by John Mangold
As Nia let her statement hang in the air, pointedly glancing over her shoulder at Maluem, it seemed apparent the woman was probing her companion for a conclusion to this theory.
“The wilderness hides many mysteries, I am sure,” Maluem replied casually. She had no desire to go into her past adventure, nor any wish to ponder its cost.
Nia stopped suddenly before a metal ladder leading from the floor up to a portal in the ceiling. At its base sat a satchel with a drawstring around its top. Spreading it open, Nia produced an impressive array of clothing, including a heavy leather greatcoat, a thick belt with metal bands about it, tan trousers with large pockets on the thighs, and a matching blouse with military insignia sewed on the lapels. Nia produced two metal shod boots that came up to just below Maluem’s knees, finishing the uniform. Maluem could not help but feel she had seen clothes by the same tailor, perhaps on that pathetic Bounty Hunter named Deuce?
The clothing seemed odd, but once Maluem began to put it on, she found the attire surprisingly comfortable. The blouse had small, firm plates sewn in that settled in strategic points around her chest, waist, and back. Having studied a bit of fencing, Maluem knew these were placed to stop critical strikes or slow them down. Still, as soft and light as they felt, it was hard to believe they would stop much. A sturdy belt sat high around her waist, synching in the blouse and trousers to give proper form to the outfit. Once the greatcoat was in place, Maluem had to admit the effect was pleasing, even if the cloth was heavily worn and stained.
“That is a standard military uniform of the Santilis Ground Forces,” Nia explained. “If memory serves, it should bear the rank of a lower echelon officer, Third Lieutenant, I think. I bartered it from a shopkeeper. We get so many military burnouts from up north it isn’t hard to come upon them, and no one will look twice at you for wearing it. Considering the low popularity of the war up north, you will be as good as invisible in that!”
As Maluem strapped the collar to the thick belt and slung the concealed staff across her back, Nia spoke again.
“Well, not so much with all that on you, but I guess it can’t be helped. That staff certainly won’t fit in the bag. Hopefully, any passerby will think you are a wandering explorer.”
Nia removed some clothes for herself from her overstuffed luggage and quickly stowed her medical gear. From the appearance of the outfit she wore, it was also of the Santilis military. However, a great deal of tailoring had gone into hers. The suit's general form had been changed, and all types of insignia had been cleverly removed. From this, Maluem could tell Nia was a frugal woman, not given to wasting good material. To a woman accustomed to doing without for many years, Maluem took this to be a good sign.
Once Nia and Maluem were fully dressed, Nia confronted the ladder once more. Cautiously she climbed up it, slowly lifting the small metal lid that capped it. As the portal opened, Maluem could hear a stream of the mechanical sounds that had floated into the Infirmary’s courtyard the day before. But now, those sounds were much louder, as though their thundering source stood just above them. Suddenly, the tunnel trembled as though an avalanche was passing overhead, causing a shower of dust to tumble down. Maluem knew not what inhabited the grounds above them, but she was beginning to doubt she wanted to find out.
Nia slipped through the small opening and then motioned for Maluem to follow. Climbing through, she found that they had come up through the floor of a small storage chamber. This chamber's surface was made of a strange, smooth stone that appeared to have few seems, as though it had been poured in place. The room itself was cluttered with large metal framed carts with wood flooring. Most were stuffed to overflowing with crates and bags, much like Nia’s.
These carts rested on great metal wheels that pivoted on their mounts, making them relatively easy to move, if somewhat noisy. Following Nia’s lead, Maluem crept carefully through the darkened room to a half-opened door on the other side of the chamber. Slowly, Nia poked her head through the slender opening, holding her hand out against Maluem’s chest to hold her back for a moment.
As Nia began to motion her to follow, Maluem grasped the scruff of Nia’s jacket, pulling the doctor back into the storage room.
“Nia, I need to ask you something before we proceed. What were those ‘pills’ you gave me? Will they affect my ability to cast?”
