The Monstrous Citadel

by Mirah Bolender

  CATCH HIM ON THE RUN

  Sweepers had free transport on any of the city’s various lines and even on trains across Orien, but that required inspection of Sweeper status symbols, and the movements of Sweepers were under constant surveillance. Laura never had a problem with this before, but now she dreaded being arrested or locked up on the train, to be returned to Amicae without even a shot at Rex. Even registering as a normal person and paying (unaffordable) would end up with them in the logbooks and easily located. Hobos usually passed unnoticed, so that was the best way to get out of Amicae undetected.

  Unfortunately, Laura had none of a hobo’s wiles.

  “Is this it?” she hissed to Okane, as they skirted a humming train engine.

  Okane shuffled through a copy of the train schedule filched from the station’s doors and stumbled on the loose rock of the train bed.

  “No,” he answered, flipping the paper over to scan the back. “That’s 477. It’s taking a detour to Avis.”

  “Then where’s our train?”

  Laura stood on tiptoe to squint around. This did absolutely no good, as she didn’t reach even a third of the engine’s height and therefore had no good view of the train yard they were walking through. She’d be better off looking through the gap below the trains, but the idea of getting so close to the wheels repelled her. Other tracks nearby were crowded with cars, all supply carriers as the passenger trains lingered in the station. Their sought-after train, number 221, was scheduled to leave for a supply trip to Litus at six fifteen. This would go right past Rex or even through it, but when Litus was involved trains were amazingly punctual, even early. They had nine minutes to find this train and no clue where it was. Okane’s hands shook as he looked around again. Laura liked to think she was faring better, but she could feel panic closing in too.

  “Just our luck, we’ll probably run into the rail yard police,” she grumbled.

  “They won’t give us much trouble though, right? I mean, we work with the police.”

  “Wrong type of police. They’d throw us in a cell as soon as look at us. But that’s only if we’re lucky. We might end up with some broken bones first.”

  Okane shuddered. Laura cast around again, checking for any workers, and spotted movement. She ducked to peer between a pair of cars. A train moved on the far tracks, slow but gaining speed. White numbers labeled each car, designating the contents, but there, near the bottom left, was the number 221.

  “That’s it! That’s our train!”

  “What?” Okane leaned in beside her. “Can we still get on?”

  “We can damn well try! Come on!”

  Laura dashed away, following the train’s movement. She tracked their target in the short glimpses between cars. Numbers, numbers, slate-gray cars, startled worker.

  “Hey!”

  Laura cursed and sped up. The worker jumped out of his freight car and waved his arms, shouting, “We’ve got trespassers in the yard!”

  Finally they reached the smoking engine. They leapt over the rails in front of the pilot and made for the other line. Another worker made a halfhearted grab at them but missed. A clattering rose to the right, a chorus of voices demanding directions to the trespassers. The first rail yard policeman appeared around another still car, baton raised.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.

  He didn’t wait for a reply, but swung the club at Laura. She sidestepped it easily, but had to jump away from another whistling truncheon as a second man came to join the first. She wrenched on her goggles and slung a flash bomb at the ground. It burst with a solitary crack and blaze of white light, instantly blinding the men. They stumbled back and tripped over themselves, swearing profusely. Laura’s eyes watered behind the goggles, but her vision was clear enough. She had to get away before that commotion brought more of them.

  Another train blocked them from the 221, this one moving in the opposite direction. With a loud pop, Okane jumped and vanished between the running cars. Laura gritted her teeth and slapped at her amulet. With its influence she grew faster. She tracked the cars, the timing, and leapt. Unfortunately, the amulets didn’t carry her all the way through. Two-thirds across the gap, she lost momentum and grabbed wildly at the balcony rail. It crashed into her ribs fast enough to knock some of the wind out of her, and she slumped. Her feet dropped, and, horrified, she cried, “Up!” The amulets reacted with a searing heat and slight hiccuping sound, jerking her legs back up with force enough to almost dislodge her. She gathered her legs under her and jumped again, this time clearing the cars entirely before hitting the ground. She scrambled up, shaking to dislodge the gravel and wincing at the sting in her hands.

