“How’s the cart?” Thad called down from the driver’s seat. They’d stopped in Mindge for the night, and Abbee was on her way into town for supplies.
She slowed her steps and imagined a messy murder. She couldn’t let on that he’d caused her any discomfort by looting the suite cart. She’d rather die. Abbee smiled up at him. “It’s great. Thanks for going through the trouble to arrange it.”
Thad squinted. “Hmph.”
Abbee walked out of the train yard before she did something permanent to him. She had no trouble arranging a food and water delivery to her suite cart, but she had trouble finding bedding. Mindge was a train town, and there was little market for luxury goods. No satin sheets. In the end, Abbee bought sheets from one of the town’s several inns. She picked the nicest one and paid an exorbitant sum to the innkeeper for a set of his finest bedding. Abbee knew she was leaving a long trail of people who’d remember her, but she implied she was traveling in a different direction whenever possible. At least Thad couldn’t steal anything anymore, since Abbee had discovered a set of keys hanging by the forward door. The exterior doors had locks on them.
She remembered Thad’s threat to leave her behind in the train towns and made sure she returned to the train every evening. Sleeping in the suite cart beat any game in town, anyway. It was quiet, especially when she shut the windows. Whoever had designed the cart had optimized it for peace and comfort.
Mindge gave way to Sarcut and then to Rudson. In Rudson, Abbee opened the cart door as they rolled into the stopover yard, intent on dropping down to go into town—and avoid Thad. She overheard the two drovers on the next cart mention her and paused to listen.
“You know who she is, right?” the woman asked.
“Yeah,” the man said. “The one Nulea threw off the train last week. And here she is, back again, making us work harder than the others. We should be getting a bonus.”
“What we should be getting is the story,” the woman said. “She’s the Butcher of Graywall, Kero.”
“That’s rubbish,” the man, Kero, said. “I heard the Butcher killed fifty men in Graywall in a single night. Chewed them to pieces in a bloody frenzy. The Butcher isn’t a weird woman sitting in luxury in a suite cart at the back of our train, Motilda. He’s the biggest brute of a man you’ve ever seen. He’s still in there, in the deepest, darkest hole they could find.”
The woman, Motilda, snorted. “It’s just like you to attribute every woman’s accomplishments to a man, Kero.”
Their voices faded, and Abbee heard them climb down off the cart. She wondered what they’d meant about causing them extra work, but Kero sounded disagreeable, so Abbee kept her distance during the trip.
They reached Ellerton next. Spending time in the suite cart was immensely better than spending it in the gear cart. This cart had a covered balcony in the back. Since Thad had put her cart on the rear to make it easier to drop, she had an unimpeded view from the rear of the train. Sound baffles on the sides and roof limited road noise to an astonishing degree. Abbee spent much of the trip on the rear balcony. She especially liked sitting back there during rainstorms. The water sheeting off the train, the steady drone of the wheels, and the road disappearing into the distance all lulled her into several naps. It was her favorite spot on the trip. She almost mentioned it to Thad at one point, to thank him for the view, but thought better of it. He’d stick her cart in the middle of the train out of spite.
Abbee checked in on Beyan in Ellerton. The leatherworker’s face split into a wide grin when Abbee entered his shop.
“You’re back,” he said. “How’s the jerkin holding up?”
“You did fine work. Has anyone come through here looking for me?”
Beyan shook his head. “No, nobody. You were the talk of the poker game for a few days, though.” His face brightened. “You could join again today, maybe. Jorad won’t be there.”
“That’s kind of you to offer,” Abbee said, “but no, thank you. I doubt—”
“You sure? Leesa will have more of those strawberry shortbreads.”
“Hmm.”
***
“I’ve got a fifth,” Beyan announced as he and Abbee walked into Leesa’s back room.
Homs and Leesa sat at the table, and the former was shuffling cards.
“I already found one,” Leesa said, her back to the door. “He’s on his way.” She turned around and saw Abbee. “Oh, it’s you. Here to wipe out my shortbread again, are you?”
“I promise to moderate myself.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it. I’ve never seen anyone eat as much as you.”
Thad walked in. “Did someone mention a big eater? Vani Brattle would’ve given you a run—” He stopped when he saw Abbee. “What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Abbee said.
“He’s my fifth,” Leesa said. “You two know each other?”
“Unfortunately,” Abbee said, sitting down next to Beyan.
“Sounds like a story there,” Homs said.
“Not really,” Thad said. “She’s been on my train a couple of times now, and she has … needs.”
Beyan cleared his throat. “Thad, did I hear you mention Vani Brattle? You knew her?”
“Yes,” Thad said. “I didn’t know her know her, but I met her. She was one of those problem passengers I’ve mentioned before. Interesting trip, though.” He chuckled. “I’ve been told that if you want to see somebody eat”—he held his hand out about a meter or so off the floor—“she was this tall and slender as a broomstick but could clear out your entire pantry in one sitting.”
“Glad she’s not here, then,” Leesa said. “Thad, are you going to sit down or not?”
Thad’s body and mind seemed to fight for a few seconds. He grunted and sat down next to Leesa. He smiled at Abbee. An empty smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “So, Leesa, seems like you’re letting just anybody join the poker game these days.”
