“I am watching them,” Niffin said in Inselgrish, his voice low and soft. “Try your best to ignore them.”
I faced frontward and sank lower in my seat, tugging my jacket collar higher on my neck. Why hadn’t I thought to stop at a bookshop while we were killing time touring the city? Not that I needed to spend my funds on frivolous things, but the train ride would be long, and I doubted I’d sleep easily—or at all, not with the rowdy boys in the back and the threat of bandits on the rail line.
As if reading my mind, Niffin slipped his fingers in his coat pocket and withdrew a pack of cards. He waggled them at me. “Squint?”
“Of course.” I slid to the end of my bench and held out my hand, urging him to deal. I’d been playing squint since childhood, but the Fantazikes had added their own twist, making it a game that required a bit of skill and not mere luck.
Like the barks of a wild dog pack, sharp laughter from the back of the train car disturbed the quiet and raised the hairs on my neck. Glancing from the corner of my eye, I spotted the tall boy raising a flask to his lips before passing it to his companions.
Niffin cleared his throat, reclaiming my attention, and cut the cards while someone on the platform outside shouted shrilly, announcing our departure. The train shivered and shook. Our car lurched, swaying drunkenly until the train gained momentum. The sway turned into subtle rocking, echoed by the wheels’ steady clickety-clack clack clack. Niffin shuffled cards several times, his deft and nimble fingers flashing too quickly to follow. He patted the cards into a neat stack and dealt them between the three of us until we each clutched a set of five.
Malita focused on her cards, organizing them to her liking. “If Melainey and Benoit were here, they would make the loser drink whiskey.”
“And Benoit would be drunk by the second hand.” A pang of regret squeezed my heart. Niffin’s family had briefly been my family. The pain of their absence would fade in time, but for now it was still sharp. I could only imagine how hard leaving them must have been for Niffin. It must have felt like being punished when the only thing he’d done wrong was being a friend to me.
A shadow fell over me. I glanced up and was surprised to find the tall boy standing over us, smirking as he sipped from his flask. Lantern light flickered on dark hair combed back from his high forehead. “What is this game, friends?” He spoke in Inselgrish, which set me on guard. It wasn’t impossible that a stranger might speak my home language, but it was an unlikely coincidence.
“Squint,” I said. “Do you know it?”
“Yes, of course, but you’re playing it all wrong.”
“It’s a variation.”
His dark eyebrows drew together, emphasizing the crook in his nose, probably a break that hadn’t healed right. Despite his fancy suit, he looked like a fighter. The Fantazikes’ boxers had scarred ears and bruised knuckles like his.
“Teach it to me.” His tone was light, but insistent.
I glanced at the car’s rear, but his rowdy companions were ignoring us, their attention focused solely on themselves. One young man said something, and the other two laughed.
Meeting Niffin’s steely gaze, I shrugged. “Why not? It’s more fun with four, anyway.” Besides, I was afraid of how the stranger would react if we told him no, and it was too early in our trip to start flinging lightning bolts.
I slid over and pointed at the empty space beside me, gesturing for him to sit. “My name’s Liesl.”
“You can call me Brahm.” He folded his big frame into the space beside me and shoved his flask at me, offering a drink. I waved it off, but he insisted.
Wanting to keep the peace, I took a shallow sip. Coughing and spluttering as the sweet liquor burned a path down my throat, I pounded my chest and wiped tears from my eyes while the others laughed at me. The burn eased, turning into a warm little flame in my belly. “S’not so bad—” I coughed again. “Once you get used to it.”
Brahm motioned for Niffin to deal him in. “Who are your friends, Liesl?”
“That’s Niffin.” We hadn’t bothered coming up with fake names for them because we doubted any of my enemies knew them in the first place. “And Malita.”
“Where are you headed?”
“Steinerland. You?”
“Steinerland too. I’m boxing there on the weekend, an exhibition match, but I’m hoping to pick up a few paying fights.”
I waved my cards at his friends. “Are they boxers too?”
Glancing at his companions, he grimaced. “Those idiots?”
His friends crouched in the aisle near the rear wall, rolling a pair of dice and exchanging money.
“They’re just along for the ride. Looking for adventure.”
“If the rumors the ticket seller told me are true, then we might have one.”
“One what?”
“An adventure.” I glanced at his knuckles again and found them comforting. A competitive boxer might make a good ally, if not for winning back kingdoms, then at least for ensuring I’d survive the train trip to Steinerland.
Brahm’s forehead crinkled. “You mean the bandits?”
I nodded.
“I’m not worried.” He rubbed the crook in his nose. It seemed like an unconscious gesture, and I wondered if he repeated it any time he was anticipating a fight. “I can handle myself.”
As the night wore on, our fellow travelers quieted, and many had fallen asleep. The old man in front of me had balled up his coat and used it like a pillow, cushioning his head as he dozed against the window. Malita turned in her cards and curled up in her seat, leaning on Niffin, her eyes closed.
Weariness urged me to find my own corner in which to ball up and go to sleep, but a wary sense of dread hummed in my veins. If the bandits were out there, I wouldn’t let them catch me with my guard down. And while I’d warmed up to Brahm, I didn’t dare close my eyes around him, not with a fat coin purse in my pocket.
I set down my cards and stood, stretching until my back popped.
Niffin glanced at me, his brow wrinkled. “What are you doing?”
“My rear end’s numb. I think I’ll stretch my legs. Get some fresh air.”
Brahm rose beside me. “Good idea. I’ll come with you.”
