‘I saw it. I’m telling you, plain as day. I saw the thing.’ Elizabeth pouted, pulling her pale crimped hair back and tying it with a length of floral-patterned red silk. The immediate dismissal was hard to take. Never before had she been rejected so bluntly and by so many. Sure, what she was doing was a breach of trust, but it paid off. The disappearances, the distant attitude, it all made sense.
Unfortunately, the others failed to see it this way.
‘You saw nothing,’ Corinne interrupted. ‘You saw a map. Big deal. In case you’ve not noticed, maps are a necessity for those who travel, and that’s what we’re doing right now. Misu will need plenty of them to plan our route. I fail to see how this is some surprising, ground-breaking revelation.’
‘A map being hidden in a wardrobe? That’s not normal. You didn’t see it.’ Elizabeth scowled and given her smaller frame attempted to fill the carriage with her presence.
‘No, but I’m seeing you flustered over this.’
‘I’m no liar! Don’t be insinuating that I would do such a thing. That’d be cruel of you all. I’m simply telling you what I saw, and I saw it, true. If you had, you would know that it was all … curious-like.’
* * *
‘And?’ Corinne prompted for more. What exactly does this newcomer expect us to do with this information, if it could even be called that?
‘It’ll warrant an investigation. Won’t it?’
‘You are dreaming.’
‘Is she?’ Katerina mumbled before repeating herself louder. ‘I don’t want to sound ungrateful but we have been surprised before. It wasn’t too long ago when Misu played all of us for her own gain. That’s when we rode as the Gambler’s Den or did you conveniently forget? That turned out to be quite the ordeal. I’ve known her for a long time and even I was shocked at the betrayal. It pains me to say that …’
Corinne scowled, not appreciating the intervention. ‘Come now, that was a long time ago and the circumstances …’
‘The circumstances were an excuse. We were played. Franco was even played and let’s not be forgetting that much.’ The name of their manager stirred plenty of unease among them all. Katerina became bolder. She clearly wasn’t trying to incite trouble; in fact her nature dictated that she shied from confrontation. Though if anything, Katerina was factual, and as had shown many times before, if she didn’t agree with what was presented, she would say as much. Her injury had flattened, making the flesh purple, though still presented itself as angry.
‘Katerina …’
‘But it is true, isn’t it? I was lied to.’ She solemnly looked about to the other faces that dimmed their brightness recalling the events of before. ‘You were lied to. We all were. We’re here, once again, living this life on the rails when we very easily could have said no. Any of us could have turned her down; some did. The smart ones stayed behind. So what were we all expecting when signing up again? That betrayal would be buried under good times and fine wine? I tried to ignore it but it’s never gone away. I was hopeful that this time would have been better. Is it so impossible that she’s lying to us again? And weren’t you looking for her last night? Didn’t she go missing once again?’
Corinne held her tongue.
‘Just like before,’ Elizabeth added, pulling out a folded piece of paper, her handwriting scrawled with the information that she had gleaned from many a polite question. ‘It’s exactly like the last four stops. I took the liberty of checking with the post office when we took on water. We turn up; there’s arrests the next day. Last night thirteen were killed in a shootout and somehow this is just a coincidence? I’m telling you, someone is after us.’
‘We’re a bloody rolling target,’ Corinne debated. ‘We hold a lot of money on board. Did it escape the realms of possibility that we attract this trouble simply because of our reputation? Maybe there’s no grand conspiracy at work. Maybe it’s all in your head!’ she seethed, stabbing at her own temple.
‘I’ll prove it.’ Elizabeth narrowed her eyes in anger. ‘I’ll make you eat those words. I’ll get you this damned evidence, then you’ll see.’
Corinne kicked her heels, watching the youngster march out of the carriage. The worst part wasn’t that long-time friends were questioning their loyalty, nor that this hearsay was gaining pace.
No, the fact that scared Corinne the most was that she could be right.