Leesa sniffed. “It was Beyan. If you’ve got even a whisper of a name in Akken, he’ll invite you.” She shuddered. “Do you remember that opera singer two years ago? Olinar or something. Ghastly showing.”
Beyan flushed. “In my defense, nobody ever said he had that, um, privy problem.”
“Thad, you seem to know everybody already,” Abbee observed.
He nodded. “I’ve been visiting this town for over thirty years. Leesa’s been here the whole time.”
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“Took a couple of decades to convince you to join the poker game, though,” Leesa said.
“He deigns to bless us with his presence for a game a few times a year,” Homs said, “for about five years now.”
“Eleven,” Leesa corrected. “Everything happened five years ago with you.”
“It was the shortbreads that did it,” Thad said as a plate of them arrived via one of Leesa’s cooks. “Ah, good. Put that right here.” He picked out three, no, four shortbreads and pushed the plate into the center of the table, where Abbee snatched up three treats. “If we make good time and the train is in good shape,” Thad continued, “I like to stop by and see how everyone is doing. Homs, the last time I saw you, you were considering building an addition on your store. How did that turn out?”
“He’s still thinking about it,” Beyan said. “One of these days, he’ll make a decision. Maybe.”
Homs snorted. “Every time I think I need it, we hit a dry spell, and then I don’t. Maybe there’ll be another big disaster again. Like after the golems. Definitely didn’t need it then.”
Abbee had been living in the woods with Ipsu for years after the Tower fell. She hadn’t experienced the resulting economic winter firsthand, but everybody who’d lived through it remembered. Abbee had traveled all over the continent, and everyone’s memories were the same. “Bad?”
Homs nodded. “It was like someone turned off the trains, and when they turned them back on again, it was in fits and starts.”
“I couldn’t get strawberries for a couple years,” Leesa said. “The shortbreads were short on flavor.”
“We were short on everything,” Beyan said. He glanced at Thad. “Didn’t see you for, what, three years?”
“Four, I think,” Thad said. “We stayed south of the escarpment. It looked like Kiva might fight Veronna. We didn’t want to get caught in a war zone or conscripted into either army. Everybody wants talented when the fighting starts. That’s probably what made the train traffic so light up here. We stayed around Joor for a long time. It’s warm.”
Homs shuffled one more time and dealt the first round. “Smart to stay in Joor. They weren’t getting involved in any fight up north.”
“I’ve never understood how Joor managed to stay out of that,” Beyan said. “They don’t have anything like Kivan military service. No House soldiers. No walls, no golems. No wizards neither, not even when there were wizards to go around.”
Abbee thought about what Ilo had told her about the monastery shield’s effect on wizards. She almost mentioned it but kept her mouth shut. She’d have to explain where she’d heard that information.
“They do have wizards,” Leesa said. “They’re just in that monastery, and they never come out. Well, every hundred years or something, if you believe the stories.”
“They have police,” Beyan said. “Enforcers. Every single one of them is a mover.”
“Didn’t use to be like that,” Thad said. “The movers. Joor bulked up their talented defenses when it looked like Veronna was having continental aspirations.”
“Joor has the Class Fives,” Beyan said. “They’d make an army’s life miserable before they ever got close to the city.”
Thad shook his head. “That’s like launching a firework from your fist. It’ll work, but you’ll lose your fingers. Every Class Five I’ve ever met had some serious flaws.”
Abbee wondered if she was a true Class Five, like Ilo had suggested. She didn’t think she had any serious flaws, but she suspected Thad might disagree with her. “Like what?” she asked.
“You mean beyond the insufferable superiority?” Thad asked. He inspected his cards. His brow twitched, and he added a coin to the pot. “Well, let me see. Brattle’s temper was inversely proportional to her weight. There’s a torch in Joor who’s addicted to draat, which might be viewed as a plus, since before she spent her days stoned, she used to set everything on fire. Their spout’s sense of humor involves pranks. You might not think that’s a big deal, but when you’re dealing with someone who can destroy whole ships on a clear day with a water tornado … let’s just say the enforcers keep a close watch on that one. Then there’s the shifter rumor, but nobody’s ever seen him.”
“Shifters aren’t real,” Leesa said.
Thad nodded. “I agree, but there are more than a handful of people in Joor who swear they’ve seen the fellow. I think it’s a lightbender playing tricks.” He shot a nasty look at Abbee. “Kind of like that healer in Akken who fights in the bouts. Playing tricks on people.”
Abbee gave him a big smile. “Fold.”
Beyan took a look at his hand. “Me too. I fold.” He grabbed a shortbread treat. “My grandfather told me stories of some twin lightbenders in Morat who used to pretend like they were one shifter.”
Thad nodded. “I heard the same story. Oh, there’s also a rockbreaker who’s got an unwholesome attachment to small children. It’s the reason he’s forbidden from setting foot in Veronna. Word is Catho Stonar sends an assassin every year on his nephew’s birthday, as a reminder.”
“He’s dead, supposedly,” Beyan said. “The rockbreaker.”
