Chapter 8

Eight

Pip clutched her small bag of essential belongings to her chest as she sat on the cushy bench seat in the train's passenger car. The curved silver sides were filled with windows all down the car's length, providing plenty of views of the Tarenhieli forest for the elves inside.

Craning her neck, Pip located her parents and brother where they stood on the platform in Morne. She waved, not sure if they'd be able to see her through the glare on the windows.

Dacha's wave was the smaller, graceful elven tilt of a hand. Her muka gave that wide smile of hers that nearly disappeared into her beard as she waved back so exuberantly she nearly whacked a passing elf in the arm. Mak, too, was waving wildly enough to make the other elves on the platform give Pip's family a wide berth.

As the last passenger settled into a seat in the train car, the train eased into motion, soundlessly gliding forward on the root rail system, propelled by magic.

Only a few other elves currently filled the train car. They'd likely pick up more as the train wound its way from the far western edge of Tarenhiel and into the deeper forests of the elven heartland until they reached Estyra.

Most of Pip's belongings were stowed in the cargo train car. As she had purchased the cheapest through-ticket, she had an assigned bunk in the sleeping compartment. The bunks were stacked three high with only about two feet of headroom and little curtains to provide privacy from the neighbors. As she was small and short, the space was almost roomy for her, though she could only imagine how squashed her brother Mak would have been.

Mak. Muka. Dacha. She swallowed back the lump in her throat as she stared out the window, not really seeing the trees as they flashed by.

Was she doing the right thing in leaving home? She wasn't particularly patriotic or driven toward the lure of glory and adventure.

She just wanted…more. She couldn't even define what that more might be. It wasn't like she had been discontent at home. She loved working on the trains. She was just indefinably restless, much as she had been before she'd gone to study at Hanford University.

Perhaps that restlessness had never fully left, even after she'd returned.

She pulled out one of the manuals she'd kept from her university days. This one focused on the workings of magical power devices. She might as well use the time to brush up before she arrived. There would be additional training for the Mechanics Auxiliary, but she wasn't sure how much would be review and how much would focus specifically on aeroplanes and their engines. She didn't want to look ignorant compared to everyone else.

The closer they got to the center of Tarenhiel, the larger the trees became. Buildings had been grown into the branches, connected with branch pathways and swinging wooden bridges. On the ground, pathways meandered between the tree trunks. Elves either walked or bicycled as they went about their business. While elves had yet to take to the motorized vehicles that were growing in popularity in Escarland, the bicycle had quickly become ubiquitous even in the most far-flung elven village.

At supper time, an elf pushed a cart down the center aisle, and Pip paid for a sandwich.

After eating and making her way from the passenger car to her bunk, she wedged herself inside, shut the curtain, and slept the rest of the way to Estyra.

When the train pulled into Estyra the next morning, Pip had four hours to spend before her next train left south for Escarland. She stowed her luggage in a wooden locker provided in a tree near the train station, then joined the bustle of the elven capital city.

Towering trees rose so high into the sky that she couldn't even see the tops beyond the network of branches, empty of leaves as winter verged into a tentative spring. Without the leaves, the tiers of elven homes and shops grown into the trees were even more visible than in the summer, with elves strolling along branches between homes that were dizzying heights in the air.

At ground level, elves walked on either side of the meandering pathways while bicycling elves filled the center. The occasional elf on horseback rode by, but as bicycles were cheaper and required less maintenance than horses, many elves had switched in recent years.

To one side of the station, a massive airship hovered among the trees, a wooden gangway connecting it to a platform several stories in the air. A few humans strolled from the airship, heading into Estyra for sightseeing on this stop of their airship cruise.

A signboard at the train station showed a map of Estyra with important points marked in both Escarlish and the elvish language that was shared by the elves and trolls. It denoted the locations of Estyra's various inns, places to eat, and, of course, the elven palace of Ellonahshinel, the great oak tree that dominated one side of Estyra. Its name meant Heart of the Forest in elvish, and the tree itself was held in reverence.

Since she wouldn't be there long enough to need a place to stay, Pip wandered down the main street—well, grass-covered pathway—stopping at a few of the shops. She ate at a small café, then wandered east, heading in the direction of Ellonahshinel.

