My knuckles swabbed at the corners of my eyes. “But Vaughan said…”
Rush shook his head. “My fathertoldVaughan he killed Myth.”
Hope sprang to life inside me. I knew I’d have felt it if Myth were gone. “So, what’s the plan? How do we get him back?”
“I have one,” Rush said, pushing off from the counter.
Vanya propped her hand on her hip. “Well, I have a plan, too, mister, and I rather like it.”
My eyes flicked between them as a smile tentatively grew on my lips. “I want to hear both.”
“You’re right:I don’t like that plan.” I sat on the couch in the Covingtons’ lavish parlor. The hearth lay cold and dark, and we huddled in the relative darkness of a single kerosene lamp, not wanting to risk anyone noticing that the house was occupied. Vanya sat beside me, and Rush sat across from us, one ankle propped on his knee, a pen twirling in his fingers. His eyes narrowed to slits at my words.
“You would pick her plan over mine,” he said with a smirk, the pen frozen in his uplifted hand.
“No, it’s not her plan I like best,” I countered. Vanya drew in an offended scoff. “It’s a combination.” Vanya and Rush both pinned skeptical looks on me. “You want to break him out in the middle of the night, going in, pistols blazing. But we don’t even know where your father is keeping him.” I shook my head at Rush for several seconds. “Vanya’s idea makes a bit more sense. I can’t say I know who we’ll choose to help us, but she’s right—we need more people to make this work.” Vanya tilted her head in a victorious way. “The duke will stop at nothing to keep his secrets safe, which means breaking Myth out will take more than a single pistol.”
“Three, you mean,” he amended, pointing at us with his pen.
Balking, I looked at Vanya. “I hate guns.”
“I rather love shooting them,” she admitted with a shrug. “But I’ve never shot one at a person. Very different from shooting skeet.”
“Either way,” I continued, “to break Myth out, we need more than guns. We need a team. Like you said, your father won’t keep Myth in Treston forever. He’ll need to move him somewhere he can alchemize his flame—likely your family’s holding in the Nevrons—which means there will be one chance to get him back. All we need to do is find out when he’s moving Myth and how.”
“Train,” Rush concluded. “It’ll be by train. The issue will be finding out when. My father is excellent at covering his tracks. And you can bet he’ll leave plenty of false trails to throw off the Corzos.”
“Know anyone who works for the train yards? Or the stationmaster?”
Rush leaned forward. “No, but I do know who can help. Prescott is a trainspotter. Don’t tell him I told you that.” He winked at Vanya’s shocked look. “He loves trains. Always has.He can find out when trains are moving and where. With any luck, we’ll find out which trains are moving thataren’ton any schedules.”
“Secret trains?”
“You bet there are.”
“All right. Do you trust Prescott?” I asked.
“With my life,” Rush replied quickly.
“All right,” Vanya agreed. “But there will be guards on this train, and I don’t want to shoot anyone.”
Rush snorted. “This might get dirtier than youwant, Princess.”
I lifted my hands. “I don’t want to kill anyone either. Remember in class, when Professor Logan told us about mixing wintercress into an ointment? If mixed incorrectly, it can knock someone out. Even kill them, if it’s way too strong. We could do that.”
“And risk killing them because I stink at chemistry?” Vanya blurted. “No, thanks. You’ve improved at chemistry, but that’s a big risk. I seem to recall you not doing so well on herbal remedies last semester."
“Clarence is excellent at it,” I said, picturing the kind boy with glasses.
“Everyone we bring into this, we put at risk,” Rush said.
Nodding, I added, “Well, then we let them decide. But having the headmaster’s son on the team could come in handy.”
Rush tapped his fist against his palm. “I agree. Clarence and Prescott. Anyone else?”
Vanya shrugged. “How will we know for certain if one of these secret trains is the one with Myth on it?”
For a moment, no one answered.