Chapter 9
Water well
In the middle of the Sand Sea, conditions were the harshest one could endure. The intense heat was coupled with crippling cold as soon as the sun set. Out here, especially during the heat of the day, it was dangerous for any traveller but for those train-bound, the littered watering holes were a welcome balm. For most, they were a necessity.
The Morning Star dragged itself against the platform of Pitchfork Outlook, beneath the shade of a water tower, before coming to a wheezing stop. A chorus of steam blasts drifted away upon its halt, before Misu stepped down from her carriage onto a low, wooden platform.
The heat was relentless, a brutal noon sun that forced many to run to shade, though the worst was subdued by Misu’s long-lipped hat and tinted glasses. The platform was stacked with shipments, sacks and crates all ready for loading. It seemed that the station hands were quite punctual here, a far cry from some of the disorganized messes that had caused many a hold-up in her time.
A good stroll down the platform was the information office, indicated by a squeaky, swinging wooden sign.
* * *
When noticing the company, its occupant, Alphonse Monka, gave a toothy smile. Folks always responded to niceties out this way. Small tonics such as an open ear, a helpful attitude went far for travellers, no matter their vehicle or destination. Things had been quiet so far today – the routes were pleasantly empty and general trading had been light. It gave him a chance to flick through the morning’s invoices, which he did with firm thumb flips.
The ramshackle office was a cluster of organized mess, with regional maps of some thirty years ago pinned to the walls and various rolled charts bundled into hastily organized piles. Tall stamped piles of forms seemed to collate over every surface, constructed in a bizarre sorting system that only he and his colleague were privy to.
* * *
Misu failed to appreciate the intricacies and complexities, peering through her tinted spectacles flatly as she reached the reception window. She read the man’s name on the badge he wore.
‘Welcome to Pitchfork. Good morning to you,’ Monka delivered with his smile.
‘That’s quite the matter of opinion.’
‘Anything in particular today? We’ve got good lodgings here. The beds are soft and the food is fine. Fill your bellies, rest for a spell. It does people a world of good I assure you.’
Looking at the state of what classed as an inn out here, it wasn’t a difficult decision to make.
‘Just the water thanks.’ Misu filled out her papers with a scrawl of ink, before sliding them over. Keenly, they were examined, stamped appropriately, and handed back. Monka immediately gestured to the two youngsters who manned the water tower opposite. They had waited patiently before swinging out the water tower arm over the train’s boiler until they could begin their job. With a wave of his limb, they wrenched open the boiler cap, avoiding the belch of steam, and began to top the engine up. Misu gave their payment of two coins before folding the documents into her jacket breast pocket.
‘Any news we need to be aware of?’ she enquired, looking around for any other sign of life. Apart from the platform hands sitting around smoking, the outpost was decidedly quiet, for the time being at least.
‘Depends on where you’re heading.’
‘North mostly. Following the route up to Eifera.’
‘Eifera, eh? Quite a journey going to the green lands. That’s a crossing for sure. I was thataways in my heyday, much younger than I am now, and I saw it rain for a week straight. Not like out here of course, but back then …’
The candour
was mistaken for meddling. Misu’s eyes narrowed, encouraging Monka to get to the point. He sorted through wire messages and the latest wanted posters for anything of use, delivering them with a clear of his throat.
‘You folk don’t need to know them stories now do you? Well, I don’t know if this is more your sort of thing, but we’ve got a nest of bandits out to the west. They’ve been hijacking shipments that pass through and ransoming some passengers. Some even tried their luck on one of the smaller sand ships. If you’re feeling useful, there’s plenty out there who have money on them.’
Misu drummed her fingers on the desk surface. ‘We don’t do bounties I’m afraid. Besides, isn’t that something that the law should be concerning themselves with?’
‘Ideally. The law have their hands full with other things on all accounts. The south is busy with arrests. Gangs will be completely pushed out into the Sand Sea at this rate, though I’m supposing that it’s been happening already. The marshal has been mighty keen on that. All manner of racketeering and troubles, oh yes. You’re best to take the tracks westward through Mayslip to give them a wide berth if trouble isn’t your thing. It’ll add a few hours but better than the alternative.’
