Io flinches. “The humans gave up the mines years ago. The bearkings say that happens sometimes, when the ground fails to give out any more of what they seek.”

The train eases into a slower pace, and the shouts of humans rise around us. Sethran steps around me, moving me out of the way with a gentle touch of my shoulder. He looks out a moment, using his hand like a cup around the space, keeping it dark as he looks out.

The train comes to a complete stop. A tremendous snap and clack echo from the car in front of us. Hooves scuff against the splintering wooden planks, followed by brays of protest and strain. It’s only a matter of moments before the humans come for the food and supplies in this car.

“My orders hold,” Io says, straightening up. “Get to the prince. At any cost.”

41

CALLEN

Sweat beads at my brow. At any moment, the humans will open the doors. The small fraction of seconds we’ll have to escape undetected will come and go like the beat of a wing.

“How far from here to the Cliffs?” Rowan whispers.

“Minutes,” Sethran replies. “Ten, maybe fifteen.”

“Skies keep us,” she says. We shouldn’t have blindly trusted the train, but of course we’re too late now—and it got us this close. To go west, we’ll have to go directly over the mines, or through them.

I look out of the car again, carefully. The train has stopped in a U-shaped settlement teeming with workers, miners, and Marchess’s soldiers. The miners carry themselves with a heavier stride, pickaxes in hand as they trudge toward the tunnels. The soldiers are more subdued, more confident.

“Why are they all here?” I whisper. Something must have drawn them in like ants to honey. I consider what Io said about the bearkings and say, “They must have found something else worth taking from the earth.”

“What about those flying machines you mentioned?” says Ox, addressing Callen. “They’d need some kind of power, like the train burning fuel at the front. Maybe it’s here.”

A pair of voices cuts our wondering short. Ox, closest to the door, tenses up. Axe in hand, I step up behind him with a quick touch of respect on his shoulder. I know he won’t forget Rowan quickly, but we are both warriors of the same cohort. We should have an effortlessly trusting relationship like Io and Sethran’s.

There’s the metal clunk of a latch coming undone, followed by the strain of the sliding wooden door opening.