He awoke to his bed rattling.

  With a thought, flame spread to his ears, and his hearing returned just as a shout pierced his head.He vaulted off the bed as the Blinking Blade burned into his hand. The workers and hunters, rudely awoken, looked around in confusion.

  The hunter named Gulner was pointing toward the door.

  “Gulschak's! They're hacking down the door, don't you hear them?” he shouted.

  But Wretch heard nothing. Only the creak of bunks and the shuffling of the newly awoken crew. They all looked at each other. Another hunter from Dalynja’s crew, the tall, broad-shouldered defender, walked up to his colleague and whispered something in his ear.

  Gulner turned to them with wide eyes.

  “I heard them, cursing and taunting me,” he said with a shudder.

  “We hear nothing, Gulner,” his comrade answered. “It’s an illusion. A trick the fog is playing on us.”

  The room grew still. Wretch sighed and lay back down on the stiff bed, trying to drift back to the waiting grasp of his recurring nightmares.

  We're hunters, we're even Blessed. Can't afford to be skittish.

  The noise of the train died down, odd whispers and murmurs between the crewmen. Unless that was a trick too. Through the metal wall to his left, the sound of feet stepping on grass slithered into his consciousness. He could make out four, maybe five pairs of heavy steps. He sighed and turned to the side. Above him, he heard Astrid toss and turn.

  “You can’t sleep?” he whispered. “This is real, by the way.”

  “Too much noise,” Astrid answered.

  “Yeah, I’m hearing footsteps. It’s annoying,” Wretch said, looking up at the underside of the bunk above.

  Slowly, Astrid’s pale face slid into view. Her eyes were wide, lips pressed shut.

  “I hear footsteps too,” she said.

  Wretch blinked. “They're real, then?”

  She nodded.

  He rolled off the bed with twitching claws, sneaking up to Edmund, who lay with his eyes closed.

  “Captain,” he whispered. “Footsteps outside. Both me and Astrid can hear them.”

  The captain didn’t respond, breathing easily.

  Oh. Right.

  Wretch put a hand on Edmund’s shoulder and his eyes shot open. Wretch repeated himself. Edmund's brow furrowed and he gave a nod, then swung off the bed in haste. He pressed an ear to the metal wall, then met Wretch’s gaze with a grim look.

  The captain shook Dalynja awake while Wretch roused Elenya back into consciousness.

  “Any suggestions?” Dalynja whispered a moment later, hastily fastening her gear.

  “Wake the crew,” Edmund said. “Fire up the engine, in case we have to reverse. Then we take the fight. If they break the rail behind us, we’re done.”

  Dalynja nodded to her hunters.

  “Move. Double pace.”

  The train came alive in silent urgency. Elenya pulled on her warrior skirt and armor, knuckles white on the halberd’s grip. Wretch jumped up and down, limbering his shoulders and knees.

  “Finally,” Elenya said with a joyless smile. “Right, Ratty.”

  “Anything's better than waiting around,” he answered, strapping a gas-mask over his face.

  The steam engine roared to life, driving away the cold that seeped through the walls. The workers noticed the commotion and sat still on their beds, watching or hands clasped in desperate prayer.

  Edmund adjusted the straps of his mask, then gave Elenya a look.

  She flung open the door.

  Mist flooded inside like a milky tide, then she vanished into it. Wretch jumped after her, landing softly on the wet grass with raised blade and darting eyes. Elenya stood in the light from the open door, her feet obscured by fog so thick it roiled like water.

  The other hunters welled out. Edmund came up from behind them, followed by Dalynja’s massive dog and her crew. The canine's snout pulled back in a wicked snarl.

  “Where are they? Do you see them, son?” Edmund said through his air-filter.

  Wretch squinted. Their lamps flickered in the branches, almost swallowed by mist twice as thick as before.

  Then he saw them.

