"Flame you!"
-Heard by a chantless after number 2764
Grace studied the map Green had drawn, fingertip following the looping route. "You sure we need all these stops?"
Green swung his rifle across his back. "We might be fine right now, but a trip across the country will drain our funds fast. We'll have to restock every chance we get."
"Okey mister, "don't waist time thinking about your future."" Grace said.
"There's a difference between thinking and contemplating." Green replied, organizing his bullets in his bag.
"And what's that?"
"This doesn't look like resupply." Mark said, letting Green drop his conversation with Grace. "Looks like we're trying to shake a tail."
"We are." Green made his way back to the map and tapped the table with one knuckle. "The Conexe doesn't care that Bush is gone. He'll be replaced. What they will care about is the money he spent. And Careless?" He gestured toward the elf, who bowed politely, saying nothing. "She was one of his biggest purchases."
Mark frowned, and Green unrolled another map, pointing west. "We pass through five or six towns—Sobnark, Marshe, Orlar. Not clean. But clean routes are predictable."
Green then reached into his bag, pulled out a small lidded bowl, and proffered it to Grace.
Grace looked at it grimacly. "Do we have to?"
"Don't be a baby." Green replied, taking out another, and giving it to Mark, who took it without complaint.
"Cant we take the train this time?" Grace asked. "It's faster and we don't have to put on this… whatever it is."
Grace grimaced when she opened the lid, letting out a stench worse than rotting food.
"Borxt mucus," Green replied. "And it may be faster, but tickets aren't cheap. We'd need to run more hunts, and even then, it won't cover the whole trip."
"So what do you suggest?" Mark asked.
He hesitated. "On foot, if we forgo bounties, we might keep pace. But the train… the train buys us time." Time for Careless to see cities instead of endless plains, forests, and mountains. If he was going to let her see the outside, he would do it right.
Grace shut the bowl, setting it aside and started drumming her fingers. "Depends what supplies cost. If walking eats the same raches as tickets, might as well ride."
"I'm with Grace," Mark added. "Even if it's more, it'll save our strength. And I don't think our passenger here can walk hundreds of miles."
Green's eyes slid to Careless. She looked fragile—or maybe just tired.
"I don't mind walking," she said softly. Almost too soft to register.
"Problem is; the Conexe could infiltrate a train easily, but no sane person walks into the Septaroth forest on purpose." Green said. "I'd like to lose our tale as soon as possible."
Green looked to Grace, who was trying to mask her disgust and discomfort. Trying being the key word. Nevertheless, they didn't counter. Logically, there was nothing to counter with.
The Conexe was one of if not the largest non-governmental organization in the world. It was best to lose them in the forest. With any luck they'd be considered dead. The Conexe would likely find them again, but the longer they go without them in their way, the better.
Green sighed. "Train's the better option," he said. "Guess we'll cough up the raches. Think we can afford it?"
Grace smiled, inadvertently causing Mark to do so as well.
"If that's decided, we should move," Mark said. "There were a few men at the bondsman's office. They seemed a little too interested in us."
"Do anything?" Green asked.
Mark shook his head. "Couldn't be sure of their motives."
"Then let's not give them the time. Grace, Mark—tickets, bring the girl to. I'll get supplies." He counted out seven quarter-rache coins and handed them over.
They nodded and split at the square.
The station was a few miles out, so Green cut through the city first. Nurks immediately pressed in on him—tight alleys, rusted stalls, the stench of soot. Every corner seemed to hold a fight. Both verbal and physical.
He passed one boy getting beaten for stealing something. Green didn't stop, neither did anyone else. Not because they were heartless, but because stepping in could get the boy killed. Still, the weight of it sat in his gut.
His nose caught a whiff of another stench. Soot, rotting food, unwashed bodies, and many more mixed. If Orlar was the center of Navahownum, Nerks was its backside.
Most jobs here paid starvation wages, and most of those came with a death certificate. The streets weren't full of beggars because most had already been claimed for work. The ones left were either smart enough to dodge conscription—or too scared to move.
The train was Nurks's last mercy. Septaroth Forest made leaving on foot impossible. Steel rails were the only way out. Freedom—if you could afford it.
Green slipped through the crowd, people parting around him. Good. Kept soot off his coat, kept pickpockets visible. Not that many would try. A knife sat on his belt, pistols at both hips, a shotgun strapped to his leg, and the rifle on his back. He looked every inch the dangerous man he was.
Of course, the bits of miasma that leaked off him added to the discomfort he gave people.
Green breathed out sharply to get the stench out of his nose. He'd pitched Nurks to Grace and Mark himself. Big Conexe name, big payout, recognition. Fifty-six full raches. That was true—but not the whole truth.
He turned a corner and caught a shadow move in the corner of his eye.
Hand on his holster, he bolted.
Even carrying forty-four pounds of steel, Green moved with unnatural ease. Vaulted a crate. Skid through a narrow alley. Wall jumped to land on a slanted roof in three quick moves. At the top, he crouched, scanning.
One figure ducked behind an alleyway corner. Skittish. Not worth his time.
But across the street, another figure stood on a roof—a short man in black robes. Still. Calm. Like he'd been waiting.
