At first I think there might be a way for them to get to us while the train is still moving, but now I don’t think so. We are seemingly safe for the moment. I know it won’t last.
We haven’t spoken since the train started moving. I don’t think any of us has the words, or knows what to say. Even Elsey seems to be lost in her thoughts, perhaps mulling over the flash of violence she witnessed by me at the train doors. Tawni is standing in the corner, leaning against the wall, staring out the window as the rocky tunnel flashes by. Cole is seated, his head down, one foot tapping rapidly on the floor.
According to Cole, who seems to have a pretty good handle on these sorts of matters, the train ride will only take two hours, being an express. Although I know we are traveling at hundreds of miles per hour, the ride is so smooth it barely feels like we’re moving.
An hour goes by in silence. Typically I’d be comfortable with the quiet, as I grew used to it during the endless hours I spent alone in the Pen, but for some reason I can’t stand it now. With every second that goes by, the screaming in my head gets worse, until I can’t take it anymore.
“Urrrrr!” I grunt, making a weird growling, gurgling noise from the back of my throat.
Everyone looks at me. Elsey grins nervously. Tawni raises an eyebrow. Cole laughs, of course. “Are we there yet?” he asks, purposely sounding as whiny as possible.
I take a deep breath. I need to calm down, try to get a grip on the anxiety I’m feeling. I feel like I’m about to have a heart attack.
“I hope so,” I say, trying to sound tough. I’m secretly dreading our arrival, afraid of not being able to protect my friends, my sister. Afraid of what Rivet will do. Afraid of what Rivet will tell me about Tristan when I ask him. At the same time, the waiting might be worse. It is like pulling out a splinter of rock from your foot. Although the pain is minor with it in your skin, over time it becomes more and more uncomfortable, until it’s unbearable, leaving you making weird grunting-gurgling noises like some sick animal. Left untreated, the splinter pushes deeper into the skin, becoming a part of you. The only treatment is to pull it out, swiftly and painfully. When the doors open at the end of the line, we’ll have no choice but to remove our own rock splinter.
“What are they going to do to us?” Elsey says, sounding like a normal kid, instead of my older-than-her-years sister.
I want to reassure her, but I also don’t want to lie to her. I hesitate for a moment, trying to formulate the right words, but Cole answers for me. “Nothing,” he says. “They’re not gonna touch any of you. I’ll make sure of that.”
Coming from Cole, it isn’t just talk. As he cracks his knuckles, I can see a level of determination in his face that exceeds even his normal level of strength. As much as it comforts me, it also scares me, not because of what he might do to Rivet and his gang, but because of what they might do to him. Although I don’t voice it, I vow at that moment to do whatever it takes to protect my friends, even if it costs me my life. There are some things more important than your own life. Like friendship, and love, and trust, and goodness.
We speak very little during the final hour, but for some reason it doesn’t bother me anymore. I’ve made my vow, as has Cole, so there is nothing else to talk about. We have no strategy, except to run from Rivet until we are forced to stand and fight. Then we will fight.
I feel the train slowing and my heart skips a beat.
* * *
Tristan
The train slows and I stand. Roc follows suit, looking rather sick. He tries to pull his sword from his sheath, but it gets stuck three times before he can get it out. I know now is the time for a big speech, something to energize him for the battle ahead. My mouth feels sticky and dry, so I take a sip of water. I don’t know what I plan to say, so I just start speaking, hoping my heart will do the rest.
“Roc,” I say, “you’re my brother. Always will be.”
Short, concise, simple; but I mean every word, more than anything I’ve ever said before. And it seems to do the job. Roc’s hand stops trembling and tightens on his sword, his eyes change to a steely brown, his jaw firms up.
“I’m with you, Tristan. I’d die for you.”
Tears fill my eyes but I blink them away. Now is not the time for tears. “And I you,” I say.
The train rolls to a stop. A heavy mist roils outside the window. Subchapter 26 is dark, but not completely. Something is lighting the sky. We are standing flush against the doors, trying to be the first off—every second will be important in the deadly game we are playing. The doors open and we step out into the mist.
