Page 131 of Voidwalker
The coil of metal vanished, sent to the Shard on the other side.
“Fuck yes!” Fi pumped her fists above her head. She’d never tried passing objects through Curtains on their own, and though she’d practiced on smaller scraps of metal, succeeding with a full coil on a moving train ranked as a shout-worthy achievement.
“Ingenious,” Antal said. “You have your clever moments, Fionamara.”
That impressed tone slipped out of him more often, littlechips of gold Fi snatched up and coveted for reasons she didn’t care to talk about.
Anotherclack. Another Curtain. Another coil of metal passed through. They repeated the process three more times, sending their weighty contraband onto Shards to pick up later with Aisinay and a cart. With their quota met, Fi and Antal split apart.
“Check the rest of the cargo cars for anything useful,” she ordered. “I’ll pop up front, see if they’ve got weapons worth snatching near the engine car.”
“Be quick, Fionamara,” Antal warned. “We shouldn’t linger.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Fi hid her black-and-rainbow hair beneath a furry hat then pulled open the door between cars, heading for the passenger section.
For anyone not a Voidwalker—most humans—the transplane train was the only route of transport between worlds. The backmost passenger car was outfitted for cheap fares: wooden benches, minimal padding. Overhead, shelves rattled with the briefcases of accountants hopping between jobs, the stuffed duffel bags of travelers visiting long-distance family. Fi had only ever ridden trains for the purpose of meeting clients. She kept her head down, avoiding eye contact with the passengers.
The next car smelled of perfume. Wood polish. Benches faced one another in little alcoves with plusher cushions, relaxing panel lights. A carpet muffled the rattling beneath Fi’s boots. Here, the passengers were entrepreneurs or wealthy families visiting warmer holiday residences. Little use to Fi, but most trains kept a security closet farther up, a chance to snag a couple of weapons for Nyskya. She pressed forward, finding an easier time avoiding glances as passengers sheltered in their private cubbies.
The ticket inspector heading down the aisle posed moretrouble. He wore a forest green suit with two lines of brass buttons. Young. Hopefully inexperienced.
“Check your ticket, miss?”
Fi put on a cheek-splitting smile. “Oh, my seat’s just ahead.” She pointed down the aisle and tried to nudge past.
The inspector blocked her way. Shit.
“Of course,” he said. “I’ll need to check your ticket first.”
Fi dug through her coat pockets. A dramatic frown. “Oh no! I don’t have it on me.”
“Passengers are required to have their tickets at all times, miss.”
“Sure, sure. Terribly sorry. If I could head back to my seat, I’m sure I can dig it up.”
Fi tried to sneak past the inspector again. He blocked her again, growing suspicious. She weighed her chances of fibbing through this, versus retreating to the back cars to rejoin Antal.
Then, a velvet voice sounded behind her.
“There you are, darling.”
Ice in Fi’s lungs. Molten lead in her mouth. Splinters beneath her fingernails. Anything would be less agonizing than that spoiled-honey cadence, that purr that she recognized in the hollows of her bones.
Fi’s chest tightened, all the world narrowing as she turned.
And faced Astrid.
29
Hello, darling, fancy seeing you here
The vavriter braced her hands on either wall of the aisle, willowy frame leaned into a posture of feigned ease. But Fi saw the asp underneath, caging her in. Astrid’s grin revealed too many teeth. She perched on the balls of her feet, coiled beneath the guise of tight trousers and a shirt of loose maroon silk. Her eyes didn’t glow like Antal’s. The ruby irises pooled like blood fresh-spilled from an artery.
Astrid.
HerAstrid, wearing those eyes Fi had met at Verne’s chateau, that vengeful spark trying to burn her alive. The foreign look threatened to render her numb, but Astrid’s step forward snapped Fi back to her senses. She braced for attack.
Astrid slid to her side like a lover. Like what they used to be.
