Chapter 33

As soon as Nico and his men stepped off the passenger car, Aramis and Marcus went to work. Using a few of the Attano Benders, they separated the tender car from the one I hid inside with Adler and Gideon. My brother and our usual driver would drive the engine to the roundhouse, where a turntable would redirect the train to head back to the Row. Only two cars could fit on the round platform—the engine and the tender—so we had to wait until they came back for us to reconnect.

We sat in silence and shrouded in darkness, too worried to show a flame in the windows and reveal our presence. The men in our car had let themselves out to guard it with the rest, the number of them enough of an excuse for the requirement of two passenger cars instead of one and to distract from the idea anyone else—like myself—would still be inside.

The city was so quiet, we could hear the chime of the clock tower all the way in the Main Station from the Grounds. The first sound noted the hour just as Nico left. Then, thirty minutes later, the song of Lynchaven sung from the belfry. The three of us sat on the floor of the train car; neither of us had moved between the hour chime and the half-hour mark.

Gideon nudged my laced boot with the toe of his own, seated across from me. "You going to take that tab your brother sneaked you?"

My fist curled in my pocket around the pill. How he'd noticed Aramis slipping it inside my hand before we boarded was lost to me. My brother had expressed his worries of leaving my remnant unguarded in a situation like tonight, where discretion was imperative. No matter how much I practiced keeping it down, the power simmering in my veins seemed to flood every instinct when we came face-to-face with danger.

I shook my head. "No. We might need a little Chaos tonight if Nico doesn't get back in time. I can't risk being powerless." I promised I'd protect this train, and I intended to keep my word—even if it risked the safety of the Districts. Even if it meant exposing myself.

Gideon nodded. "Glad to hear it. We need you, Milla." It was difficult to make out his face in the spare bits of moonlight sneaking through the breaks in the blinds covering the windows, but there was a relief in his voice as he spoke.

Warmth spread across my chest at his admittance. It felt good to be needed outside of my family name for once. "I kept it just in case I can't control it. I'd hate to hurt anyone nearby."

"Of course." His voice quieted a level. "I wouldn't judge you if you took it now, Milla. Just want you to be comfortable."

"Thanks, Gideon."

Though I had a remnant like the descendants of the Row, I'd always consider the Districts my home. I'd grown up here, knew most of the working men and women in the Wet District. They were friends and clients, people that were neither evil nor malicious despite the government representing their interest.

The Order of Inner Courts spoke for this city, governed this Isle, but a river dividing our worlds didn't make us enemies. And I hoped, when the time came—and it would come—they would have the courage to stand up for what was right. That what happened on the Continent would never happen here because they knew the truth and wouldn't let manipulative men in high seats tell them what to believe and how to think.

Until that reckoning hour, however, I'd protect them any way I could, starting with keeping the fight away from those who rested in this restless city.

"Gideon?" I whispered in the dark. "Don't tell Aramis I didn't take it. Or tell Nico that he offered it to begin with." We were all skating over thin ice after Sabina's.

A long exhale left him. "He's my boss. I won't lie if my cousin asks me, Milla, but I won't bring it up."

I scoffed. "Fair enough."

After what felt like an eternity, the car moved. A sharp wind whipped through the car as the benders remnants pushed the railcar up the tracks to connect with the engine once more, which was now facing the opposite direction. A groan of metal rubbing metal rumbled through the floor as they attached it to the tender.

"That went smoothly," Adler said quietly beside me. He stood to stretch, peering out a window to assess the progress.

"Perhaps the OIC was honest in their intentions for once," I said.

The brothers shook their heads.

"Doubtful," Adler said. "They're waiting for something. Don't lower your guard until we're back across the river."

I gazed out the sliver of space he'd made between the curtain and the window, watching as the Attanos' men surrounded the car. Each held shotguns against their chests, scanning the area with sharp eyes.

The door to the gangway connection opened and shut quickly as Aramis stepped inside. His clothes clung to his form with the sweat from working the engine. Despite the freezing night, he was flushed from the effort. He gestured to the cousins. "Alright, I did my job. Time for you two to get out there."

"Thought you were helping Marcus drive?" Gideon asked.

"Marcus has been doing this longer than I have been alive. He doesn't need help," Aramis clipped.

"Nico told us to stay with Milla—"

"I'll be with her. You are of better use with the men actually protecting the car."

They glanced at each other, communicating some wordless exchange.

"No," Adler said.

