“Cities in Zyra have Sweepers doubling as Rangers that stay in the wilds for weeks on end. The Rexian ones pulled back. That means problems for us, since they spanned vast territory and someone has to pick up the slack. But they’re not going back into the city proper. Spies from Canis say Sweepers circled to the southwest. They do that on a smaller scale when they’re preparing for a crusade.”
“And how big, exactly, would this be?”
“Biggest crusade to date. We’ve never seen these numbers congregating.” Keya’s eyes narrowed. “Even small crusades get the hive mind angry. A crusade on this scale could mean backlash enough for every satellite town to go under. Proper cities could go under.”
“Why are they doing this?” said Okane. “Why now?”
“Who knows? Same reason that they’re boasting, I’d guess.”
Laura suspected she knew why. She had no doubt Rex had gotten news of the Falling Infestation, and its accompanying “wrath of god.” As far as she knew there had never been such a large and destructive use of kin before. Newspapers bragged and even Rangers had reported seeing strange light from far out in the wilds, so there was no way it could be covered up. Besides, Clae had said it himself: whatever secret the Sinclairs kept, Rex wanted to use it for their crusades. They would use him to attack the hive mind. But how would they do it? Would they just make kin, or would they try to break him apart, for Gin amulets? The thought made her shudder, and she dug her nails into her palm to distract herself from the thought.
“Whatever it is, it’ll be disastrous for the rest of us.” Keya nodded, taking Laura’s motion to be a different kind of trepidation. “Especially Amicae. How many people are in your Sweeper program?”
“A pitiful amount.” Laura scowled, twisting and wringing her fingers. “The ones left behind are barely capable.”
“Must be an important mission if you have to leave your city vulnerable.”
What Sweepers were left to take care of Amicae? Juliana was incapacitated at the very least, and Lester missing. Amelia had retired over a decade ago. The only functioning Sweepers left were mobsters; hopefully they’d cooperate enough to keep the city safe, rather than pitch in with their rivalries. Without her realizing it, Laura’s fidgeting grew worse, and Okane leaned in so their shoulders bumped, startling her out of her thoughts.
“We didn’t have much choice when we left,” he repeated.
“If this ‘mission’ goes well, we won’t have trouble fighting off infestations,” Laura added.
“Are you getting more people?”
“Retrieving them, I suppose.”
“Grand! If there’s any Sweeper guild I don’t want to die out, it’s the Sinclairs.”
Eventually Keya noticed the time and announced she had to do her rounds of the train. She bid them take two of the beds, donned her coat, and left. Felix lost some of his confidence when she went, so while he still looked excited by their presence he didn’t start a conversation. Darcy beamed and gestured for them to sleep. It was late enough that Laura didn’t mind, so she clambered onto the top cot and settled in. Darcy moved to the iron contraption and ran her hand over the top. It must’ve been amulet-based, as she remained unharmed and the light dimmed to near darkness, only enough to make out shapes. Laura pressed her face into the lumpy pillow and waited for sleep, but wasn’t tired enough and was still paranoid. A while after the others had climbed into bed she heard rustling from below and imagined Okane rolling over.
“So,” he said quietly, “Keya knew Clae?”
Was he talking to Laura? She was about to reply “How should I know,” but someone else answered first.
“She met him a long time ago, but he was still pretty amazing, even then.” Felix didn’t sound the least bit sleepy.
More rustling. Were they sitting up to talk?
“- - - seem to think highly of him.”
“Of course. Some Sweepers become legends after a while, but he was a legend while living!” His giddy tone left no room for lies, and Laura felt a twinge of something bittersweet. “I mean, how many other Sweepers do you hear about that can defend an entire city single-handed? Wasn’t he fifteen when he started, too?”
“He wasn’t entirely alone,” Okane pointed out.
“Mostly, though. Nobody’s ever been able to do as much as he could. He was like a force of nature! He was famous! Anybody who called themselves a Sweeper would want to meet him.”
