Malita quirked an eyebrow, giving Brigette a wry look. “I came to protect you and help you, not to be your...” Her face screwed into a thoughtful expression as she tried to find the word she wanted.
“Pack mule?” Brigette blushed. “You’re right. Sometimes my brain gets ahead of my mouth. We’ll go to the train station, double back to the store, and then hurry back to the boys before they miss us. I don’t want them storming into town to look for us if they think we’re taking too long.”
Malita giggled as she slipped on Evie’s cloak and whispered the Magic word. “I think Evie likes Gideon so much because he reminds her of thunder when he is angry or scared.”
Brigette gasped when Malita disappeared. “It’s not the first time I’ve seen someone use invisibility Magic, but it never stops amazing me.”
An intangible finger poked Brigette’s shoulder, and Malita’s disembodied voice said, “Do not forget yourself.”
Brigette scrubbed her hands all over herself, as if wiping off a stubborn coating of mud, and muttered ancient words under her breath. She’d never been entirely sure if the words triggered the Magic, or if they were mostly a tool to help her express her will—her professors at university could never quite agree on an answer. Either way, the Magic worked. Darkness cloaked her, and she appeared as nothing more than a thin shadow.
“How do you feel?” Malita asked, patting Brigette’s shoulder.
“I’ll be okay, but we should hurry.” She grabbed Malita’s hand, and the two girls traipsed across the square, heading for the train station at the opposite side.
Except for a man pushing a broom across the concourse between ticket booths, the station was empty. Hand in hand, Brigette and Malita softened their steps. A brass placard with the words Ufficio del Capostazione, Office of the Stationmaster, hung on a heavy oak door at the end of the corridor. Seems like a good place to start looking, Brigette thought.
She’d studied the railroad maps plastered to the ticket booth walls, but their scope and view were too limited for her needs. Faercourt could have taken Evie anywhere, although even he hadn’t likely been strong enough to transport her all the way from Isolas to Inselgrau, especially not while bleeding profusely from that nasty bullet wound in his shoulder. Yet if the charm she’d made for Evie had worked at all, Faercourt shouldn’t have been able to use his Magic to transport Evie anywhere, not even an inch. The fact that he’d taken her probably meant he had accomplices, and that complicated things.
Malita reached the office door first and tried the handle. “Locked.”
Brigette called on her Magic and touched her finger to the lock. A bolt of fire raced down her spine and faded. A bit of pain for a bit of Magic—but all those bits added up over time and eventually became unbearable. She hadn’t reached that point yet, but she was looking forward to lighting another djageesh cigarette when she got back to camp.
As they slipped into the dark office, Brigette brought forth a light, a small glowing red orb. She could produce these Magical lanterns in any color, but red came easiest and was therefore the least painful. The girls searched the office, rifling through stacks of papers on the stationmaster’s desk and through the bound tomes on the bookshelf. Malita sucked her teeth sharply and held up a large, flat, leather-bound volume. “Will this do?”
Brigette took the book, unhooked the clasp on the cover, spread it open on the desk, and peeled back page after page of detailed maps of the Continent, from Vinitzia to Dreutch and points farther north, east, and west, including the Antellic Ocean. She felt for Malita’s hand, found it, and gave it a squeeze. “It’s brilliant.”
Brigette doused her light, closed the atlas, and extended her invisibility Magic to conceal the book of maps. After leaving a few coins on the desk in payment for the stolen atlas, she tugged Malita’s hand. Together they retreated from the station master’s office. The custodian had extinguished the lights and disappeared from the concourse, but he’d braced a heavy trash bin against the main door to prop it open. The girls hurried toward the exit but stopped short when several tall shadows flickered in the open doorway. Raised voices and sharp footsteps warned that someone, or several someones, were approaching.
“Are you certain? Look at the drawing again.” The speaker, a man, sounded aristocratic, his Vinitzian pronunciation precise and careful, as if he were not a native speaker.
“No,” answered another, wavering voice. “I’d remember seeing them. I’m sure.”
Brigette shuffled closer, eager for a glimpse of whoever stood beyond the doorway. Two tall figures, one man and one woman, both with severe posture and stern expressions, were questioning the night custodian. The man wore a conservative but elegant black coat and pants. The woman also wore black—wide cotton skirts and a linen jacket nipped at the waist. A sapphire brooch sparkled on her lapel. Magic and power exuded from them both.