  Shouting from more rail yard police registered in her ringing ears. She struggled up, and halfway through the motion a set of hands caught and steadied her. She looked up sharply, but met silver eyes and forced herself to relax.

  “We’re almost there,” Okane told her.

  They kept on, crossing two more sets of tracks. In front of them, Train 221 picked up speed on its amulet-enhanced wheels. Once it reached full acceleration they’d have no chance to board. But there, to Laura’s astonishment, she saw their opening. One of the boxcars hadn’t been properly latched. Two in the oncoming line had their sliding doors thrown wide open, showing off the crates and luggage inside. If this was some kind of trap, Laura didn’t know and didn’t care.

  “There!” She pointed, catching Okane’s attention. “Aim for the first car.”

  They sprinted. Laura activated her amulets again, this time with clear instruction, and to her relief they made no unusual reaction. Again Okane made the jump first, but she followed close and matched his flight. They fell through the open doorway, landing hard on the floor of the car before scrambling about. Laura leaned her head out of the door and spotted a pack of rail yard police behind them. The men had come in after the other train’s passing, and now looked around wildly in search of their targets. She pulled another flash bomb from her bag and tossed it as their car passed another stretch of still trains. The bomb hit a coupling and bounced, flashing in the air. Laura pulled back out of sight as the police whirled around.

  “That should distract them until we’re out of the yard.”

  Together they heaved the door shut and locked it. The sounds of shouting men fell behind, and soon the only noise was that of the train and the wind rushing faster and faster against its sides. The noise warped, and all lights went out. Okane made a startled noise, but she found his shoulder and patted it reassuringly.

  “Don’t worry. We’re going out the gates.”

  Before long the darkness lifted, and sunlight peeked in again. The train gave a shrill whistle, and it was off into the wilds.

  They settled against the opposite side of the boxcar, in the shadow of two crates and a mailbag. Laura rested one elbow on the rough beige fabric, likely crushing a decent amount of envelopes with the motion. The floor rattled beneath them, light flickering in the gaps between boards in the sides. Cool air ran in, stunted, to chill the space. Laura shivered and drew up her legs to salvage as much warmth as possible.

  “We made it,” Okane sighed, slumping against the wall as his eyes slipped closed. “For a moment there, I thought we wouldn’t.”

  “Yeah. That was a scare.”

  The entire day had been one scare after another. It all crashed down on her, now that her body had stopped moving. She rubbed at her left temple, trying to ease the sudden ache there. Something brushed her free hand, and she realized what it was a second before she looked down to see Okane entwining their fingers. He didn’t look at her, just stared straight ahead. She tightened her grip and kept massaging her head. After a while, Okane heaved a sigh and tilted his head so it rested against hers.

  Over time, they settled into a lull. Laura might have drifted off entirely, but the rattle of the train remained constant. How much time passed she had no idea, but night had descended by the time Laura heard the noise. Over the clat
ter of the cars came a lower thunk, the ring of approaching footsteps. Laura straightened immediately, dislodging Okane as she did. He jerked back into awareness.

  “Laura? What’s wrong?”

  “Do you hear that? I think people are coming in here.”

  They paused. A muffled noise reached their ears, and Laura recognized it as the opening of train doors. Cursing, she pulled mailbags down over them for better cover.

  “Don’t let them see you!” she hissed. “They throw hobos off the train while it’s moving!”

  There was no more time to speak before the door to their car opened. Voices rose above the din, loud enough to be heard but not loud enough to be understood. Laura tensed as they approached.

  “—don’t get it,” one of the people was saying. “I mean, if we just—”

  “The powers that be have decided it’s a bad idea,” the second person sighed.

  “But isn’t that where we need to concentrate our powers most?”

  “You’d think, but we’re not welcome there anymore.”

