The lightning strike illumined the scene for an instant, long enough to reveal a glimpse of twenty or so bodies carrying shotguns, pickaxes, and pitchforks. A poor man’s army, but they seemed angry and determined. Memories of the Thaulgant Brigands rose in my mind, and ice filled my veins.
My manmade heart seized, and I stumbled, sinking to my knees.
Wheezing, I clutched at my chest as the ghost of my old agony burned like fire behind my sternum.
Breathe, girl, breathe, Grandfather urged. Don’t let the panic take you.
Niffin echoed my grandfather’s commands. Grasping my shoulders, he held me close. “Easy,” he whispered in my ear. “Be easy and take a breath. Remember who you are. What you are.”
I shrugged him off, sucked down my panic, and stumbled away, searching for another ladder.
“Where are you going?” Brahm barked.
“To try to stop this before someone gets hurt. Or worse.” After jumping to the car behind me, I found a ladder and shimmied down to the platform between two first-class carriages. Lamps inside the car cast pale, ghostly light on passengers pressing against the windows, watching, eyes wide with fright. As soon as I reached the platform, I jumped to the tracks and raced after the train’s hired guards.
Gravel crunched as someone hit the ground behind me. I looked back long enough to catch a glimpse of Brahm closing in and Niffin sliding down the ladder, not bothering with the rungs.
“Stay back,” I said. “Let me handle this.”
“Not on your life,” Brahm bellowed. With fists clenched like sledgehammers, he raced forward, surging into the fight, leaving me behind.
Brahm and the guards had nearly reached the bandits, and the two groups raised their voices, shouting at each other, volleying threats and warnings. A gunshot exploded. Then another. Someone screamed, and like rams locking horns, the two gangs crashed together. Brahm put his fists to work, punching, striking, beating. He was a relentless machine, but despite my uncertainty about him, I didn’t want to see him, or anyone else, get hurt.
Tossing out a desperate net woven purely from willpower, I dragged in more clouds and crushed them like fistfuls of grapes. A deluge plunged from the skies, raindrops striking like bullets, but instead of killing, my assault might’ve saved a few lives.
I advanced on the melee and heaved in a huge breath. Letting it out with a powerful exhalation, I envisioned hurricanes, tornadoes, and brutal winter gales.
Whipping currents roared down the tracks, scattering guards and bandits like corn stalks in a hailstorm. Niffin braced beside me, feet wide, shoulders rigid. He was as drenched as I was but stood boldly against the raging winds.
I threw my hands wide and brought them together in a massive clap. Thunderclouds clashed overhead, the concussion blasting through us all like a bomb. Gasping, Niffin trembled, nearly losing his balance. I locked my knees and shoulders, caught a streak of lightning, and hurtled it into the gravel beside the tracks. A geyser of rocks sprayed over the crowd, scattering the mob farther apart. They eddied like currents in a raging river, confused and uncertain which direction to take, where to run to escape the onslaught of winds and rain, thunder and lightning.
“Now what?” Niffin shouted over the roaring storm. He was a shadow, and only his body heat indicated his proximity. “They’re not fighting now, but they’ll be back to it once the storm ends.”
He was right. My only goal had been to defuse the fight, but how did I keep it from reigniting? “What if the storm doesn’t end? If I can keep it going like this, maybe they’ll give up and go home, back to where it’s warm and dry.”
“Can you do that?” Brahm asked, materializing from the gloom like a gory specter.
I recoiled from him. “Do what?”
Blood dripped from his nose, running in rivulets along his upper lip. He wiped it clean against his shirtsleeve then turned aside and spat. “Keep up the storm long enough to chase the bandits away.”
I gritted my teeth. It was probably too late for playing dumb, but I tried anyway. “Why are you asking me?”
His big hand latched around my upper arm. He yanked me close and lowered his voice. “I know who you are, Lady Thunder.”