Aramis rolled his eyes. "Suit yourselves." He started unbuttoning his shirt then, ripping it off his chest to toss over an empty chair. "We still got the extra whiskey in the desk?" he asked me.

I shrugged and moved out of his way so he could search the drawers, eventually finding what he needed. He took a shot straight from the bottle before placing it on top of the desk.

"You shouldn't be drinking," I said.

"And you shouldn't be here, but when has a Marchese ever been reasonable?"

Unable to argue against his point, I crossed the length of the car to sit near the back—away from him. On the wall nearby was a clock, and I dreaded every lonely second as the hands ticked closer toward the ninth hour.

"Where are they?" I murmured. It shouldn't have taken this long if I had been right about the location. Hells if I was wrong—or if Nico had gotten in some sort of trouble on the way there—we'd wouldn't know until it was far too late.

My mind filled with every awful scenario until my head ached.

"He'll come back, Milla." Gideon came to stand beside me, his voice soft and assuring. His hand gripped my shoulder. "Nico always finds a way. You can count on him."

His smile had always been infectious—his faith, however, was not.

The door to the connection opened once more. A bender who'd been guarding the car. "We got trouble. Watchmen, a good legion of them, blocking the way back to the Row."

"Wondering when they'd show," Adler grumbled. "Did they say what they want?"

He nodded. "They say cars must be searched when they enter and leave the Districts. Said Mr. Attano was informed of these new parameters weeks ago."

Gideon stood in the aisle. "Not passenger cars. That's for freight cars and they know it."

The man shrugged. "Just passing along their—"

A bullet ripped through his neck. He wobbled slightly, his eyes going wide as he realized in that half second before death claimed him what had happened—and collapsed across the gangway.

I gasped, and the whole place erupted afterwards.

Gunshots went off with a fury outside, and we fell to the floor to avoid the shattered glass as stray bullets struck the windows and the walls of the train. Gideon darted to the back door of the car, guarding it since it was open and exposed while Adler crawled his way to the other.

The Watch had most likely asked our man to send a message to figure out which car was still in use. I cursed the simplicity of their tactics while ripping off my gloves.

"Camilla," Aramis growled and glanced at my hands, already primed from the reaction of my racing heart.

"I can do this, Aramis," I hissed. "Let me out and I'll finish them all." I could do it. I'd practiced controlling the ebb and flow of fire from my fingers, knew how to shape it into objects of annihilation. Fire was always unpredictable and dangerous, and I wasn't perfect—no, far from as good as I should be. The look in Aramis's eyes insisted he'd doubted I could contain it, but if I could save even one of our men at the risk of exposing what I was while possibly taking out half the station, it would be worth it.

"Not even as a last resort," he growled.

I rolled my eyes. The entire point of me being here was to be a last resort. What about that had he not understood?

Living with him for the last twenty-one years had trained me for this. He'd never believe in me. There was nothing I could do that would prove to him I was capable—nor was it my responsibility. I'd learned to have my mind long ago, and when it came to my remnant, I'd have to learn to have faith in myself again. Even if he didn't.

A line of bullets aimed at the hinges pelted the door behind us. Gideon moved aside to avoid being grazed, but the door fell open to reveal a pair of watchmen. They reached inside and snatched him before he could retaliate. Gideon screamed out as they touched the bare skin of his throat with their gloves.

"Gideon!" I rose to my knees to lunge after them.

My brother pulled me back down. "You'll not risk yourself for a fucking Attano!"

My glare bore into him. He had no authority over me anymore, though he didn't seem to realize that either. "I am an Attano."

My brother's gripped tightened, but I jerked out of his hold and darted toward the empty doorway in the back of the car. Adler was too busy guarding the front, shooting and dodging incoming bullets.

Gunsmoke curled in the night air, but no one lingered behind the car as I peered out, searching for Gideon. Flashes from their guns briefly illuminated the haze, like dry lightning in a cloud.

Stay in the car.

I muttered a silent apology to Nico and climbed down to the tracks, but I couldn't sit by and let the guards take Gideon. Considering how they treated descendants? We'd be right back here in a few weeks, playing another game of risk and wagers.

Pulling my revolver from its sheath and my hood over my head, I remained low, crossing over the tracks to swiftly find cover behind a parked railcar. Moonlight cut beams of silver over the yard as passing clouds drifted across the star-filled sky. Already, small flames twisted between my fingers. But they didn't do any harm—not until I told them to.

