◆◆◆
The windows are glowing. I look out and see streaks of red and black on the walls of the tunnel; we are moving so fast I can’t make anything of it.
“The earth is liquid here,” Alexsi tells me.
“What?”
He nods at the walls outside the train. “Liquid fire and melted rock. My mother told me before I got on the train to Winter City; she told me not to be frightened. The world has layers, and this layer is hot and liquid. She told me it wouldn’t burn me, that the train’s magic would protect me.” We both reach out and touch the window; it isn’t hot. I’m grateful for magic in a way that I haven’t been before.
“The Arid Lands above us are hot; she says the fire is closer to the surface there, and that’s why nothing grows. We must be in the heart of the Arid Lands now.” The bubbling liquid is beautiful as it streams past our window and we watch it in silence for a time.
Hours pass and then the liquid fire is gone. I imagine I see a glittering black before everything outside the train is dark again. A short time later thin shades come down to cover the windows inside the train. I reach out to touch them, curious, and a small shock bites into my fingers.
“This part is dangerous,” Alexsi says next to me in a quiet voice.
“Why?” Zair asks. He’s scratching his arms.
Alexsi gets up and feeds more magic, a lot more magic, into the fuel box.
“I don’t know, but you can feel the magic, can’t you?”
Zair stops scratching. His hair is standing up, the fine ash-blond strands lifting but not moving. It’s unnerving.
“Is that what this is?” Zair looks uncomfortable and it’s clearly an act of will not to keep scratching.
Alexsi adds more bulbs. “Yeah. Loose magic. The train is burning through the fuel, shielding us from something out there; something it doesn’t want us to see.” He indicates the shades over the windows. I’m ready for this train ride to end; now that I’ve been on the Night Train I have an even harder time believing Alexsi’s parents sent him on it by himself.
Hours pass and then we are finally through this section. We all relax when the shades come up. Alexsi and Zair stop looking like they want to claw off their own skin; for once I’m glad I can’t use magic, can’t sense it. It looked like torture for them.
I finally sleep and when I wake the train is slowing down. The three of us hurriedly take turns in the bathroom freshening up and then we run to the compartment that has our bags. We’re running through almost a mile of train after sitting for three days and it feels great, other than my heart pounding from the worry that we might not make it. The windows are getting lighter as we race forward and the train keeps slowing and we make it to our compartment just as the train comes to a complete stop and full daylight, the light of both suns, is coming through the windows.
The doors open and fresh clean air, hot from the suns, hits me in the face. I grab my bag and step out into the Forest of Nevel.
CHAPTER 15
The Night Train leaves us on the edges of a town. The train platform here is made of wooden planks and dust floats in the air. Passersby stare at us curiously as we emerge, disheveled and sweaty, from the train. I try to take everything in but after the quiet and isolation of the train even a handful of strangers feels like too many. I turn to look back at the train.
“They don’t see it often,” Alexsi explains. “The Night Train has its own schedule and rarely stops here unless commanded by one of the Queens.”
The matte black train idles for a second more and then the doors close and it sinks back underground. Only our compartment had fully come to the surface, creating the illusion that the train was a sinuous winding creature curving up to the surface before diving below again. The ground is completely unmarked now, showing no signs the train had ever been there. I’d been riding on it for days and I can hardly believe it was real.
I take a few deep breaths to calm myself and then I look around again. It feels good to be on the surface; I’d left the city below weeks ago, and since then I’d been in the City in the Sky, on an airship, and then in the Winter City. We’d been at the top of a mountain, shielded from the elements entirely, and then underground. Here on the surface, with the fresh air and the natural light of the suns, sweating in my leathers, I finally feel like myself again.
Zair looks at my clothes but doesn’t say anything.
“Alexsi, how do we get to your family?” I ask.
He is looking around too, but searchingly, as if expecting someone to be here.
“I guess we go to them,” he says. “I’d hoped they would meet us here but I’m sure they’re busy.”
