“You’re obviously no stranger to being stubborn yourself, sir.” She shot back. “Why won’t you sell me a ticket?”

The only valid conclusion she could arrive to was that this man was in fact satisfied with playing the cryptic role Sorrel Wood had foisted on him. Siara would have wondered if her father had a hand in this, but her father was the last person in Cress who would ever willingly come in contact with a Catenary. In other words, it was highly unlikely.

The smirk that was pasted on the Stationmaster face wasn’t budging; in fact, Siara’s words seemed to amuse him somehow. “I already told you why I can’t sell you a ticket.”

Maybe his hat would soften the blow? 

It was rude to hit people over the head, but Siara was feeling the urge coming on. She never thought of herself as a good judge of character, but to her dismay the man didn’t seem to want to relent anytime soon.

Filled with conviction and no slight amount of annoyance, she suddenly dived into her suitcase. The Stationmaster’s finely adorned epaulettes shook as his shoulders jumped. With a loud whack! Siara slammed a little packet on the counter. This was one of her “secret weapons”, meant to be used if this exchange didn’t go according to plan. Instead of placing it down in a charming and businesslike way, however, the emotions brewing inside her had made her careless.

Oh no… 

The slice of pecan pie, the same kind that she had baked for Sam, had probably not survived her death-dealing blow. Siara slowly lifted her hand, and underneath her hovering palm was something on the counter that, if you squinted hard enough, still resembled a pie. 

Another icy, sparrow-deviating breeze passed through the platform, and the smell of pecans and butter wafted through the weighty air that had settled between them.

“…This is?”

“A deal!” She blurted out.

Siara’s ears felt so hot, and she hoped he would fail to notice how red they’d probably gotten.
Willing away the fluster that had bloomed in her chest, she vigorously rubbed at her greasy palm with her fingers to spare Sam’s clothes from any oil stains. All the while her gaze was pinned on the counter, not daring to look up into those jade-green eyes.

The Stationmaster was also looking at the counter, staring at the miserable shape. Without withdrawing his attention from the proffered pastry, he corrected her.

“You mean a bribe?”

Siara frowned. “Why do you have to put it that way?”

“I’m not wrong, am I?”

“If this will make you sell me a ticket…” Siara ventured, “Then I’ll admit that I’ve stooped low enough to bribe.”

Ugh.

That word didn’t leave a good taste in her mouth, but she felt like she would get nowhere if she didn’t just cut to the chase. Bribing isn’t even the worse of it. Siara pushed the thought away, the one where she snuck onto the train unnoticed without buying a ticket at all. It would save her from spending precious funds — the very concept that had driven her to bribe with food, and not with money.

The Stationmaster’s smirk turned into something wistful. He pushed the little package to one side with a large hand and muttered, “I’m not surprised.”

Confused, Siara bobbed her head to one side like the long dark grasses blowing in the wind around them.

“What does that mean?” She asked.

A short moment passed before he spoke again, but it wasn’t to answer her question. 

“How about we do make a deal, then?”

Suddenly, the sound of his rustling filled the air as he planted his forearms on the counter and leaned forward, causing Siara to step back in surprise. Head now peering out from the confines the booth and enveloped by the light of the lamp overhead, the Stationmaster seemed to adopt a different air about him.

“If you board the train and manage to leave Sorrel Wood, then that’s that. I won’t even sell you a ticket. You can just get on and go.”

Siara’s fingers fidgeted around the handle of her suitcase as she listened to him.

What is he…?

“If, on the other hand, you cannot leave this place,” His face grew serious and his lips drew into a thin line before saying his next words: “You’ll work at this station.”

Siara blinked. She was on the verge of being unable to process anything he had said, much like a machine that was malfunctioning.

Wait, what!?

“Work?” She parroted, as though she’d never heard the word before.

“Yes, work.”

“At this station? Me?”

“Maybe that’ll make you rethink things.” Lowering his eyes pointedly, the Stationmaster settled back into his booth and only left behind his large hands on the counter between them. 

Siara couldn’t help but stare at him, dumbfounded. Bringing a pie as a bargaining chip was one very absurd thing, she knew. But offering work in lieu of a ticket? That took the cake, so to speak.

The Stationmaster watched her quietly as the cogs whirred in her head, kicking up a storm. Unpleasant feelings were beginning to fret and fuss deep inside her chest.

What’s he up to?

No matter how much she searched his face, he gave nothing away. If anything was obvious, it was the fact that he was deterring her from boarding the train. But if he had been willing to let her do so after all, why go through all this nonsense?

Calm down, Siara. Think about it properly! 

When faced with certain situations, she knew she could make rash, hot-headed decisions, often earning herself the title of bold from her maids and dumb from Sam, her footman. Lilia, her personal maid, never picked a word for herself, but Siara often caught the girl’s quiet gaze agreeing with Sam.

If she boarded the train, she logically wouldn’t end up back in Sorrel Wood. The tracks were straight, not looped, as she’d seen on the many maps of Sorrel Wood, new and old. If by some mystery or miracle she managed to fail her departure, though…

I’d still be able to avoid the trip and the marriage.

Not only that, but earn a wage. Siara had borrowed some money from her father’s not-so-secret desk compartment to help her on the first leg of her escapade, but she knew that would only cover a small portion of her escapade. As irresponsible as it was, she knew, she had decided to sort out financial strifes as they came. Hopefully, with the help of an aunt she could visit once she got out of Sorrel Wood, though she suspected she would have to pray to the gods to have her aunt side with her on the matter of running away.

“Well?”

The Stationmater’s deep voice cut through her inner monologue, causing Siara to look up from the counter she had been vacantly staring at. Those beautiful jade-green eyes she was reflected in were awfully calm, she realized with some annoyance.

If not now, then when?

Siara suddenly thought back to the words she had repeated to herself over and over again in the days leading up to this one. If she didn’t do something to change the course of her life, she’d end up on a three day carriage ride riddled with motion sickness to marry a man she barely knew.

“Fine.”

The word abruptly shot out of her mouth. The Stationmaster’s arms slowly slipped down to his sides, and his brows creased slightly. His stare was so intense, it was a though he could see right through her.

“I agree to your deal.” Siara declared.

Then she squeezed the leather handle of her suitcase as tight as she could. A strange feeling nestled itself in her chest, and gnawed, gnawed, gnawed…