The train was just sitting there on the track, quietly steaming when Jonathan saw that no one was in it. This was his chance, and he knew that if he missed it he wouldn’t get another. He walked as fast as could to the engine without looking suspicious, but there was no one watching him. The cab was just as empty as it had looked from the outside and the furnace door was easy enough to open. He basked in the heat for a moment, feeling the glowing embers call to him. That was when he pulled out his own glowing ember from his pocket to add to the pile. It was a fist sized ruby, but he could feel a dozen infernos chained inside of it. It begged to be thrown into the fire, and even though he thought it was a bad idea, there was no way he could refuse its hunger. 

He tossed it in the furnace and then shut the door as fast as he could, but cracks were already forming. The power needed to be released and he’d only gotten two of the latches locked before the whole train violently shuddered as it shattered and channeled all of its terrible heat into a boiler that was never meant for that much power. Jonathan looked around, worried that everyone had heard the explosion of breaking glass. How could they not? He needed to get off the train as soon as possible. It was all that mattered, but by the time he finished with the final latch and got the door, it was already moving too fast for him to jump. Instead of exploding into a million pieces like was supposed to, the train was going as fast as it could, faster even. Nothing had ever been made to move this quickly, but he couldn’t stop it now. Deep in the pit of his stomach he knew that nothing could stop this train after what he’d done, but he still pulled the brakes as hard as he could. The wheel ground against them and the engine was showered in sparks, until the handle finally broke off in his hands but the acceleration never stopped. 

That was when he reached the tunnel and the sunlight vanished forever. In the darkness of the tunnel he could see the heat escaping from the boiler around the edges, and that fire had replaced the thick black smoke that normally billowed from the smokestack. It was a hellish scene. The train glided along the rail into the depths of the earth spewing embers and sparks and there was nothing he could do to stop it, or even control where it was going. The worst part was that everyone would know though. Boriv would figure out that he’d stolen the train and he’d punish his family for it. You couldn’t expect to steal something so big and expensive and get away with it. He’d be the doom of his whole house and there was nothing he could do about it. All he could do was hold on. 

The deeper he got the stranger things were though. Gem studded caverns with glowing jewels flew by almost too fast to see. Huge bridges that crossed chasms of infinite darkness lasted a little longer. Only the mushroom forests lasted long enough for him to really get a good picture of their surreal beauty. Everywhere there were goblins though. They dwelled in hollowed out stalagmites and mushroom huts; they had terrible goblin cities made of bones and mud, and they always had weapons with them. They were a hungry tide that devoured everything - even the stones themselves if there was nothing else to eat. They got bigger too, the deeper he went, until just before the dank darkness gave way to the fiery depths he saw a goblin bigger than a house gaze hungrily at him, it’s nightmare mouth of broken teeth yawning wide like it was the last thing he would ever see. It lunged at the train but even huge as it was it  couldn’t move fast enough to catch the fiery locomotive as Jonathan sped past its maw. Even after it missed though, it kept chasing him.

It didn’t follow him into the fire though, and once he was on the iron bridge that crossed the sea of flame he could see a great golden city of the dwarves. It was so large that even though he was still going too fast it seemed to be without end. Every building was made of metal and everything was gilded to keep the heat of the flames at bay. Even the cloth was made of finely woven wire. It was a city that couldn’t burn, built where everything else had to. Jonathan shrank away from the heat of the doorway, but here was no escaping it. The dwarves didn’t care though. They loved the heat and wore furs and huge elaborate beards, even here. Some dwarves, probably the nobility, had beards so long and large they paid other younger dwarves to carry them so they wouldn’t get dirty on the metal streets of their city. 

Then the train crashed. It was the most terrifying sound he would ever hear, even if he lived to be as old as the dwarves around him. Not that they would live much longer. As the engine rebounded off a steel building after failing to go around a sharp corner, it instantly came to a stop,and Jonathan was thrown clear in time to watch it become a crumpled wreck. The rest of the cars though - each one piled on top of the next in a mounting pile of death, crushing any dwarf unlucky enough to be near this horrible scene. 

