothering with the rungs.
“Stay back,” I said. “Let me handle this.”
“Not on your life,” Brahm bellowed. With fists clenched like sledgehammers, he raced forward, surging into the fight, leaving me behind.
Brahm and the guards had nearly reached the bandits, and the two groups raised their voices, shouting at each other, volleying threats and warnings. A gunshot exploded. Then another. Someone screamed, and like rams locking horns, the two gangs crashed together. Brahm put his fists to work, punching, striking, beating. He was a relentless machine, but despite my uncertainty about him, I didn’t want to see him, or anyone else, get hurt.
Tossing out a desperate net woven purely from willpower, I dragged in more clouds and crushed them like fistfuls of grapes. A deluge plunged from the skies, raindrops striking like bullets, but instead of killing, my assault might’ve saved a few lives.
I advanced on the melee and heaved in a huge breath. Letting it out with a powerful exhalation, I envisioned hurricanes, tornadoes, and brutal winter gales.
Whipping currents roared down the tracks, scattering guards and bandits like corn stalks in a hailstorm. Niffin braced beside me, feet wide, shoulders rigid. He was as drenched as I was but stood boldly against the raging winds.
I threw my hands wide and brought them together in a massive clap. Thunderclouds clashed overhead, the concussion blasting through us all like a bomb. Gasping, Niffin trembled, nearly losing his balance. I locked my knees and shoulders, caught a streak of lightning, and hurtled it into the gravel beside the tracks. A geyser of rocks sprayed over the crowd, scattering the mob farther apart. They eddied like currents in a raging river, confused and uncertain which direction to take, where to run to escape the onslaught of winds and rain, thunder and lightning.
“Now what?” Niffin shouted over the roaring storm. He was a shadow, and only his body heat indicated his proximity. “They’re not fighting now, but they’ll be back to it once the storm ends.”
He was right. My only goal had been to defuse the fight, but how did I keep it from reigniting? “What if the storm doesn’t end? If I can keep it going like this, maybe they’ll give up and go home, back to where it’s warm and dry.”
“Can you do that?” Brahm asked, materializing from the gloom like a gory specter.
I recoiled from him. “Do what?”
Blood dripped from his nose, running in rivulets along his upper lip. He wiped it clean against his shirtsleeve then turned aside and spat. “Keep up the storm long enough to chase the bandits away.”
I gritted my teeth. It was probably too late for playing dumb, but I tried anyway. “Why are you asking me?”
His big hand latched around my upper arm. He yanked me close and lowered his voice. “I know who you are, Lady Thunder.”
Dread seized me in a crushing fist. I struggled, trying to free myself, but Brahm’s grip was iron. Niffin and I hadn’t practiced escaping from this kind of hold yet, but I had other tricks to use against him—electrifying ones—if needed. “But I don’t know who you are,” I said.
“Gideon sent me to help you.”
I gasped. “Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”
“The fewer people who know the truth about you and me, the better.”
“And I’m just supposed to believe you? Trust you? How do I know you aren’t Le Poing Fermé or one of Lord Daeg’s agents?”
Brahm bared his teeth as another ripple of lightning strobed across the sky. The rain had plastered his hair to his forehead, and stark shadows cut deep lines around his mouth and bent nose, turning his face into a sinister mask. “I would never work for a bastard like Daeg.”
“Still don’t trust you.”
“Sher-sah,” he replied. “Genevieve, Falak, Svieta.”
I froze, heart quaking at the mention of my dear friends. Each day since I’d left them, I prayed for their well-being. “H-How do you—”
“Gideon gave me their names, said it might be the only way to convince you I am who I say, and that he really did send me.”
Again, I jerked against his grip, and this time, he let me go. I quavered, not realizing how much energy the storms had drained from me. Braham reached to steady me, but I waved him off.
“We’ll talk about this later,” I said.
I drew down another lightning bolt, illuminating the dark shapes of angry farmers scattering down the tracks, retreating farther from the train. Was it too much to hope they might be giving up and heading home? The train guards held their place as if uncertain whether to let them go or give chase.