  Shapes in the treeline just beyond the glow. Human, or not quite. Their arms were too long, ending at the knees. Hunched, eyes reflecting the sparse slight like pairs of glowing orbs. They were watching them.

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  “Beyond the lamps,” Wretch said. “At least five. Human-like.”

  Dalynja’s dog gave a coarse growl.

  The figures moved, vanishing into the white background. One was slimmer than the rest.

  As they retreated, he realized why. It was wearing a blue overall. The kind the workers had worn but the fabric was stretched and torn.

  Not pulled on... more like…

  They melded back into the fog, leaving only a wisp of twirling white.

  “They left,” Wretch said, knuckles tightening around his weapon.

  “They fear us,” Dalynja muttered. “That’s good.”

  The night broke into a choir of howling laughs.

  A chill darted down Wretch’s spine.

  “You hear that too?” Elenya whispered.

  "Unfortunately, yes."

  “One of them was wearing blue overalls,” Wretch said.

  Edmund lowered his shield. “Victor. The missing worker. They got him, then.”

  “Yes, but it was too tight,” Wretch said through gritted teeth.

  “I think… that was Victor.”

  The group fell silent. Only the occasional shuffling from inside the train and the low hum of the steam engine remained.

  “By the Saint and all that is holy,” Astrid mumbled.

  “Captain,” Gulner said. “Let’s reverse out of here. This place is mad.”

  “Job ain’t finished,” Elenya said, towering over the man.

  “This place is beyond our capabilities,” Dalynja said. “The steam cannons are useless, and what are we? Just a few Firelings and Embers. That’s nothing out here.”

  “That is true,” Edmund said, turning back to the train. “But remember why we are here.”

  “Sternthal is cut off. The people there need us.”

  “We can call for a Blaze,” Gulner scoffed. “Let them deal with this.”

  “That’s the thinking that trapped us behind walls,” Wretch said. “Aren’t we hunters? They will find no weakness in me. I ain’t running.”

  Another moment of silence.

  “Back on the train,” Edmund said finally. “Me and Dalynja will decide our next move.”

  They climbed back into the spiked wagon. Most of the workers had awoken, sitting nervously on their bunks as the hunters returned.

  Only when the latch screeched into place, did some of the tension fade.

  A minute later, Edmund and Dalynja spoke in hushed voices by the light of the humming engine.

  From the shadows, a voice hissed.

  “You don’t have what it takes. No will. No strength. Too weak. I would have been happier if you never joined us.”

  Wretch turned to Elenya, still in her armored dress, inspecting her fingernails.

  “Damn voices,” he muttered.

  The captains nodded to each other, and Edmund walked back to the rest of Richter’s crew.

  “We are staying.”

  Astrid sighed while Elenya and Wretch nodded.

  Edmund looked between the red-haired girl and him. “I know you want to prove yourself, but let’s not get overconfident. We don’t know what we are dealing with.”

  Astrid tapped her fingers against the metal frame. “Do we have a plan?”

  “The suns rise in three hours,” Edmund said. “We get to work immediately. If all goes well, we finish by noon. Then we continue to Sternthal, completing the mission.”

  Edmund put a hand on Astrid’s shoulder as she slumped on the bed.

  “Sternthal is only an hour away. Forward is safer than back.”

  Astrid fiddled with her dress.

  “I was ready for things to be bad, but this…”

  “We will be fine,” Edmund continued. “Our group isn’t as great as Dalynja’s at tracking or at range. But in close combat? I reckon we’re the deadliest Fireling–Ember unit alive.”

  Astrid nodded.

  “Take it easy, sis,” Elenya said with a grimace. “We’re getting through this. Even if I have to carry you all the way back home.”

  “Get some rest,” Edmund said. “We’ll be free of this mist soon enough.”

  Wretch settled down again. The noises were frequent now. Whispers. Tapping on the metal wall. The sound of scurrying creatures beneath his bed. Twice he shot upright at illusory roars that rattled his skull. When Jakob, Dalynja’s fighter, shook him, he was already fully awake. He and Elenya were next up to guard the train.