When everything finally came to a standstill, it was pure carnage. Jonathan crawled free of the wreckage, but only to find bodies everywhere. There were dozens of dwarves dead at his feet - hundreds maybe. He couldn’t escape them though. He couldn’t escape the guilt for what he did. He ran to the nearest door to look for his brother, to apologize to him for screwing up his plan and to beg him not to try anything else. But behind the door was only a courthouse and his brother was already bound before the headsman in chains. Jonathan tried to free him but the man with the axe effortlessly tossed him aside. “Don’t be so eager, boy. Your day will come,” the dwarf said, before hefting his weapon and slicing his brother's head off in one clean blow. 

There was no blood. That was the strangest part, Jonathan thought as he tried not to cry. There was no blood as Marcus’s head slowly rolled to a stop, face up at his feet. “Why in the hells didn’t you just follow the plan,” he said, scowling. Then the head grew still as life left it. Jonathan wanted to cry and explain. He wanted to beg for forgiveness, but he couldn’t. The dream was falling apart and details around the periphery of his vision were already falling apart and fading to gray. 

That's when he started awake to find his brother sitting on the foot of his bed. Neither the chilly room or the cold light of false dawn were as frigid as the look his brother gave him though. For second Jonathan thought he might still be dreaming. His brother had never woken him up before. Tired as he was right now he couldn’t actually think of a time that Marcus had been in his room, but he couldn’t. All  he could think about was that he didn’t look particularly happy to be here.

“Lord Shaw wanted me to talk to you before you left for the station.” Marcus said finally. “He wanted you to know that it’s been decided. This is going to happen today and you need to be the one to do it.”

“But why doesn’t father tell me himself,” Jonathan asked, disturbed that Marcus was referring to their father in the third person when it was just the two of them. “And why didn’t he seem to know what the hell I was talking about when we spoke last night?”

“I think you’ve done quite enough questioning Jon.” Marcus answered tiredly. “Know your place.” 

“You should know something too,” he said, taking heart from the strange dreams he could only barely remember now after only just waking up. “If you don’t answer me then I won't be a part of your crazy scheme. Not without talking to father at least.”

Marcus stood and for a moment his eyes glowed with rage. Jonathan was sure that he was going to strangle him for daring to talk back to him like that, but then the moment passed, and instead he answered, “Father’s known about this plan for a long time. He was the one that got the shard from a noble he knows in the capital. He was the one that put me in contact with Mr. Faen.”

“Then why didn’t he—” Jonathan said. 

“And if you wouldn’t have mucked it all up in the most confusing way possible then maybe he would have know what you were talking about and answered your questions himself, but now he’s asleep and he’s told me to do it in his stead.” Marcus continued, interrupting him. “He’s always known this was the plan - he just didn’t know the shipment was today because he didn’t want to know, but you screwed that up too, didn’t you.”

Under the withering fire of his brother’s scorn Jonathan collapsed like he always did. “I’m sorry Marcus, I—”

“And you should be.” Marcus spat pressing the warm rock that hid the shard into his hand. “And the only way to make amends is to stop asking questions and do what your family needs you to do.” Then he was gone, and the only evidence he’d ever been here was that damn shard in his hand. It burned almost as brightly as the guilt inside him did. 

If this is what father thought was best than who was he to disagree he thought as he dragged himself out of bed and hurriedly dressed to escape the chill. After all - even in the worst case scenario it’s not like he’d be killing actual people. “They’re only dwarves,” he repeated to himself quietly like a mantra while he fastened the buttons on his shirt. They didn’t really matter. But no matter how much he repeated it, he couldn’t make himself believe it. Even after he’d put his shoes on and went downstairs he still felt like a murderer. As he passed father’s door he considered opening it to try to talk some sense into him, but couldn’t quite muster the courage to do so. It was a risky plan, but if Lord Shaw had put it all together then clearly he’d decided the rewards were worth the risks. 

Downstairs Miss Marne already had a bowl of porridge and some buttered toast waiting for him. It wasn’t a real breakfast, but he got up for his apprenticeship so much earlier than the rest of the household that it wouldn't be ready by the time he needed to leave. Normally he wolfed the food down but today he only picked at it for a few minutes before he finally walked out of the manor’s door like a man condemned. The stone in his jacket felt like it might burn a hole right through the pocket at any moment, but Jonathan didn’t let that stop him. He was going to do what was best for this family, no matter what. He might find his brother’s methods distasteful but his loyalty was beyond question.