‘Thank you,’ Misu stated, sliding a coin over for the useful information. It was well received. Monka scooped it up and admired the Morning Star straddling the tracks in the sunshine. He sighed at the handsome sight. Perhaps it had been a while since something so pristine had hauled itself through his post.
‘Quite the train you have there, lady.’
‘Thanks.’
‘New?’
‘Not entirely. It’s been around a while,’ Misu purred.
Monka slowly whistled. ‘Looks like it just rolled off the line. It’s a rarity to see something in such condition out here, forgive my gawping and all. It’s surprising to see someone who takes pride in what they have. Few people have a sense of ownership. They leave things to dust and rust.’
‘Indeed they do.’
‘What’s your business?’
‘Entertainment,’ Misu quickly added: ‘exclusively.’
‘Ooh, you’re the ones who made the stop in Ponderdan last week. Fireworks and all, huh? That’s quite a specialization. I’ve not heard of that for quite some time now.’ Monka rubbed his leathery chin in thought. ‘Reminds me of another of your sort that ran through here from time to time. Proud vehicle that was. Have you ever heard of the Gambler’s Den?’
Misu’s heart sank. A burst of imagery passed before her eyes. ‘Scraps.’
‘Oh, it was a delight. The Gambler’s Den rode some years ago, doing what you do now. Rarely passed through here, normally took the upper tracks through the canyons. Its owner was a dramatic sort, Franklin or something I believe he was. You would have had quite the thing to talk about. I wonder where they are all now. Seems strange you haven’t crossed paths. Isn’t it, Ottawa?’
Monka’s assistant, who had been listening to all this while busying himself with paperwork, interrupted with what he knew of the subject. He showed the same defeat to age as his counterpart but whereas Monka’s frame had shrunk with the years, thinning him out, the weight on Ottawa had fallen to his belly, making his rising from the chair more of a heave. He shuffled over, adjusting his thick-rimmed glasses, focusing on Misu at the counter, who busied herself rolling a length of shag tobacco into paper.
‘You didn’t hear? Gambler’s Den crashed outside of Windberg it did. Big accident on all accounts. Plenty of arrests though. I heard there was a mess of trouble about it. The law spent days sifting through the wreckage – no doubt claimed all that money it carried. Wonder on the worth of all that.’ Ottawa chuckled deeply and sat back down to tend to his paperwork.
‘Sad if true. Still, an open market I suppose.’ Monka broadly grinned. ‘Less competition for you.’
Misu drew her hands away from the counter and lit her smoke with a match from a book. It was branded, black, and glittered with the same logo that was upon the train’s patina. She placed it before Monka as a memento. The match itself was shaken dead.
‘Ain’t I the fortunate one?’
Her stroll back to the train was filled with numerous activities. The billboard was filled with notices, boring notices at that, except for a month-old warning of bandits operating the route. Beside it, dead faces stared back from wanted posters, criminal mug shots punctuated by short, damning accusations. The names were in bold, important print. She read each one out aloud: Albert Sanders, Decius Arlington, Mallory Arken, Cole Roaner, Jackdaw Grayson, Malfont Monsoon, Michael Weaver.
The last was a surprising entry that made her snort a laugh. Weaver’s sarcastic grin gained her immediate attention. She assessed his list of delinquencies, sure that some were not actually words or had been made up for him alone. Two thousand. She flicked the poster’s edge in a disapproving snap. It would have been worth handing that troublemaker to the Bluecoats in person at that price.
The wind violently fluttered the papers, lifting them up in some cases, revealing face under face where space had been an issue. Her hand was still extended. A ghost of past transgressions cemented her legs in surprise. Her heart pounded violently, as she stared back, momentarily transfixed. Previously hidden beneath the other criminals but now very much revealed was the horrendous, bulbous face of Wilheim Fort.
Misu snatched away the poster and read the contents, vigorously puffing away on her smoke.
