Chapter 19 – Team effort

By sunset the train was ready to leave. Clocky was satisfied that he’d made Sean wait long enough, the agitation from him evident with the continual messages via his bodyguards enquiring on when they would be leaving. The reply of course was always ‘When we’re ready’, the guards just nodding and walking back. At least it gave them something to do. The guard that Clocky finally gave the affirmative to practically ran back to the rear carriage to let Sean know.

Crys’ clothes had also dried out enough by that stage, as Fairweather had predicted, and she was happy to be wearing them again. Fairweather’s clothes had been nice enough, but they weren’t her own clothes, and while the top would have been nice to wear once it cooled down, it didn’t really work with the harness for her weapons. She dreaded to think what she’d do once they were ruined, as they would eventually become, but hopefully she’d be able to find something else suitable before then. She was also somewhat new to all of this, and she’d have plenty of time to experiment with different styles she was sure. For all she knew her fashion sense could be horrid by the standards of this age, but having said that, her happiness with what she wore was what was most important.

With a hiss of steam the train finally pulled away from Cannonsgate, Crys sitting in the lower bunk in the same room as she had the night before, watching out the window as the lights of the town passed by. It was nothing compared to the light show of a (past) modern city, but it still gave that familiar feeling of hey, humanity lives here. Still, she wasn’t sorry to see the back of the town, though the biggest problem with it of course was now riding on the train as well, albeit at the other end of it.

Her thoughts wandered to Rachael, and she wondered where she was. She already knew that she was alright (though why she knew she did not know). It was selfish she knew, but she hoped that Rachael was somewhere in the Outerlands as well, and that perhaps she’d be able to meet up with her before they reached Odinsphere. She guessed, well also hoped, that Rachael was heading there as well, but of course she had no real way of knowing, the hope based on the assumption that Rachael was indeed the other maiden. She was pretty certain of it, but Spectre had already said that it knew nothing about them.

Clocky had said that he was pretty certain that they wouldn’t face any issues till after they had left the Ethis Plains and had headed into Junction Pass, and they wouldn’t reach that until mid morning the following day. He still had team members on guard during the night as it was never a good idea to try and tempt fate, but had left it at just one person. Everyone else was instructed to try and get as much rest as possible, Crys included. With the only view out of the window now being the darkness of the plains, Crys lay down on the bunk, pulling one of the blankets over her.

She could sense it though, that something was amiss. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she was certain that it was related to Sean and whatever he had in his carriage, the sensation a new one to her. It clawed at the edge of her conscious, faint but ever present, neither making its presence fully know nor receding. There wasn’t anything that she could do about it however, at least not at the moment, so she tried her best to ignore it and get some rest.

The rhythmic sounds of the train and the sway of the carriage eventually lulled Crys to sleep as she lay curled up on the bed, Spectre lying in front of her. It was fragile at best, the wrongness still present and pricking at her mind, her sleep dreamless and intermittent, and she was more than happy when dawn’s rays finally broke into her room. She wasted no time in getting up.

She wasn’t the first up though. Both Clocky and Mason were already in the main room of the carriage, Mason probably because he’d had the last shift of the night watch, and he was sitting at one of the tables eating a bowl of something. Clocky was making sandwiches, again, and Crys was beginning to wonder if he actually made anything else at all. Mind you, while the carriage had decent facilities, there wasn’t a huge amount that could be made in it with the lack of electricity. That had been a massive game changer for ease of life, even if just for the basic things like lights, and she was actually missing them. It was possible, given what they had managed with the train, that there could be electricity in the towns, after all once learned, knowledge isn’t so easily forgotten and humans were industrial and resourceful creatures, but a train carriage would definitely not have it. Now if they’d had real magic on the other hand, that would have been a different story. It made her wonder what life was like in the Innerlands. In all likelihood nothing like what she was expecting. Neither was magic probably.

“Sleep alright?” Clocky asked as she sat down on the side bench, in about the same place as always. The sun was now starting to illuminate the plains, and it looked pretty much the same as it had two days ago. Just vast stretches of green and brown, with a river snaking its way through it.

“So, so,” she replied. “Whatever Sean is carrying is giving me the creeps.” Well, that wasn’t the complete truth as she didn’t know that for certain, but the words had come out before she’d had the chance to censor them.

“If it’s strong enough that you’re picking up on it, then there is certainly something wrong,” Clocky said with a thoughtful expression. “Fairweather said the same thing.”