Green narrowed his eyes. The figure was too short, its form too practiced. This was a Paipite. His blood ran cold.
They stared for minutes. Neither moved. Then the Paipite raised two fingers, tapped his forehead twice. Sheverish shi, A promise to kill.
He turned and leapt away.
Turning your back after making a threat? Green thought. He drew his pulx pistol and aimed. A Paipite wouldn't give an opponent so obvious an advantage. Meaning they either had others around, or they depended on Green knowing that, and not firing.
Green sighed, lowering his gun.
When he looked back down, the first man was peeking around a corner again. Not Conexe, Green guessed. Too sloppy.
He fired his twenty-two anyway. One clean shot to the hand. The man yelped and stumbled away. Warning given.
"Perhaps we should go through the forest," Green mumbled to himself.
He shook his head, he'd already given Grace the green light. Nevertheless, he prepared himself to be ambushed.
Thirty minutes later, Green reached the station with his arms full—food, ammo, and paper. Still no sign of the others.
Where are they? He thought.
"Green!"
He turned, spotting Grace, Mark, and a hooded Careless. Relief slipped out in an exhale. He had thought… but no. They wouldn't be so rash, not now at least.
"There you are," he said. "What took so long?"
"Had to cover our friend here," Grace said, nodding at Careless's cloak. "It didn't seem smart to parade an elf through Nurks."
Green nodded. Even hidden, her features would've drawn stares.
"Let's board. I ran into trouble earlier." Green scanned the station one last time, then got on.
"What's this called again?" Careless asked.
"A train," the man beside her said, smiling.
She liked him. He had a good aura. She smiled back nodding in thanks for the answer.
"What does it do?" she asked.
"It moves a lot of supplies from one town to another. If one place has a lot of something that another wants, they use a train to bring it to them. Trains also let people ride on them, so people don't have to walk so far."
"And we need a ticket?"
"Yup. Shows the authorities we paid."
"Why not let people on for free? If it's going anyway…"
"Because men like to charge for anything they control. And if rides were free, it'd be packed full.
Careless nodded, she looked back at the train, it was enormous. She had heard stories of the outsiders having amazing technology.
"Sorry, I never asked your name."
"Mark," he reached out a hand to shake hers.
She accepted his hand, "Careless, that's my name."
He smiled, "I know. But it's good to introduce yourself." She smiled at him, and turned her attention back to the train, inspecting its details.
Something grabbed her hand. She yelped, trying to pull away, but the grip was strong. A boy in a worker's uniform dropped to one knee.
"Will you marry me?" he shouted.
"U-um—"
"Ma! I got the catch!"
He tugged her arm, trying to drag her away, but Mark stepped in, pulling Careless behind him.
"Oi, old man, don't get in the middle of our engagement!"
Mark didn't flinch. "Back off."
The boy paused. "S-she's my fiancée!"
Mark leaned in, voice like stone. "Get. Lost."
The boy stepped back, then bolted.
Mark settled down. "Don't know what that boy was thinking." He turned to her, then noticed his hand was on her shoulder. "Oh, sorry," He took his hand back, and sat down.
"Do you know him?" Careless asked.
"No, but that boy seemed pretty confident, my guess is he's just high enough on the social spectrum to be used to just taking what he wants."
"You think he was serious?"
"Seemed like it." Mark glanced down and grinned. "You're blushing."
"I—I never thought I'd be… marriage material."
Mark began laughing, "Well, I haven't met too many Elves, so I can't make a comparison, but you seem like you'll be quite the catch when you're older."
Careless's blush deepened, "thanks," she said with a tiny voice.
Mark's smile widened.
"Excuse me young lady," Careless and Mark turned to see an elderly man speaking. "Would you mind seeing my grandson?"
Careless paused, "Your grandson?"
The old man smiled. "Thank you, come with me now." He started walking, then after a moment looked back, Careless wasn't moving. "Young lady!" the man shouted, "Come with me!"
Scared, Careless mindlessly got up. Mark grabbed her arm, then yelled back at the old man. "Keep moving old man, she's staying here!"
"By the fire, you need to butt out of our arrangement!"
"I didn't see an arrangement."
"Are you daft, she…" the old man paused when Mark gave him a stern glare. He mumbled; "fine, should have said something." He turned around, then stocked away.
"What was that about?" Mark questioned. He looked down, Careless was staring at him. "Was there something you needed?"
"N-no," Careless responded quickly, shuffling around. "I just didn't expect you to be able to be stern."
Mark snickered, "You're great, you know that? I think escorting you is gonna be fun." Careless smiled.
Careless stared down at her hands. Everyone here was a little strange. Loud. Blunt. But none of them had tried to hurt her. Sure her first impression of Humans wasn't so great, but it seemed okey here. Why were the Silcureuss guard so worried about letting Humans and Elves interact?
Four more men both young and middle aged came to talk to Careless in the time the nice lady took to come back.
"Sorry, there was a line as long as a firn snake," she said.
"We might need to get her something to cover up," Mark added. "She's attracting too much attention."
The woman looked to Careless, then her hand with a grin. "Come on. Let's go shopping."