Her imperious little command reminded him of Vanya, and Soren couldn’t quite hide his smile. “All right.”
He’d have preferred they stay in their train carriage, but he’d learned once they’d boarded that Raiah’s curiosity and inquisitive nature wasn’t easily corralled. Soren stood, hefting the rucksack onto one shoulder before lifting Raiah into his arms. She wrapped her skinny arms around his neck and didn’t reach for the hilt of his poison short sword. She’d taken his warning not to touch any of his weapons seriously and had so far adhered to his firm instructions.
Soren carried her down the aisle to the door that led to the narrow covered bridge that rose over the couplings, linking the two train carriages. The roar of the engine farther down the train and the rhythmic sound of the wheels spinning along the tracks drowned out almost everything as they passed into the next carriage, and then the next.
The dining carriage was meant for first-class ticket holders who could afford a sit-down meal. Everyone else on the steam train packed their own food in travel bags or ate at food stalls at one of the many stops along the railroads.
Wardens were given more leeway than most people. He didn’t need to buy a first-class ticket in order to access food in the dining car, but Soren rarely took advantage of that hospitality clause from the Poison Accords. Wardens were supposed to be welcomed anywhere, but he’d found over the years that was a pretty little lie.
Raiah’s presence eased the way enough that when they made it to the dining carriage, the servant on host duties didn’t sneer at him. She did look down her nose at him, which was a feat in and of itself seeing as how she was half a head shorter than he was.
“Ticket, please,” she demanded.
Soren hefted Raiah higher in his arms and reached for the belt pouch that held his wallet rather than his ticket. “We’re not here for a table. I just need some fruit for the tithe in my care.”
The servant sniffed disdainfully. “You should’ve brought your own food or purchased some at the last stop.”
Soren smiled thinly even as he maneuvered his wallet open to snag an auron bill while keeping hold of Raiah. “We’ve been traveling for quite some time. I’ll take whatever fresh fruit you have available.”
The servant took his offered money and retreated down the narrow aisle between the rows of tables to the galley at the other end. It was between mealtimes at the moment, so the only ones sitting in the dining carriage were those taking tea or alcohol. Soren ignored the stares and waited patiently while Raiah squirmed in his arms, taking everything in.
The servant came back, holding a small paper bag in her hand, which she passed over to Soren. He shook it open, studying the green plum, purple fig, and two small apricots that sat at the bottom. She’d shirked him on fruit, but Soren wasn’t in the mood to call her out on the markup.
“Thanks,” he said.
Raiah reached for the paper bag as he turned back the way they’d come. He let her have it, keeping her balanced in his arms as he walked back to their seats three train carriages away. He ignored the whispers that trailed behind them but didn’t much care for the piercing stares of a few passengers on the train carriage ahead of theirs.
Soren was glad for the goggles and helmet that hid Raiah’s hair and half her face. She was too busy biting into the fig to chatter at him, which he was thankful for. They made it back to their bench, and Soren got Raiah settled in her seat by the window before dropping his rucksack on the floor.
He took the aisle seat again, boxing her in protectively, and kept his eye on the train carriage door they’d just come through. The prickle of unease skittering over his skin wasn’t something he was willing to ignore. He hated thinking that anyone on the train could be arionetka, but that distrust wouldn’t easily fade.
His uneasiness was justified three stops and several hours later.
Raiah was napping with her head resting against the window when they pulled into a train station attached to a walled-off farming town in the distance. A small way station meant for travelers driving between Karnak and Bellingham sat adjacent to the tiny train station itself. The fuel pumps weren’t out of place, but the ornithopter and racing carriages definitely were.
Soren’s gaze lingered on the two-seat flying machine where it sat on the grass, blades rotating lazily above its round body. There was nothing out here but farmland, and its presence made Soren tense.
The platform was shorter than the train they rode, and Soren had to lean across Raiah’s sleeping form to get eyes on it as the train braked to a halt. The platform was unexpectedly crowded for such an out-of-the-way stop in the prairie. Half a dozen men and women stood on it, with fitted robes that didn’t quite hide the pistols holstered to their hips.
They could have been guards or gunslingers, but after everything that had occurred in the past few days, Soren wasn’t leaving anything up to chance. He’d risked a fast retreat to Karnack by train for the second leg rather than the dangers of the back roads with Raiah. If he were a gambling man, this would be the worst hand of cards he’d ever held.
Soren picked up his rucksack and slung it over his shoulder before reaching for Raiah. She didn’t wake when he picked her up and held her close, head tucked against his shoulder.
He made his way swiftly toward the rear of the train carriage and hit the stop request button that would notify the attendant that a rider needed to get off and retrieve luggage from a cargo carriage. That done, he slipped through the door and onto the narrow landing. No bridge connected to the cargo carriage. Soren’s boots hit softly against the metal steps that led off the train, and he paused on the last step.
“Riders off!” a train attendant called out.
A uniformed woman jogged past seconds later, sleeves marked with the stripes of a baggage attendant. Soren peered around the edge of the train carriage, noted the momentarily empty platform down the way, and then jumped lightly down to the gravel.
“Are you the one who wants off?” the baggage handler asked.
“I need my velocycle,” Soren said, standing so he could see the train carriages and platform behind him.
“Right, the warden. I’ll need to winch down the ramp. That’ll take a couple of minutes.”
“Make it quick.”
She scowled at him but set about doing her job. The loud clank of the cargo doors sliding open roused Raiah from her nap. She lifted her head, raising a hand to rub at her eyes before she remembered the goggles were in the way. With a pout, she shoved them up to her forehead and rubbed sleep out of her eyes.