As she neared, the forest cleared slightly, giving her an unobstructed view of the oak tree that was so gargantuan that it made the already massive trees surrounding it look skinny. While Ellonahshinel wasn't the tallest tree, it was thick and sprawling, its branches holding the many grand rooms of the elven royal palace.

While Pip didn't have the full elven depth of veneration for trees, she halted at the end of the pathway, taking in the wonder that was Ellonahshinel, and something inside her stirred in a way that made her think she might have a bit of her dacha in her after all.

A thin fence formed of interlocking saplings demarcated the public roadway and the space beneath Ellonahshinel that was off-limits for regular citizens or tourists. A few elven guards, dressed in full elven armor regalia from shining helmets to metal and leather breastplates strolled back and forth across the open gateway to Ellonahshinel, looking for all the world as if they had stepped out of a different era. One where elves had ruled an empire and the great warriors of old fought with a strength of magic only a few living elves could match.

Pip stepped off the road, standing at the fringe of a cluster of humans who were also gaping at Ellonahshinel. The men wore fine bowlers, trim jackets, and polished shoes while the women trailed long skirts over generous bustles in the back with pristine, frilled blouses. One man was in the process of setting up photography equipment, proclaiming in Escarlish about the light in between trying to cajole one of the elven guards to take a step to the right so that he would be perfectly in the frame next to Ellonahshinel.

Pip stood on her tiptoes to better peer over the sapling fence, which must have been designed with elven height in mind rather than a short half-dwarf.

"This is even more magnificent on the ground than it was from the airship." One of the ladies waved toward Ellonahshinel.

"It was quite the experience as the airship drifted down to the dock and the trees closed over us, wasn't it?" Another lady frantically fanned herself, as if she hadn't quite recovered her nerves. "It was like the forest was swallowing us whole."

A movement on the long sweeping staircase that spiraled down the side of Ellonahshinel's trunk caught Pip's eye.

Two male elves strode down the steps, their bearing tall and regal. The one on the left wore a thin crown on his black hair, his tunic a dark green emblazoned with a silver oak tree. He could only be King Weylind of the elves.

The elf on the right, though…Pip's heart beat in her ears, and she had to press her hands over her mouth to stop her squeal. It was Prince Farrendel Laesornysh. The Prince Farrendel Laesornysh. Co-inventor of the magical power cell and a hundred different devices that were powered with his magic. Her childhood hero—well, he was still her hero—was right over there.

"Oh, I say. Is that the elf king?" One of the men pointed in that direction.

The women burst into a flurry of murmuring and squeals as they crowded the fence, trying to get a glimpse. The man with the camera yelped, barking at them to move out of his shot even as he dove beneath the hood and fiddled to focus his lens.

All the commotion drew the elf king's gaze in their direction. He lifted his hand in a single, regal wave before he continued his conversation with his brother.

Prince Farrendel glanced in their direction, just the briefest flash of movement, before he ducked his head. Moments later, he and the king turned a corner of the staircase and were hidden from sight.

"Oh, and they're gone. Bother." The lady fluttered her fan before her face despite the early spring chill. "Tell me you at least got a picture, Gerald."

"I'm not sure how it will turn out since all of you kept crowding my shot." The man, Gerald, disentangled himself from the hood of his camera and glared at the rest of the tourists.

One of the other men glanced in Pip's direction, his brow furrowing. "Miss, are you all right?"

The women turned to Pip, and the fan lady bustled closer and waved her fan vigorously in front of Pip's face. "Dear me, you look like you are about to faint. Are you feeling quite the thing?"

Another reached into her reticule. "I have smelling salts."

"Gerald, fetch that bench for the poor girl." Another of the women flapped her hand at Gerald.

Pip's entire body was petrified with hero-worship overload, her breath seizing in her chest, her joints cramping.

Gerald placed a wooden bench behind her. The fan lady firmly pressed on Pip's shoulders, shoving her to sit on the bench.

With a great effort, Pip blinked, then shook herself. Her breath whooshed out, then she gasped in a breath of the fresh, forest-scented air.

"There, there." The fan lady returned to setting up a breeze. "That was quite the spell that came over you."

Pip flushed, her face burning. She wasn't about to explain that she had hero-worshipped herself into shock. "That was my first time seeing Weylind Daresheni."