Dimly I was aware of exhaustion tugging at my bones and joints, weighing me down. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.” The rain diminished as my strength faded. A tremor quavered down my back and settled into my knees.
A body bumped against me, and an arm slid around my shoulders. Malita’s familiar scent of lilac soap filled my nose. Her warmth bled through my wet clothes.
“You shouldn’t be here.” I leaned into her despite myself. “I’m not sure the fight’s really over. It’s safer in the train.”
She snorted, dismissing my concerns. “We are safer together, no?”
Clinging to her, I reached deep and drew from my inmost reserves. The rain persisted. Thunder rumbled. Winds wailed. I held on until my body ached. My muscles trembled, melting into mush. One final burst of lightning bankrupted me, but its light confirmed the tracks had cleared, and only the train’s private guards remained.
“You!” A guardsman noted our motley group. “What are you doing here? Go back to the train.”
“The tracks...” Niffin said. “Are they damaged?”
“That’s none of your concern right now. Get back inside and await further instructions.”
None of us argued. Instead, Brahm lent his strength and steadied my shaky steps as we trundled to our car. We huddled together in the aisle, careful not to drip on our fellow passengers while Brahm’s companions rallied around us, shouting questions and demanding answers. He ignored them and tugged his flask from his pocket. After swallowing a sip, he passed the liquor to me, and I downed a huge, warming gulp.
Brahm whistled and sliced his hand through the air. His friends fell silent. “There was an attack on the tracks, an explosion, but the storm stopped it before it could get out of control. The guards are inspecting the rails and said they’d make an announcement in a little while. All we can do now is wait.”
“Thank the gods for that storm,” someone muttered.
Braham and Niffin must have heard the remark as well. They both glanced at me and grinned. I bit my lip, trying not to laugh, but when Niffin snickered, my dam broke, and a flood of laughter poured out. I sank to the floor, giggling, hiccupping, not caring that the other passengers were looking at me like I’d lost my mind. “Thank the gods, indeed.”
As the night stretched toward dawn, I found myself wishing I could temporarily trade my powers over the storms for the ability to generate a fire. Perhaps a Magician could cast a drying spell, but no one in our party possessed such abilities. A thick quiet had fallen over our train car, disturbed only by the occasional grunt, moan, or snore
Niffin and Malita snuggled close, arms drawn around each other. I sat near Brahm but kept a respectable distance. While I’d decided to believe he was Gideon’s agent, I didn’t know him well enough to seek or accept his comfort. So I gritted my teeth and leaned against the nearest wall, drifting in and out of sleep.
Most of our group had dozed off by the time the railway guards stormed into our car, boot steps pounding like hammers.
“Attention, everyone. Attention please.” A tall, broad-shouldered woman wearing a peaked cap and dark uniform stood at the front, bracing her hands on her hips. She scanned the room, assuring all eyes were open and focused on her before she continued. “The rails are too badly damaged to continue from this point. A train will have to be sent from Steinerland to collect you. We’ve dispatched riders to request assistance, but until then, we’ll require everyone to stay with the train.”
An older gentleman sitting close to the front shifted in his seat. “How long will that take?”
The guardswoman squinted at him, irritation curling her lip. “The riders will likely reach the next depot in an hour or so. They’ll send a message to Steinerland. If there are no complications or delays, the train will most likely arrive sometime late this evening.”
“We’ll be sitting ducks until then,” said another passenger, a young woman cuddling a sleepy little boy in her arms. “What if the bandits return before then?”
“They shouldn’t concern you.” The guardswoman’s lips thinned as she glanced at her companion, a young man standing as stiff as a fencepost, arms folded behind his back. His uniform likely made him feel bold, but I suspected Niffin or Brahm could take him down without breaking a sweat. “We’ll handle them.”
More questions and complaints tumbled over the guards, but I tuned out the other travelers and glanced at Brahm before focusing on Niffin and Malita. “Are we going to sit here and wait for that train?”
“What are our other options?” Niffin asked.