“Really?” Thad asked. “Who says?”
“A man was talking about it in my shop a few days ago,” Beyan said.
“Hmph,” Thad said. “Hope that’s true. The world is better without that garbage heap in it.”
“Maybe they have the Class Five Mover in Joor,” Beyan said, “and that’s why—”
Thad snorted. “I doubt it.”
“How do you know?”
“Nobody’s seen any sign of her in, what, nineteen years? Believe me, you’d know if she was around. The city is still there, for starters. Vani Brattle was … a force. You could tell she’d been somewhere by the size of the debris field. I think it’s safe to say she’s gone.”
“There’s a reason nobody’s bothered Joor,” Homs said. “But it’s not the Class Fives. It’s—”
Beyan rolled his eyes. “Oh, here we go.”
“—the Society.”
The entire table groaned, Abbee included. She remembered an old, lunatic patron at Karl’s pub, who’d corner anybody who’d listen, and rave about conspiracy theories. The Society, some shadowy group who controlled Joor and who were responsible for everything, from vanishing artifact chips to Class Fives to bird migrations, featured heavily. They even had a magical portal somewhere in the city that led to other worlds in the sky.
Beyan chuckled. “Homs, the next thing you’re going to say is that goblins discovered Kiva.”
Homs frowned. “Goblins aren’t real, but the Society is.”
“I never took you for a conspiracy theorist, Homs,” Thad said. He looked at the shortbread in his hand. “You didn’t put something in these, did you, Leesa? Am I going to start seeing things that aren’t real?”
“No.” Leesa looked like she’d smelled something bad. “Homs, I distinctly remember saying you could come to this game only if you kept your wild ideas to yourself.”
“This is what they want,” Homs said, looking around the table at their disbelieving faces.
“Homs,” Leesa said in warning.
“Who is ‘they,’ exactly?” Thad asked. “An ancient cabal that controls the world? Like … the Tower, for instance?”
“Please don’t encourage him,” Leesa said. She pointed one bony finger at Homs. “One more word—”
“Okay, okay,” Homs said. His mouth worked and his chest heaved. “But,” he snapped, “they want you to believe they don’t exist. Easier for them to operate.”
“Homs!” Leesa shouted.
“I’m done,” Homs said, mollified. “I’m done. I won’t talk about it anymore.”
They played the rest of the round in silence, save for calls and folds. Thad took the pot with a strong position. Abbee remembered his brow twitch. Two hands later, he folded with an ever-so-slight lip curl. Abbee knew everyone else’s tells from her previous visit, and by the end of the night, she’d cleaned them out. The shortbreads too.
***
Abbee promised Beyan she’d visit the next time she came through, and returned to the train for the night. She was about to turn in when she heard a knock at the forward cart door. The door didn’t have a peephole. She opened the bedroom window and poked her head out. It was dark, and she didn’t see anybody at first. A shape leaned out from between the carts. Abbee couldn’t see in the dark.
“Who are you?” she called out the window.
“Me,” Thad said. “I’ve been speaking to you for the past minute.” He tapped his head. “I know you’re ignoring me, but I need to talk to you.”
Abbee realized he meant his speaker talent. She couldn’t hear him with Ilo’s artifact chip. She counted it as a blessing. “Hang on.” She walked to the front of the cart and unlocked the door. Cracked it open. “What do you want?”
“I wanted to talk to you about the poker game,” Thad said. “About your winnings.”
“I’m not giving you your money back.”
“I don’t care about my money,” Thad said. “Well, I do, but that’s not—look, you shouldn’t be taking advantage of shopkeepers who don’t have much to start with. Not when you’re paying for train rides with rubies.”
Abbee arched a brow. “We’re all adults here. People should know when to quit, and nobody should be playing poker with money they can’t lose. Besides, you threw me off your train.”
Thad frowned. “That last point isn’t related to the first.”
“It means don’t lecture me. You have no idea who I am.”
“Oh?” Thad asked. “You’re not Abbee Danner, literal man-eater? You’re not a constable turned criminal? You’re not a courier who doesn’t ask questions, no matter the client? You’re—”
“Those are all things I’ve done,” Abbee said, annoyed that he knew more about her than she did about him, “not who I am.”
“It doesn’t matter what we think we are in our heart of hearts, Danner. That’s not real. We are what we do. And you take advantage of people who have less than you.”
“I take advantage,” Abbee said. “Everything else is a matter of perspective. Good night.”
She closed the door. A moment later she heard him turn and drop to the ground.
Abbee muttered a curse with Thad’s name in it. She walked back into the sitting room and sat down to take off her boots. She felt a little thrill that she’d irritated Thad. Taken so much of his money.
But her satisfaction was dulled now. Abbee stood by what she’d said. Gambling was something a person did with money they were ready to throw away. But Beyan had been nice to her. Leesa too, in her own prim way. Abbee wondered how much she’d eaten in the form of shortbreads. She sighed. She kicked off her boots and went to bed. Maybe she’d go back into town in the morning and find a reason to spend coin at Beyan’s shop.
In the morning, she awoke to the rattle of the train moving and forgot about the money.