While that was technically true, it wasn't the reason for her temporary paralysis. But saying it was far less embarrassing than explaining the truth.

The lady perked up, likely catching Pip's use of the king's elven title. "Oh, you're an elf? I should have guessed. You have the pointed ears. But I have never seen an elf so…"

"So vertically challenged?" Pip gave a wry laugh and pushed herself to her feet, stepping out of fanning range. "I'm half elf and half dwarf."

"Ooh, I've never met a dwarf before! Much less a half-dwarf!" The woman beckoned to her. "Come. We simply must have a picture with you. Please? Gerald, get back behind your camera."

As Gerald scurried to return to his camera, the ladies herded Pip into the center of their cluster.

Pip didn't try to resist, still in a bit of shock over the glimpse of Prince Farrendel. Not to mention that she'd never had anyone ask to take her picture, as if she was someone famous instead of a nobody half-dwarf from the far edge of Tarenhiel.

Once the shutter clicked, and they held their pose for the required amount of time, Pip extracted herself from the huddle and said her farewells to the tourists. They wished her well and gave her a whole list of shops, stores, cafés, and soda parlors to check out in Bridgetown while she was there.

Pip returned to the train station with plenty of time to collect her things from the locker, see them loaded onto the baggage car, and board the passenger car, settling down for the trip to Bridgetown.

The train nearedBridgetown in late evening, the lights of the sprawling city reflecting on the rippling waters of the Hydalla River.

Pip twisted in her seat, all but pressing her face to the glass to catch a glimpse of the city ahead. Lights twinkled along either side of the Alliance Bridge. The train swerved around the bulk of Calafaren, heading a hint west before turning south again.

The train glided to a halt next to the moss-covered, tree-shaded platform at the far side of Calafaren. Most of the elves stood, making their way to the doors to disembark.

Pip remained where she was, peering through the reflection on the windows to take in what she could of Calafaren's quiet pathways. Perhaps she'd have the chance to better explore Calafaren and Bridgetown if those in the Mechanics Auxiliaries were allowed to leave the base.

Once the others had left, a trickle of new passengers climbed on board. One elf took a seat at the far end of the car while a troll family—their gray skin and white hair a contrast to the other passengers—found seats across from Pip. She smiled at the family and nodded her head to a little girl, who shyly tucked her face against her mother.

A few humans wearily clambered on board as well, talking in voices that punctuated the quiet that had filled the train car for most of the trip.

As the doors shut once again, the train car shuddered, a clunking, grinding noise coming from outside.

"What is that?" The little troll girl tucked herself closer to her mother.

"They are lowering the iron wheels for the trip under the river into Escarland." The troll mother patted her daughter's head.

This was one of the few trains in Tarenhiel designed like this, to run on both Escarlish iron and Tarenhieli root rails. Pip had heard all three kings had private trains that could travel over both systems, as did Prince Farrendel and his family.

With a final clunk and screech, the whole train car lifted slightly, settling onto the iron rails instead of the root rails. When the train eased into motion again, it was with the familiar clack of iron wheels on iron rails that Pip had grown up hearing as a constant background to her life at the far western rail hub.

As the train picked up speed, it swerved away from the lights of Calafaren before it straightened out to face the river once again.

There was a dropping feeling in the pit of Pip's stomach, then darkness swallowed them as the train plunged underground.

The few elves in the passenger car around Pip stiffened. One even rubbed at his temples. Being underground was difficult on an elf. Many of them even had physical symptoms, such as headaches, if they were surrounded by too much stone, like the stone tunnel that currently provided passage for their train beneath the Hydalla River.

It was that sensitivity to being underground and surrounded by stone that prompted her mother to move to Tarenhiel when she fell in love with Dacha rather than Dacha move to the dwarven mountains. While her mother was often scorned by some among the elves, she wasn't in physical pain living among the trees. Dacha would have withered and died if he'd been the one to move.

Unlike the elves around her, Pip peered out the windows, trying to take in as much of the tunnel as she could as it flashed past the windows. A few blue elven lights were spaced along the sides, providing some illumination for the rock walls.