Not mist—smoke. The air is filled with the suffocating stench of war. The platform trembles as a bomb explodes in the distance. The bombing has reached the northernmost subchapter.
I can’t see through the thick smoke, but I run along the train anyway, hoping that Adele is still alive when I reach the end.
When I see Rivet his back is to me. His men are so focused on what he is telling them that they don’t see me. I fade backwards into the fog. I bump into Roc.
“What is it?” he whispers.
“They seem confused as to what to do. Rivet’s giving them orders, but they’re not just rushing the end car like they probably wanted to. The war’s distracted them, I think.”
“Can we get around them?” Roc coughs. His eyes are already red from the smoke. We need to get away from the noxious fumes. They aren’t thick enough to kill us right away, but prolonged exposure surely won’t be good.
“I don’t know, but we have to try.”
We drift right, moving further into the smoke, trying to carve a wide arc around Rivet. Already the smoke is clearing, however, and it won’t be long before we’re able to see them and them us. The bombing hasn’t stopped—we can still hear the rumble of explosions in the distance and intermittent flashes of light—but it is moving away; hence, the clearing smoke.
Ahead and to the left of us I see dark figures huddled together. Not Rivet and his men. We are past them. Adele and her friends—has to be.
We move toward them.
* * *
Adele
“Something’s not right,” Cole says, gazing out the window as the train pulls into the station.
“There’s so much smoke,” Tawni says.
I try to speak but my voice catches. There is a lump in my throat. The star dwellers are bombing subchapter 26. My father is out there somewhere, unprotected, maybe already a victim.
Older-than-her-age Elsey grabs my hand, squeezes, and says, “He’ll be okay.”
Although I know she doesn’t have any proof for her statement, it is comforting. The doors open.
I expected us to race from the train the second the doors opened, but the situation has changed. We can hear booming explosions in the distance. We can barely see anything outside; it is so smoky.
Cole says, “Elsey should hide in the train. They’ll think we’ve all left.”
I like the idea of hiding Elsey away somewhere, but not leaving her all alone. She isn’t too happy with the idea either. “No! I’m coming with you,” she says.
Cole looks at me, hoping I’ll back him up. “We can’t just leave her here,” I say. My mind is racing. Rivet might already be running down the train line, headed for us, and we are still in the car, like sitting ducks. We have to move.
“Move!” I say, pacing to the door and pulling Elsey, who is still holding my hand, with me.
I step out, turn to face the other end of the train. The smoke—thick and puffy when we arrived—is dissipating already. Likely a bomb exploded near the train station just before we arrived. Although it is getting easier to see, I don’t see our hunters. I can only see maybe two cars down, and Rivet’s gang is at least three away. Maybe even four or five—it is hard to tell.
Cole and Tawni step out next to us. “Where the hell are they?” Cole says, thinking out loud.
I feel someone approaching from the left, out of the mist. I quarter-turn to see two dar
k shapes moving toward us. Rivet—has to be.
“Run!” I yell.
We take off away from the platform. We stay as a group, although Cole and Tawni could outdistance Elsey and me anytime they want to. I hear thumping footsteps on the stone behind us, someone chasing us. I don’t look back, don’t want to see Rivet’s bloodthirsty eyes.
As we move away from the platform, the smoke disappears completely. It is weird, how it is clustered around the train. The bomb must’ve hit really close to it.
Ahead of us I can see the twinkling lights of subchapter 26. It seems everyone has their lights on, probably because of the bombing, although being able to see won’t protect them from death by explosion.
I hear the footsteps getting closer, hear a shout, but can’t make out what the voice says. It doesn’t sound like Rivet’s snarl, but it might be one of his men. It is weird. I felt scared when I first started running, but it changed at some point. It’s like a magic trick, where a magician turns a rock into a bat or something; except it’s my fear turning into anger, to the point where I feel capable of great violence. Even when I fought in the Pen, I never felt capable of anything. I just did what I had to do and hoped for the best. But now I feel strong, like I can fight Rivet, even though he’s a highly trained soldier.
