When Yanto casts a suspicious glance at the sky and declares he’s worried about the weather I almost laugh. It’s one of the most beautiful days we’ve encountered yet on our journey.

  We’re still following the old train tracks, but we’re no longer in the forest and now the tracks run parallel to the base of a low cliff overlooking a wide, sandy area. Thirty or forty feet to our left this drops off sharply to form a steep riverbank. It’s a bright day under a cloudless sky and the air is clear and sharp.

  Only when Xan follows Yanto’s gaze to the horizon and asks, “Should we find somewhere to wait it out?” do I realize he’s serious. I exchange a glance with Amiyah, who looks as baffled as I am.

  To her right, Matthew frowns.

  “What makes you think there’s anything to worry about?”

  “It’s something in the air.” Yanto’s eyes dart as if he can see something we can’t. “It crackles. You never want it to crackle.”

  “You don’t?” I lift my head like I’m trying to catch a scent, my body instinctively looking for some evidence of whatever he is sensing. I don’t feel a crackle in the air.

  Alarmingly, Xan looks a little worried. I can only assume this is not the first time Yanto has made such a prediction, and that he’s been proven right in the past.

  Still, with the rock face to our right and the river to our left, there’s nowhere to go but onward. We pick up the pace a little, but the weather remains pleasant and non-threatening for long enough that the sense of impending threat begins to fade.

  After a while, the stretch of hard sand begins to narrow as the river and the rock face converge. It starts so gradually I barely notice, and then we find ourselves walking single file on a narrow lip of riverbank and I wonder how I missed the transition. The sound of the river grows louder until I can no longer hear Amiyah and Ren chattering behind me, then louder still.

  I glance up when Xan, who is walking ahead of me, stops and turns to face me. Her face is pale and drawn, and my eyes widen in alarm. It’s not an expression I like seeing on the warrior of our little company.

  She leans toward me to be heard over the rushing water. “If we get separated, meet at the train graveyard. Follow the tracks.”

  “Why would we be…”

  She holds up a hand to cut me off. “Questions later. Pass it down the line.”

  It’s never good when Xan says “Questions later.”

  I turn back to pass the message on to Amiyah and stop dead. The storm overtaking us at staggering speed is unlike anything I’ve seen before.

  A virtual wall of rain rushes toward us, eclipsing the road behind us and swallowing the world into itself as it approaches. Already, everyone behind Rissa has disappeared into the downpour, and it’s nipping at her heels.

  I turn and begin to run, feeling a little foolish even as I do, until I see Xan tilted forward and running breakneck ahead of me.

  When it reaches me a moment later, the downpour instantly limits my visible world to a space only as wide as I am. If I hold my arm out in front of me, I can see my fingers, but everything beyond them is an indistinguishable blur.

  Instinctively I move to my right, reaching out until I feel the rock wall. I keep my hand on it as I trudge forward. The rain is shockingly cold but with the rock face under my fingers, I can at least avoid stumbling into the river. Within a few minutes the sand beneath my feet has turned to mud, and I’m sloshing, then sliding in it. The earth transforms so quickly I worry that my feet will sink in before I reach cover of any kind.

  I hear Xan’s voice calling something I can’t quite make out. Still, it’s comforting to know she’s still there. “Keep your hand on the wall!” I shout back to Amiyah. She shouts something incoherent and waterlogged back, so I know she’s there at least. A moment later, I hear another, quieter shout as we continue down the line, verifying each other’s existence.

  We go on like this for a long time. I don’t sink into the mud, but my pace slows considerably as it sucks at my boots. We keep calling to each other at intervals. Someone near the back of the line screams, and a moment later, I catch a glimpse of something enormous hurtling past me in the river and hear the Professor’s terrified bellow as it carries him away.

  My stomach drops, but I can’t think about it right now. I can’t think about the sweet, gentle bal-ghoro, nor about our supplies strapped to his back. I duck my head into the storm and trudge on.

  Some interminable time later, the deluge begins to let up. I notice the change in the light before I feel any difference. I can see a little farther ahead of me than I could before. Then, a few minutes later, farther still. My hands are numb, and the cliff face that was my only guide came to an end some time ago. I don’t know how long it’s been since I heard a call from any of my companions.