If she could have, Pip would have asked the train conductor to stop so she could get out and inspect the troll workmanship that went into carving the tunnel into bedrock beneath the river. A few glints of the troll magic still remained, glittering gray in the walls. It would have been fascinating to compare it to the dwarven stone construction she was familiar with from visits with her grandparents.

Across the way, the troll girl was peering through the windows with a similar wonder.

Then the train rose again, bursting into evening daylight on the other side of the Hydalla River and into a bustling city that was a sharp contrast from the peaceful, tourist retreat on the northern side.

Here, brick and stone buildings rose into the sky alongside the blocks of straight, asphalt or stone paved streets. Even more newfangled automobiles rumbled back and forth along the roads than there had been the last time she had visited Escarland, their shiny chrome fenders reflecting the streetlights. Horse-drawn carriages clogged the streets between the automobiles while bicyclists wove in and out of the traffic, nearly running over the pedestrians that choked the walks on either side even at this time of night.

Pip pressed her face to the glass, but she couldn't spot the Outpost Museum between the other buildings. Too bad she didn't have time to tour the museum tonight or before she reported to Fort Linder in the morning. Visiting that museum was on the top of her list of things she wanted to see if she had the chance. She, sadly, hadn't spent enough time in Bridgetown during her days at Hanford University to visit back then.

The train's air brakes hissed while the wheels squealed against the rails. With a few jolting shudders, the train ground to a halt at the station in Bridgetown.

Pip gathered her things, but she waited for the other passengers to disembark first. At her diminutive height, she'd just end up taking an elbow or two to the face. Unless she had someone taller and larger to shove a path, it just wasn't worth it.

Once the car had nearly cleared out, she headed for the door and climbed down the two stairs onto the wooden platform. A wooden porch roof strung with lights sheltered the platform while the building beyond held ticket offices, a communications hub, and waiting rooms.

Pip strode the length of the platform toward the baggage car. She had to duck one man's elbow and dodge out of a troll's way. The troll hadn't even been looking down, and he would have plowed her over if she hadn't moved.

Once she reached the baggage car, she waited in the line until it was her turn to present her carved wooden token to the attendant. She pointed out her bag, and the attendant went to fetch it. As soon as he picked it up, he grunted at the weight. After checking that the leather tag matched the token, he unclipped the tag to reuse both it and the token before he handed the bag over. "Can you carry this, miss? It's heavy. A porter can help you transport it to your destination."

Pip resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Just because she was a pipsqueak didn't mean she wasn't strong.

"It's not that heavy." She hefted the bag easily enough. Sure, it was on the heavy side. She didn't know what kind of tools the army would provide the mechanics, and she'd rather have her own tools anyway. She didn't go anywhere without her favorite wrench.

Bag in one hand and her smaller pack on her back, Pip drew in a deep breath and joined the flow of people from the train station onto the streets of Bridgetown, which were busy even at this time of night.

Just past the train station, she had to worm her way through a crowd pouring out of a cinema. The posters on the front of the building proclaimed showings of the hit multi-reel film Star Forest and the Castle of Doom, complete with images of Tenian Daefiel, the elf who played Star Forest, giving that come hither smolder while his shirt seemed to lack any kind of buttons or laces. His leading lady draped in a swoon in his arms.

Neither the books nor the films were as questionable as the marketing posters made them appear, though the film version had reduced the leading lady to a swooning, too-silly-to-survive-more-than-two-seconds-on-her-own maiden who only existed for the elf hero to save her. The books were, of course, far superior.

As the streets were so well lit and busy, Pip felt perfectly safe, even as a tiny woman all alone in a strange city. She still kept her eyes peeled and her bag close.

Not that she had to fear much. She could shield herself with her magic, and the wrench in her bag also made a good defensive weapon if she needed it.

Well, she was here. All she needed to do now was find a room for the night, then report to Fort Linder in the morning.

Yet a strange emptiness filled her, despite the lively bustle surrounding her.

It was the same hollowness that had filled her when she'd put her things in the tiny room of the boarding house in Aldon her first year at Hanford University. At least then, she'd had the burning desire of her dreams to fuel her through the loneliness and long nights.

What was she doing here? There was still a burning inside her, but she didn't have a dream to direct it toward just yet.

Hopefully this experience would give her direction. Otherwise, this had all been a huge mistake.