Vish’s hands flew to his neck at once to try to prise Vorroff, but it was no use; the gauntleted fingers fixed tightly around his throat. Vorr lifted him off the ground with one hand and held him aloft. Vish started to wheeze and choke, his legs kicking frantically as he pulled at Vorr’s hand with no success.

“Pitiful darkie,” Vorr said. “I don’t know why Kivvest values you so much. How did they get to you? Did they offer you more poppy, somehow? Nobody has more poppy than us. The seeds are always your weakness.” He looked past Vish. “Soldiers, kill the hostages.”

“N-now!” Vish managed to croak from within Vorr’s grip. “Do it now!”

Chaos erupted.

A gust of air rushed through the carriage. Sagar, Ryn thought briefly before he was flipped over onto his front. He screamed as the pain spiked again.

Shouts and battle cries and the sound of pistols firing and the clash of steel.

And then he was on his back again, another flare of pain exploding in his body.

Cid’s face swam into his failing vision amidst dancing white spots.

“...is bad,” Cid was saying. “Really bad. I’m going to have to use a lot of mana to heal you. Hold on.”

Cid placed a hand on Ryn’s chest, cradled Ryn’s broken fingers with the other, and closed his eyes. Another shock of pain and Ryn screamed again. He was sure that he was about to pass out, or worse—

“Cura!”

—but then the heat of pain transformed and became a cool, soothing sensation that started in his hand and chest and spread slowly through the rest of him. Ryn’s fingers moved back into joint and went straight and normal again. He felt his teeth regrow and move back into place.

The pain departed like the worst house-guest that Ryn’s being had ever entertained.

He sighed, at last freed from the encompassing agony, and opened his eyes.

Cid was panting. “Come on lad,” he said. “No rest for the wicked. You’re needed.”

Ryn wasted no time. He let Cid pull him up, then looked round at the battle that had begun.

Vorr had been blown to the far end of the carriage, but was back on his feet and had his huge sword drawn, shouting in fury and swinging it in massive deadly arcs at Sagar, who had his twin cutlasses out, and Nuthea, who knew how to handle the Imperial sword she carried too, Ryn was surprised to see.

On the other side of them, near the entrance of the carriage, Vish and Elrann were locked in a similar dance with the lady Shadowfinger. Vish’s black sword flashed this way and that, and Elrann flicked her whip out in vicious snaps, but the Shadowfinger dodged and jumped and twirled to avoid each blow, and each time brought her chain around in reply, forcing Vish and Elrann to dodge out of the way themselves.

On the floor next to them lay Tilbrook, eyes staring at nothing. He was only a boy. Barely older than me.

Ryn made his choice and pelted towards the far end of the carriage where Sagar and Nuthea fought Vorr, renewed hatred for the General spreading like heat from his chest. Found Vorr. Get Vorr. Kill Vorr. It wasn’t really a choice at all.

He saw a gap in the melee as Sagar used another smaller gust of wind to push Vorr back again and, his reserves replenished by Cid’s magic, flung a fireball directly at the general.

It hit him in the chest, then dissipated into nothing.

“Get back, pup!” Sagar said. “We don’t need you here! Go help the woman and the scumsucker! Don’t you remember he’s impervious to your fire attacks?”

Oh. In his sudden thrill at being healed by Cid and able to move again, Ryn had completely forgotten for a moment. Again. Stupid…

“Elpis!” roared Vorr all of a sudden through the momentary lull in the fighting. “Call for reinforcements, damn you!”

Ryn spun to see the lady Shadowfinger leap away from Vish and Elrann in two elegant hops and land by the door. She dashed through it, and it bounced off the wall and shut behind her with a clang.

Distant shouts.

Ryn stood watching the door for a moment, blinking in surprise at what had just happened. She had moved so fast.

A rumble.

And then the door to the carriage burst open, and in flew the Shadowfinger again, followed by a swarm of soldiers.

“Poodoo!” yelled Sagar, still trading strikes with Vorr. “Run!”