A look of deep thought crossed Nia’s face as she considered Maluem. As the silence drew out, Maluem began to lose confidence that Nia would ever reply. She was about to ask again, emphasizing her need to know immediately, when Nia broke the tense silence.
“No, Maluem, in fact, casting should be much easier for you now,” Nia said with a slight blush. “Those pills were the antidote to the restraining drug I placed in your food. That is why you felt woozy any time you tried to cast. Couldn’t you tell? From the way you reacted to my touch, I believed you were beginning to suspect. I’m sorry, Maluem, I had to be careful. You understand it was for the safety of my other patients. Now, come on. We can discuss all this on the rail. We have to move quickly if we’re going to catch the Mainline!”
Maluem hardly had time to protest. Nia had grabbed her sleeve and dragged her out into the hallway beyond. The crowd was so thick no one noticed the two suddenly appearing out of a random storage room.
“Act Natural,” Nia muttered as she strode before Maluem.
Maluem obeyed, but her mind was hardly on what she was doing or what was going on around her. If she was not so preoccupied, she would have been amazed at the architecture of the building, which was a symphony of brick, plaster, and steel, even if it was heavily stained with soot. She would have noticed the clothes of those around her, which were of such light fabric compared to those of her home country, with seems so precisely cut and sewn that no human hands could have created them. But she noticed none of these things. Her mind was on considerably darker matters. As she walked, her eyes bore so steadily into the back of Nia’s neck that she felt the devious woman had to feel their weight.
Drugged again! Maluem fumed to herself. Dak! What kind of ferd am I? What sort of thick-skulled choat would fall for the same ploy TWICE! And just when I was beginning to trust the woman!
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s not like there was anything you could have done.”
Maluem jerked her head to the side, startled by the sound of the voice. What met her eyes nearly made her trip over her own feet. There, walking alongside her, plain as day, was Volo. Staring at him as she was, she narrowly missed walking straight into a metal post. Glancing quickly around, she tried to find someone looking at her new companion, to verify he was actually there. However, all her fellow travelers seemed to take no notice of him.
“What, no greeting?” Volo pressed.
“You are not here,” Maluem growled. As she returned her attention to Nia’s back.
Volo shot her a confused look before shaking his head and continuing as though she hadn’t spoken.
“This place really is amazing! You should look around!”
“You are not here! You are just a side effect of the drugs that skrite gave me. When I get the chance, I am going to thump her so good-”
“Maluem, you really shouldn’t talk like that,” Volo chided. “I mean, skrite? From what I’ve gathered so far, that is pretty vulgar. You never used such words before!”
“Shut up! You are dead and-”
“Maluem, don’t start with that again,” Volo interrupted, shaking his head once more. “I know I’m not dead. True, I don’t know what happened to me at the river. I seem to have lost a bit of my memory, and I get tired very easily now. Kind of like that other night, when I visited you in your bed. I suddenly felt exhausted, and then you couldn’t see me or hear my voice no matter how loudly I shouted-”
“Sounds interesting. Perhaps a demonstration is in order,” Maluem put in at his pause. When there was no reply, she chanced a quick sidelong glance to find Volo was nowhere to be seen.
“Hmph!” Maluem snorted wi
th a satisfied smirk. “I wish I had thought of that before!”
A loud hiss exploded from an enormous mass of cogs and wheels beside Maluem, startling her so much that she nearly leaped from the narrow walkway Nia had led her down. Instantaneously she found herself surrounded by an impenetrable cloud of hot steam. The air grew slightly colder as, with a wave of her hand, Maluem cast a light force bubble that dispersed the choking fog, clearing the walkway once more. As she lowered her hand, Maluem let out a long sigh of relief.
It would have been trying for Maluem to explain the intense satisfaction she felt at being able to cast once more, without the accompanying wave of nausea. It was as though she had taken her first sip of water after being parched for weeks. Yet the furious look on Nia’s face made her instantaneously regret her action. Glancing around, she noticed a few people throwing very startled stares her way as she closed with the doctor.
