Steam exhausted from the train's undercarriage as it came to a halt. Above, a seven-story glass ceiling allowed the station to fill with natural light. Everyone was surprisingly orderly, an observation that perplexed Silas given the thousands of people that must have crowded the space. There would undoubtedly have been more disorder among the people of the Outer Ring. But the station patrons were just as posh as the rest of the country; go figure. 

In an effort not to draw attention, Silas wore a Carpathian-style coat over his usual thief's attire. Thick, tan fabric draped over him like a loose-fit blanket. It was heavy and difficult to move in. He would be glad to shed it off him once they boarded. 

For now, he stood beside a young man. The very same who stood guard outside his room, Fynn Grimes. 

Towering over all of them was the brother of the Healer that saved his life. Quiet, he was a man of few words. Silas came to learn he was named Emery Adkin. 

The final member of their group shared most of the same facial characteristics as Emery. Though, he was shorter, noticeably so. And his blonde hair had a slight hint of red. Brothers, presumably, though it was difficult to tell as neither acknowledged the other.

"Monroe Adkin," The man had briefly stated right before getting into the automobile that escorted them to the station. It was the only thing he had to say, remaining mute the rest of the way. In fact, the trip would have been entirely silent had it not been for Fynn's never-ending stories. 

Barely eighteen, Fynn learned under the Vazeer, Nadia Adkin. He was the youngest of four children, two brothers, and a sister. He never really knew his mother, who died during childbirth, but his father was a proud military general. Under strict order, their father began rigorous training when they were only four. Most Carpathian children didn't even start connecting with magic until they were eight.  

Apparently, Fynn's magic had awoken when he was only three. He was the youngest Healer in the Sixth Division, only one division behind a Vazeer, and the highest-ranking mage of his siblings. Experiencing some of the harshest war zones, he aided soldiers on the front lines. However, despite all those achievements, his father never once congratulated him. 

Silas learned all of that in a couple of hours on the ride to the station. 

He had never been in a horseless carriage before. It was an experience exclusive to only the elite of Ezterra and the people of Carpathia. But he hadn't the time to enjoy a single bit of it, hands cuffed together, listening to Fynn sharing every childhood detail. 

A high-pitched whistle hissed like a forlorn cry throughout the station, returning Silas from his thoughts. People stepped into the train in a single file line, presenting their rectangular sheets of paper for a stamp. The station's emblem was printed in gold in the top corner of the sheet. And while Silas's ticket, which Monroe generously held on to, was the same as the rest of the Carpathian citizens, the three soldiers held square ones. 

Upon seeing these square pieces of paper, all four men were escorted to one of the back train cars in a private compartment. It was pretty spacious, allowing only enough room for a shoulder-width hallway. They slid the doors open and took their seats, stuffing the luggage on the metal shelves above. 

Once Monroe closed the curtains on the compartment's hallway window, Silas gladly returned Emery's jacket. 

Metal shrieked loudly as the coupling rods rotated the wheels, a steady chug growing more vociferous as the train accelerated.  

It felt bizarre, the movement of the train. Much like the vehicle, Silas had never ridden in a train either. Bumpy, like a carriage ride, but faster. A lot faster. The seats were far more comfortable than anything he'd ever sat on. Second only to the bed that he slept in at the palace. Padded like an extravagant couch, their private compartment was more like a moving parlor. 

"Master Arx has debriefed everyone individually, correct?" Monroe began. The Vazeer laid out a scroll on the table in front of them. It was a detailed map of the Western Hemisphere. 

Litis was smaller than Carpathia, located at its left. To the right, separated by the Boltic Sea, was Ezterra. And below that, very small, was Cres Isle. Drawn from the palace symbol in the near center of Carpathia, a line connected to a smaller dot labeled 'Davin Port Harbor.' 

Now that Silas knew just how far inland the palace was, he grew more certain he never would have made it to the sea. Even if he could, he had no doubt that either Pyra had taken their only boat or the crew Silas hired left of their own volition when he didn't show.

"We will take the train to Ceadercayne and spend the night." Monroe's finger traced the line, stopping about halfway with a tap. Continuing down the route, he added, "If all goes well, we should arrive in Davinport in nine days. From there, a ship will take us to Ezterra. Once we leave Carpathia, there will be little the King can do to help us." Monroe looked at Silas, his glare lingering. "I assume you have a plan to find the girl."

Silas nodded but didn't otherwise specify.

"Care to share with the group?" 

"I found her once before; I'll do it again." Silas didn't want to admit this, but it would be more complicated this time around.

Pyra had essentially volunteered herself. When Lady Balvine gave him the job, he knew he needed a map. A good rule of thumb was to know more than required. So, he asked around his circles for anyone who knew Marx Duke's mansion inside and out. That was when Pyra found him. Unable to draw him a map accurately, he reluctantly agreed to bring her along. Though her age made him uneasy. 

Seventeen was a challenging age to work with. Despite Silas's pickpocketing success beginning as early as eight, he didn't trust others, especially children. Had he known about the onyx, he never would have brought her. 

She planned to kill me from the beginning, which was all Silas could presume after all that had happened. 

Judging by Monroe's clenched jaw and stony stare, he didn't like that answer. But he skipped over the question to address the other two. "Our orders are to find the origin of the stones." His glare turned to Emery. "You. You're here only to archive our findings on the stone and its magic. Do not get in our way."