“He was a workaholic and the bane of the city Council,” said Laura, peering over the edge of the bed. “I think you’re the first people I’ve ever met who seemed excited about him.”
Felix laughed. “Nobody ever said he was supposed to be nice. People always said he was really mean! Keya told us he was rude, too. Doesn’t change the fact he was amazing at his job. He was so good he even intimidated Rexians!”
“I’m not sure ‘intimidated’ is the right word,” Laura sniggered. “Healthy caution, more like. He shot one of them in the knees when they tried to break into our shop. He was kind of trigger-happy now that I think about it.”
“It took - - - this long to realize?” said Okane.
Laura let out a breathy laugh and rolled over to face the ceiling. Her last Egg, the painted one, hummed from inside her bag. What would Clae think about this gossiping, if he could hear it? He’d never seemed very concerned with rumors until they zeroed in on family matters.
“How were you related to him?” Felix asked. “Were you his brother? Cousin?”
“I guess - - - could say I was adopted into the family.”
“Really? That must’ve been so great!”
Okane mumbled something incoherent, but was interrupted as the fourth person in the room made herself known. Darcy rapped her knuckles against the side of her cot. Felix made a guilty sound.
“We can talk in the morning. Sorry, Darcy!”
17
DITCH TIME
The next morning, Keya announced that they were rounding one of the larger mountains and fast approaching Vir. As far as Laura could remember, that meant they were halfway to Rex.
Keya ushered her guests two carriages forward and into the dining car. This car was decorated lavishly with paneled walls and ceiling, expensive multipaneled windows, and some of the fanciest tables and chairs she’d ever seen. Laura sat in a padded chair before a table covered in immaculate white cloth. Okane observed the space with less appreciation and made a point to take up as little space as possible. Darcy and Felix sat across from them, and Keya pulled up another chair.
“We’ve got special permission to bring you here, since you’re guests,” she said, gesturing at their plush surroundings and the other people all dressed to the nines. “Usually ERA workers get slop back in our own car. Hope you don’t mind if we take advantage of you.”
“Doesn’t make a difference to me,” said Laura.
“Good! I’ve been craving something with actual flavor for a while.”
A waiter approached them, pausing by the table to give Keya’s position a disdainful look before facing them properly. “Good morning, esteemed guests. May I bring you a drink? Is there a particular dish you desire?”
“Get me an omelet,” said Keya.
“Would you like a drink to accompany that, ma’am?”
“Coffee.”
“May I have the same?” said Felix, raising his hand as if in a classroom.
Once everyone had ordered, the waiter left. Laura wasn’t concerned with the contents of her breakfast, but Keya talked of nothing else until the meal arrived. As they dug in, she moved on to a new subject.
“To reach Litus, we’ll have to go close to Rex. That’s one of the reasons they’re so adamant about stopping the trains.”
“Really?” Laura’s head jerked up. On maps the train route went close to Rex, but there was no way to tell how close it would be in reality. “How close to Rex is it?”
“You can see it from the tracks.” Keya grimaced. “We only set it up that way because the
other option would be going through the mountains themselves. The railroads may end up having to go through with that anyway. I hope we don’t have to turn around.”
“You think they’ve ripped up the tracks already?” asked Felix.
“There’s no way to be sure right now, but we’ll know in sixteen hours. That’s when we’ll reach the next gatehouse.”
“Gatehouse?” Laura echoed. “What do you mean? They have gates on railroads?”
“Kind of.” Keya laughed. “There are mini stations set along rail lines. Satellite towns and Rangers send news or mail to them, and these span the rails. They’re little castles that the rail companies use as checkpoints. Crews at every gatehouse set up communications and boarding of supplies. Trains rarely stop at them, though. Any news we need to know gets tucked into a special bag that we pick up on the way through. Gatehouses link to telegraph lines, so they should know the situation with Rex and pass word along. If all goes well, we’ll pick up speed and steam past without trouble.”
