The steam from the locomotive cast a hazy veil over the platform, which was busy despite the odd hour. People in top hats and waistcoats, or voluminous dresses and feathered hats, bustle past in every direction. The scene is a riot of color and movement; the bright hues of the women’s dresses and the dark, muted tones of the men’s suits blending together in a mesmerizing dance.

Beyond them was the suspension rail. Unlike the city trolleys — which rode on a track inlaid into the road — the locomotive rode underneath its track. Without fear of weather or traffic blocking the tracks, it was so efficient that people boasted you could tell the time by the arrival and departure of trains.

Ellamae could see a series of tubes on the locomotive engine side that glowed with the same energy that powered glowcells. It was a power source that Aldwin and his co-workers were responsible for; spending hours transferring what little magic they had into the factory machines, and yet she knew her brother would be thrilled by the technology of it.

She, on the other hand, could not help but feel a tainted by bitterness as she watched the wealthy all around her; enjoying the luxury of the train powered off the struggling lives of others.

‘Perhaps I could remember enough of it for a letter.’

Ellamae had no idea what words could describe the mechanics of what she was looking at, but she moved to take in every detail of the engine. As such, she squashed her nose right into the back of another person. The woman stumbled forward a step, and the huge arrangement of powder-blue hair on her head waved like a puff of candy-floss in a sudden wind.

“Well, I never!” The blue-puff woman snarled, swirling her heels and glaring down at Ellamae. “You need to watch where you are going! What if I had been hurt? What then?”

Ellamae meekly lowered her head in apology. They expected the tilt for someone of her class, but it also hid her features under the newsie cap her hair was crammed into. “I apologize, ma’am. This is my first time on a platform, and I am feelin' overwhelmed.”

“First time here, you say? Well, you certainly do not look like you could afford to be here yourself. Who are you here with? Where is your guardian? I would like to speak with them.”

That was not an unreasonable question, but Ellamae realized that she didn't know the answer. Fionntan Ward was nowhere to be seen in the sea of faces.

It took only a few steps into the crowd, and she had already lost him.

'Maybe I should leave,' she mused, but whatever amusement that thought brought was ruined by what the woman did next.

“I asked you a question!” Blue-puff snapped, jabbing Ellamae in the shoulder with her white-gloved finger.

Familiar burning anger lit up to protect her as Ellamae stared at the finger.

It would be oh so easy to break.

‘Just grab, and bend it back.’

Her fingers twitched eagerly.

“If you cannot produce someone, I will have no choice but to assume you stole your ticket to be here and call for assistance. Do you want that? Do you want me to scream for police? No, I bet you do not. So, one last time, where is your guardian?”

“That would be me,” Fionntan Ward’s voice said as a blur of dazzling white stepped between them. He leaned on his cane; his body positioned so squarely in front of Ellamae that she had to lean to see around his dark frock coat. "My apologies, ma'am. Has something happened with my ward? If so, I will take full responsibility."

The woman’s eyes were wide with her rage, but not for long. As soon as she took note of the patch on his shoulder, fear whitened her face and she edged back; as if the spot she had been in was now risking contamination.

“N-no,” blue-puff stammered. “No, just see to it that it doesn’t happen again.”

She spun on her heels and flounced away, her large pool of skirts swishing behind her.

Fionntan shot Ellamae an irritated glance.

"It was an accident," Ellamae said.

His hand landed between her shoulder blades, urging her forward with a firm push.

The platform continued to buzz with activity, announcements echoing overhead. The steam train hissed like an over-sized tea kettle.

"I barely even bumped her," Ellamae snapped as they maneuvered around families saying their goodbyes.

"I never said you did. However, it never would have happened at all if you were with me, like you are supposed to be at all times."

"Can you blame me for losing you? You're practically dressed the same as the rest of this lot; all dress shoes and top hats. I might as well 'ave been looking for a single sheep in a running herd."

He leaned in and said in a hush tone only just able to make it over the crowds; “I thought you might have run."

‘I thought about it.’

“The train distracted me,” she explained. “I thought I might try to remember it to put in a letter for my brother. ”

His eyes looked at her for no more than a moment, and his mouth pressed into a thin line, but he said nothing. No words were necessary, because the message was very clear to her; Aldwin might not want to hear from her.

