and pink as the sun began to rise over the eastern hills. Kate’s body ached with cold and her eyelids were starting to become heavy when she eventually heard the swooshing sound of stone arches passing overhead. The Night Train’s brakes engaged, sending a loud squeal screeching up from the hot wheels, and Kate sat up, knowing that the sound could only mean one thing.
They had arrived.
Fume was Albion’s most fortified city, separated from the rest of the world by high outer walls and a wide river that had been diverted to circle it like a moat. Rows of empty stables stood along those walls, where travellers’ horses had been kept before war with the Continent had been declared, and dozens of wardens stood guard along the city’s perimeter and at the great black gates, ready to question anyone who wanted to pass through. But Kate could not see any of that herself. All she saw were more arches passing above her as the train slowed down, sweeping around a wide curve of track.
‘Hold on to something,’ said Silas, still standing beside her. ‘Now.’
Kate grabbed hold of the bars just before the cage swung hard and the entire carriage tilted forward, descending into a sloping tunnel that carried the train underground. They were gaining speed, darkness swamped the carriage and the horn sounded again, echoing deafeningly from the walls as they swallowed the train down. After that there was only the smell of smoke and choking heat as the lanterns flickered out.
The walls hugged dangerously close to the carriages and the ceiling was just high enough to allow the engine’s chimney to pass through. Kate’s eyes stung in the hot smoke as the train rolled deeper underground, beneath the river, beneath the city walls and down towards the oldest foundations of the city. The screams of the prisoners sounded distant and unearthly. The train shivered so violently it felt like it could fall apart at any moment and still the tunnel continued curling down. Metal ground against metal, the brakes squealed and the train slowed. Then the tunnel widened, soft firelight spread from a red-bricked ceiling hung with lanterns and the mighty engine rumbled along the last few feet before coming to a final bone-juddering stop.
The wardens wasted no time. The sound of sliding doors shook through the train and raised voices carried through the air. But they were not prisoners’ voices Kate could hear. They were loud, confident, and they were all shouting at once. Silas threw open the carriage door and what Kate saw beyond it was as unexpected as it was terrifying.
The train had stopped at a station built into a cavern of earth that looked like it was being held up by buildings from the past. The damp walls were a mass of stone pillars, half ruined walls, statues, doorways and arches positioned in places no one would ever be able to use them. Some jutted out at odd angles halfway up the sides of the cavern, half buried in the mud, and others were squashed on top of each other like layers in a cake. It looked like someone had taken chunks of broken buildings and pushed them into the cavern walls, letting them sink in before the earth had hardened permanently around them.
Outside the train was a wide stone platform divided in two by a high wooden fence. The right-hand side was for the wardens and prisoners being taken off the train and the left side was filled with people shouting at them, waving pouches of coins and craning their necks to get a good look inside the carriages before anyone was brought out.
‘Tailors!’ shouted a woman, her shrill voice carrying above the rest. ‘I’ll pay five gold for a seasoned stitcher, two for an apprentice.’
‘Housekeepers!’ barked a man beside her. ‘Four gold apiece for a strong woman and boy!’
‘Dancers!’
‘Builders!’
‘Bakers!’
‘Servants!’
And so it went on. A rage of voices, all desperate to buy the prisoners
They had arrived.
Fume was Albion’s most fortified city, separated from the rest of the world by high outer walls and a wide river that had been diverted to circle it like a moat. Rows of empty stables stood along those walls, where travellers’ horses had been kept before war with the Continent had been declared, and dozens of wardens stood guard along the city’s perimeter and at the great black gates, ready to question anyone who wanted to pass through. But Kate could not see any of that herself. All she saw were more arches passing above her as the train slowed down, sweeping around a wide curve of track.
‘Hold on to something,’ said Silas, still standing beside her. ‘Now.’
Kate grabbed hold of the bars just before the cage swung hard and the entire carriage tilted forward, descending into a sloping tunnel that carried the train underground. They were gaining speed, darkness swamped the carriage and the horn sounded again, echoing deafeningly from the walls as they swallowed the train down. After that there was only the smell of smoke and choking heat as the lanterns flickered out.
The walls hugged dangerously close to the carriages and the ceiling was just high enough to allow the engine’s chimney to pass through. Kate’s eyes stung in the hot smoke as the train rolled deeper underground, beneath the river, beneath the city walls and down towards the oldest foundations of the city. The screams of the prisoners sounded distant and unearthly. The train shivered so violently it felt like it could fall apart at any moment and still the tunnel continued curling down. Metal ground against metal, the brakes squealed and the train slowed. Then the tunnel widened, soft firelight spread from a red-bricked ceiling hung with lanterns and the mighty engine rumbled along the last few feet before coming to a final bone-juddering stop.
The wardens wasted no time. The sound of sliding doors shook through the train and raised voices carried through the air. But they were not prisoners’ voices Kate could hear. They were loud, confident, and they were all shouting at once. Silas threw open the carriage door and what Kate saw beyond it was as unexpected as it was terrifying.
The train had stopped at a station built into a cavern of earth that looked like it was being held up by buildings from the past. The damp walls were a mass of stone pillars, half ruined walls, statues, doorways and arches positioned in places no one would ever be able to use them. Some jutted out at odd angles halfway up the sides of the cavern, half buried in the mud, and others were squashed on top of each other like layers in a cake. It looked like someone had taken chunks of broken buildings and pushed them into the cavern walls, letting them sink in before the earth had hardened permanently around them.
Outside the train was a wide stone platform divided in two by a high wooden fence. The right-hand side was for the wardens and prisoners being taken off the train and the left side was filled with people shouting at them, waving pouches of coins and craning their necks to get a good look inside the carriages before anyone was brought out.
‘Tailors!’ shouted a woman, her shrill voice carrying above the rest. ‘I’ll pay five gold for a seasoned stitcher, two for an apprentice.’
‘Housekeepers!’ barked a man beside her. ‘Four gold apiece for a strong woman and boy!’
‘Dancers!’
‘Builders!’
‘Bakers!’
‘Servants!’
And so it went on. A rage of voices, all desperate to buy the prisoners
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