“Take the horses and go on our own. That woman was right to worry about the bandits returning. And if they do....” I lowered my voice, noting how Brahm’s companions had taken interest in our conversation. “I’ve got nothing left to fight them with.” My powers were drained, and my bones felt like limp strands of worn leather.
“We could be targets if we go on our own,” Niffin said. “We’re a small group with no guards and no rifles. No train walls to protect us.”
Braham glanced at the roof. “Protect us or keep us prisoner? I’m with Lady—ah... Liesl. If we start now, we can be in Steinerland before dark.”
“If we don’t encounter any more problems along the way,” Niffin said. “It is a risk.”
“So is staying here.” I glanced at the guards, who must have lost patience for answering questions and were making their way outside. Rising, I caught Niffin and Malita’s gazes and tilted my head toward the exit, gesturing for them to join me. They trailed without question, and Brahm brought up the rear.
His companions started to follow, but he waved them back. “Stay here. I’ll let you know when I need you.” None of the young men protested, and again I wondered whether the qualities that defined a leader were innate, or could they be learned?
Huddled together on the platform outside, we kept our voices low. The edges of the sky were turning pale yellow, and I could make out the details of everyone’s faces. “The point of going to Steinerland was to make contact with you, Brahm. Now that we’ve done that, what’s our next step?”
“We still have to get to Steinerland. There’s someone else I have to introduce you to.”
“Who?”
Brahm glanced at Niffin and Malita before looking back at me. “My sister.”
“Sister?” I blinked at him, eyebrows arched high. “What does she have to do with this?”
“That fat coin purse in your coat pocket? You can thank her for that. In person. As soon as we get to Steinerland.”
I grabbed his arm before he turned away. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why your sister would hand over so much money to someone she doesn’t know. Assuming you’re telling the truth in the first place.”
He scowled, and an angry red flush crept up his neck. “Before Daeg married Gideon’s aunt, he was married to our mother.” He gritted his teeth, muscle flexing in his jaw. “And he was a complete bastard to her.”
I must have looked like an owl, wide-eyed and blinking with surprise. “Daeg is your father?”
“Stepfather,” he growled. “My father died just after my sister was born. Mother married Daeg a year later.”
I didn’t ask how long his mother lived after that. Daeg’s son, Aodan, had once told me his father was notoriously hard on women. At the time, I hadn’t appreciated how much of an understatement that was.
“Okay,” I said. “So you and your sister are helping me as a way to what? Betray Lord Daeg?”
“We’re investing in your return to the throne, Lady Thunder. You can use allies, and so can we.”
“My favor isn’t for sale.” I crossed my arms over my chest and grumped. Yes, I needed allies, but at this rate, I would be so indebted for the number of favors I owed, I would likely never repay them all. And what kind of queen would that make me? A vulnerable one, was what.
“I bet the Fantazikes would disagree.” Brahm glanced at Niffin and raised an eyebrow, inviting him to argue. Niffin pressed his lips together and scowled but said nothing.
“The difference is,” I said, “I trust the Fantazikes.”
Brahm sighed, his shoulders relaxing. His dark hair, previously slicked back, had succumbed to a night of wind and rain. Now it coiled against his brow in glossy black curls. “Look, I’ll be glad to debate my trustworthiness with you as much as you like, but could we at least do it on the road? Steinerland is a long walk from here, and I don’t know about you, but I could use a hot meal and a soft bed.”
“Why can’t you just tell me whatever it is Gideon wanted me to know?”
“Because I don’t know what it is. My sister’s solicitor was the one who spoke with Gideon, and he only gave his information to her. My sister only shared enough with me to make it possible to contact you.”
“Why is she so secretive with her own brother?”
“She wants to meet you in person.” He snorted. “She thought if she gave me the message, I might blab, and then you’d have no reason to talk to her.”
Squinting at Brahm, I gave him a critical look. I should’ve known getting Gideon’s information wouldn’t be a simple matter, but I was too tired to argue. The appeal of stopping for a long rest and big dinner won out over my desire to be stubborn. I’d judge Brahm’s sister for myself when I met her. “Fine. Let’s go.”