Enough is enough.
I whirl around, ready to face the Devil.
They are right on top of us, having closed most of the distance. I just react, swinging a high kick in self-defense. I catch my pursuer under the chin, knock him off his feet. He rolls onto his stomach. His companion stops dead in his tracks and just stares at me.
He doesn’t look like a trained killer. He is holding a sword, but it doesn’t look natural; it looks more like he’s holding a bread knife. Brown-skinned with brown eyes, he appears more shocked than anything.
“Who are you?” I say, wondering if I am making a big mistake.
The guy opens his mouth but no words come out. The other guy, the one I leveled, groans and rolls over, showing his face.
I gasp.
It is Tristan.
At this point it would probably make sense to run to him, throw myself upon him, and shower him with kisses while apologizing profusely for having practically knocked his head off. Like I said earlier: I don’t always do the right thing in social situations.
“Why are you chasing us?” I demand. Up close, he is so beautiful, even more beautiful than he looked when I saw him from the Pen, or from the outskirts of the Lonely Caverns.
“Trying…to…help,” Tristan murmurs, massaging his jaw with one hand.
“Oh,” I say. I guess I should’ve guessed that.
“What happened?” Cole says, appearing with Elsey and Tawni next to me. They must’ve stopped when they realized I wasn’t with them.
“It’s him,” Elsey whispers. “Tristan.”
“I know,” I say.
“Why’d you hit him? I thought you liked him,” Cole says.
“I didn’t hit him, I kicked him,”—I elbow Cole hard in the stomach—“and shut up about the other thing.” I am mortified. How could Cole say something so stupid? Tristan is going to think I’m just another school girl with a crush on the President’s son. Although that isn’t entirely inaccurate.
“You should probably help him up,” Tawni suggests.
“You help him up,” I retort. My social skills are falling apart at the seams. I’m just shocked, is all. I didn’t expect to see him. Truth be told, I thought he was dead. Thankfully, his friend helps him up.
Tristan approaches me. His midnight blue eyes are mesmerizing. They never leave mine. And yet it isn’t awkward, or embarrassing. I feel a flash of heat in my chest as my heart begins drumming out a rhythmic palpitation, perhaps the beat to some long-forgotten song. What is he doing? Why is he here? It makes no sense. I am nobody, and he is the prince of the Tri-Realms.
He extends his hand and takes mine, which still hangs loosely at my side. “I’m Tristan,” he says.
He is so close to me I can feel his breath on my lips. Another dream—has to be.
Before I have a chance to respond, Cole yells, “Get down!” and tackles us both to the hard ground.
* * *
Tristan
I can’t believe she kicked me! And with a wicked roundhouse no less, powerful and precise. Although I am trembling inside, nervous, I try to hide it as I reach out to shake her hand. When she doesn’t raise her arm, I reach down and take her hand, lifting it for her. As my fingertips contact her skin, I feel a flutter of excitement in my chest. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
When the big dark guy yells Get down! and smashes us both to the ground, I think it might just be some kind of a joke. Like maybe that’s how moon dweller teenagers have fun; a kick in the jaw to show affection, a hard tackle for a laugh. Of course, my thoughts make no sense considering we are in a warzone and being tracked by one of my father’s psycho thugs.
It is no joke.
Our bodies are so close together. She grabs my arm as we fall. On the ground, she clings to me, her hands warm on my skin. I’m in a trance, unable to tear my gaze from her sparkling, emerald eyes. I feel the same feelings I had when I first saw her—only they are a whole hell of a lot stronger now.
I hear a yell and Adele looks away from me. I wince, feeling physical pain when our eyes unlock. She pushes away from me and I know I did something wrong, was too forward with her when I grabbed her hand. What can I say? I’m not thinking clearly.
Something flashes past my field of vision.