He looks around one last time and then shrugs. “Let’s find an inn and get cleaned up before we set out. I need something more modern than those showers on the train; I’m ready for a proper bath and a meal cooked by someone who knows what they’re doing.”
He starts walking down a hard-packed dirt road and Zair and I scramble to catch up. I’m confused. “What do you mean before we set out? Aren’t we here?”
He keeps walking and doesn’t look at me. “This isn’t the Forest, Alinya, this is just a border town. The Arid Lands are that way,” he waves to our right, “and the Forest is the other. The train can’t take us into the Forest itself; it’s not allowed. We have to walk the rest of the way.” I chew on my lip impatiently but it’s no use arguing; I want to start walking now but Alexsi is upset and Zair will go along with him. I don’t know why I’m in such a hurry but I feel like there’s no time for baths and more food. Why do the princes eat so much?
I change my mind when we find the inn. It is large but not opulent; it’s made of wood and stone and reminds me of my guild house. When we walk in I immediately smell fresh baked bread and stew and beer. The smells are comforting and for a moment I pretend I am home.
“This will do,” Alexsi decides and Zair goes to haggle with the innkeeper. He trades coins and a small red stone for three keys and comes back over to us, shifting his travelsack from one shoulder to the other.
“I got us three rooms so we don’t have to take turns bathing,” he says, tossing each of us a key. “They’ll bring up food in an hour. After that we’ll head out.”
Alexsi makes a noise as we follow Zair to our rooms. Zair looks at him with a compassionate but firm expression.
“I know you don’t want to see them, Alexsi, but we can only drag this out so long. I’ve got a price on my head and so does Alinya; we can’t afford to dawdle in this border town. You’re going to have to face your family at some point and I don’t want to get killed because you don’t want to go home.”
Alexsi stares at Zair coldly and then goes into his room and shuts his door. I look at Zair with a newfound respect. The irresponsible Prince has more sides to him than I expected.
“I really hope the Undying can actually help us,” he says to me, and then turns and goes into his room as well. I hear both of them lock their doors. My room is across the hall from theirs; I can’t help but notice, as I go into mine and lock my door too, that I’ve got windows, which means the princes are in interior rooms. This helps me feel somewhat better about the fact that they are out of my line of sight and we still don’t know who killed the wizard on the train.
◆◆◆
Alexsi was right about the bath. I soak in the giant tub and feel cleaner than I have since we left the Winter palace. Zair must have paid extra for a water spell because the tub was full of hot, soapy water when I walked in. By the time I get out of the tub the water is dingy and cooling and I’m sure there’s a ring of dirt around the tub as well. I towel off and dress in the bathroom because I’m pretty sure there’s someone in my room.
When I open the bathroom door I’m not disappointed. The Old Master is sitting at the desk in the room and he has a box with him. I try not to let the box distract me but of course I’m curious about it; knowing the Old Master, it could contain anything, from the macabre to the frivolous. I st
and in the doorway and take him in, from his brown-gray robe to his shaved head to his nondescript face that no one would remember. His is our best assassin and I bow, happy to see him.
He stands and bows as well, surprising me. I did not kill the prince; I have failed my test and I do not deserve this mark of respect. He holds out his arms and I hesitate for only a moment before running and hugging him.
“Mija,” he says, and strokes my hair.
“Old man,” I whisper back disrespectfully, and he laughs.
We sit on the bed and open the steaming tray of food I found sitting by the door. There is enough food for both of us; there is enough even to feed the princes.
The Master picks daintily at his food, as he always has.
“Did you kill the wizard on the train?” I ask, and he nods. I’m impressed. Not that he was able to conceal himself from us; at his level, he could kill me now and I wouldn’t see it coming. But to kill a wizard, that’s some next-level assassin business.
“Why so splashy?” I wonder.