  A heeled boot came to a stop in front of the mailbags. Laura could see it through their faulty shelter, and her eyes slowly trailed up, taking in the owner. The woman before them was very tall, skin dark and slick black hair tied back in a bun so tight it must’ve hurt. She wore a dark blue uniform and matching frock coat lined in black with thin silver piping; a few badges caught the dim light on her chest, but the thick belt she wore, covered in bags and pockets and, closest to them, a holster with a revolver, had Laura preoccupied. If train workers weren’t averse to throwing people off of speeding trains, would they be willing to shoot stowaways on top of that?

  “Not welcome?” echoed the other person, a younger boy with blond hair and the same uniform, as he picked his way through the car.

  “Rex seems to think they’ve got it covered. Litus isn’t pleased, but there’s nothing we can do when the entirety of that army is standing in the way and ripping up tracks. This will probably be the last trip to Litus for a long time,” the woman replied.

  “How long? I mean, the city can support itself for a while, but if it’s really cut off from the rest, couldn’t that make it another Thrax?”

  The woman hummed, leaning against the stack of crates. Okane leaned away from her, and Laura dug her nails into his hand to remind him not to move. They didn’t know if these were train workers. What if they were vigilante types roaming the train in search of entertainment?

  “I don’t think Rex is after them right now. They’re pumped up about something, sure enough, but would they really make it so obvious if they’re trying to bring down another city? Even they know they’d get enormous backlash if anyone gets wind of it. They’d lie low, not boast. They only have the right to boast if they see their scheme through to the end. Isn’t that right, you cheat?”

  The woman’s voice changed to a harsh snap at the end, and she yanked Okane up by the collar. Laura sprang up after him, whipping an Egg out of her bag. The woman yanked her gun from the holster while her cohort fumbled at his belt; luckily whatever gun he might’ve had was missing. For a moment, everyone froze.

  “Let go of him,” Laura hissed.

  “Put that down,” said the woman.

  “Not until you let him go.”

  The woman’s eyes narrowed, flicking from Laura’s face to the Egg in her hand. “Who are you?”

  “We’re Sweepers,” Laura spat. “So you hurt a hair on his head and you’ll be in deep shit.”

  “Sweepers?” the woman scoffed. “If you were Sweepers, you’d be in the passenger cars, not skulking in the baggage.”

  “Says who? It’s none of your business what we’re here for!”

  “It is, actually.”

  “Who are you supposed to be, Sweeper police?”

  “ERA Sweeper, so yes,” the woman replied tersely. “Give me your names and tell me exactly what you’re doing here.”

  Laura kept her mouth shut. ERA Sweeper? That explained the uniform, but from what she could remember, Eastern Rail Alliance Sweepers operated on a different authority than city Sweepers did; their interactions were few and far between, with no head Sweepers on the train lines, only railway officials to call the shots. She didn’t feel comfortable sharing any information with these people.

  “Um,” Okane piped up. “Is it just that - - - need IDs? Because we do have those.” To emphasize this he held up his right hand to show off his ring.

  “What’s that supposed to be?”

  “It’s our Sweeper ID. Amicae uses rings.”

  “Amicae? Are you Sinclair Sweepers?”

  In the background, the boy perked up. “Sinclair? Like Clae Sinclair?”

  “What’s it to you?” Laura demanded.

  The woman let go of Okane, and he took a step back toward Laura. She held up her gun in a surrendering motion, and made a big deal of putting it away.

  “Sorry about that,” she said. “We’ve had problems with hobos claiming Sweeper status in the past. Can I see that a little more closely?”

  Scowling, Laura pushed past Okane and held out her own hand. The woman leaned closer and smiled at the little inscription on the ring.

  “Sinclair Sweepers of Amicae, right?” She drew back. “Clae had one of those, too. Easy enough to recognize.”

  “- - - knew Clae?”

  “Kind of.” The woman smiled ruefully. “I met him a long time ago. Did he ever tell you about the time he got called out into the wilds and roughed up a pack of Rexians? I was there.”

  “And you’re…?”

  “Keya Mallick. This is my assistant. I suppose you’d call him an apprentice? Felix Ayers.”