A force of wind slapped my form as the benders used their remnants to fight back. Their windstorm turned up dust between the gravel, worsening the visibility. Sparks bit at my cheek as lead bullets skimmed the aluminum wall of the railcar. There seemed to be no line to define sides. I waited until the bullets paused, for the watchmen to reload, before running to another car parked idle on the tracks. Gideon and his attackers were still nowhere to be found.

Someone shouted an order to withdraw. Footsteps charged toward my location, disturbing the gravel between the tracks. With no further cover, I went to the railcar door and pulled—finding it locked.

I let my fire spill from my fingertips, corroding the lock, drawing back the flames as I practiced before so it wouldn't take out the entire door as well. With the men nearly upon me, I quickly slipped inside the empty car and crouched between two rows of leather seats, keeping my head below the window. Their voices carried through the thin glass.

"Not here . . . Came alone."

"Is he done?"

"Hold out a few more minutes."

"Giver and Greed."

Their words were clipped and sparse, dimming as they walked quickly past the car. A quick peek over the edge of the window and I was alone once more.

"Where are you, Gideon?" I murmured, my words fogging the glass. Moving to the other side, I scanned the darkened marshaling yard for any sign of the cousin. Dead men from both sides scattered the empty tracks, but none of them resembled Gideon. My heart broke for them, anyway, knowing Nico would have to notify every single one of their families. Such an unnecessary way to die.

The car rocked as the wind from the remaining benders picked up, a strength joining them that hadn't been there before. The windows rattled, and I covered my head just in time as every single one of them imploded from the gale.

I didn't know which of the Attanos had that kind of strength—only experienced with Nico's. But this breeze didn't feel like his, a kind I'd know anywhere. The yard went still then; the dust stirred from the gust settled some to clear the view. I stood slowly, inching toward the door with my gun still in hand.

He appeared from a haze of dust.

Gideon limped down the tracks. His face bloody, his clothes shredded and falling off his body. He winced as his right foot took a step. I jumped out of the side of the car and ran to help him.

"Gideon, are you alright?" I asked. He blinked several times at me, as if not believing his eyes.

"I'm nearly drained," he groaned. "I need to get back... You shouldn't be out here."

Behind him, the flash of a gun drew my attention. The silver barrel caught the moonlight. But before the watchman pulled the trigger, I shoved Gideon to the side with my shoulder and fired first.

He dropped, and the last gun went quiet in the yard.

"Thanks," Gideon gasped out from the ground. I pulled him up and threw his arm around my shoulders to assist him back to the train.

"Was that you who created that gust?" I asked.

He nodded. "I had three men on top of me, took turns beating me to a bloody pulp. One of them stabbed me three times in the side—"

"Hells, Gideon!"

"I'll be fine. It wasn't deep. He was going for nine. Heard him counting down. Before the glint from his blade could take effect, I used all the power I had left to push them off. I think I might have sent them flying for a few blocks."

I sighed. "Good."

The train came into view just as we rounded a parked car. Steam billowed from the chimney as Marcus tended the boiler and kept the engine hot. The watchmen had all but disappeared, and I couldn't help but wonder—what was the point of this? Why attack just to retreat a few minutes later?

The distant chime of the clock tower informed me it had been much longer than a few minutes. My adrenaline distorted the perception of time, making it difficult to think past the next second.

Adler saw us coming and jumped out of the private car to assist me. Taking Gideon's full weight, I slipped out from under his arm and was about to board after them... until something caught my eye down the tracks.

A watchman crawled from under the train, his pale cheeks sullied with black. He glanced around, a pistol in his hand, when he caught me watching him.

"Stop!" I said, my gun pointed at him. "What are you doing?"

He froze, eyes wide. Dressed in a similar fashion to the rest of the Watch with a black uniform, he didn't wear a cape or a mask. This one was of no rank or importance. They'd left him behind.

On top of that, he was soaking wet.

"Tell me what is going on, and I'll let you live," I told him, keeping the tone of my voice as calm as I could.

His jaw clenched while his chest rose and fell with quick breaths. The grip on his gun adjusted.

"Don't even think about it," a man hissed behind him. One of the hired benders appeared from the haze that hadn't quite cleared yet, his own weapon aimed at the trespasser.

"We can read your thoughts," I lied. There wasn't a remnant that could do such a thing in our group, but he didn't have to know that. "We can take your thoughts, or you can give them freely—and walk away tonight. The choice is yours."

Before either the bender or I could react, the man pointed his gun to his temple, and shot himself.