“The commission requested it, of course,” he answers, blowing on the stew to cool it. I don’t ask who requested the kill but he tells me anyway.
“The Joker requested it.”
We chew on the food for a few minutes, and then I ask.
“Did he appear to you in a dream?”
The Master pauses, then continues dipping his spoon into the stew to fish out the vegetables. The stew is good; the broth is a golden brown curry.
“Have you seen him too, my child?” he asks me.
“He came to me in the Winter City, and he left me a note on the airship,” I tell him. There is no use hiding anything from the Master, and I find that I don’t want to. If he were here to kill me I’d be dead already, which means he is probably - mostly - on my side. Until the Joker tells him to kill me.
“He rarely appears even to the masters, so that is very interesting indeed,” he comments. “He used to visit us more frequently, according to the records, but in recent centuries most commissions come from the Priestess.”
“I wonder why he is appearing more.”
He shrugs. “The Joker sometimes sets things in motion. We think of what we do as stopping certain people, or events, but on some rare occasions, a death - or an attempt at one - can be as much about starting something instead.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t kill the prince,” I say. “I mean, we are friends now, so I’m glad I didn’t, but, failing wasn’t…” I trail off, not knowing how to say what I’m feeling.
“You didn’t fail me, child,” he says gently. I blink back tears.
“I didn’t?”
“No. You were trained by me; if you were meant to kill him, he’d be dead. Although I did tell you not to look into his eyes,” he reminds me.
“Thanks for that,” I try not to sound sarcastic, but as warnings go it had been pretty weak. Then I have to ask.
“Are you here to kill me?”
“No. Your life is safe with us; you’ve gone beyond guild laws, and your fate is with the gods now. The Priestess is not acting as the Voice right now, she is acting on her own, and whatever happens now is on her conscience.”
“Was she acting on her own when she ordered the Prince killed?”
“No, that order came from The Joker. He told me she petitioned for the Prince’s death, and he agreed for his own reasons.”
“So Zair and I are safe now,” I say wonderingly, relieved that my own Guild isn’t trying to kill us. The Old Master laughs.
“Far from it,” he says, shaking his head and drinking a cup of tea from the tray. “The Priestess would very much like to kill you, and you are clearly embroiled in some plot concocted by the Joker. But the Guild will not act against you or the Prince; we have broken from the Priestess until this is settled. We will only act on messages that come directly from the Gods.”
“Like killing the wizard on the train.”
“Like killing the wizard on the train,” he agrees, and then picks up the box and sets it in front of me. I open at it and look at the contents, blinking slowly.
My sharpening stones. My extra throwing knives. Poisons. Spells. Smoke spells; confusion spells; concealment spells; another transport spell. I look at the Master and tilt my head.
“This spell is rare and special. It will take you anywhere; just release the spell and say the name of where you want to go and you will be there. It can even take you through magical barriers,” he says, and I don’t pay enough attention to that part. The box has energy spells and elixirs to dissolve goo and other ones to create goo and there, on the bottom, is a tiny bundle of spidersilk. It’s a Master assassin’s kit like no other and I am touched beyond words that he has brought it to me.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my heart in my throat. He pats me on the head.
“Do you know what the Joker wanted from the wizard’s death?” he asks me, prompting me to think.
I shake my head and then stop. “Oh crap. There was a crate of books, and then we found -” he hold up a hand to stop me. I can’t believe we left the books on the train. We need those for The Undying.
“I don’t want to know. I just want to make sure you know why a man had to die. Every death should have meaning.”
I nod, still upset about the books. “We need those books. The Night Train is gone.” My mind is awhirl, trying to figure out how to call the Train back if only the Queens have that power.
“I have one more gift for you, child.”
He takes the box back and turns it upside down. This time, when I open it, the box has the crate of books nestled inside it. A crate that is more than ten times larger than the box I’m holding in my hands.
“Magic,” he says in a stage whisper, and cascades his hands theatrically. I laugh, delighted.