Strange, Maluem thought to herself. You would think they had never seen someone cast a spell before!
Hurrying to join Nia, Maluem examined the behemoth of a machine standing right next to them. It was of incredible length, stretching well over one hundred yards. Beside her stood what had to be the head of the beast, standing almost twelve feet high, with a large cylinder at its front that belched plumes of grey steam up into the air through a long, steel smokestack. At the aft end rested a small cabin where the drivers most likely maintained the monstrosity, its interior concealed behind soot encrusted glass.
The whole of the device’s cylindrical skin was covered with odd metal tubing running here and there, along with swirling lines of intricate runes. Maluem had no time to study them, but she would wager that they were a mixture of thermo-spells and containment fields. The complexity of the device was astounding. She silently mused that it must have taken the Sorcerers who constructed it months to complete all those spell burnings.
Looking over the side of the walkway, she realized that the beast rested on two thick steel beams, secured in place by a combination of wood cross beams and irons spikes. This is what Nia must have meant when she mentioned ‘rails’ earlier. Following their lines ahead, she now saw that there was a line of box-shaped ‘carts’ that rested on those same rails, tethered to the aft of the great machine, their bulk defining the body of the beast. Turning her eyes back to the behemoth, she wondered at what power they had harnessed to pull such a tremendous amount of weight. Could they have some form of alchemic reaction going on within that cylinder that propels the thing, or had they somehow managed to yoke the strength of some fire demon?
“Is that what you call blending in?” Nia demanded as Maluem’s approached.
“What do you mean? It was a simple spell, cast to clear the air. Nothing to get in a tizzy about-”
“Understand Maluem,” Nia cut in. “People of this country are not accustomed to seeing Mystic Arts performed in the open. It is something of a back-room practice in these parts. Something left to the privacy of a professional’s office. This is a mindset you will see grow much stronger the farther north you go. Practicing such skills as openly as you just did will end up attracting the attention of people you don’t want to meet.”
“Why would that be? Do they fear those with our gifts? I would think in a nation as advanced as this, they would embrace those blessed with the mystic arts!”
“I wouldn’t say they are frightened, Maluem. They believe themselves slightly above it. They put their faith in what they can do with their own hands. Mystic Arts are more the arena of the professional from out of town. Someone you hire to get your automobile’s engine running when the runes fail. The rest of society is much more interested in such mundane tasks as earning a living wage and feeding their families. They like to believe the world is in their control, and people using magic around them tend to damage that fragile illusion.”
“Automobile engine?” Maluem asked.
“Yes, well, never mind. I can explain that in detail later. For now, just refrain from casting in the open, alright? I intend to get us on this train sans tickets, and I would rather not have an audience. We will have to move quickly, ducking under the carriages and making our way to the cargo cars at the rear, so follow closely. If we are underneath when the train gets moving, well…let’s not dwell on that…”
Maluem opened her mouth to protest, but a piercing whistle erupted behind her, accompanied by another outpouring of steam. Before Maluem could regain her composure, Nia grabbed her sleeve and nearly dragged her over the edge of the platform, dropping down between the structure and the great machine.
The underside was not nearly as clean as the top, caked with soot and mud as it was, but it still fascinated Maluem with its mechanical complexity. A sudden lurch accompanied by a cacophony of clashing steel overhead quickly brought her back to the present, encouraging her to focus solely on following Nia. The rest of the journey was a bit of a blur, with starts, stops, and random bursts of steam, but before Maluem could think of falling behind, the pair emerged on the other side of the Train.
They found themselves standing between two of the fantastic beasts, their bulk forming a narrow alley between. Moving quickly, with heads ducked low to avoid detection from the carriage windows, the two made their way towards the tail of the monstrosity. Maluem could not help but notice that the giant cargo carts had no windows and reeked of animal dung. The first few they came across were heavily laden with goods, leaving little room for freeloading passengers. Nia motioned Maluem on. After a few more false starts, they found an empty vessel. Maluem was just pulling herself up inside when she was halted in mid-motion by an outcry from behind.