I follow her to a standing position and see why she left my embrace so suddenly. At least I hope it’s the reason. It’s too painful to think that she pulled away because she was put off by me—due to the odor that’s been imbued in my skin from hard days on the road, or because of the crazy eyes I was surely making at her.
Her big friend, the one who tackled us, is charging toward Rivet, who is further down the platform, fitting an arrow into his bow. An arrow—that’s what flew past my head. Adele lets out a yell and chases after her friend. “Take El somewhere safe!” she calls over her shoulder to her white-haired friend.
This can’t be happening. I can’t let it happen. Regardless of whether she was turned off by me and will never speak to me again, I have to save her. Rivet will rip them both to shreds. I don’t doubt their fighting ability, but am just being realistic. Rivet is a pro and a sadist. A deadly combination.
I start after her.
* * *
Adele
Why did he touch my hand? His hands are so tender, so electric. As I lie on the hard ground gazing into his deep blue eyes, I wonder what is happening. I can only think of two possibilities. Either he’s mistaken me for someone, or he’s completely lost his mind. I hope it isn’t the latter, because I already have enough craziness in my own life that I don’t think I can bring any more crazy into it. If it’s the former, and he thinks I’m someone else, maybe he’ll never even notice that I’m not that person. I’d be perfectly happy with him calling me by some other name. And yet…that can’t be it. He called me Adele already. He knows my name, probably who I am. And yet he touched me.
Although I don’t want to look away from him, or leave his embrace, I see something moving behind him and I know it is important. Glancing past him, I see Rivet let loose an arrow. Cole lets out a roar as it pierces his shoulder, the sharp tip exiting through his back. Blood spatters from the wound. His entire body torques hard to the left, forcing his head around toward me.
Those eyes. Dark, serious, strong. I know what he’s going to do.
Despite the excruciating pain he must be in, Cole turns and charges Rivet. This is it. All his pent-up emotions: first and foremost, sadness; then anger; misery, loneliness, and desperation follow; all sprinkled with a lust for revenge, hidden well by sarcasm and joviality in stressful situations.
It is suicide—I have to stop him.
I push away from Tristan and race after Cole. Rivet’
s next arrow zips past us, narrowly missing Cole’s legs, my stomach, and Tristan’s sprawled-out form.
I brush past Tristan’s friend, whose mouth is opening and closing like a fish out of water. He looks shocked by the whole situation, unable to cope with what is happening. I am probably in shock, too, but I don’t have time to think about it.
So I won’t slip, I avoid stepping directly on the trail of blood that Cole leaves in his wake. Cole is faster than me, reaching Rivet twenty feet ahead. Lifting his bow, Rivet tries to get off another shot, but Cole plows into him, sending the arrow twanging end over end into the air. The bow flies out of Rivet’s hands and clatters harmlessly to the stone.
On top of Rivet, Cole is in a rage, pummeling him with iron fists. Five other men charge out of the thinning smoke, aiming to help their leader. I am ten feet away when I hear Rivet yell, “Get the girl!” in between taking punches from Cole.
His men stop just short of him, hesitate, and then follow his order, rushing past him and toward me. I am running so hard it is difficult to stop, but I manage to plant one of my feet, only skidding slightly on the stone before stopping.
They are already right on top of me. The first one has a sword in his belt, but leaves it hanging, probably in the mood for some hand-to-hand fun against a helpless girl.
Not so helpless.
I duck under his haymaker punch, kneeing him in the groin and then cracking him in the back of the head with my elbow as he flies past. He crumples to the ground. Seeing what I did to the first guy, the other four decide against the idea of fighting fair, and whip out their swords. They are too close for me to run. I have to try to dodge their swords and somehow manage to win. I have to do it for Elsey, for my father in Camp Blood and Stone. For my mother wherever she is. For myself, too.
One of the guys swipes at my arm and I move away from it hard. He wasn’t really going for me, though. It was a fake, a feint, a trick maneuver to get me moving in the direction he really wants. A highly trained swordfighter’s move. Mid-swing, he reverses his blade and sends it slicing in the opposite direction, right into where I am moving. There is no way he can miss.