“And if Rex has ripped up the rails?”
“We may have to retreat back to the gatehouse and sort ourselves.”
Laura had little concern for whether Rex had gone through with their attack on the rails. Either way the train would get close enough to Rex for her to see it, and then she and Okane could jump ship right on the enemy’s doorstep. It would probably be better if the train did stop. Then it would have to slow down, and they could climb off with the excuse that their mission was important enough that they’d have to continue to Litus on foot.
“Will ERA take action? I’ve heard rail companies don’t take well to vandalism,” said Okane, pushing a piece of pancake around his plate and refusing to look at anyone.
“Not with Rex. That’s their territory, after all. We’d have better luck taking down a felin with pebbles.”
“That kind of undermines the rail company’s authority, doesn’t it?” said Laura.
“Yes, until you offer complainers the opportunity to do better.”
“Pardon the intrusion.” Another waiter had arrived, this one older than the last, with a holier-than-thou air about him. “I’ve been asked to inform Miss Mallick that she needs to report to the forward ERA carriage.”
“Great,” Keya groaned, tossing her napkin down on the table. “They’re probably jealous that I got to eat here while they were stuck with slop. I’ll be right there.”
As she disappeared through the door, Laura leaned forward to ask, “Who’s in the forward ERA carriage? Regular troops?”
“Sweepers and bodyguards don’t get along too well,” said Felix. “For some reason we’re always in competition, sort of like police and military inside cities.”
Everyone at the table was more or less done with their food, so they stood and went back toward their own car, Laura asking questions the whole way. She asked about various jobs for ERA members on the trains, how often they came across infestations or animals they had to fight off, what was it like living on the road, what got Felix into Sweeping? Felix was happy enough to answer, while Darcy and Okane followed in silence. Darcy had a good-natured expression on her face, and Okane perked up now that they were out of the dining car. He paid still more attention at Laura’s next question.
Felix had just finished explaining a family history of railroad involvement when she asked, “Have you ever seen hobos?”
“Sure I have! My grandpa was a bull, after all.”
“A what?”
“Railroad policeman. He’d track down hobos and throw them out, maybe drag them off to jail. He was always mean about it, so I feel guilty whenever I see one myself. Most times I just let them be. Pretend I didn’t see them.” He twiddled his thumbs, embarrassed.
“I’ve always been curious,” said Laura. “How do hobos get on and off the trains? They make it look easy in films, but it can’t be.”
“They don’t all make it.” Felix shuddered. “That’s one of the reasons my grandpa said he was so angry about hobos in the first place. Most of the hobos you see doing it these days are pretty old, since inexperienced ones die young.”
Judging by that reaction, Felix had witnessed a few of these young deaths. Laura felt bad to keep pushing a sensitive subject, but it was vital information. She waited a moment, then, “So there’s a trick to it?”
“They tend to work the same ways. I’ve never seen one get on. They’re really secretive on the way in, but I think they look for open doors.”
Just like we did, Laura thought.
“Getting off is tricky too. Most hobos hop off just inside the walls of the city and run before they reach the rail yard and the bulls. By that time the train has slowed a little, but not by a lot. They’ve got to wait until it slows, then they get on the outside of one of the cars and hang on to the ladder.” He mimed clinging to the rungs. “Then they drop down and start running on the ground. When they get the hang of it, they let go, and they’re out safe. I’ve seen a few literally jump, though! Wait till the train slows, pick a soft-looking spot, and jump out and try to roll when they hit the ground. They rip themselves up most of the time, though. I saw one die that way before, too. Keya said he broke his neck. Jumpers usually break bones.”
Laura grimaced. “Remind me never to jump off a train.”
“Can’t see why you’d need to. Sweepers get special privileges, after all. You’re not going to get tossed in the slammer by a bull.”