WANTED FOR CONSIDERABLE CRIMES IN THE REGION:
WILHEIM MONTGOMERY FORT
125,000 to be paid for information that secures the arrest of this felon
By order of the Regional Marshal
Beneath the long, long list of proposed charges was an addition printed with red ink, significantly standing out from the previous claims use of black:
Absconding from incarceration from Windberg penitentiary with considerable assistance resulting in the loss of thirteen proud Bluecoat lives. Considered to be extremely dangerous and will undoubtedly be helped by numerous associates to prevent return to incarceration.
Misu calmed her nerves with a jet of smoke from her nose, crumpled up the poster, and tossed it on the ground in disgust. She ground the stub of a roll-up under a boot heel and walked along the carriages of the Morning Star. She was already haunted by the ghost of another; the last thing she needed was for it to have company.
From above, the heavy roar of the water tower churned in repetition, guided on by the station hands who chatted among themselves. Misu eyed them one at a time on passing, suspicious that they may be up to no good or, more annoyingly, damaging the carriage roof with carelessness. Her gaze drew across to Ferry who had used this time to tend to a couple of small jobs that required attention. He squatted beside a carriage wheel, wrestling with numerous tools that were swapped relentlessly from the toolbox beside him.
‘How long are we going to be this time?’ Misu sighed impatiently. Ferry echoed her sentiment, struggling with a bolt that his wrench stubbornly refused to cooperate with. It finally relinquished its grip and allowed the tool to turn it.
‘Not for half an hour more, woman. Give us some time at least – I’ve barely started working!’
Time. Time was what they didn’t have, Misu impatiently deliberated. Instead, she focused on the other question that nagged her.
‘How’s the Star doing?’
Ferry wiped his brow on a rough cotton sleeve, already pitted and doused in grime. He rose, though clearly was frustrated at his work, and the interruption. ‘Fine on all accounts, but look, I have to be honest with you, Misu …’
‘I prefer you to be.’
‘You may not be on hearing it.’ He tested her reaction with a cold, unbroken stare, until he continued. ‘I need to know why you’re pushing things as hard as you are.’
‘The schedule is not a concern of yours; it’s a concern of mine.’
‘It is a concern for both of us if you need us to reach Eifera in time.’
‘Will it be a
problem doing so?’ She narrowed her eyes.
‘At this rate? If we keep the speed up then time won’t be an issue.’ Ferry rubbed his hands clean with a leather rag, or as clean as he could make them. ‘But I’ve never been on a ride so lucky and this thing isn’t worn in enough yet. I’m waiting for something to break and it won’t be too long.’
‘That’s not good enough. It simply isn’t. I need this thing running. I need it to perform perfectly, when I need it to. Ensure that’s the case Ferry!’
* * *
That was it. Ferry had been perfectly amicable prior to this. He had listened to every rant she had delivered, every demand and thoughtless comment, but he had now had enough. He tossed a tool into the box beside him with a loud clatter and said his piece.
‘I know full well what you need but you need to listen to what I’m saying. For days you have been on my back, all of our backs, saying we need to push this and we need to do that. You’re running us like something is nipping at our heels, day in, day out! I have repeated myself and you do not seem to listen. We cannot keep going at this pace. I am warning you.’
A thick finger with oil-soaked crevices wagged between them.
‘You’re warning me?’ Misu spat in disgust.
‘Yes, I am,’ he grunted through his dense whiskers. ‘I’m telling you this is all going to go south very quickly if you’re not careful. I know I can push this thing as hard as you want it, but it’s not going hold out doing so.’
Misu nodded her fair head and thought for a moment. Hopefully she would allow Ferry’s expertise to stop these headstrong notions of hers.
Sadly he was to be disappointed.
Despite being a good foot shorter, Misu sized up her driver and stared at the lined face that showed such impudence. It was an action that caught Ferry by total surprise.
‘I need this train to go as fast as it possibly can. Our next stop is Maou Port. Time is of the essence – that’s the bottom line. Either comply with that or I’ll find someone else who can. Do we have an understanding?’ Misu retorted, swatting the finger away from between them. Ferry withdrew his arm and crinkled his brow. There was clearly no reasoning with this woman. Not like this.
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