He twisted around on one knee and tossed starfire at thepraetorialegionnaires, their shouts turning into screams. Vanya moved even as his attack fell amongst them, catching sight of a soldier farther back speaking into a televox.
“Blow the engine!” the legionnaire barked.
Vanya cast starfire at the soldier before he could issue any other orders. The man jerked back, screaming through the flames. Smoke made Vanya wheeze, or perhaps it was the poison creeping through his veins.
The remaining soldiers stumbled away from the starfire, unable to shoot at their target. Vanya couldn’t be sure they were trulypraetorialegionnaires or imposters, and he had no time to find out otherwise. He was distantly aware of the shouts coming from the carriages on either side of the one he stood in. Reinforcements, but for whom, he couldn’t be sure.
“Who sent you?” Vanya ground out, forcing his tongue to curl around the words as he stared at the soldiers.
The woman bared her teeth at Vanya, the look in her eyes that of a fanatic. “The dead will have you.”
“I think not.”
He let starfire fall on the three to consume them. Vanya was running out of time—five minutes, the clock on the wall said—but even as he took a step toward the storage racks, the train carriage shuddered on the rails, its speed slowing. Vanya managed to keep his footing, lunging for the only thing that could save him, but he didn’t make it in time.
The forward door to the train carriage was shoved open, and soldiers pushed their way inside, having crossed the narrow bridge connecting the two carriages over the couplings. They had pistols in hand, aiming for him, even as Vanya caught sight of something outside the windows that made his blood go cold in a way he couldn’t blame on the poison.
Revenants clawed at the exterior on both sides, rotten hands scratching at the metal as the train lost its momentum.
Vanya was not dying here, not like this.
He thrust his arm forward, starfire exploding from his hand, the heat of it less than what he was normally capable of. Already he could feel a slowness afflicting his body, a sluggish, creeping numbness he couldn’t fight.
Starfire slammed against the front of the train carriage, burning through the soldiers there and cascading farther outward. Vanya let it burn without limits, let it crawl over the two train carriages coupled between his and the engine. But he couldn’t keep it up, the clock ticking down the breaths his body could take.
An explosion ripped through the air from the direction of the engine, the deep sound of a grenade going off. The world lurched in a way Vanya felt in his stomach, teeth rattling in his skull. He lost his balance and fell, crashing against the table one of the servants had used to prepare his midday meal.
He slid to the floor, one hand grappling for the bolted-down table leg. Most of the furniture was secured in place, but not all. Vanya gritted his teeth as he struggled to curl up under the questionable safety of the table as the train carriage juddered in a frightening way.
The screech of breaking metal filled the air, the train carriage lurching off the track as the entire train derailed. Vanya tried to brace himself for the impact, but his body wasn’t cooperating. His breath came in sharp little gasps, lungs working overtime as he tried to hold on to the table leg, feet braced weakly against the wall.
Everything in the luggage racks spilled over, pitching to the floor around him. Everything not bolted down went tumbling through the train carriage. Vanya lost his grip on the table leg as the poison in his body dug deeper. He slid across the floor, slamming into a charred body as something hard knocked against the side of his head.
Colored spots erupted across his vision, dizziness making the world spin. Then the train carriage jerked to a hard halt, the sudden stoppage sending him sprawling. His hands slid over scorch marks in the rug as he came face-to-face with the burned visage of someone who was once loyal to him.
His starfire had disappeared, but the fire from the gas lamps had taken root in a chaise. Smoke clogged the train carriage, and Vanya tried to cough, but he couldn’t take a deep enough breath. He attempted to sit up, but his arms didn’t want to work.
“Move,” Vanya told himself, the word coming out slurred.
His heart wasn’t pounding quickly anymore, the poison slowing everything down. He managed to raise his head only a little, blurred vision taking in the jumbled mess of everything. Vanya didn’t know where the luggage with his carefully packed antidotes was, and something cold settled in his gut.
How many minutes did he have left? If he couldn’t move, he’d die here by fire, which would be a blessing considering what waited for him outside in the plains. Vanya had no desire to be torn to pieces by revenants while still alive, or worse, get bitten and become infected by the spores. He’d much rather burn than have his body wander on after his soul had fled for the stars.
Vanya closed his eyes, and when he managed to open them next, someone stood in the train carriage doorway. He tried to call upon starfire, but his fingers wouldn’t move, and the heat of the aether felt so very far away.
The person was all shadows to his eyes, coming closer. A hand touched his shoulder, rolling him to his back. Vanya blinked, unable to make out who kneeled over him.
“Shit,” the person muttered in the trade tongue, voice distinctly male. “What happened?”
Something bright glinted over the man’s shoulder, catching Vanya’s fading attention. The pull of a clarion crystal tugged at his soul, but the shape of the thing wasn’t a wand. His thoughts forced themselves into a desperate sort of order as he struggled to answer the question.
“Quiet killer,” Vanya mumbled.
The man swore. Vanya didn’t feel the hands on him, just knew he was moving when the world tilted. He was yanked to a sitting position and hauled across the man’s shoulders. Everything was upside-down, black spots eating away at the edge of his vision. The smoky darkness of the train carriage abruptly disappeared as he was carried into sunlight.
The metal of the train was replaced by dirt and dry prairie grass. Vanya stared at the pieces of revenants the man walked through without worry. Some distant thought snagged his attention, because there was only one kind of people who lacked the crippling fear of the dead that everyone grew up with, no matter the country.
The world went right side up seconds later, and he found himself sitting up, head lolling on his neck. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, and Vanya couldn’t shove down the panic suffusing his thoughts, sluggish as they were.
