I found a door into the train just as a couple of the Scavengers that I’d trained were about to climb aboard. One of them smacked his crowbar into his hand in a way that, to me at least, suggested a certain enthusiasm about stripping every valuable out of this magnificent machine.

“Woah there, cowboy,” I said and he jerked in alarm and turned to face me. “No looting this thing until we’re sure it can’t be used as it is. It’s way more valuable as a running train than it is as a selection of trinkets.”

He looked like he wanted to object but then he looked over at the train and then back at me and it was clear that he could see where I was coming from.

“I suppose,” he said. “But I want the first loot opportunity if it turns out we can’t use it.”

“I will support your claim to the best of my ability.” I said.

The two men seemed satisfied with that and headed off to search the rest of the Station building. Presumably they were too much in the mood to get their loot on to enjoy exploring the train. Or maybe they were just intimidated by me. I’d heard a few of the Foragers and Scavengers refer to me as “the real deal” because I’d actually chosen it as a profession. It wasn’t a view that I encouraged but I also didn’t actively discourage it either. One of the many things that I’d learned from Agnes was that it doesn’t hurt to keep people a little off balance around you.

The train door was locked, of course it was, but one of the skills that I’d been grinding was PICKING LOCKS, Akira taught me. He might be a terrible edge lord, and he was certainly younger than he claimed but he was a good teacher and he had some very useful skills. My clawed beast hands made lock-picking a little harder than it might otherwise have been but all that meant was I had to get Asser Motram to reinforce my lock-pick handles and occasionally I broke one.

Akira had also taught me GUNPOWDER WEAPONS and CRAFTING GUNPOWDER WEAPONS. I’d almost unlocked the crafting skill anyway but he was kind enough to share his skills. I had been working on a crude shotgun but I was still missing some components. Mainly for the ammunition. You wouldn’t think that a ninja would have gun skills but Akira assured me that it was historically accurate with such fervour that it either had to be true or he had to be pathologically full of shit.

The lock on the train door was old and stiff, so I had to apply some oil before the tumblers would move, but it really didn’t take long to get the door open.

The air inside the train smelled stale but not unhealthy. I had the strong impression that there was some stasis magic at work. Everything indicated that the whole town had been abandoned since the citadel left and there really should have been more damage in all that time. There are processes of corrosion and decay that happen no matter how little used a thing is. It’s just the arrow of time pushing things downhill and into chaos and disorder.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I’d entered at the front of the train, at the part that most resembled the streamlined steam engines of the early 20th Century. Even if it wasn’t based on a steam train, it was still natural to put the motive force at the front. It made sense to people used to being pulled by horses that they should be pulled by some magical-technological beast.

Inside the cabin of the engine was a wall of controls made of brass, steel and glass, most of it still gleaming. Definitely magic. I had no idea what any of it did. We would need to get Artificers and Arcanists in here to figure out if it would ever work again and if so how to make it do anything.

A door in the back of the cabin connected to the rest of the train. Through that door was a short sleeping car full of bunks, presumably for the driving crew. There were dark overcoats, bearing some fancy crest that I couldn’t identify, hanging up in a cupboard by the door back to the control room. Next was a second, longer sleeping car full of sleeping compartments. The compartments had two bunks each and spare uniforms hanging up, either kitchen whites or the dark clothes and white apron combo favoured by waiting staff all over the continent. The bunks in both cars had been stripped and the mattresses were rolled up and placed at the end of each bed. The bunks looked structurally sound but the mattresses would definitely need to be replaced.

Beyond the sleeping cars was an industrial kitchen almost as large as the one that we had back at the Safehold. It was in just as good condition as the control room had been. I might not know how to get the train moving but I had a much better idea of how to get a kitchen running again and I was pretty sure that it wouldn’t be too hard. A couple of days work at most.

Beyond the kitchen car was a dining car as fine as anything I’d seen in a film but at least twice as wide and three times the length. It was full of tables and bench seats all shrouded with dust sheets coated in a layer of dust at least an inch thick. I checked under the sheets and the furniture seemed sound. That was slightly less surprising than the pristine condition of the controls but still unusual.

Further investigation of the dining car revealed a sideboard full of cutlery. My Scavenger career came with an ability to sense the composition of metal objects and these were all silver, not silver plate, solid silver. The cutlery alone was worth a fortune, if I’d had anyone to sell it to. I left it where it was. Should I decide to turn my back on the Citadel and run then I might be tempted by the silver. But if I was running then the silver would only weigh me down.

The rest of the train seemed to alternate sleeping cars containing compartments of varying sizes and numbers of bunks, and seating cars with various themed entertainments. There were a couple that had rows of seats and huge windows, obviously just for taking in the views. There was one car that looked set up as a bar or nightclub and another with gaming tables that was probably intended to be a casino. There was one car with lower chairs and bright colours everywhere that looked like it was meant for children. I wasn’t sure if it was meant as a play area or as a school. Most impressive of all was the library car packed with books that mostly seemed to be in readable condition. Amris and Gertrude were going to be delighted even if the train never moved again.

It was probably time to get back to the Citadel and tell someone what I’d found. The council would want to know.

If I had known then what the train was going to lead us to then I would have doused it in all the lamp oil I could find and burned it.