“Do you really believe that?” said a voice that didn’t belong to Brahm. I squealed, clutching at my jittering heart as Niffin skulked up beside me, as quiet as a cat.
“Tell me what you saw.”
“Looked like lanterns. Maybe a signal. That’s all, and I haven’t seen them since we worked our way up here.”
Niffin had removed his spectacles. He peered intently into the gloom as if willing the bandits to appear and announce their intentions. “It would help if there were not so many clouds making everything so dark. A little lightning might even be welcome. A big storm could discourage the bandits before they even—”
Kaboom!
A ball of brilliant orange flame boiled over the tracks. The fireball bloomed into a tentacled beast that lashed at the rails and clawed the wooden ties. A chorus of shouts arose from the darkness.
The train rocked as the conductor responded, yanking on the brakes. Iron wheels squealed, sparks raining out a torrent of protest. Brahm, Niffin, and I braced ourselves, our bodies tense, balance low, moods anxious. Tension radiated from my companions like light from a blazing lantern.
“This isn’t just some simple robbery.” The train slowed, but my heart raced faster and faster, as if making up for our lost momentum. “Are they planning to steal the entire train right off its tracks?”
“I don’t know,” Brahm said, “but we’d better be prepared for the worst.”
Chapter 6
A group of men and women jumped to the ground from a car near the engine, several stumbling over the uneven terrain. Their lanterns shone on the track as they jogged beside the engine, easily keeping pace as the train continued to slow.
“Guards?” I pointed at the group, who all wore dark uniforms trimmed in gold buttons and braiding. At the front of the cluster, a rifle barrel glinted, reflecting lantern light. Dread shimmied down my spine.
“Looks like it,” Brahm said. “I’ve never seen anything this organized before—they look like professionals. Perhaps the train’s owners have decided to take the bandit threat more seriously.”
“This isn’t going to go well,” I said. “Not if they’re bringing guns to the fight.”
“Liesl,” Niffin whispered, “you can stop this.”
I glanced at Brahm’s shadow. Who was he? Could I risk revealing myself?
If I did nothing, there would be bloodshed, and I wanted no innocent deaths on my conscience, not in exchange for keeping my identity secret. I sucked in a deep breath, closed my eyes, and unleashed the storms.
A mighty whip of lightning lashed the sky.
Thunder, louder than the bandits’ explosion, rocked the air, and its concussion battered the earth, the train, my companions, and me.
The guards paused and gaped at the sky, but I was focused on the tracks where a throng of bodies, indistinct in the gloom, rushed toward the train. With a flick of my finger, I threw a bolt into their path, and the explosion was the vicious roar of a pack of angry beasts.
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?”