Laura and Okane lingered in the Sweeper car for the rest of the day. Keya returned, complaining. Apparently they’d scolded her for invading the dining car (the invitation had only been for actual guests), and made the demand that the Sinclair Sweepers be kept out of the way. She and Felix were assigned extra rounds, so they slouched off; Darcy remained, smiling blithely and tapping out a tune with one foot as she knitted something lumpy and green. Laura spent her day bored and restless, trying to sleep; she hoped that maybe, if she napped enough, she’d store away enough energy to go a few days without it when they reached Rex. Okane stretched out on his own bed, but it was impossible to tell if he was sleeping.
Keya and Felix passed through the car occasionally, but it was only during the night that they gave more than a tired greeting. The lights had dimmed down by this time, Darcy snoring away, when the door swung open. Light flooded in from the lamps outside, silhouetting Felix’s small frame.
“Hey!” he whispered loudly. “You’ve got to come see!”
Laura squinted at him, leaning over the side of her bunk, and he looked up at her, the dim light illuminating his excitement as he hissed, “We’re coming up on the gatehouse! It’s hard to see at night, but it’s still amazing! Most passengers never pay enough attention to notice.”
Curiosity lured Laura out of bed. She and Okane followed him out to crowd the platform. The train was turning to avoid the foothills of the mountains. The peaks couldn’t be seen from here, but Laura remembered the map—why else would they be turning on the flatland? Few landmarks could be seen in the light of the train, but midnight darkness couldn’t disguise the building before them. The rails were built atop a ridge in the landscape, the flatlands rolling down and out to the sides, but in the gloom ahead was a structure of stacked rock, rising along the ridge and forming a wall beyond. More walls rose in the same fashion, staggered in different heights along the slope, the foundations of a monstrous building. Jutting up to span the tracks was a building not made of stone but seemingly wood, big and dark though light shone through intricate latticed designs on the upper floor. The roof was gabled, wide with four points curving down, out, and up at the tips. A hole ran through the middle, enough for a large train to pass through. While it was difficult to discern any detail, the shape itself was beautiful.
“That’s the gatehouse?” Laura breathed.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” said Okane, leaning to get a better look.
“It was built on the ruins of one of the big native castles,” Felix told them.
“Was it o
ne of the castles they tore down in the wars?” Laura asked, and he nodded.
“I think it burned down, so only the foundation’s left. The rail company likes to use old fortresses as gatehouses if they can, but they rebuild on old sites too. You’d think they’d go with the regular mainland designs, but there are two or three they made like this. They’re all in Zyra, though. It’s nice to look at, isn’t it?”
They continued to watch in amazement as the train approached, and Felix tugged at their clothing, pulling them back into the train’s shelter as they arrived. The train slowed no further but sped through the opening, briefly flooded with light as stone walls flashed past, and then they were out, back into the dark and surrounded by the ruins of the old castle.
“How were we supposed to get any messages like that? That was too fast to hand something over,” said Laura.
“They set up a bag of mail on a wire. We’ve got a hook to grab it on the way through. Whatever messages they wanted us to get, we definitely got it.”
* * *
Laura woke the next morning to the sound of someone tripping over the little oven. Felix looked up sheepishly to apologize. Keya was already gone, talking with the other ERA workers about information they’d gotten from the gatehouse. Judging by the fact that the train didn’t slow, the attack on the rails must not have come to fruition. Felix went off to do his job, and Laura climbed down to the floor.
“Hey.” She tapped the side of Okane’s mattress. “You up? We should get breakfast.”
The blanket shifted and he peeked out from under his pillow, eyes clear. He’d been awake for a while.
“I don’t want to go there again,” he announced, before pulling the pillow down again.
“What? Why not? You didn’t like the food?”
“I didn’t like the atmosphere.”
Laura knelt down a little further and whispered, “Too Sullivan for you?”
The brief movement of bedding wasn’t exactly clear but she got the message. She turned to face the last of the other Sweepers; Darcy reorganized something in the closet.
The Monstrous Citadel Page 27