Abbee stayed on the train when they stopped for the night in Streamdale. She had enough food and water in the cart for a few days, and she didn’t care to see Thad for another lecture on morality. He seemed like the lecturing type. Abbee had met a few people like him in her travels, and each of them had felt compelled to share their philosophy with everyone they met.
She wasn’t that lucky. A few hours into the evening, she heard a knock.
Abbee went to the door. “Who is it?”
“It’s me,” Thad said. “You didn’t know? I’ve been—look, I need to talk to you.”
Abbee cracked the door. Light from inside her cart spilled out and illuminated the landing.
Thad was alone. “You can’t hear me, can you?” He tapped his head. “You can’t hear me speaking to you. I thought you’ve been ignoring me, but you’re not, are you? You can’t hear me.”
“No,” Abbee said. “I can’t.”
“How? You’re not a refractor. Nulea and Jikka have both grabbed you with their gifts. How?” Thad’s eyes widened. “You have a chip. A blocker. Where did you—oh, you got it from Ilo.”
“Do I have to stand here while you figure everything out?” Abbee asked. “It’s late.”
Thad cocked his head at her. “I don’t have one, and I—why would Ilo give you a blocker? What do you know?”
“If he didn’t tell you, I won’t either. Good night.”
Thad stopped the door from closing with his foot. “Wait. There’s something else. The big story here in Streamdale right now is that local woodsmen found a body in the forest yesterday. A couple kilometers from town.”
“Okay.”
“A man, they say,” Thad continued. “Torn up by animals pretty bad, but it looks to be Davin Porter, a local game hunter who went missing last month.” Abbee had a name now to go with the shifty fellow too quick with his bow. “He’d been shot with a bunch of arrows, looked like, but no arrows nearby. Which was weird, because they found him near the remains of a deer carcass. Someone had dressed it but only taken a quarter of the meat. The deer had been brought down by arrows too, but none to be found. They commented that the grouping on Porter seemed tight. They thought he’d been shot after he died. In the face. Townsfolk say he wasn’t the most agreeable fellow, but not to that extent.”
“I’m still waiting for you to make an argument for why I should care.”
Thad squinted. “Tight grouping could’ve come from that bolt thrower of yours. Three bolts—”
“Maybe. Or could be like you said—somebody didn’t like him. Maybe they wanted to make a statement.”
“If someone was making a statement, they’d have left the arrows in him.”
Abbee shrugged. “I don’t know why people do what they do.”
“He had a family,” Thad said. “Two little boys.”
Abbee pictured two dirty bridgies. They’ll manage. I did. “Is this going to be a recurring thing? You going to show up on my doorstep every night and give a pretentious little speech?” She cocked her head. “You do this to all your drovers? You do, don’t you? How many people get fed up with it and leave? Or do you somehow attract damaged people who think they deserve being talked down to all day?” She swept his foot out of the way.
Thad stepped back. “Nobody has everything figured out, Danner. We’re all trying together.”
“Great,” Abbee said. “Work together by yourselves, and leave me out of it.” She shut the door.
The cart rocked a little when Thad jumped off it. Abbee went into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a glass. She poured herself two fingers and drank it in one go. The whiskey burned going down. Thad. She thought about the rest of her trip, wondering what else he’d find fault with and lecture her about. Thought about the odds she’d make it to Joor without shooting him. Low. They are low.
Abbee poured more whiskey into her glass and put the bottle away. Something Thad had said tickled her memory. She glanced at the repeating bolt thrower on her left forearm. The grouping. She’d not used the bolt thrower in front of Thad, and until she’d worn one, Abbee hadn’t known how many bolts it shot, nor the grouping.
“Hmph,” she said aloud, and downed the whiskey.
***
The train reached the escarpment tunnels late in the afternoon the following day. Abbee paced inside the suite cart at the top checkpoint. Every time her circuit looped around the rearmost window, she looked out at Akken’s Overlook District, across the escarpment. Checked the road from the city. It was late afternoon, and foot and cart traffic was minimal. Abbee didn’t see anyone suspicious, but that didn’t stop her looking.
The train began moving again and started down the tunnel. Clanks reverberated through the floor as each cart crested the top of the tunnel and added its weight to the front of the train. The squealing and shrieking of stressed brakes penetrated even the suite cart’s insulated walls. Abbee felt her cart roll into the tunnel, and the scene outside changed to stone. The train crept downward with a steady scream of constant brake pressure. The tunnel was five kilometers long, and descents took an hour. Abbee pulled her hood up over her head to block the sound. A minute later she pressed her fingers in her ears.