The surrounding people seemed to grow tenfold; all looming forms blurring past at unimaginable speeds.

There had been countless times Ellamae begged the police to let her talk to her brother, but they always refused. What if the reason was that it was Aldwin who had not wanted to...?

Within the mud of the alley, her brother looked at her with the expression of someone staring at a monster. On others, it was ignorable. On him, it was a weapon that cut cold pain into her chest with the ease of a knife.

“This is us,” Fionntan announced.

Far down the line, trailing only the caboose, stood a train car that starkly contrasted with the others. While the rest were lavishly adorned with vibrant wallpapers and scarlet curtains, this one consisted of plain wooden panels and a wall adorned with medical supplies.

In a remote corner, a silver-lined cell barely wide enough to sit in caught Ellamae's eye, briefly stirring a sense of panic. However, Fionntan guided them past it.

Entering one of the three unoccupied compartments, he gracefully placed his briefcase and cane on the shelf above the bench, then relaxed with a relieved sigh, closing his eyes.

“Close the door and sit down,” Fionntan instructed without looking to see if she complied.

Hesitantly, she did so, sliding the door shut and clicking the lock.

As she sat down, Ellamae had to stop her hands from reaching out to gather skirts that were not there. The trousers felt strange as she sank into the cushions. She didn't even have to worry about rearranging fabric for modesty reasons.

The stranger across from her remained silent, and when the train suddenly lurched forward, Ellamae gasped and clutched her seat.

As the platform with its bustling crowd slid out of view, the city of Sheeglen came into sight, still shrouded in the dark cloak of night. Perched on a sea cliff, the walled city appeared majestic. Ellamae strained her eyes but couldn't spot the stairs leading to her sea-level neighborhood.

In an instant, the train gained speed, leaving Sheeglen behind and venturing into rolling farmland.

New clothes, unfamiliar scenery, unusual transportation, and a seat with cushions more comfortable than any bed she could remember. All of this was enough to leave her head spinning, but it was only the beginning. She had tested positive for magic, witnessed a murder, and her life with her brother was... gone.

The shock that settled over Ellamae plunged her into silence.

Eventually, Fionntan — seeming content with ignoring her — roused and brought out a book, but he didn't bother to adjust the dim lamp suspended above them. Instead, raised bumps on the page awaited his touch to glide across.

As he delved into the text, Ellamae rested her head on the cool glass and watched distant twinkling lights speeding past, resembling shooting stars. With every passing moment, she felt herself growing further and further from the life she once knew.

Time allowed her overwhelming fatigue to dissolve into a deep pool of exhaustion, and her eyelids grew heavy.

Ellamae hadn't even realized she had fallen asleep until a strange tingling feeling sent goosebumps prickling across her flesh jolted her awake. On her feet before her eyes had fully fluttered open, Ellamae frantically looked for the source of danger she knew was there.

The room remained unchanged, yet Ellamae's heart pounded.

‘Run.’

Fionntan halted his page-turn, fixing his gaze on her.

The train glided smoothly.

Her breath quickened, like she was in a frantic race.

‘Escape!’

The world closed in.

‘HIDE!’

The book snapped shut and was promptly discarded on the bench beside Fionntan. "Ms. Holt, it seems you may be experiencing a panic attack, but you can overcome this. Look at me. Good. Now, try to breathe with me. Take a deep—"

That's when she smelled it—a floral scent mixed with moss. Ellamae had encountered that scent before, but not here. It was from a place that couldn't exist.

‘It's too late now.’

Tearing her eyes away from Fionntan felt like breaking free from an anchor she desperately clung to, but dread compelled her to glance out the window just in time to witness the destruction.

A bolt of lightning crashed from the sky, but it didn't diminish. Instead, it lingered at the point of impact, expanding like a crack in stone.

As if seeking to contain it, a purple smoke rushed in and engulfed the spectacle.

Lightning and smoke swirled and thrashed, interweaving and compressing into a tightly wound ball of pulsing energy.

Then it exploded.

It radiated outward in a formidable wave, toppling trees and reducing houses to rubble.

Fionntan swore and grabbed her arm.

She was wrenched to the floor as the blast tore the train apart.

Suspension Railway

The trains run on a suspension railway, which means the track is high up, and above the train rather than under it.

This train engine design was based on the designs by Raymond Loewy, specifically the PRR S1