  Suddenly panicked, I shout for Xan, then Amiyah. No one answers.

  I stop walking for a moment. Maybe I should wait until the rain has lifted enough that I can find my bearings. But then, what if the rest of them don’t stop, and they leave me even farther behind? What if I leave them behind? I could have passed Xan and Yanto within a few yards and never have noticed.

  Eventually, the feel of my feet slowly sinking into the mud makes the decision for me. I keep walking, but slowly. I can make out neither the cliff edge nor the river, so I keep my eyes on my feet just to make sure they’re on solid ground. When the weather clears, I’ll decide what to do next.

  By the time the monsoon has become a light drizzle, it’s well past sunset. I’ve shouted til my voice is hoarse, but either I have wandered too far from my companions or they from me. I’m not going to find them tonight.

  I no longer see any hint of train tracks, and the shadowed slopes rising to either side of me lead me to believe I’m in some sort of shallow valley. I search a while for a place to stop and eventually settle on a small copse of trees off to my right. There’s no use walking all night and getting even further lost. Maybe if I stop, one of the others will find me. I’m bone-tired anyway, and soaked through.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  I brought a small tent for shelter from rain, but it is of course slung on the Professor’s back. The thought of the animal ushers in a wave of unexpected grief and I push it away.

  I dig through my sopping backpack for one of my dreaded envelopes of rice and beans. It’s still raining and I can’t start a fire so I eat it cold, which makes the rice hard and even more unpleasant than usual.

  Using the bag as a pillow, I lay on my side between the tree roots. The ground between them is soft, but not a full-on swamp. Thank the stars for that at least.

  Despite my exhaustion I sleep poorly and wake up soggy and miserable. My first instinct is to change into something less damp but it only takes a moment sifting through my pack to determine no such clothes exist.

  I wring everything out as well as I can before re-packing it, and eat some of the raisin protein bar Rissa gave me from Khalid’s pack. He always made an effort to share with me when he was alive and Rissa kept it up after his death by donating some of his favorite snacks to me.

  I try to get my bearings. My impression from last night of being in a valley turns out to be correct. Gentle hills rise on either side of the muddy road I walked. Nothing else looks remotely familiar. Strain as I might, I hear no evidence of a nearby river.

  Should I retrace my steps out of the valley and back toward where I lost the others, or push forward in hopes of catching up to them? What if they are all separated too?

  I take a deep breath to ease my rising panic. It subsides a little when I remember that we made a plan for this exact contingency. Xan and Yanto knew there was a chance we would get separated, and made sure I knew where to go if that happened. All I need to do is find the railroad tracks again and follow them to the train graveyard. And hope beyond all hope that the others figured that out as well.

  My examination of the ground in the valley’s center yields no evidence of tracks. My best guess is that I somehow turned off the tracks at some point, meaning if I turn back, I can likely find them again. Even if it means doubling back a little, I can’t be that far from where we started—I was certainly making slow enough progress in the rainstorm.

  Thus settled, I set off back in the direction from whence I came. It’s not a pleasant journey. The road is still thick with mud, and last night’s bed of tree roots left my body stiff and aching.

  It takes me the better part of the morning to make it back out of the valley, my frustration rising with every step. This second delay could destroy any chance I had of making it to Cabe’s Falls before the train. Even if I do, it may be too late to interfere with whatever Nev has planned. I have no way of knowing, and the powerlessness of pressing forward against time without being able to influence it in the slightest infuriates me.

  The drip-drip-drip of water from my pack as I walk infuriates me. The constant sweat and water from my hairline sliding down my forehead and into my eyes infuriates me. The fact that I have nothing dry with which to wipe it away infuriates me.

  By the time I emerge from the valley and become aware of the distant noise of the river, my impotent rage is boiling over. I drop my pack, turn to the valley behind me, and scream, pouring my wrath into it. The valley accepts my fury with serenity and offers only silence in return.

  This infuriates me.

  I try two or three more times and, receiving neither apology nor reassurance in reply, stamp my feet like a petulant child and turn away.

  Feeling slightly foolish, I reclaim my damp pack and set off once more toward the sound of the river.