Cold prickles broke out on Brigette’s neck and shoulders, tracing icy rivulets of fear down her spine. The pair was from the Council of Magic. She was sure of it.
“We’ll be searching the entire town,” the woman said. “If you see anything or hear anything, let us know.” She pressed something into the custodian’s hand before turning away.
“Wait.” He gripped his broom handle until his knuckles stood out white against his skin. “May I look one more time? I’ll try to memorize their faces.”
The black-suited man leaned forward and unrolled a bit of parchment. Brigette couldn’t see what was on it, but she could guess. A wanted poster. She suspected the paper contained sketches of Evie and Gideon’s faces. Perhaps her own, as well.
Satisfied, the custodian nodded. The Magician rolled up the parchment and stuffed it in his pocket, and he and his companion strode away. But the woman paused and turned back, her gaze scanning the station, pausing at the doorway where Brigette stood. Her eyes narrowed, as if trying to peer into the gloom on the other side.
Brigette held her breath, fearing the Magician had somehow sensed Brigette’s Magic the same way Brigette had sensed hers. The woman took a tentative step toward the doorway.
“Meet me at the store,” Malita whispered in Brigette’s ear.
Before Brigette could ask her what she was going to do, Malita’s quiet footsteps announced her retreat.
The Councilwoman approached like a cat hunting a mouse, her movements careful and alert. The other Magician had noted the change in his companion’s mood. He crept behind her, his attention focused on the station’s interior. Brigette edged a step back, preparing to run, but then a scream cut through the tension. A huge splash from the fountain in the square caught the Magical couple’s attention, and they turned away.
While they were distracted, Brigette scurried out, carefully squeezing past the two Council members. As she raced through the square, she saw a young boy—one of the lantern lighters on stilts—flailing in the fountain, trying to get back on his feet. Did Malita...? Brigette slapped her hand over her mouth before her laughter gave her away. Did Malita push that poor boy into the fountain?
Pausing in the dry goods store’s doorway, Brigette caught her breath. “Malita?” she whispered. “Where are you?”
“I am here.” Malita shifted closer and brushed Brigettte’s shoulder.
“How did you get out of the station?”
“There was an open window. I saw it when we came in.”
Brigette fumbled for Malita and squeezed her in a tight hug. “Thank the gods. I was sure those Magicians were about to find me.”
Malita patted Brigette’s back. “We should not stay here much longer.”
After breaking into the dry goods store, the girls raided the shelves, taking as much food as they could carry and leaving money on the counter on their way out. They stopped briefly at the fountain to fill their new waterskins. Although Brigette’s feet felt as heavy as lead and her head was pounding again, she managed to keep up with Malita as they raced out of town and ducked into the cover of the vineyard.
Brigette formed another red light to announce their presence and light their small encampment. Niffin appeared from the gloom and threw his arms around Malita as she tossed off the Thunder Cloak. Brigette didn’t understand his words, but she heard the relief in his tone.
Gideon’s big shadow sidled up to Brigette and took her load of supplies. “Any trouble?” he asked, peering at the tins of sardines and olives she’d collected.
“The Council was there, looking for us.” She crouched and set out the enamel bowl she’d been carrying under her arm. She filled it with water from one of her skins until its surface bulged like a convex mirror. “They had a wanted poster they were showing around town. It seemed like there were only two of them. Nobody saw us, but we should still be careful.”
Gideon grunted deep in his throat, a sound of agreement. He cracked open a tin of sardines with his knife, not offering to share with Brigette. He wasn’t threatening to throttle her, but he wasn’t dishing out forgiveness or friendship, either. Brigette thought about it and decided she could live with that arrangement.
While the group settled down to eat dinner, she lit candles, placing them around her water bowl. She opened the atlas to a page showing the Vinitzian borders and the surrounding countries, seas, and oceans. From her pocket she removed a coin, a perfect match to the coins she’d given Evie and Gideon earlier, and set it on the map. She leaned over the water bowl, staring at her reflection, and let her gaze go unfocused.
