He’d wheezed out an amused sound before saying, “She’ll do.”
My first glimpse of Frostbrook was a rough-hewn shack and a raised platform constructed with knotty, unfinished pine. “This is the station?” I asked, unable to mask my distress.
The steward only laughed as he tossed my bag at my feet.
For a few minutes, I stood there, my skin prickling with embarrassment. I’d expected to be greeted by my Senior. Maybe escorted by a small crowd of admirers. That’s how they’d welcome Gertrude in Copper City. They’d probably weave flowers into her pretty hair.
Thinking about her made my eyes hot.
As I scrubbed my face, pretending it was only sweat I was wiping away, a little boy appeared at my elbow, startling me. He gave me agrubby bow. I wondered if he noticed that my skirts were wrinkled, or that my hair had risen into a red halo of unruly curls from the wet cloth. Maybe it was best that no one else had come for me.
At the other end of the platform, a group of workers in coveralls unloaded large pallets of machinery and huge spools of cable. A woman with a clipboard noted each item, frowning. Surely documenting what was missing from the robbery.
A winch groaned with the load, heavy timber straining against the weight. I stared for a moment, taking in the complicated loops and pulleys that allowed only three of them to maneuver a massive pallet. My bones hummed with a warm thrill at the mechanics of it. I felt like one of the little children who chased trains through the dank belly of the city, dancing in the rain of soot.
But I forced myself to stay where I was. The station wasn’t my post, and the train wasn’t my playground. The workers ignored my childish grin. As far as I could tell, I was the only passenger who’d disembarked at Frostbrook beyond those who had come to resupply and relieve the others who toiled at the unfinished Mission.
My grin faltered as I watched two young women help a middle-aged worker up onto the train. He’d sweated through his shirt and walked hunched over and trembling. Though he had a muscular build, he looked as if it strained him to take shuffling, slow steps. I didn’t see an obvious injury, but it seemed as if he’d somehow hurt himself working on the Mission.
“Um?” A small voice interrupted.
I turned my attention back to the boy. His golden-brown skin reminded me of Tabitha’s, and a pang of longing for the House of Industry made itself known like a puncture.
“Hello,” I managed, noticing that the boy was missing both his front teeth. “You don’t look like you weigh an ounce more than my bag.”
He muscled the bag up anyway. “I’m Henry, and I’m stronger than I look.”
I smiled at his determined grimace and let him get as far as the dirt road before I slipped the bag out of his hands. “I’ve got it. You lead the way. I’m in need of a guide.”
Now unfettered, he skipped ahead of me, gesturing at the wide river in the distance. My steps halted as I took in the view. The rippling water sparkled like crystals in the sun, all shimmering bursts of sunlight and deep blue. At home in the city, every canal leading to the Sterling River was the color of laundry water. I’d never seen anything like this wild ribbon. I was so besotted by it that it took several more clumsy paces for me to notice the small houses dotting the banks and the machinery where mules tugged the ferry raft back and forth.
Once the Mission was operational, the ferry house would be my primary post. I’d make sure the radiance lines that traveled all the way from the closest Generator plant were wired correctly and safely. I’d maintain the machinery and teach the locals how to switch the flow of radiance on and off. The ferry had to run smoothly in any season for Frostbrook to grow as a trading post.
A twinge of urgency made me quicken my steps. The sooner I arrived at the Mission, the sooner I could make my talents known to my Senior. Even without live radiance lines to work on, I could show them that I was useful and clever. Every day would be a chance to prove my worth so that, eventually, they’d recommend me for a promotion.
Henry gave me a dubious look over his shoulder. “In a hurry to get inside, ma’am?”
No one had ever called mema’ambefore, and I laughed softly, the sound surprising me. “No. This weather is quite perfect.”
“You must be hot in all those skirts and sleeves and that scarf.”
“I don’t get terribly hot.” But he was right, my dress was overly stuffy and ill-suited for country life this time of year. Tabitha had been correct, as usual. Only steps from the train, I already yearned for a pair of trousers and shorter sleeves. Hopefully my new Senior would allow me to visit a tailor with my small allowance. “I expected it to be a littlecooler here with a name likeFrostbrook,” I added, smiling so he’d know I wasn’t cross about it.
“It gets real cold in the winter, just you wait.”
The thought of winter made my heart sink. It was already difficult to imagine spending entire seasons here. “I suppose I’ll see.”
“Heard the train was robbed.” Henry broke a dead branch off a tree alongside the narrow road and swung it around like a sword. He walked backward, watching me with his relentless toothless grin. I found myself missing the youngest children at the House, those who had recently arrived. The little ones had always seemed to be either laughing or crying—with nothing in between. Certainly nothing quiet.
Apparently, news traveled faster than trains. Ignoring an itch of unease, I gripped my bag more tightly. “Shadowy bandits. They came for our souls, but I fought them off!”
Henry snorted. “Are you sure they weren’t wood spirits?”
I’d never heard that ghost story. But then, most of the foundlings in the home I’d grown up in before the House didn’t need to tell scary stories. We’d lived them already. “What’s that?”
“They protect the trees. And the—”
“Henry Vale, bite your tongue.” A woman’s voice broke out like a thunderclap. I whirled to see her burst onto the porch of a shack so run-down, I’d mistaken it for an abandoned dwelling. Hurriedly, I tucked my clenched fingers into my skirts, ashamed to have been caught hearing a foolish story.