  He gave the man a toothy grin, and Elenya delivered a deadly stare. They sat on two chairs by the dying engine.

  “What do you hear?” Wretch asked.

  “A battle,” Elenya said, leaning back with the halberd in her lap. “Just outside the walls. Screaming, struggling. You?”

  “Rats, whispers, and howling beasts. That sort of thing.”

  The orange light reflected in her eyes.

  “That letter. Are you going to read it?”

  “Maybe.”

  Boots tapped against the steel floor. Gulner walked over, drumming a finger against his crossbow. The weapon was beautiful, inlaid with brass and cogs for a reload mechanism, with an intricate sight of glass and metal.

  “Sorry about Jakob,” he said. “The oaf didn’t think it through. My apologies.”

  Elenya patted an empty barrel beside her. “I’ll forgive you if you tell me about that crossbow.”

  Gulner sat, twisting the weapon at different angles, letting them inspect it thoroughly.

  “Dalynja’s mother made it. She was a Blessed inventor.”

  Flame of ingenuity then, Wretch thought.

  “Is it Blessed? My weapon can switch locations,” he said, petting the Blinking Blade looped at his belt.

  “Yep!” Gulner replied with an excited nod. “Gives me sight like a hawk. But the downside—”

  His eyes flickered toward the corner.

  “Damn noise,” he sighed. “You two from Nov Yanosk?”

  “I am,” Wretch said with a nod. “First time outside the walls.”

  Gulner squinted at him, inspecting his claws and teeth, lingering on his black eyes.

  “You know you look terrifying, right?”

  Elenya gave a half-hearted smirk. “Wait until you see his Fireling Blessing. I’m from Yenvograd, by the way.”

  Wretch gave her a look. He knew Elenya’s Blessed name. Her true name.

  Butcher of Yenvograd.

  “Oh, an outer-city hunter. That’s nice,” Gulner said. “Never really cared for city folk. Did a lot of fishing, then?”

  “Everyone works with fishing down there. So you’re good at shooting or what?” Elenya asked, nodding to his weapon.

  Gulner gave a crude attempt at a one-eyed wink.

  “Yes, ma’am! Very good. Flame gave me two Blessings. Increased the speed of my shots and lets me steer them in the air. Took forever to master the last one.”

  “That’s useful,” Elenya said with a yawn.

  Wretch scratched at the scales on his neck, irritated by the damp fog.

  “You know, Blessed usually keep their powers to themselves.”

  Gulner shrugged. “Why not? We’re on the same team, right?”

  After two hours, the clock in the cramped cabin marked seven. Workers and hunters rose from their bunks, bags under their eyes. Once again, they burst out of the metal door, securing the perimeter.

  The train was untouched except for footprints stamped deep into the mud.

  “Like a dog’s paw crossed with a man’s foot,” Dalynja said after inspecting them.

  “Keep sharp,” Edmund said through his mask. “Soon we’ll be behind the walls of Sternthal.”

  The workers toiled with fervor, hauling metal and hammering without regard for the noise, while the hunters stood in pairs, watching the mist. The sounds pressed in on Wretch. Skittering claws and moaning whispers, pulsing through his senses like approaching footsteps.

  Am I going mad? Or is something coming closer?

  After six hours of gut-wrenching labor, a man drenched in sweat looked up with a curious expression.

  “Voja! We are almost done. Where are the bolts?” he asked out loud as Wretch and Edmund stood nearby.

  Wretch would have thought it a hallucination if the man’s mouth hadn’t moved.

  “Voja?” the man asked again.

  “I got a few extra,” another worker said, producing a few metal cylinders from his pocket, eyes darting nervously.

  A rustle came from the mist. Wretch ignored it with a mutter.

  Something whizzed through the fog.

  A worker fell.

  A spear jutting from his neck.

  Screams and laughter shook the mist.