The Essence

And that was when she heard it. The train . . .

. . . pulling away from the station.

x

Out in the streets, the wind had picked up. Ignoring my protests, Zafir had sent someone back inside the train for my cloak, and even now, as I stood before the stone hearth inside the tavern, warming my cold hands in front of the blazing fire, I was grateful for the shelter it provided. The hood concealed my hair and most of my face, making me feel like I was wearing a disguise, although Zafir’s presence still drew unwelcome notice wherever we went.

It was hard to ignore a giant.

He’d left me alone for only a moment, casting cautionary glares at everyone within spitting distance as he went to get me some tea. Under normal circumstances Zafir wouldn’t wait on me, but I was still shivering, and my teeth clattered noisily, making it nearly impossible to speak.

Outside in the streets, beyond the tavern’s walls, I could no longer hear the rumble of hooves, and I knew Sebastian and the others had headed just outside of town, giving the horses room to run before reloading them back onto the train for the remainder of our journey.

Inside the tavern, however, there were the sounds of dishes being slammed against the long wood-planked tables, mingled with raucous laughter and loud voices. A drunken lot in one far corner warbled a bawdy tune about a farmer’s daughter. Not one of the crooners seemed aware of me . . . or my giant.

Along with the smell of burning wood, I inhaled the scents of tobacco and rubbed meats and candle wax as I took in the eclectic furnishings and decor. Black wax dripped onto the tables and floors, creating dark pools beneath the rusty chandeliers overhead. This was the kind of place a girl, one who wasn’t a queen, could easily get lost.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t so lucky. I spotted the periodicals, first one and then another, and then an entire stack of them, scattered across the nearby tables. When the front door opened, one of them was carried on the breeze that rushed in, and it landed near my feet.

I stooped down, letting my cloak fall around my face as I studied it. I didn’t need to, of course. I’d already seen this particular bit of news. I’d already seen this image.

I stepped closer to the fire, crumpling the paper into a tight ball and I tossed it in. I stood there, watching it disintegrate into a thousand pieces of ash, until nothing remained.

And then I heard a sound that seemed compellingly familiar, something I was certain I should recognize. I cocked my head, waiting for it again. It seemed to have vanished, the noise, evaporating into the din of the alehouse around me.

Scanning the room, my eyes fell on a hunched figure huddled at one of the tables. His black eyes watched me with an intensity that made me retreat within my own skin and I caught myself tugging my hood taut around my throat.

Yet I couldn’t tear my gaze away from him. Nor his from me. I saw him, bit by bit, lift one of his fingers to his lips in a gesture that warned me to be silent.

I swallowed hard, telling myself to look away, to search for Zafir within the crowd. To run. To flee from this man. But he held me like that, immobilized, for several long moments while I hoped I was still breathing. While I prayed that my heart was still beating.

The slow, grinding sound came again, that whisper of metal against metal, breaking the spell the man held me under, and this time a shiver of recognition coursed through me.

I knew that sound. This time I recognized it.

It was the train. And it was leaving.

My gaze shot wildly around the tavern, searching for Zafir and coming up empty. How was that possible? Where had he disappeared to? He’d never leave me alone like this.

Clumsily, I took a step and felt a voice at my ear, just behind me. I didn’t have to see the man’s face to guess that it was him. The menacing voice matched the black eyes to perfection.

“Don’t move,” he warned, his hand clutching my arm through the thick fabric of my cloak.

Again, I searched for Zafir—my giant. And again, I couldn’t find him.

“What do you want?” I begged. But he shushed me, clamping his fingers more tightly as he pulled me backward, dragging me to someplace I couldn’t see.

I thought about screaming, about struggling and calling for help. Surely someone would notice, even among this ribald mob. Surely someone would stop him.

But his next words froze the words in my throat.

“If you so much as peep, your guardian dies. Understood?”

My guardian. Zafir.

I nodded. And I was lugged through an almost unnoticeable doorway behind the hearth.

brooklynn

It had taken Brook far too long to scramble back up the hillside she’d just skidded down. She’d lost precious time. Time she could ill afford to waste.

And now she pushed her horse, barreling toward town as fast as the animal would carry her. Beneath her she could see the veins bulging in his withers, sweat lathering his sleek coat.

It didn’t matter, though, she needed to get to Charlie. She couldn’t miss that train.

But a part of her knew—even though she refused to admit defeat—that she was already too late. She could see the train, too far away now, gaining momentum with each turn of its wheels as the horse beneath her began to lag, ever so slightly.

She dug in her heels harder and slapped his hindquarters. “Yah!” she screamed until her throat was raw. “Yah!”

She barely slowed as she approached the empty tracks at the station, even as she raced headlong into the awaiting crowd of her own men, each tethered with horses and looking as confused as she was. The train was long gone, there was no denying that now.