A few days prior, on the train bound for Hearthome.

Finder stared at the inscrutable, lavender-haired cloudhead across the table from him, desperately trying not to let his anxiety leak through. He’d been cornered quickly, in the public dining car, and could feel all the room’s eyes on him as he tried to keep up the facade. Breath training could only do so much, especially when the outside view plunged away into a ravine. 

Damn heights.

“I told ya,” he repeated as steady as he could, each word punctuated by the rattle of the train on the trestle, “I’ve got no idea what you’re on about.” How did she know the code phrase? Nita said Enic wouldn’t squeal.

“But I think you do!” the girl across from him replied with saccharine cheer, tracing one perfect finger down a groove in the table. “I’ll buy ya a drink if you tell me!”

“Listen, I’ll take a free drink, lady, but I should really get back to work.” Finder forced a shrug. Just gotta buy enough time until Keeper’s done her work.

“Could you tell me a little more about your job? I’ve never been on a train before and it’s fascinating.”

Finder risked a side-eye. People are looking—shit. He ran down his mental checklist. Knife in his shoe, another in his cuff. Sleeping poison in a breast pocket—none of it mattered if he’d really gotten caught. The how could’ve been a bunch of different reasons, tiny little slipups only the cloudheads would notice. Someone leaked something, someone didn’t do their job.

What he couldn’t figure was why he still had all his teeth, why he was conscious, sitting here, playing at words if she had him nailed down. The young ones would’ve killed him—monsters didn’t know their own strength or didn’t care. Finder wouldn’t still be conscious or in control of himself if she were stronger.

Before he could sleuth out an answer to his questions or hers, the train lurched, wheels grinding on rails. 

Next to them, the window rattled with a thunderous boom.

A split second of chaos, before the shouts. Finder was up, moving, toward the cabin where he’d stashed another guise. A smooth hand clasped his wrist in an iron grip and Finder’s blood froze. Those playful red eyes looked more than a little menacing as the dining car rocked and the gas lamps smothered themselves.

People shouldered past them—some shouted questions at Finder—and the girl tugged them toward the other end of the train. They crossed cars and he caught a glimpse of the back of the train curving along the trestle. Bright flames and black smoke billowed from the storage cars, indistinct figures blurring on top. Cloudheads fighting?

Finder’s stomach sank. Keeper’s dead then—or worse. He cried out as the grip around his wrist clenched painfully, but when he pulled away, the girl let him. Both of them stood, wind whipping their hair, watching, stunned, as the last car tipped. With a horrible screech, it came free, jerked, and plunged like a burning comet down into the valley below.

Somehow, Finder recovered first, and he took two steps before turning back to the still-frozen girl. She might have answers, he told himself.

“Come on.” He touched her shoulder and she jumped. “I’ve got a change in our room. Keeper’s stuff oughta fit you—might be a little tight in the chest.”

“What?”

“You’re not with them, right?” He asked as he pulled them into the car. “And you knew what to say.”

Staring down into the canyon, he could see two figures now, outlined against the setting sun as they looked to where the last car had fallen. The train was starting to slow, brakes squealing—there’d be a narrow window of time to make his escape before they came in and started asking pointed questions. Finder didn’t dare think about the chances he’d have if they’d gotten anything out of Keeper. He told himself she wouldn’t crack.

Wouldn’t ever have a chance to. Damn it.

The cloudhead girl was quiet in an almost unsettling way, mumbling something to herself with words that Finder couldn’t quite catch. At least she dressed quickly.

“When the train slows enough, we’ll jump. Roll when you land, then get low and stay low. Cloudheads have good senses, but they’re bad at paying attention.” He waved a hand in front of the girl’s face. “Hey, not the time—panic later.”

“She can’t be dead. Yeah… There’s no way. That wouldn’t make sense. She can’t be dead,” the girl mumbled, then looked up at Finder with a frightening smile. “You’ll get me to her. We’ll go find her.”

“Who—wait, we don’t got time for this.” Finder opened the door to the small cabin and looked both ways. “We’re clear.”

She followed him out and he could feel her gaze piercing him.

“Call me Finder,” he said nervously as they reached the break between cars. There were people moving through, but no one was really paying attention as he slipped to one side and got a foot on the railing.

“Get ready. When I say—”

Strong, thin arms grabbed him and hauled them both off the edge. Lavender-hair hit the ground first, and Finder’s stomach lurched as she pulled him up, dragging him half a dozen steps before he could gulp down air.

“Down!” he hissed, kicking at her shin.

Somehow, they both went down in a tangle. Finder didn’t move, and he tried to tune out the girl’s mumbling as the train rumbled past, slower and slower. When the last car had gone past, he dared to get up. 

Nothing happened, besides the girl standing up next to him. No one dove in from the trees or made some proclamation behind them. He breathed out a long, shaky breath. Not dead yet. Stranded in the wilderness, but I don’t have to get questioned.

“Hey, you…” Finder frowned. “Got a name I can call you? It’d make it a lot easier.”

“Lea,” she said simply. “What’s yours?”

“Finder—I already told you.”

“Did you…” She looked at the tracks and back toward the river. “I’m gonna go find her.”

“Wait!” he grabbed her wrist and stumbled a step before she stopped. “You go there and the cloudheads’ll get ya. You’re one of ‘em, but some different faction, right?”

“Sure, yeah.” She shrugged. “We broke their prison mine place.”

Finder blinked. Wait, was she the one who… Then Nita was right—that message really was from Enic.

“I’m sorry about your friend, but if she was in that car, she’s dead. And if she’s not dead yet, the bloodstone’ll get her or she’ll drown. And if she survives all that, the cloudheads’ll get her.”

“Do you call it bloodstone too?” Lea asked.

“Yeah?”

Lea snorted, then chuckled, then doubled over laughing. Finder was about to reach out to steady her when she bolted upright.

“But she’s not dead. She can’t be dead. You’re gonna help me find her.”

Finder shook his head. “Listen, Lea. I’m sorry, but I can’t. But if you helped Enic and you really want to help us, then—”

He choked, head spinning as he hit the forest floor. The slender hand around his neck was hard as iron, nails digging into his skin. He stared up into wide, mad red eyes.

“She’s not dead. You’re gonna take me back to Hearthome, and then we’re gonna find her.”

Finder nodded rapidly, then coughed as the pressure released. “We’ll… find her. Does she… name?”

“Silk,” the girl said cheerily with a smile that was entirely too wide. “I can’t wait to see how this turns out!”

MadMaxine

Azalea is a perfectly sane girl.

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