Vish and Elrann didn’t need telling twice.

But Ryn did, torn between the desperate desires to survive and to see Vorr dead.

“Come on, Ryn!” Nuthea said, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him after her, away from the oncoming soldiers.

Sagar yelled something and another massive gust of wind pushed Vorr out of their path into a window, leaving a spiderweb of cracks. Elrann fired at him as they passed, and sparks flew from his chestplate. It wouldn’t have wounded him, Ryn knew, but it kept him there as they dashed past.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Ryn felt a pang of regret that he was running away from Vorr again and forced himself to look away. He wasn’t going to kill the General today. Run Ryn, run away, live to fight another day, live to find Vorr again and make him pay.

Thank the gods there was another door at the other end of the carriage. Sagar got to it first and kicked it open.

They piled out of it after him. But where Ryn expected another carriage, it opened onto to a small platform built onto the outside of the train.

They skidded to a halt, stumbling and holding onto each other to stop themselves falling off it from their momentum. Rushing air and green hills lit by sunshine greeted them.

Elrann slammed the door behind them and shoved her sheathed Imperial sword through its handle to prevent it from being opened.

Almost immediately something smashed into the door from the other side and it came open slightly, but stopped when it met the resistance of the weapon.

“COME BACK HERE YOU IMUPDENT PESTS!” bellowed Vorr from the other side, rattling it again.

The sword would probably hold for a while, but not long.

“What now?” said Ryn.

“Up there,” said Sagar, pointing.

Next to the door that Elrann had wedged shut, a ladder.

Sagar shoved Nuthea forwards so that she went up first, then followed, then Cid, Elrann, and Ryn with Vish behind him.

It was even windier on top of the train, making Ryn’s hair fly around his head. The roofs of the carriages were more-or-less flat, though, so they could run across them. When they got to the first gap between carriages, a couple of metres, they jumped it, and kept running. They kept on like that, dashing across the train-top vaulting the spaces between the carriages.

The sound of snapping metal behind; more shouts.

They ran faster.

What’s our endgame here? Ryn thought. How are we going to get off this train?

And then he saw the black-armoured soldiers in front of them climbing onto the roof of the carriage at the front of the train.

They would be pinned from both sides.

“Halt!” Vish yelled unexpectedly. “Form up! Stand ground!”

Everyone seemed to instinctively understand what he meant and obeyed him.

Ryn stood back-to-back with Vish, Nuthea and Sagar facing the same way to either side of him, who were back to back with Elrann and Cid respectively, and watched the approaching stampede of helmetless soldiers coming towards them over the top of the train.

Swordless, he clenched his fists, readying himself to throw fire. Have the regular soldiers been Ruby-touched as well, or just the officers? Only one way to find out…

“I’m not sure we can win this,” he thought aloud.

“Quiet, pup!” Sagar snapped. The soldiers were two carriages away now; Ryn could hear their shouts and see their snarls. “Don’t forget, we’ve still got our elemental projection, and old timer back there can heal us if we need it.”

“And now that we’re outside,” said Nuthea, “I can use my lightning.”.

A crackle, and the hairs on the back of Ryn’s neck stood on end.

The oncoming soldiers cleared the gap onto their carriage. They charged the last steps towards the party, swords drawn, shouting curses and battlecries. Ryn could seespittle flying from their mouths.

The closest one had his blade raised to strike.

“Fire!!” shouted Ryn, thrusting out his palms and willing flames forwards.

Burning orange leapt from his hands in a blast that engulfed the charging soldiers. Their shouts turned to screams.

“Bolt!” shouted Nuthea, and lightning lanced forth into the firestorm too, crackling around it.

“Wind—aarrahh!”shouted Sagar, and a huge gust of wind blew away Ryn’s fire attack and swept the soldiers from the roof and out of the lightning like like crumbs from a tablecloth.

Ryn winced as the screams were cut short by the crunches of the soldiers hitting the ground.

He turned, panting, to Sagar. “Hey, what are you doing?! Your attack got in the way of mine!”