Abbee kept pacing on the way down the tunnel. Stopping in Akken for the night was dangerous. It had been over a month, but Abbee couldn’t assume that people had stopped looking for her. She couldn’t decide if she should stay on the train in the yard overnight or venture out into the city. Check on her own status. She also wanted to find out if her seashell parcel had arrived safely, but she knew she couldn’t. If the hunters were still looking for her, they’d be watching everyone Abbee knew. She couldn’t even ask anyone about the apartment in the quarry. Definitely couldn’t ask after news of Ipsu’s body. It bothered her that she hadn’t been able to say goodbye. It bothered her more that it even bothered her.
The train rolled out of the tunnel and picked up speed as the drovers eased off the brakes. Abbee let go of her ears. A few minutes later, when she was sure they’d start braking to turn onto the train yard road, she watched the road whip past instead. She frowned. They weren’t stopping. She looked out the west window. The sun was low in the sky. The train turned west as the road took them past Akken. The roaring wheels ahead changed in tone, and the view outside the window added flashing stone columns. The bridge crossing the Charrin. A few seconds later, they’d cleared the bridge, and the train road turned southwest.
They weren’t stopping in Akken at all. That didn’t make any sense. Sildbern was the next train town, and that was a nine-hour ride from Akken. They wouldn’t make it before dark. Abbee wondered why Thad would skip Akken. She wondered what he knew and she didn’t.
A few hours later, when the sun had slipped below the horizon and it became too dark for Abbee to see outside her windows, the train rolled to a stop. Abbee heard drovers climbing down off the train. Shouts to set up camp. Abbee left her cart and walked forward, dodging drovers. She found Thad at the lead cart.
He saw her coming and shook his head at her. “I don’t have time for you right now.”
“Why didn’t you stop in Akken?” Abbee asked.
Thad looked around and sighed. He jerked his head at her and walked away from the train, out into the middle of the continental road. Abbee followed. It felt strange to stand in the middle of a continental road. They were on the top of a hill, and it was dark in both directions. She knew she’d hear a train before she saw it, and there were no trains out here in the night, but she still felt anxious about getting run over.
“What are we doing all the way out here?” Abbee asked.
“I didn’t stop in Akken because of you,” Thad said in a low voice, “in case there were any hunters or sniffers in the yards. There weren’t any at the checkpoint, none that I saw, but I didn’t want to chance it.”
“Why? Did something happen?”
“Yeah. I got a message from Ilo. I—”
“A message?” Abbee interrupted. “What message?”
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“If you shut up a minute, I’ll tell you. Hunters came to Kiva. Ilo and Marin are fine—nobody came to the inn. They’ve taken steps to avoid sniffers, which is good, because the hunters had one with them. They roughed up several jewelers and made a scene at the bank before Kivan constables chased them out. They left by continental. They’re two days behind us.”
Two days. Abbee drew a deep breath and let it out. She knew the hunters must have found the greedy jeweler she’d used to exchange her gems. Knew he’d told them about her. The bank too, and that trinket shop. They had a sniffer this time, to go everywhere Abbee had been. She folded her arms. Unfolded them.
“How do they know to follow us to Joor?”
“If they picked up your trail in the train yard, they’ll know which train you boarded. They’ll have checked the shipping manifests and found out where our cargo is bound.”
“When did you find out about all of this?”
“Yesterday,” Thad said. “In Streamdale.”
“What? Yesterday? So you knew about it when you were accusing me of killing that game hunter. Why didn’t—”
“Because you can’t do anything about it,” Thad said, “and I don’t need a paranoid lunatic on my train, jumping at every shadow. I was—”
“Lunatic? So far, you’ve been the paranoid one.”
“Well, you know about it now,” Thad said. He pointed at the trees. “You want to run off, exit’s right there. You’d be doing me a favor.”
Abbee wasn’t leaving the train, not with hunters two days behind her. She didn’t even want to stop here for the night, but any ground she gained on foot, Thad would erase it within an hour in the morning. She didn’t like standing in one spot. Hated feeling like prey.
Thad dropped his arm. “No? Not going to run into the woods?”
“If I did that,” Abbee said, “I’d miss your amazing hospitality. Don’t keep things from me.”
“I’ll do whatever I think is right to protect my crew,” Thad declared. “You’re certainly not going to do that. You only care about yourself.”
A drover near the front of the train called his name.
“I’ll get you to Joor because I gave Ilo my word. My only hope is that you don’t get me and my entire crew killed for it.” He turned and walked away.