Dread seized me in a crushing fist. I struggled, trying to free myself, but Brahm’s grip was iron. Niffin and I hadn’t practiced escaping from this kind of hold yet, but I had other tricks to use against him—electrifying ones—if needed. “But I don’t know who you are,” I said.
“Gideon sent me to help you.”
I gasped. “Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”
“The fewer people who know the truth about you and me, the better.”
“And I’m just supposed to believe you? Trust you? How do I know you aren’t Le Poing Fermé or one of Lord Daeg’s agents?”
Brahm bared his teeth as another ripple of lightning strobed across the sky. The rain had plastered his hair to his forehead, and stark shadows cut deep lines around his mouth and bent nose, turning his face into a sinister mask. “I would never work for a bastard like Daeg.”
“Still don’t trust you.”
“Sher-sah,” he replied. “Genevieve, Falak, Svieta.”
I froze, heart quaking at the mention of my dear friends. Each day since I’d left them, I prayed for their well-being. “H-How do you—”
“Gideon gave me their names, said it might be the only way to convince you I am who I say, and that he really did send me.”
Again, I jerked against his grip, and this time, he let me go. I quavered, not realizing how much energy the storms had drained from me. Braham reached to steady me, but I waved him off.
“We’ll talk about this later,” I said.
I drew down another lightning bolt, illuminating the dark shapes of angry farmers scattering down the tracks, retreating farther from the train. Was it too much to hope they might be giving up and heading home? The train guards held their place as if uncertain whether to let them go or give chase.
Dimly I was aware of exhaustion tugging at my bones and joints, weighing me down. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.” The rain diminished as my strength faded. A tremor quavered down my back and settled into my knees.
A body bumped against me, and an arm slid around my shoulders. Malita’s familiar scent of lilac soap filled my nose. Her warmth bled through my wet clothes.
“You shouldn’t be here.” I leaned into her despite myself. “I’m not sure the fight’s really over. It’s safer in the train.”
She snorted, dismissing my concerns. “We are safer together, no?”
Clinging to her, I reached deep and drew from my inmost reserves. The rain persisted. Thunder rumbled. Winds wailed. I held on until my body ached. My muscles trembled, melting into mush. One final burst of lightning bankrupted me, but its light confirmed the tracks had cleared, and only the train’s private guards remained.
“You!” A guardsman noted our motley group. “What are you doing here? Go back to the train.”
“The tracks...” Niffin said. “Are they damaged?”
“That’s none of your concern right now. Get back inside and await further instructions.”
None of us argued. Instead, Brahm lent his strength and steadied my shaky steps as we trundled to our car. We huddled together in the aisle, careful not to drip on our fellow passengers while Brahm’s companions rallied around us, shouting questions and demanding answers. He ignored them and tugged his flask from his pocket. After swallowing a sip, he passed the liquor to me, and I downed a huge, warming gulp.
Brahm whistled and sliced his hand through the air. His friends fell silent. “There was an attack on the tracks, an explosion, but the storm stopped it before it could get out of control. The guards are inspecting the rails and said they’d make an announcement in a little while. All we can do now is wait.”
“Thank the gods for that storm,” someone muttered.
Braham and Niffin must have heard the remark as well. They both glanced at me and grinned. I bit my lip, trying not to laugh, but when Niffin snickered, my dam broke, and a flood of laughter poured out. I sank to the floor, giggling, hiccupping, not caring that the other passengers were looking at me like I’d lost my mind. “Thank the gods, indeed.”
As the night stretched toward dawn, I found myself wishing I could temporarily trade my powers over the storms for the ability to generate a fire. Perhaps a Magician could cast a drying spell, but no one in our party possessed such abilities. A thick quiet had fallen over our train car, disturbed only by the occasional grunt, moan, or snore
Niffin and Malita snuggled close, arms drawn around each other. I sat near Brahm but kept a respectable distance. While I’d decided to believe he was Gideon’s agent, I didn’t know him well enough to seek or accept his comfort. So I gritted my teeth and leaned against the nearest wall, drifting in and out of sleep.