“We should just decouple his carriage and leave it in the middle of the plains,” Alison said with a dead serious expression as she walked in, before laughing. “Not that we’d actually do that. We have a reputation to uphold after all, but he sure deserves it. He’s going to get us all into some trouble I expect.”

“At the least,” Clocky agreed. “But we’ll be prepared. We’ll hit the pass ready for battle, and fully fed.”

Breakfast was, as she had anticipated, sandwiches. They weren’t bad, and she felt satisfied afterwards, but it was hard to ignore a lifetime of having cereal and milk when you woke up. Everybody had gotten up by that point, all apart from Mason eating Clocky’s fare. Apparently that was normal for Mason. He had his own standards when it came to food, and Clocky’s picks just didn’t cut it for him. Clocky took the opportunity to revoice his concerns to his team, stating that he wanted everybody fully armoured and armed when they hit Junction Pass. He was still certain that the trouble would hit them in there. No longer if, but when.

The train track started to run along another of the rivers that ran through the plains, and shortly afterwards the train slowed to a halt beside another water tower stop that was very similar to the one that Crys had found two days ago, Clocky informing her that it was the last one before they passed through the Pass. Stepping off the train for a look, she could see the jagged mountain range rising out of the plains ahead of them, dark and foreboding. Clouds hung around the lower reaches of it, and even from here she could feel its chilled winds. The track headed straight for the middle of it, at a low point between the two closest mountains. She did wonder why the tracks hadn’t just been laid around the outside of the range, but there would be a reason for it, possibly because looking from here the range seem to be very expansive.

“It’s called the Eastern Teeth Range,” Fairweather said, coming up beside her. Crys could see why they’d named it that.

“Do they always look like that?” she queried.

“Sometimes. Most of our runs through it have had better weather, but I have seen worse. Another legacy of the Shattering. A series of valley’s runs straight through the middle of the range, but it has its own localized weather. I say valley, but they aren’t quite flat. There is a slope, but it’s quite tame compared to the mountains themselves, and nothing that an engine like this can’t handle. It’s almost like a canyon at times too.”

“I don’t know if I’m going to be of much help,” Crys said, worried that she might end up being dead weight for them.

“Heh. We’re not expecting anything for you. Just try and keep yourself safe. It’s more like we’ve dragged you into something instead.” Fairweather gave her a smile and a reassuring hug.

Crys sat back down on the side bench, trying to brush her hair into a semblance of order as the train lurched into motion again. Fairweather had done such a good job with it, but the shower and sleep had messed it up again. She was having some success though, the brush doing a good job, and it was helping steady her nerves. She looked out the window every so often, watching the plains flow by and the mountain range steadily getting closer.

The change in the atmosphere when they hit Junction Pass was instantly noticeable. The temperature plummeted as the train ploughed into the mist that enveloped the tracks, and everything took on an eerie quality. The slope was noticeable, everything feeling like it was on a slight lean, though the train seemed to handle it as well as it did the flat, maintaining a stead pace. The entire team seemed to be on edge, and Crys was no exception, the sense of wrongness intensifying. All of the team were armed now, Vorsce and Alison with their swords strapped to their backs or resting in their laps. Dudley and Fairweather both held a pair of crossbows each, daggers strapped to their waists. Clocky had a sword strapped to his back as well, his pistol in its holster at his side. She assumed that Mason was armed as well, though he had gone to the engine earlier. Crys put her brush away, no longer able to concentrate on it, closing her eyes instead and trying to keep herself calm, thinking of Pyre and all that she had been through.

they can sense what you have and desire it

but that’s not why they’re here

A loud whistle brought Crys’ focus back to the present, the train lurching as it rapidly slowed down. They seemed to be out of the mists for the moment, the rocky floor of the valley clearly visible. It appeared to be quite wide in the area in which they were, stretching for a good fifty meters on either side before the incline took a sharp rise in jagged segments, rocky outcroppings, trees, depressions and the occasional cave all visible on the valley’s slopes. Shrubs and succulents dotted the valley floor, too small to give anything any cover though. The track curved here, and a freshly felled tree, roots and all, lay on it ahead of them, and around it were roaming half a dozen creatures. They had a passing resemblance to wolves, though their bodies were much more gaunt and taller, their outer hair long and flowing, almost touching the ground. Their snouts were longer, razor sharp teeth clearly visible, and their eyes were a haunting red colour. While they had been meandering around the tree that lay across the track, now they had stopped and were staring straight at the train, teeth bared.