Abbee wished she could shoot him. Wished Ilo had put her on any train but this one. She wondered how different her life would be right now if she’d taken up Henk Slempy on his drunken proposition, and Ipsu had died alone in her apartment.
Bile churned in her stomach at both ideas.
***
Later that same night, Abbee heard voices on the ground outside her cart. Moving forward to back. Sounded like arguing. She went aft and eased the balcony door open. Crisp night air blew over her skin, and the voices grew louder.
“… dangerous, Thad,” Nulea said. “The moon’s out. You might see better, but so can they.”
“We’re not getting that close,” Thad said.
He and Nulea walked past Abbee’s cart. A third drover walked behind them. Abbee stepped out onto the balcony and closed the door to block the cart’s light. She pressed herself into a shadow.
“Why risk it?” Nulea countered. “We can find out from woodsmen in this area. We can ask in Sildbern tomorrow. They’ll have news.”
“I’ve been over this,” Thad said. “Nobody talks about what happens out there. Nobody. And besides, if we ask in Sildbern, someone will remember us asking, and—”
“It’s not like it’s a secret,” Nulea said. “It’s big news for everyone. It’s the big project out in the woods. The place they take the golems. Everybody asks about it. Asking in Sildbern isn’t going to draw attention. Sneaking out there in the dark will. Especially if you get caught.”
“We’re not going to get caught,” Thad said. “Keep an eye on the train. C’mon, Jikka.”
Thad and the other drover, Jikka, trotted down the road. A few hundred yards back, they disappeared into the woods. Nulea turned around and walked back toward the camp the drovers had set up near the lead cart. She didn’t look in Abbee’s direction.
Abbee wondered why Thad would be interested in the university’s project out here. She supposed its secrecy was enough to pique anyone’s curiosity, but she hadn’t paid it much attention. The golem drivers working in the quarry hadn’t paid it much attention either. Some drivers had come out here to work. Abbee realized she hadn’t heard about any drivers coming back to Akken. The project had been going on for months. Nobody came back. Maybe Thad was onto something.
She considered following Thad and Jikka but discarded the idea. Even with the moon, tracking in the dark under a forest canopy was near impossible. She’d have to use her thumb light to see where she was going. Too visible. Abbee sat in the shadows on her cart’s balcony and waited for Thad to return. She wanted to know what he was doing out here. She wondered if his excuse for not stopping in Akken was a ruse, and he’d meant to come here all along. Abbee nodded off several times. The stress of worrying about stopping in Akken, fighting with Thad, worrying about the hunters chasing her, it all wore her out. She waited a long time.
***
Drovers climbing on the train woke her in the morning. Dawn painted the sky in yellow and purple hues. Abbee swore. She’d missed Thad returning from his nocturnal observations. She briefly considered tracking him down and asking him about them, but she doubted he’d say anything. Thad hadn’t promptly shared information about the hunters, so he wasn’t going to say why he had been snooping around the big university project in the dark.
Abbee climbed to her feet and went inside her cart. She felt groggy, and her neck ached from sleeping in a sitting position. Abbee drank some water, kicked off her boots, and climbed into bed. She fell asleep before the train got underway and slept the whole morning.
The sun was still high in the sky when they reached Sildbern. They didn’t stop. Abbee watched from her rear balcony as the train town disappeared behind a hill. When they rolled to a halt on the side of the road, it was dark. Abbee opened the front door to listen to Kero and Motilda as they climbed down off the next cart.
“Two nights in a row?” Motilda asked. “What’s the rush?”
“Dunno,” Kero said. “I was looking forward to a night in Akken. I asked Nulea about it this morning, and she told me to mind my own business.”
“Leeja says she saw Thad and Jikka coming out of the woods last night,” Motilda reported. “She got up to pee and saw them. I bet they went out to that dig site.”
“Hmph. I wonder if they saw anything. I’ll ask Jikka.”
“She won’t tell you anything.”
“She tells me quite a bit after a dock. You would too, if we—”
“Forget it,” Motilda said. “You know that I don’t sleep with crew. But, uh … tell me what she says.”
Kero smirked. “Which part?”
“Don’t be disgusting.”
***
They skipped the next train town, Ashby, the following day, and Dalerton the day after that. Tensions were high on the train when Thad finally deigned to roll into Lencoe, the last town before Joor. Abbee had been getting dark looks from every drover since skipping Sildbern. It might have been better had she been stuck with them in the same dirty conditions, but she had the suite cart. She’d offered her privy to Kero and Motilda as a peace offering, only to discover Thad had forbidden any of them from going anywhere near Abbee for the trip. The Lencoe bathhouses had relieved customers that evening.
