Page 49 of Voidwalker (Beasts of the Void #1)
He yanked his hand out of hers. Then vanished.
Static pricked Fi’s tongue as he reappeared beside her, still with a wobble, but better poise than his first attempt.
“Fi. I can teleport ,” he reminded her blandly.
Her cheeks lit on fire. She pulled herself into a more stable perch atop the train, hissing as she shook out aching fingers.
“Of course,” she said. “I know that. Just got caught up in the moment was all.”
Antal studied her with face pinched. Then, a slow-spreading smirk.
“Were you worried about me?” he asked.
“No.”
“Were you trying to save me?”
“Why would I ever do something stupid like that?”
Fi blocked out his shit-eating grin and moved to the top hatch of the train car.
With the silver flash of an energy dagger, she pried open the lock, then she and Antal dropped into the dark interior.
The walls rattled, metal rumbling over rails.
She pressed a panel to activate overhead lights, illuminating a load of conductive metal sheets wound into massive coils for transport.
Not the side of a heist Fi was used to running, but she saw the thrill of it.
Fortunately, base metal didn’t require a security detail.
The greater challenge was getting a few coils off the train, but this was where Fi’s plan came in.
A scheme so brilliant, Antal and Boden had both gawked at her during the proposal: Boden in abject horror, Antal with a gleam Fi had devoured like candy.
She and Antal moved into position at the back of the car.
A clack clack sounded from the wheels, louder than the normal din.
Any passengers in the cars ahead would probably discount the noise, but Fi noted her signal, grooves carved onto the rail line during their heist preparation.
She braced her hands against a metal coil and readied a pulse of energy, carving heat from her forearms.
At the front of the car, a Curtain appeared.
It shouldn’t have been there, nor anywhere close to the tracks.
Fi spent the last few days cutting strategic openings for the train to pass through, invisible to normal passengers.
As the train barreled forward, the Curtain flew toward them.
Fi and Antal shoved a current of energy into the conductive metal coil then reeled back.
Cold raked over her as the Curtain passed, leaving her on the Plane.
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, little chips of gold Fi snatched up and coveted for reasons she didn’t care to talk about.
Another clack . 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 more trouble. 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.