◆◆◆
The Old Master is gone by the time the boys emerge from their rooms. We are all refreshed by our baths, some food, and in my case, a visit from my old teacher. The box is in my travelsack and Alexsi isn’t talking to Zair so of course Zair has to make it worse by flirting with me as we leave the inn. I roll my eyes and toss my key at the innkeeper, refusing to be drawn into some ridiculous love triangle with these two beautiful guys who are clearly meant for each other, even if they do sometimes forget.
Alexsi walks out in front, leading us even as he refuses to speak to either of us. Zair is sulking with the affronted injustice of one who knows he is right but who hurts anyway, while Alexsi is wrapped in the anger of one who knows he is wrong and is therefore aflame with righteous indignation.
Meanwhile I am walking jauntily along, carefree because for once I have everything I need. I have the books; I have the best assassin’s kit outside of the guild hall; I have the implicit support of my Guild; and I have a transport spell that can take me anywhere I want. I also have two sulking princes but I am sure they will sort things out.
Knowing the Guild isn’t trying to kill me has freed me from a weight I didn’t realize I was carrying and I might float away, I’m so light. The town is bustling now that the suns are lower in the sky and the day is cooling, amber-eyed townspeople moving around with their shopping and laundry and all the things that are better while the heat is fading. This town is hotter than where I’m from and the suns are different and the people look less desperate; there are no mines here. I don’t see children sweating in the fields. The children here are playing ball, not hiding, not slaves. This is the future I want for my people.
Alexsi’s path leads us past the shops and small houses and the platform where the train dropped us off and into the trees at last. The trees are towering, so tall that no island could float over them here, so high that we cannot see their tops. There are more kinds of trees than I ever imagined; on the edge of the forest they have brown trunks and green needles. The further in we go the more we see; silver trunks with peeling bark and gray leaves; red trunks that smell like cinnamon with green needles; some have flowers shaped like bells that sing in th
e breeze.
The branches twine above us, making a canopy of boughs, thick enough that a sure-footed assassin could walk across them. Here, instead of assassins, there are forest creatures with large ears and glowing eyes and long gripping tails that climb and glide and cling to the arboreal wonderland above us. There are birds of all colors and butterflies larger than my head and, in the dark places, moths with furred wings.
Tiny stick-like people cling to the sides of the trees, their wings opening and closing lazily as they watch us walk. Their tiny fingers spin invisible threads into spidersilk. I’ve walked into an enchanted land.
Cat-like creatures, nine inches long and with round pink ears, smile at us and chitter to each other and climb along the boughs, chasing moths. Redcaps grow at the base of the trees and I wonder why the path is so well-worn. What reason do the townspeople have to go into the forest? The path is here and there are leaves on it but it is not overgrown at all. Zair has caught up to Alexsi and he is whispering to him. Just when I think everything is going to be ok between them a woman steps onto the path and she only has eyes for Alexsi.
“Stop,” she commands, her voice like water over rocks, and we do. She has a bow slung over her right shoulder and she’s paring an apple with a knife. She tosses a piece to Alexsi and smiles, all fangs like one of the cats, and says with a smirk, “Welcome back, my love.”
◆◆◆
Alexsi looks like he’s in shock. After her rather dramatic greeting she’d walked over and kissed him deeply, holding his head and letting it go on long enough that Zair looked murderous and I started thinking about using a transport spell to get away from the clearly incipient violence.
Now the four of us are walking together and she’s doing all the talking, and everything she says is edged like one of my blades. “Alexsi and I are betrothed, you know,” she confides to us and the forest and the wind. “But he left and has only now returned. Why is that, Alexsi?” she asks, and I want to tell him not to answer because her question has sharp hooks in it, but he must already know because he says nothing. She looks bemused and falls silent for a moment, before continuing by telling him, as far as I can tell, literally every single thing that has happened since he left.
Empire of Sky Page 10