Seconds later, the eastbound train comes around the bend ahead. Though the thick wool is nearly impossible to see through, there’s a tear in the fabric. I squint through it, holding my breath as the locomotive approaches. Its brakes scream their protest while theytry to slow the rapidly rotating wheels. Unlike the usual train that transports residents between the two brother cities, this cart is shorter, yet wider. Its side windows have been painted over, and platforms protrude from its ends where four armed guards stand patrol: a pair in front, the other in back. But instead of directing their attention outward, the guards angle themselves towards the cart, as if the real threat lurks within.
A prisoner transfer.
They must be sending someone from Deor into the Abyss—prison cells at the lowest level of Caligo. But why arrange the transfer during daylight hours?
A reverberating crack emanates from the rear window as the cart passes in front of us. A shadowy profile refracts through splinters in the glass.
Gem winces, letting out a small squeal.
All four guards stand straighter as they swivel around.
My whole body tenses, preparing to bolt.
“That one of you boys?” asks a gravelly-toned guard stationed at the front of the cart. He scoffs. “Sounded like a scared little girl.”
The shorter of the two guards in back replies with a grunt, while the other folds his arms against his chest, flexing his muscles. “Wasn’t me. You sure you can hack it, old man?”
“I’ve been doing this since you were in diapers, son. It’s gonna take a whole lot more than that to rattle me. Probably just a nail or something on the track.”
Despite their talk, all four shift further from the cart as the hazy black outline of a fist slams against the glass, then pulls away before striking again—and again.
The shorter guard thumps the hilt of his sword against the window before calling to someone inside. “Give ’em another shock.”
Any responses are lost to the grinding retreat of the train as it winds around the other side of the bend.
Our lungs deflate a minute later.
“Sorry about that. Almost got us caught,” Gem says, bunching up her side of the shawl and passing it to me.
“Nothing to be sorry for.” I stand, folding the wool over my arm. Adrenaline rushes through my aching noodle legs, making them halfway useful as we continue down the path at a brisk pace. When we’ve put another two mile markers between us and the Caligo end of the tunnel, I ask, “Don’t you think it’s weird that they’re transferring a prisoner this late?”
“Maybe they didn’t want to distract from the festivities of the Hunt?”
“Maybe.” I chew on the inside of my bottom lip. Normally, the chancellor has prisoners paraded like warning signs to dissuade people from falling out of line. My brows pinch together as I consider why he’d switch tactics.
The thought distracts me from minding the path until my heel catches on a crack in the clay. I stumble sideways, arms flailing. Gem lunges back, but she’s too far ahead to grab me as I topple over the ledge into the trench of the central rail lines.
My satchel takes the brunt of the fall.
Something shatters inside and splinters through the canvas material directly into my right ass cheek. The sting distracts me from the rest of the aches while I hiss out a breath and roll forward onto my hands and knees.
Gem rushes to the edge of the platform. “Orelle! Are you okay?”
A strained laugh bursts through my lips as I push myself back to standing. “Never been better.”
Her furrowed brows relax. “Guess it’s not too bad if you think this is funny.”
“C’mon, it’s a little funny. Survived a near spotting from a prisoner transfer train, only to get taken down by my lack of coordination.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Fairly sure our wine bottle cut into my ass, but nothing feels broken.” I give my arms and hips a wiggle, proving my bones are indeed intact, then use the wool shawl to swipe at the wet stains along the backside of my chambray dress.
“Thank the shadows for that. Come over here so I can pull?—”
A groaning rumble shakes through the ground beneath my feet, sharper than the previous tremors.
Violet light illuminates the whites of Gem’s eyes. “Another train?”
