An objection rose in my throat, but I swallowed it. What was the harm in letting him come, as long as he kept his hands to himself? Perhaps I could get him talking and find out why he was so interested in me. Gaining a stranger’s sudden attention was rarely a good thing, in my experience. I waved toward the front of our car. “Lead the way.”
As we shuffled out of our seats, Niffin caught my hand and gave me a look full of warning, silently urging me to be careful. I nodded and followed Brahm through sliding doors onto the exterior platform. Harsh winds tugged at my hair. The wheels’ clacking was sharper, their vibrations rising through the platform like a second heartbeat pulsing through my feet. I raked loose hairs behind my ear as I braced against the railing and peered around the train cars. We were passing through a thick forest that blotted out the thin moonlight and obstructed the stars, but the brisk air chased away my drowsiness.
A flame flickered, illuminating Brahm’s face as he lit a cigarette. He shook out his match, and darkness enveloped us again. He offered the cigarette to me, bringing the burning ember close to my face. Waving him off, I raised my voice over the rushing air and clattering wheels. “I came out for fresh air, remember?”
His shoes scraped against the iron platform, and the movement of his cigarette showed he had leaned out and was staring down the tracks. “The forest will give out soon. Then we’ll be in farm country. Open fields for a hundred miles or more.”
An icy finger stroked my spine, and I shivered. “Farm country is bandit territory, right? The ticket agent said drought has made the farmers desperate.”
Brahm shuffled closer, and the scent of burning tobacco intensified. “If they’re going to strike, it will be then, once we’ve left the shelter of the trees.”
“Have you fought them before?”
“No. But I’ve spent my whole life fighting. I’m not worried.” He paused. “Are you? Your friend in there, Niffin... He’s more cunning than he looks. Will he protect you and your other friend?”
I snorted. “I might not be a boxer, but I can protect myself.”
“Oh?”
Go ahead and underestimate me. It’ll only give me a greater advantage. I clutched the iron railing, ignoring the tingle of cold metal against my palms, and combed the skies with my will. Grandfather’s spirit stirred, quiet but awake. Ready. Eager. “You don’t have to believe me.”
Belief was the fuel for my powers, and the Fantazikes, the members of Le Cirque de Merveilles Mécanique, Malita, and my grandfather had provided me with enough faith to whip the storms into a fury.
“You certainly seem fierce,” Brahm said. “But I’ve seen many people swagger and preen until the moment they spot my fist flying toward their face. Then they wilt like old cabbage. Why should you be any different?”
“Because...” Casting my net, I let my subconscious drift, searching for subtle eddies in the wind currents, changes in pressure, pockets of moisture. Storms were out there, waiting for me, and the more I could draw in, the better. “I’ve been hit more times than you can imagine, and I’m still standing.”
Leaning over the platform railing again, I watched the front of the train. My vision had adjusted to the darkness, and the landscape’s flat shadows had gained shape and depth. I exhaled and drew a web of distant lightning across the sky. To Brahm, it likely appeared as little more than heat lightning on a late-summer night. To me, the slight flash provided enough light to reveal subtleties in the train’s exterior. I spotted a ladder near our platform then hiked my leg over the railing, ignored the warnings in my head, and clutched the closest rung.
Wind screamed in my ears, nearly drowning out Brahm’s cry. “What in the Shadowlands are you doing?”
Violent gusts ripped at my hair and coat as I climbed the ladder. Ignoring Brahm, I reached the roof and crawled to the center of our train car where the rocking and swaying seemed less likely to throw me overboard. From there, I could see our surroundings plainly. The last trees fell away behind us. We plowed through open countryside, zooming beside open fields.
Brahm’s dark head popped up at the roof’s edge, his hair fluttering like pennants on a battlefield. “Liesl, have you gone mad?”
“I’m trying to get a better view.” I swept my arm out, gesturing at the surrounding fields. “Sitting in that train car made me feel like a chicken in a crate on her way to the butcher’s shop. If anyone’s going to attack, I want to see them coming.”
“What kind of fighting can you do from up here?”
“If you’re so worried, why are you following me?” I wanted to gather the storm clouds closer but feared they would blot out the meager light streaming from the stars and leave us blind.
He crouched and skittered crab-like over the roof until he reached my side. “I don’t know. It seemed like the thing to do.”
“So under that tough exterior there’s a gentleman waiting to rescue the damsel in distress?”
He scoffed. “You’re no damsel.”
I hunkered closer to the roof, hoping to find some relief from the rushing air, and drew my coat collar higher around my ears. “Well, I’m glad we can agree.”
Brahm eased down beside me, and we studied the neighboring fields, searching for movement or hints of threat or attack. My nerves buzzed, my eyes watered, and my ears had gone numb from the constant roar of wind, but I refused to let down my guard, even if it meant suffering the next day with an aching back and a crick in my neck.
The train click-clacked its hypnotizing tempo.
The gentle sway rocked me like a baby’s cradle.
It would have been easy to let my senses drift, stretch out fully, relax, and bury my face in the warm crook of my elbow, but worry pinged like a dull alarm in the back of my mind.
Brahm cleared his throat. “Won’t your friends be wondering where you’ve gone off to?”
“Maybe. But I couldn’t have gotten far, could I? Unless I fell overboard.” An image of me slipping from the rooftop and shattering on the rails flashed before my mind. I cringed. “If you’re worried about it, you can always go back inside and tell them where I am.” His persistence in accompanying me raised more than a few warning flags. What if I just electrocute him now and ask questions later?
“Excuse me if my white knight armor was showing again. I’ll try to do a better job of keeping it concealed.”
I snorted. “If you’re my white knight, then I’m—”
A flash of far-off light, a distant yellow flicker, caught my attention. I watched for what could have been either a flame or a lantern’s glow and waited for it to reappear. Or it could have been my imagination. Either way, I needed to know for sure.
Like a distant, glimmering star, the light flashed again, this time in a series of flickers that seemed to have a deliberate nature. Like a signal.
Beside me, Brahm drew in a harsh breath.
If he’d seen it too, then it wasn’t simply my imagination. I called the storms closer, trading visibility for better access to my weapons. “I’ll wager your thoughts are the same as mine.”
“Bandits,” he grumbled. His boots scraped the roof as he rose into a crouch. I pounded on the steel beneath my feet, hoping Malita and Niffin would take it as a signal to prepare themselves for... well, I didn’t know what exactly. An attack of some kind, I supposed.
Inching forward, I approached the space between our car and the next. Not allowing myself a moment to second-guess, I leapt, crossing the crevasse, and landed on the next carriage’s roof. My equilibrium wavered. I rocked on bent knees, arms thrown wide until I regained my balance. Then I scurried to the space between the next two cars. Brahm said nothing to dissuade me, having possibly decided nothing would. His pounding feet echoed mine as we leapt from car to car, advancing closer to the engine as it raced forward.
“Maybe it’s nothing,” I said, unconvinced, as Brahm and I perched at the head of the first train car, keeping low to avoid the smoke steadily puffing from the engine’s smoke stack. “Maybe we’re overreacting.”