Abbee stayed on the train. Partly because they might remember her in Lencoe. She wanted to go into town and tell off Gerro, but that was too dangerous with sniffers on her trail. The last place where she’d touched the ground was south of Akken, when she’d argued with Thad in the middle of the road. Before that, Ellerton. Beyan. Abbee hoped he and the others were all right. They weren’t involved in her activities, but she doubted the hunters would see it that way. Abbee wished she hadn’t spent so much time in Ellerton. Wished she hadn’t been friendly. Every time Abbee made friends, they got hurt. Ipsu had been right on that score.
A dull clank woke Abbee the next morning. She heard muffled shouts, and the floor vibrated with impacts. Abbee opened the suite cart’s front door and found Kero banging a connection pin into the joint.
“What’s going on?” Abbee asked.
“Swapping out some carts,” Kero said.
“What for?”
Kero gave the pin one last swing of his mallet. “Dunno, but we’ve switched out every cart except for yours.”
“Is that normal?” Abbee asked.
“Not really, and nobody seems to know why. Well, Thad does, but when I asked, he told me in no uncertain terms to mind my own business.” He straightened. “Motilda!”
The other drover leaned over the edge of the roof. “We good?”
“We’re good. Tell Thad we can leave.” He glanced at Abbee. “Hope you didn’t need anything from town.”
Abbee went back inside as the train lurched out of the yard. She figured she’d ask Thad about it when they stopped in Joor later that evening.
She didn’t get the chance. The train stopped on the side of the road at midday. Abbee leaned out of the front door to listen to drover chatter, but neither Kero nor Motilda seemed to know why they’d stopped.
Thad appeared at the foot of the steps. He saw Abbee. “I’m dropping you here.”
“Where’s here?” Abbee asked.
“We’re about five kilometers from Joor. The fork to the Morat Road is over the next hill. We’re going that way.”
“You’re not going to Joor?”
Thad shook his head. “We’re not.”
“This is why you switched out your carts this morning,” Abbee said.
“That’s right. I’m not putting my crew in any more danger than they’re already in. Hunters will have a harder time picking up your trail if you come in through the East Gate. They’ll be expecting you to arrive via the train yard, so—”
“Did you say hunters?” Kero called down from the next cart. “Do you mean woodsmen, or wizard—”
“Hey!” Thad snapped. “What did I tell you about being nosy, Kero?”
“Whoa, whoa,” Kero said. “Forget I said anything.”
Thad turned back to Abbee and lowered his voice. “Remember, you’ve got two days to do whatever it is you’re doing here. Then you’re on borrowed time.”
“What did you find at the university site?” Abbee asked. When Thad frowned at her, she added, “I saw you and Jikka go into the woods that night.”
Thad gestured at her. “You’ve got five minutes to get your stuff and leave. After that, we’ll toss you off like we did last time.”
“You’re a piece of work. Do you know that?”
“Time’s wasting, Danner.”
Abbee went back inside and gathered her things. It didn’t take long. She swept back to front, opening all the drawers and cupboards to make sure she hadn’t accidentally left something somewhere. When she got to the front part of the cabin, she went through her pouches and ensured everything was in its place.
“Out of curiosity,” Thad said when she came back out, “how was everything? With the cart.”
“It would have been better had it been stocked,” Abbee said. She hopped down to the ground and oriented herself. She walked across the road. When Thad followed, she added, “If you’re looking for a tip, don’t hold your breath. You promised to see me to Joor. This isn’t it.”
“We’re close enough,” Thad said. “My conscience is clear.” He stretched theatrically. “I’ll sleep great tonight, like every other night on this trip.”
Abbee felt her jaw drop. The bastard was talking about the bedsheets. Her bedsheets. He’d stolen them and had been using them this entire trip. She hissed and brought her left arm up.
Thad arched a brow. “Hunters will stop here if their sniffer smells a murder scene. You know they can pick up on that, right?”
Abbee did know. Sniffers were strange. They mostly worked on scent, like a bloodhound, but they also smelled violence. None of them had ever explained it to her in a way she understood. She didn’t know if a sniffer could pick up on violent death while traveling on a continental, but she wasn’t about to test it here. Though she wanted to. She wanted it so bad. Abbee couldn’t even punch him. Not in front of a train full of drovers. She’d land one, maybe two hits before they immobilized her. It would be worth it.
She didn’t hit him. Didn’t even swear at him. Abbee turned on her heel and disappeared into the woods.