  I find it in the late hours of the morning, judging by the sun. The water looks clean and crisp, and I have to restrain myself from peeling off my muddy clothes and wading in. It’s not rushing as frantically as it was last night, but the memory of the Professor’s helpless cry as it carried him away in its arms haunts me.

  Instead, I follow it. At least it’s a clear direction.

  Eventually, to my intense relief, I spot an old metal rail peeking through the mud. Then, the end of a wooden tie. Soon, the remains of the old tracks are clearly visible. I pick up my pace a little now that I am sure I’m headed in the right direction. I hope the others will wait for me. I comfort myself that the odds of my being the last to arrive are low. Surely I was not the only one detoured by the storm. I hope Ren and Amiyah are together at least.

  My hopes rise when, an hour or two later, I look up from watching my feet to spot a lone figure sitting on the ground a ways ahead. I can’t make out their features, but surely it’s one of us.

  My mood sours again when I get closer, and the figure becomes recognizable. Of course it is Lucas. That’s exactly how my day is going.

  He watches my approach, hand over his eyes to block the sun.

  “Hey Tali,” he says when I’m close enough to hear.

  “What incredible luck.”

  He holds his hands up in a don’t blame me gesture. “You look like shit, by the way.”

  “Yeah, I got stuck in the middle of nowhere in an apocalyptic storm trying to catch up to the train that I got kicked off of because some fucking bloodrotted bastard set me up.”

  He falls into step beside me. “Ah, the classic bastard-on-a-train story.’”

  I give him a look so outraged that he takes an involuntary step backward.

  “Okay, yeah. Sorry. Too much.”

  “Literally what the fuck. You ruined my life, do you not get that? And for what exactly?”

  “You’re right. Sorry. I was just…”

  “That wasn’t a rhetorical question.”

  He says nothing.

  I stop suddenly and round on him, seizing the front of his soggy t-shirt.

  “I’m fucking serious, Lucas. We’re having this out right now, or you can cog off and find your way alone.”

  He sighs, resigned, and holds his hands up again, this time in surrender. “Okay, okay. Ask what you need to ask, but I wasn’t lying before. I really don’t know what Nev is planning.”

  “That only makes your participation in it that much more fucking baffling,” I snap. “You mean to tell me you robbed the Conductor and then framed me for the theft, and you have no idea why?”

  He looks helplessly around, not wanting to meet my eyes. “I mean… I have some idea, but I don’t know.”

  “Really?” I demand. “That’s it?”

  He sighs again. I’m about done with him sighing as if I am the unreasonable party here. “She said she was desperate and needed my help. I thought I was being a good friend.”

  I’m struck speechless for a few seconds.

  “Blighted blood, Lucas, I thought for sure she must have blackmailed you or threatened your family or something, but no, you don’t even have the decency to make something up?”

  “You want me to lie?”

  “I want you to have had a reason! I want you not to have derailed my entire life—don’t you dare make a train joke—as a cogging favor to a girl you wanted to fuck. With no regard for the consequences.”

  He has the earth-shattering audacity to look affronted at this. “I didn’t want to…”

  “No!” I stop him, pointing a shaking finger in his face. “You don’t get to be indignant. You fucked me over, knowingly, on purpose, for no. Cogging. Reason.”

  “Okay,” he says slowly, as if trying to calm a child in the midst of a tantrum. “That’s fair. I just…”

  But it’s too late. This has been boiling over for months, and I have been looking for something or someone to bear the brunt of my rage and anxiety all day.

  “No, it’s not. It’s not fair. Irresponsible? Yes. Illegal? Definitely yes. Supremely fucked? Absolutely. But you know what else it is, Lucas? It’s pathetic. I can’t think of anyone I would do that for without asking a single question. Just … ‘Oh, you want me to rob a powerful mage? On it! What’s that, you want me to plant the ring I stole on a person who hasn’t done shit to me? Say no more!’”

  With each of these last words I place my hands on his chest and shove him. On the third shove he loses his balance and lands on his backside in the mud.

  “You know what, you stay there for a while,” I say coldly. “I’m going ahead. I’m sure you’ll catch up at the graveyard.”

  He doesn’t follow me.