Erick chuckled. “That, my baby sister, I would pay to see. Now hand those over, I’ll dictate, and you write with your unmistakable sparkling magic.”
I exhaled slowly and gave in. For better or worse, over the next hour, I learned a lot about polite phrasing and meaningless promises before Erick set off with my responses for the McDonalds.
How many of these had the Architect kept from me? What else had he kept from me?
My TB buzzed. I expected Ezra. Instead, a block of text filled the schedule side. A new train shift burned into my vision, not just one, but two every day, keeping me busy from four in the morning to seven at night. My breath whooshed out of me. The words blurred and rearranged like they wanted to crawl under my skin. I didn’t know what to do. If I wasn’t training with Xan, then I was back on train duty. And a double to make up for lost time.
“This is fine. Everyone works to keep the family running. I was okay with that on day one, and I’m okay with it now.” My voice sounded steady, but it felt borrowed, too calm to belong to me.
Despite my words, something heavy pressed between my ribs, spreading with every breath until I couldn’t tell if it was anger or grief. I said I needed space. Xan said he was ‘here for me,’ and when I didn’t respond, he put me back on train duty. This wasn’t discipline. It was distance disguised as duty.
That moment in the Alun, when Xan seemed genuinely concerned about my hands, was already gone. I could still feel the ghost-warmth of his skin on mine, proof that concern had once been real. I suddenly felt as naïve as Erick had called me. The nights I’d spent with them, which I thought were fun, now felt suffocating. The memory curdled. Every laugh replayed like a trap snapping shut. It hadn’t been play; it was control. And now, they were showing me exactly how much of it they had.
Maybe this was the lesson; affection here always came with chains.
Wearing my checkered overalls, I slipped behind the main library desk and descended into the tunnels below. After a few turns, I finally dropped into the parking bay for the train.
“Right on time.” Adam grinned and waved at me. “Been a while, partner.”
I nodded at the old man, not trusting myself to speak.
“Let’s see what you remember, shall we?” Adam moved out of the way.
I clawed through every train memory I had, anything to avoid thinking about why I was really here. I said no, so Xan said work. Not just work, but a seventeen-hour day. This wasn’t just personal; it was petty in a way that didn’t match the Xan I thought I knew.
Shit. Adam was talking to me.
With inhuman patience, Adam started over, and together we loaded up the train.
After the last crate went into place, Adam sat me down on a stack. “You know, I’ve heard so many rumors about you. I’ve no idea what to believe.”
I gritted my teeth.
Adam held out a hand, its grease-filled creases like bark on old wood. “I’m not going to ask, but you’re surly this morning, even if you’re trying to hide it.” He frowned. “Train duty isn’t handed out lightly. It pays the most, but demands the most too. Whoever put you here has a lot of respect, not just for your abilities but for your mind as well. You must be able to split your focus to drive. It takes a lot of mental fortitude.”
Splitting my focus is what I struggled with most. Whoever put me here was an idiot. I took a deep breath.
“I’m the Architect’s man.” Adam patted his heart. “As you well know. I’m old and generally useless. BUT, the Architect trained me, get it? Trained me?” He chuckled.
I didn’t join him. He’d already used that exact joke.
“Seriously, though,” Adam continued. “He gave me not just something to do but a reason to live and be happy. Nothing he does is without purpose. Maybe instead of being angry, ask why. Look inside yourself for patterns; there must be a reason you’re here today.”
I bit back a snappy comment about childish men punishing me for not sleeping with them. Instead, I let out a tense breath.
Adam gave me a kind smile. “Up. Let’s get this train rolling.”
He walked to the control terminal and put his hands on the ball of swirling colors. Lines of his greige magic moved through the controls.
He kicked the vent at the bottom. “Always vent the train, Quinn. If you remember nothing else this morning, remember that.”
The train slowly inched forward. Orders appeared in a glowing scrawl built into the wall. I located the crates farther back on the train and hauled the first batch by hand to the round pad so the ‘transporter’ could ‘beam them up’ to the different buildings. I was sure Adam had told me the actual names for the spells, but on some level, I honestly never thought I’d find myself down here again.
Adam raised an eyebrow. “Magic?”
My black heart fluttered. For the first time, I noticed the little plates of silver on the bottom of each milk crate. They must be what made them float. Instead of picking up the second stack, I sent magic into them. The entire stack floated up. It made it about halfway to where I wanted it before landing hard, and the top few books toppled to the floor.
Adam whistled. “It’s more than you could do.”