“Wildlings. Long Hairs,” Clocky stated as he and the others dismounted from the train. “A young pack probably. The tree on the other hand...”

“Stay here and watch for the moment,” Fairweather said to Crys as she passed. Crys just nodded, not really in a position to make a fuss even if she had wanted to. She wasn’t complaining, as she and wolf things didn’t have a good understanding at the moment. However, she wasn’t going to take unnecessary chances either, drawing her shield and sword and arming herself. The weapons still didn’t feel quite right, but there was some security in having them at the ready. Crys then stood by the windows, watching as the final team members dismounted from the carriage. She was curious after all as to how they all actually fought. Media and role-playing were one thing, but real life was a different story altogether.

The Long Hairs just stood their ground, and while it looked like they were growling, Crys couldn’t hear it above the ambient noises of the train and the wall of the carriage. Clocky stood there, gauging their reaction, before he started walking forward slowly, Fairweather and Dudley following just behind, while Alison and Vorsce were just behind them again. All of them had their weapons drawn and ready. The team had walked about a dozen meters before the Long Hairs finally decided that they had gone far enough, the back most one howling, the front pair lunging towards the team.

Crossbow bolts thudded into the charging Wildlings as the team stood their ground, Clocky firing his pistol, flashes of bright light accompanying each shot, the bullets tearing into both of the front Wildlings as well as some of the others behind them. Six shots, Clocky then putting the pistol away. Another round of bolts slammed into the front pair, the beasts staggering in their charges and then slumping to the ground. The remaining Long Hairs hadn’t hesitated, all but one also charging forward, Dudley and Fairweather stepped back, swapping positions with Alison and Vorsce.

Clocky waited till the last moment, side stepping the one that had charged at him, his longsword coming round, cutting deep into it. It tumbled past on the ground in a mass of blood and hair, coming to a stop near the train, unmoving. Alison blocked hers with her bastard sword, her counter-strike throwing it back towards the tree which it tumbled over, while Vorsce stepped to the side, allowing the Long Hair to correct its charge before he then spun around its attack as it reached him, his first sword deflecting its attack while the second cut deep into its side. He didn’t give it any chance to recover, following up with another two strikes, blood spilling out of the wounds as it attempted to get out of range.

And then just like that it was over, the three remaining Long Hairs, two heavily wounded, attempting to retreat. The one at the back gave them an odd look before howling and bounding off towards the slope, the other two making a move to follow. They however didn’t make it far, another three shots from Clocky’s pistol taking the wounded two out. The team stood, waiting to see if any more would appear, but the battlefield remained silent and still. Crys sheathed her armaments, and made her way out of the carriage. Even if she couldn’t fight, there may still be something for her to do now.

Alison was moving the bodies of the dead Wildlings away from the tracks as Crys stepped down onto the rocky floor of the valley.

“Come, you can give us a hand,” Clocky waved to Crys as he walked towards the tree, Vorsce and Mason joining him. Crys nodded, running to catch up with the trio.

The tree wasn’t overly large, probably only about six meters tall, but it still had all of it foliage, leaves and branches forming a messy mass on one side of the track. The trunk however was thick, and she wouldn’t have had any hope of being able to get her arms fully around it. Roots and all were also still attached, the dirt moist and some of the broken roots bleeding sap. Quickly looking around, Crys couldn’t find any indication of where the tree might have come from. Given it’s size, she would have thought somewhere close, but no location was obvious.

“That explains one thing,” Clocky muttered as he went around the tree, all of the others following suit to look. Crushed under the tree on the tracks was the body of another Long Hair, though it looked a lot younger than the ones that they had been fighting.

“Something is very strange about all of this,” Vorsce muttered, Clocky nodding in response. Crys had to agree as well. There was definitely something amiss about all of this. It was like someone had set up an ambush, but had only half executed it. Surely they would have known what Clocky’s team is capable of, and as a distraction is was too short lived. Trees also don’t just thrown themselves onto the train tracks and a stray beast.

If it had been much bigger it would have also given them much more significant issues, but even as it was Crys was all sweaty again by the time they had managed to get the tree of the tracks, a bit of experimentation and discussion before they took to it and manoeuvred it off. The tree definitely looked manhandled and worse for the wear once they had it far enough away from the tracks, compared to its almost pristine state as it had lay there in the tracks. It just reinforced the weirdness of it being there in the first place. Crys was certain that in movies they just used a sizeable plank of wood or a segment of a tree and not the whole thing.