“Nia! Wait up a tick!”
“Well, I guess this would not count as casting out in the open,” Maluem muttered to Nia as she dropped back down to the ground. Soft frost began to form on the metal handle on the outside of the Train carriage as she drew power in.
“Hold,” Nia commanded. “That won’t be necessary, just yet.”
Maluem turned to see two forms emerge from a cloud of steam behind them. One was a man of stout build and a confident stride. He stood about six feet tall with brown curly hair and deep brown eyes. His clothes seemed tailored for a hardworking man, with extra fabric on all the joints. His attire seemed well cared for, despite the shadows of many faint stains. In his right hand, he carried an overly sturdy handbag that looked to be designed for tools, and over his right shoulder, he toted a threadbare haversack, no doubt stuffed with similar garments to the ones he was wearing.
Next to him, a slender woman jogged slightly to keep up with his gait. She had luminous flaxen hair and crystal blue eyes that sparkled, even in this dim light. As she moved, her feet barely touched the ground, as though any moment she might break free of gravity itself. Her clothes were sturdy yet of light cut with colors complimenting her eyes. In her right hand, she clutched a bag similar to Nia’s, while in her left, she cradled a finely crafted case, clearly made to protect a specific item. As they drew closer, the woman spoke first, the joy of recognition clearly in her eyes as she looked upon the doctor.
“Nia! How wonderful to see you! Are you heading back north as well? Oh, I do hope so! The long journey would have been so dreary alone. This would be the first good turn of fortune we have had since we arrived!”
“Too true,” The stout man added. “Just our luck, they would shut the border down as soon as we got here. I haven’t found a bit of work in five days. We were figuring on heading back towards the border with Santilis to see if the crossing at Arton was still open. What about you Nia, I figured the military would be holding you here for a month or two, or at least until the inquest was over. Didn’t they find a witness to all that-”
“Yes, I heard that as well,” Nia interrupted. “No telling what really went on, though. You know the military. Keeping it all ‘Need to know basis’ and all that. No, since there doesn’t seem to be many injured, I don’t think they will need my services anymore. I decided to get back to my practice while there s
till might be one to return to.”
“From what I heard, there were no injuries at all, just mangled corpses,” The man continued. “What kind of sick, twisted chud monkey would-”
“I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced you all, have I?” Nia interrupted once more. “Maluem, I would like you to meet two good friends of mine. This is Torrez Entwhistle and his wife, Shelia. Torrez is a mechanic, hoping to gain the skills of a licensed MysTech, and his wife is quite gifted at the Wheeled Fiddle. From what I have gathered, she is very adept at weaving spells with her tunes.”
“I can manage a trick or two,” Shelia put in with a blush. “We were originally heading south in hopes of reaching Camilos. It is quite easy to find training in the Mystic Arts over there, from what we’ve heard. We both hoped to find a skilled Sorcerer and become his Acolytes. I think those are the right terms, aren’t they? They’re so quaint. Anyways, we seem to have run into a bit of trouble getting across the border. First, it was some monster in the river and now the massacre. It’s almost as if someone doesn’t want us heading west!”
“The folks in Camilos may be a bit backward,” Torrez added. “But the word is, they know their runes. We were just hoping to meet up with a Sorcerer that knew a burn from a bind. Then all this border fuss had to kick off. Just bad luck is all. We’ll get there if this whole mess doesn’t touch off a war, that is. I would love to find the one causing all of this mess! I’d show that one the business end of a Ball-Peen Hammer!”
A lurch in the great beast beside them cut the conversation off abruptly.
“Yes, well, perhaps we should save such thoughts for later, when we are all inside,” Nia broke in. “We will look pretty foolish if the Mainline pulls away while we stand here gabbing.”