Quinn found Seth at a tavern in the nearby village, and instead of returning to the circus, they plotted to sneak away in the night. Seth had always been the better talker, and after a few candid conversations with the locals, they decided to hitch a ride on one of the many cargo trains that passed through the region. Sharp switchbacks in the rail line forced the trains to slow down east of the town. Armed with a lantern, two bedrolls, a fresh change of clothes, and some dry bread and cheese, the two brothers set off into the knee-high ferns of the forest in search of the switchbacks.

When they came upon the empty tracks, they crouched in the ferns to avoid being seen and doused the lantern. Some time later, a steam engine slowly but dutifully chugged by. Quinn could see the silhouettes of the fireman and the engineer against the yellow light of the engine's cabin. Bravely, Seth raced forward and leapt up onto the ladder leading to the gantry on the second boxcar behind the engine. With significantly less bravery, Quinn followed. Once inside the car, they set out their bedrolls and slept.

It was sometime in the night that Quinn knew something was wrong. The time between each clank clank of the train's wheels was slowly dilating. The churning hiss of the steam engine was gone, replaced by the grinding metallic screech of the train's wheels. In his bones he felt the seeping cold which came from sleeping outside at night.

"Brother," he said. "Brother! Wake up. Something's wrong."

Seth groaned. "It's cold."

Quinn scrambled to his feet in the darkness and felt for the latch to the forward boxcar door. It was so dark outside that he could not see the snowflakes that blasted his face as soon as the door was open. We must be high in the mountains, he realized. Seth struck a match and lit their lantern, which created enough light to reveal the steel walkway leading to the door to the next car.

"We need to get out of here," Quinn said. "Without the engine, we could freeze to death."

"I'll go talk to the engineer," Seth announced.

"No!" Quinn protested, but it was too late. Seth marched forward and started beating the ice off the latch to the next door. The lantern illuminated the closest of the snow-clad trees, which faded like ghosts into the fog as the train screeched down the track.

Hastily, Quinn chased his brother into the next car, through the narrow gaps between stacks of lumber. Blessed warmth radiated from the steam engine when they arrived at the front of the train. The windows to the forward cabin were illuminated from within, and the shadow of a man danced on the trees. Seth began ascending the ladder.

"This is a bad idea," Quinn cried.

Seth began pounding on the door, and he continued pounding until it creaked open. An old man with a lantern stepped out and said: "Who the hell are you?" He saw Quinn attempting to ascend the ladder and he scowled. "Bah. Children! Get inside before you freeze to death."

Once inside the cabin, Seth asked: "Why did you stop the train?"

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"I didn't stop the train," the old man replied. "It's the fireman's fault."

He pointed to a second man at the front of the cabin, standing near the brass-rimmed steam gauges and controls above the boiler backhead. While the old man, who Quinn assumed to be the engineer, wore dark overalls and an oil-stained stained shirt, the fireman wore pitch black robes ornamented with silvery red filigree.

"Stowaways?" the fireman asked.

"Stowaways," the engineer agreed. "From Lyn, by the looks of it. What are you kids doing here? Where are you going?"

"The Theocracy," Quinn answered. "Or the Empire. I don't think it matters. We were working in a circus. Now we're trying to find an army."

The engineer looked completely dumbfounded by this response.

"You didn't answer my question," Seth said.

"The engine stopped working because my ethermancy stopped working," the fireman said flatly.

"Ridiculous," the engineer said. "I've been working in this business for longer than you've been alive, child. Trains don't stop because ethermancy stops working."

"Calm down sir," the fireman said. "How do you think I feel? The Aden family trusted me to use this aura to help run their railroad. When I get back to White Chasm, the Adens are going to make me stand before an oculomancer and explain why I lost their train in the forest."

"You're from White Chasm?" Quinn asked, suddenly excited.

"That's enough," the engineer snapped. "We answered your question, now you'll both keep quiet and wait for the engine to get started again."

"The only reason I can think of," the fireman continued, "is that there is another Heritor nearby, one with a very big aura."

Seth and Quinn both slid down to the floor by the door and waited. The engineer, to his credit, was very diligent in his investigation of the various steam gauges and dials. Quinn took the opportunity to study the fireman. Black and red are the colors of House Aden, he thought. For as long as anyone could remember, the Aden clan had always lorded over the nation of Lyn from their Hanging Throne in the city of White Chasm.

His excitement about meeting a man from White Chasm quickly faded when he reasoned it out. All steam engines in the entire world were operated by a fireman with an aura. He estimated that it might be economical to lease an aura from the bank in order to operate a railroad. But the Adens were Heritors, and they no doubt had dozens of small auras to dole out to their business partners. It was not unreasonable to expect to find a White Chasm aura operating a train so close to Lyn.

His contemplations were interrupted by shouts and whistles from outside. They both stood to peer out the window at the commotion. A small army of mounted soldiers swarmed around the steam engine, illuminating the forest with their torches. They all wore dark blue uniforms and shining brass helmets. The commanding officer began shouting, using a voice worthy of a ship's captain in a thunderstorm: "By the order of Princess Lucia Aden of Lyn, ownership of this transport is hereby transferred to the armies of King Sullivan Blaine of Cloudsea. The fireman operating this transport is hereby ordered to report to Princess Lucia immediately."

"Problem solved," the fireman mused.

Not wanting to be left behind when the engine was abandoned, they followed the fireman down to the forest floor. Many of the soldiers trotted off to search for supplies amongst the boxcars, leaving behind a single woman riding a horse and some northerners with a cart. The lone woman wore hooded black robes with purple epaulets. Quinn froze when her gaze shifted toward them. Her eyes glowed bright purple even through the dense fog.

"Honored oculomancer," the old engineer said. "I would like to report a crime. These young men are stowaways."

"You are not a Heritor," the oculomancer snapped. "Take your complaints to the local constabulary if you must. Young men, I can tell from your bloodline that you are from eastern Lyn. You are invited to serve your princess." She pointed to the cart. "Make yourself useful in the camp and perhaps you will be paid enough to buy new coats. Or freeze to death, it is of no consequence to me."