With the boiler still fired up, as soon as they had all returned to the carriage, the train started moving again. Dudley had checked on Sean and his bodyguards, and apart from being nervous wrecks there was nothing amiss there, and Mason had returned to the engine. Alison and Clocky did a full scout of the length of the train, double checking to make sure that nothing had crept aboard while they had stopped, but nothing was there. It didn’t take long for the walls of the pass to close in again once they had cleared the bend, the mists also returning, covering everything in a damp and eerie blanket.

“Are creatures like that common?” Crys asked of Clocky as he pulled out his pistol as well as a greasy rag and some assorted tools.

“More so now than there used to be, but not that common around populated areas. The pulse that created the touched also seems to have had an effect on the Wildlings as well. Their population grows, and new varieties keep appearing. On the surface the increase seems small over the last decade, but given how much of the land we don’t occupy, the true effect is completely unknown. I’d wager that there are a lot more than we are aware of. Most also don’t have official names either, hence why some of the terms we use are rather uncreative.”

Clocky talked as he started to pull apart his pistol, removing the magazine and firing chamber, putting them aside, as well as pulling out some additional bullets from a pocket and putting them beside the magazine. The bullets looked odd, to what Crys would have expected. They had the basic shape that she remembered, but were covered in glowing blue lines as well as numerous depressions. Separating the barrel, Clocky then took the rag and a metal stick, and then proceeded to give it a clean.

“Are guns something special now?” Crys finally asked as Clocky neared completion of his task. “You seem to be the only one with one, yet it’s more efficient than a crossbow.”

“They were common in your time?” Clocky asked back.

“Yup. Standard weapon of choice of the military, police, and for hunting and so on. Swords and crossbows were just for play and hobbies, and the realm of stories. Things of the past.”

Clocky grimaced at the imagery. “They would have been rather deadly. Mind you, I’ve seen worse than one of these. The defence bot on Odinsphere had some form of rotating cannon, in perfect condition too.”

“A Vulcan?”

“No idea of the name, but it could have been. They’re relics of your age after all. But yes, guns are something special now. Very few people have them and even less can use them. It’s mystified quite a lot of people too, right from the time of the Shattering, as there is no good reason for them not to work, but they just don’t. Current theory is that the birth of magic somehow changed the property of gunpowder, but it wouldn’t be the only reason. Special bullets have to be made for them, often under licence by a Channeller, and even then they require an absurd amount of maintenance, jam up or malfunction frequency, and degrade quickly. It’s almost as if the world itself doesn’t want their use. Manufacturing of them has all but stopped, even though the basic models are within humanity’s capabilities. They are still often the weapon of choice of Channellers and the wealthy however, because they are still a deadly weapon. By the sounds of it they don’t exist in the Innerlands, at least not in this type of form.”

Clocky went through the motions of putting it all back together again, sans the bullets.

“This one is a combination of older models that my mother put together, though she doesn’t use them herself. Bullets have come from a variety of sources, including her, and their quality varies as much. The bullets I used against the Long Hairs were some low grade ones that probably came off the black market. They do the job, but they gunk up the gun too. Hence why I use a combination of weapons. A short burst with the gun, and then the sword against beasts. Sword only for people though, a personal choice there.”

Clocky then looked at Crys curiously.

“Is sword and shield your weapons of choice, or just circumstance?”

“A bit of both?” Crys replied thoughtfully. “I’ve always been partial to swords, but I can’t use one to save myself. I can’t really use any weapon mind you, coming from a mostly peaceful time. I’m keen to learn though. I kinda like scythes as well, they’re both deadly and elegant is a strange way. Not sure if I’d even be able to use one at all, not to mention they’d be a pain to lug around.”

“That they would,” Clocky replied with a laugh. “Velvet had one, but hers was formed of magic, so she didn’t have that issue.”

“That’s certainly useful.”

“Indeed. Not a luxury we have out here. We’ll do what we can to get you some training. You’re going to need it I expect.”

“I appreciate that,” Crys said with a smile.

mogust

Things are afoot... Can't say much more than that at the moment though without spoiling what's to come.

Next chapter (20 - Nightbeast) should be out later this week, and all things going well so should the new cover as well :)

In terms of progress, I have almost finished writing chapter 30 (Pursuit), only a couple of paragraphs to go, and chapter 31 is already roughly planned out. The last couple of chapters have been difficult to write, but they are done and have laid the path for the next few, which should make them flow a lot easier.

As always thanks for reading. Comments welcome :)