The pirate was panting too. He scowled at Ryn with his good eye. “Well it worked, didn’t it? I didn’t know if your fire was going to have any effect on the soldiers—it doesn’t on Vorr.”

“Well it clearly did,” Ryn snapped back. “It must be just the Officers that they’ve touched with the ruby, not the common soldiers.”

“Um, boys…” said Nuthea.

Ryn turned.

Beyond Elrann, Vish and Cid, at the other end of the carriage roof, stood a cluster of the Imperial officers, the lady Shadowfinger, and, at their head General Vorr. Beyond them stood more soldiers on the roof of the next carriage along.Ryn needed to kill this man. But he still wasn’t strong enough to kill him yet. He needed more time to train. That meant he needed to survive this somehow.

“We need to coordinate our attacks this time…” he said quietly to Sagar and Nuthea, hoping that Vorr couldn’t hear.

“I’m not sure how much mana I’ve got left,” said Sagar. A sliding of metal as he drew his twin blades.

Ryn wished he hadn’t lost his Imperial sword.

“Don’t worry,” said Nuthea unexpectedly. “I’ve still got plenty.”

Something was wrong. Vorr had his own huge blade drawn too, but he wasn’t coming forwards to use it. Yet. His jaw was set and his brows creased in a deep frown.

“Rebel filth,” Vorr said calmly as if he was addressing them by a formal title. “I don’t know how you managed to turn a Shadowfinger to your cause, or why you keep popping up at such inopportune moments, but I have now had enough of you. By killing you I do believe I’ll be ridding myself of a nuisance and doing the Emperor a favour.”

He took a step forwards.

“Stop right there, Vorr!” yelled Nuthea. “You wanted me alive beforeWe’re outside now, and I can use my gift!” Why is she telling him that? Oh right, her stupid ‘no killing’ rule… She wants to give him a chance…. “One step closer and I’ll electrocute you all where you stand!”

There was some shuffling among the soldiers but Ryn kept his eyes on Vorr.

The general was moving his teeth from side to sid, still frowning. But then his frown cracked into into malevolent smile. “Don’t threaten me, witch! You don’t know as much as you think. You’ve served your purpose to the Empire enough already by betraying your homeland.” What? “ It’s time for you to die now.”

What did he mean Nuthea ‘betrayed her homeland’?

“He’s bluffing…” said Sagar quietly.

“I’m not so sure…” said Cid.

“Er, guys, what’s the plan here?” said Elrann.

“If he takes one step,” said Sagar, “hit him with everything you’ve got, princess.”

“No,” said Cid, “listen to me; there’s no time to explain now, but that’s not wise. Look, there: we’re about to pass by the river. When I give the signal, jump.”

“What?” said Sagar. “Are you mad, old timer?”

I don’t know how to swim, Ryn thought.

“Enough stalling!” shouted Vorr.

He ran at them with a battle roar, the officers following fast.

“BOLTAGAH!” shouted Nuthea at the top of her lungs.

A crack, and white lightning lanced from her outstretched fingertips into the Imperials. More lightning than Ryn had ever seen her summon before danced from her hands for a heartbeat, two, three, crackling and shifting and jumping between the officers, lighting up their faces, wide-eyed with shock. They cried out.

And then the lightning subsided.

Steam hissed from the officers as their shouts died away.

But they were still standing.

“How…?” murmured Nuthea.

Vorr looked down at himself, apparently as surprised as she was.

“Ha,” he chortled, sounding half-disbelieving. And then another chortle came, and another, and his laughter grew and grew until it poured forth freely.

He looked up at them again, and stopped laughing.

“KILL THEM!” he roared.

Vorr and the officers came on, raising swords.

Just beyond them Ryn glimpsed a ribbon of blue.

“Now!” shouted Cid.

Ryn grabbed Nuthea’s hand without thinking and jumped with her off the roof of the carriage.

Fluttering free-fall and a weightless stomach.

They hit the water with a chilling splash.