“He wouldn’t—” Rowan started, but I waved my hand.
“I’m blowing this out of proportion. The deal was, I train my magic, or I work the train.” Adam would be so proud of me for my double train. “I forgot that when I told Ezra I needed space.”
“Oh, shit, you told the Architect you needed space?” Everly blinked rapidly.
I nodded. “Hope said everyone pulls their weight and works. Even Rowan has guard duty. I’m going to stop whining and go to work.” I looked for a bright side. “I’m already half done.”
Rowan pursed his lips. “Fine. I’ll walk you there and then go see the Architect and figure out what’s going on.”
A small ray of hope lifted the black cloud, but it didn’t promise a future. I needed to do that on my own. I dragged my feet back to the library with Cayden and Rowan on my heels.
Cayden kissed my cheek. “I’m not leaving the library until I see you walking out of it. And if this isn’t a mistake”—Cayden’s gaze darkened—“then tonight we’ll find a plan B together.”
There was steel beneath the velvet in his voice, and I believed him.
“Don’t do anything stupid.” Rowan looked pointedly at Cayden before wrapping me in a hug. “I should have come to you when I felt your pain last night, but it wasn’t physical, so I wasn’t sure…” He released me and rubbed his shoulder. “I’ll fix this. Cayden’s just above you if you need anything.”
Too soon, I found myself back on the train, with a new person this time. Unlike Adam, the new dude was young, fast-paced, and had absolutely no patience for my slow ass.
“If you can’t load faster, you’ll have to drive,” New Dude said, jabbing me with one of his poky fingers. He’d told me his name, but after a third prod, I made a point not to learn it.
I scowled at him. “Adam says I’m not supposed to drive the train for months.”
“Adam’s ancient and stuck in his ways.” New Dude raised an eyebrow. “You’re Quinn, right? The Architect’s ‘training’ you personally.”He put the word training in air quotes. “If you were knocked up already, you wouldn’t be down here, so do your job.”
Rage surged through me, chased by a hollow ache at the truth in his words. His poky fingers prodded my sides again, and I danced away from them before they could leave what I’m sure was already a collection of bruises.
“Look.” He put his hand over the dome Adam had used this morning. “You feed it here. Just split the stream once.” He kicked something with his shoe. “The excess comes out here.” He pointed at me. “What’s Adam’s catchphrase?”
I blinked at him. A train joke filled my mind first, but the phrase Adam repeated the most slipped out of my mouth. “Always vent the train.”
“Right-o.” He pointed at a few more gauges. “You got this.”
I bit my bottom lip, very sure I didn’t have this. Doubt made me hesitate. “Maybe I should wait for Rowan—”
“I don’t know who Rowan is, nor is he here.” New Dude cut me off. “I drove the train on day two. Just do your job.”
If Rowan was wrong, then I really was supposed to be here. I looked at my TB, but I hadn’t gotten any messages. I needed to stop hoping and get this done. If this was Xan being petty, then I’d gather my stuff, risk the body snatchers, and get Cayden and me far away from his family and my mistakes.
“Fine.” I slid to the controls.
Adam had shown me over and over how to dump my magic into the system. It wasn’t much different than the forge, though there were a few bits I was supposed to focus on at the same time.
At my command, my magic lit up the little dome with sparkles. I did love that part. And the train inched forward. For a split second, something close to joy hit me. The same dizzy high right before a fall.New Dude let out a satisfied grunt and hurried off to start prepping. Instead of beaming things up, we would be receiving things back.
The slow caboose picked up speed as my magic siphoned into the ball at its helm. Exhilaration rushed through me. Despite the lack of fresh air, the wind whipped at my face. The soft thump of objects landing on the round table barely cut through the clatter of tracks and whirring parts. The mist lighting the tunnels twinkled, and the cauldrons whizzed past faster than this morning.
“Slow it down a bit. We’re going to miss dropdown windows,” New Dude said, coming to my side. “And don’t forget to vent the train.”
“Okay.” I kicked the little box below me, but nothing happened.
The train picked up speed.
New Dude guided what looked and smelled like a big basket of rotting vegetables from the round plate to the edge of the compartment. “Why are we going faster?”
The world tilted; the wind slapped my face raw. I kicked the box again. And again. Still nothing. “It’s not venting, I think.”
“Just slow it down,” New Dude called from across the train.
