Shadow Train by J. Gabriel Gates

penetrating, dark brown eyes. He was tall and imposing, with limbs that seemed to Zhai as long and strong as the branches of an ancient oak. But perhaps it was his garb that made Zhai think of a tree. Instead of the robes he’d worn before—the one of bloody, autumn red or the austere, icy bluish-white garment—this time, the Magician’s habit was the tender green color of the first newly born buds of spring.
    â€œGreetings, Man of Four, our Dark Teacher,” Chin said and bowed.
    Silently, the Magician returned the bow.
    â€œYou know the one whom we seek,” Chin said. “Will you help us find him?”
    The Magician stared at Chin without moving, without breathing, as still as a corpse. In their previous encounters, Zhai had found the Magician’s maniacal laughter and endless questions disturbing and frightening—but neither was half as terrible as his current stillness.
    As Zhai’s desperation rose, he could no longer contain it or remain silent. He moved closer to Chin and spoke to the Man of Four: “Please, how can we get Raphael back?” he asked. “Tell us what to do and we’ll do it.”
    Slowly, the Magician’s gaze shifted to Zhai.
    â€œHave you the treasure?” the Magician asked.
    Zhai had expected to feel relieved when the Magician finally broke the horrible silence, but his voice was terrifying, too. It was somehow deep enough that Zhai could feel its rumble but also shrill enough that he wanted to cover his ears.
    â€œYes,” Zhai answered quickly, and Chin held out the five ring shards.
    The magician’s terrible, dark eyes scanned Master Chin’s outstretched hands.
    â€œA broken wheel cannot turn,” he said, and Zhai felt his hope crumbling to despair. Then, he had a realization.
    â€œWait—so you mean if we get all the shards and put them back together, then the Wheel will turn, and we can get Raphael back?”
    It would be hard to get the shards back from all the Toppers and the Flatliners—but if there was a possibility it would work, they had to try. Zhai wouldn’t rest until they’d exhausted every effort to get Raph back.
    A slow smile curled across the Magician’s face.
    â€œThat’s it!” Zhai said triumphantly. “We have to reunite all the shards!”
    He looked to the Magician for further confirmation, but the man’s smile had disappeared. He sniffed the air, frowning.
    â€œWhat is it?” Chin asked, his brow furrowed with concern.
    The Magician looked at him, a hint of his smile returning. “I smell snake,” he said, and he receded quickly into the darkness, disappearing even as he went.
    At the same instant, Zhai heard the sound of a footstep on the railroad ties behind them and whipped around, his flashlight slashing through the darkness. The man who stepped out of the shadows was handsome and muscular, with a thin moustache and pale-gray eyes. He wore a black silk shirt, and he was Chinese.
    â€œGreetings, Chin,” he said. But his inflection was harsh and the words seemed more like a command than a greeting. Zhai’s mind spun as he tried to figure out who this stranger might be, and he widened his stance, preparing for a potential attack. A moment later, his worries were confirmed: five men wearing derby hats stepped out of the darkness and took their positions behind the stranger.
    Master Chin, as usual, remained perfectly calm. “Hello, Feng Xu,” he said.
    Zhai noticed a stirring in the shadows behind their adversaries, and for just an instant he was able to see the outline of the God of the Black Snakes—a massive, half-invisible cobra, rising behind them.
    A pang of crippling fear hit Zhai in the gut. So it would be just him, Chin, and Maggie fighting against Feng Xu, five Obies, and an ancient Snake God? It didn’t look good. What they desperately needed was backup.
    Please, All! Please, Shen! Zhai entreated silently, fighting