Her legs were aching by the time she reached the top, and Pixit flopped down on the station platform. She looked back—​Papa’s cart was tiny down at the bottom, and she could see the farmlands beyond. Maybe as far as home? She couldn’t be certain. The fields—​dark green, pale green, brown, golden yellow—​stretched for miles in every direction, and the houses were specks in the distance. Her fingers itched to sketch them.

Far to the north and west, impossibly far, were the mountains. Sometimes it was hard to believe that anything was beyond them. Mother would have said, “Nothing that concerns us anyway. Mind your chores instead.”

The bell rang again, and Mina nudged Pixit back to his feet. Look! It’s beautiful! The ship was coming closer. It was glorious: painted black wood, three wide white sails on each of three masts, a lookout platform at the top of the center mast, and red banners with the symbol of the sun embroidered on each one.

“Tickets, please,” a man said.

Mina turned to the stationmaster, a man in a gray uniform with the same Alorrian sun symbol on his chest. Wordlessly, she presented their tickets.

“Ah, the barren lands.” He marked them and handed them back to her. “Funny—​you don’t seem the lightning type.”

Startled, she stared at him.

“I see a lot of new lightning-guardians-to-be come through on their way to Mytris. Most are reckless, arrogant things who wouldn’t care if their beast burned that rope. Yes, I watched you as you came up. Appreciated your carefulness.”

She wasn’t sure what to say to that. Thank you, maybe? Or You’re welcome? “I’m bonded to a lightning beast. I am going to be a lightning guardian.”

“Are you now?” The stationmaster humored her. “Well, when your ship sails through the city, you’ll see what you’ll do with your beast, once you finish your training.” He tipped his hat to her. “Enjoy your journey.”

“I will,” Mina promised, but he was busy already preparing for the ship’s arrival.

«You’re worrying again,» Pixit said.

No, I’m not.

«I can taste it.»

As the ship drew closer, she saw its sailors scurrying over the deck. Shouting to the stationmaster, they called, “Ready the dock!”

“Ready the ship!” he called back.

A plank was laid between the ship and the dock, and the sailors bustled back and forth. No one so much as glanced at her and Pixit, and she did her best to stay out of the way.

Crates were moved off.

Crates were moved on.

And, at last, the stationmaster turned to her and said in a kindly voice, “On you go, both of you. Quick now, before the wind picks up.”

Only then did Mina notice that the steady wind had died down—​long enough for the ship to stop, load, and unload. It would start again shortly.