  Felix gave them a choppy, nervous wave. Still suspicious, Laura returned the Egg to her bag. Keya seemed heartened by the motion.

  “I heard about Clae taking apprentices. What’s your name, then?”

  “Laura Kramer.” She stated her name flat and proud. If Keya knew anything about Clae and his apprentices, she probably knew their names already. There was no point lying.

  “I’m Okane Sinclair,” Okane added, not so forcefully.

  Felix bobbed twice in excitement before realizing his actions and forcing himself to stop. Keya laughed.

  “So there’s still a Sinclair left?”

  Okane gave a halfhearted shrug. In any case the name seemed to have won the others’ trust, as Keya beckoned them to follow her.

  “Let’s get somewhere more comfortable. Can’t leave such esteemed guests shivering in the baggage car, can we? Come on. We can get you something to drink while we’re at it.”

  Laura and Okane shared a glance. Laura didn’t trust these strangers as far as she could throw them, but what choice did they have?

  Keya led them back the way she’d come, forward through the train. Two cars up, the dim light illuminated a car painted much darker than its neighbors. The door was labeled ERA: SWEEP DIV.

  “This is our car,” Keya called as they crossed over the gap. “ERA cars are spaced along the train. There’s an armed guard up with the passengers, but we’re back in transport. It’s not exactly luxurious, but you can stay with us until we get to Litus.”

  “Thanks,” Laura mumbled.

  Keya either didn’t sense her lack of enthusiasm or ignored it, opening the door to allow them in. The inside of this car was mostly open, though cases and shelves jutted out of the walls to break up space. The open shelves bore Sweeper weapons, mostly bullets and Eggs, while four cots were on the walls, two on each side like bunk beds. In the middle of the room sat what looked like a small iron stove on stubby feet, flames flickering behind its grille. A wrinkled woman in uniform squatted near it. She looked up at their arrival to smile, showing off a wide gap in her teeth.

  “Hey, Darcy,” Keya greeted. “Guests, this is Darcy. She’s a Sweeper too. No last name. Darcy, these two are from Sinclair Sweepers.”

  “As in Clae Sinclair,” Felix added helpfully.

  Darcy said nothing, just spread
her lips wider.

  “Darcy hasn’t spoken a word in all the time we’ve known her,” Keya whispered, before motioning them toward the cots.

  Laura and Okane sat on the lowest bed on the right. Laura barely registered the rough blanket, too busy observing the people and trying to predict what they’d do, how to get away. In her mind she was simply being held prisoner. Politely, but still. At some point she and Okane needed to get off the train to reach Rex and take back their own. Keya pulled off her coat, hanging it and her belt inside one of the closets. That done, she sat on the cot opposite them.

  “Laura and Okane are on their way to Litus in an unorthodox way,” she laughed, patting Darcy on the back.

  “We didn’t have much of a choice,” said Okane.

  Keya leaned back, crossing her legs. “Once we get to Litus I’ll help you sneak out. Sweepers aren’t out to undermine anything. You’re probably the least likely to be terrorists or spies, since you know the current order keeps us all alive. Only Rex is stupid enough to ignore that. I’ll trust whatever mission you’re on.”

  Okane bowed his head. “Thank - - -.”

  Laura played with her fingers for a moment before asking, “What did you mean, when you were talking about Rex earlier?”

  “What, that they’re delusional?”

  “No, that they’re … bragging.”

  “I guess Amicae hasn’t heard. We visit cities that keep close eyes on Rex’s movements, and Amicae’s too far north to hear anything but the biggest news. See, most of Rex’s troops outside the city are like infestations: stupid until they’ve been trained and controlled by a hive mind. When the troops hear something from their commanders, they mirror the news. Bad news? They’re surly. Good news? They swagger. They’re swaggering something fierce. That begs the question, what kind of good news could that be?”

  “Attacking another city?” Laura guessed.

  “If you were listening, you’d know that’s a bad idea. Besides, they’re upping their isolationist policies to the point they’re cutting off the path to Litus. I think they’re setting up another crusade. A big one.”

  “How is that any different from usual?”