Sparks flew up from the wheels, brightening the dark stone tunnel walls. The exit, a slightly less dark hole on the far side, approached rapidly. With the speed the train had been going, Amaranthe didn’t know if it could stop in time.
The forward force lessened a smidgen, and whoever was pressed against her back tried to peel away from her. She planted both hands on the window and pushed herself upright.
On the other side of the furnace, Sicarius crouched, leaning back, the tendons in his neck standing out as he continued to pull at the long brake lever. Smoke poured from the engine, shrouding the view ahead. If something in there had caught on fire…
The train halted inches from the snowy overhang at the end of the tunnel. Smoke continued to leak from the seams of the engine, though at least the noise abated. Amaranthe’s ears ached after all that screeching.
“You’re insane!” Yara shouted. “You could have wrecked the train and killed us all.”
Amaranthe stepped toward her and patted the air with a placating hand. Yelling at someone who carried as many knives as Sicarius was never a good idea.
But all Sicarius said was, “Your efforts would not have halted the train in time.”
Amaranthe touched his shoulder and nodded toward the tunnel exit. “Check it out, will you? I think they came over the cliff in time to see us go in.”
Sicarius released the brake, slid past Basilard and Maldynado, and hopped out of the train.
“That man is a lunatic,” Yara growled.
Maldynado was pushing his shoulder-length brown curls out of his face with one hand, and with the other he patted Yara on the shoulder. “Yes, but he’s a lunatic that’s good to keep on your side.”
“Touching,” she snapped at him.
Maldynado lifted his hand and met Amaranthe’s eyes. “The man who can tame this woman would excel in a career of training tigers, sharks, grimbals, and other wild creatures with bad attitudes.”
“Are you trying to be clever?” Yara touched her forehead, where a new knot was rising. She must have banged against something too.
“Rarely,” Maldynado said.
Sespian pointed a shaky hand toward the ominous black plumes wafting from the engine. “Should we get out of here? I don’t think our train is making another run.”
“I concur,” Amaranthe said.
“We have to walk up to the pass?” Maldynado asked. “How far is it from here?”
Yara glared at him.
“I’m not whining,” Maldynado said. “I’m just concerned we won’t make our meet-up time with Akstyr and Books.”
Basilard hopped to the ground and Amaranthe followed him, gravel shifting under her feet when she landed. She touched the rock wall for balance and grimaced when her hand came away dirty with algae or some other slick, damp growth. She pulled out her kerchief.
Basilard coughed and waved at the smoke in the air. It had a tarry, burning-rubber odor that made Amaranthe’s eyes water.
“Are you all right?” she asked Basilard, figuring he’d been the one to crash into her from behind.
Fresh blood streamed from a deep gash on his head, but he merely nodded. When he caught her eying it, he signed, New scar.
“We may all have them by the time this is over,” Amaranthe said.
Whose idea was it to let Sicarius drive? That was worse than a Maldynado ride.
“You haven’t been in a garbage lorry with him.”
“I heard that,” Maldynado said from the other side of the train.
“Do you have the emperor over there?” Amaranthe asked, wanting to make sure everyone was out.
“Yes,” Sespian called back. “Though I think we should move away from the train before the boiler explodes.”
“Get back in the train,” Sicarius called as he ran back down the railway toward them.
“ In the train?” Amaranthe asked, not certain she’d heard him correctly.
“In. Now!”
A boom sounded somewhere outside. The earth quaked, and something that sounded like a rifle shot emanated from the rock overhead. Stones detached from the ceiling and clattered onto the tracks.
“Now is good,” Amaranthe said.
Before she’d taken more than a step toward the train, Sicarius grabbed her about the waist and hoisted her inside. He leaped in after her, and lunged to the other side where Sespian was climbing in. Sicarius gripped Sespian’s forearm and hauled him in so swiftly that the emperor’s feet flew from the ground and he let out a startled squawk.
Basilard, Maldynado, and Yara climbed in of their own accord, the last person ducking inside a second before a head-sized rock plummeted from above and landed on the still-smoking engine. It bounced off but left a gouge in the metal.
A succession of booms followed the first, some of them so loud that the echoes seemed to bounce around in Amaranthe’s head. More rock fell, sometimes pebbles, sometimes boulders. Dust filled the passage, competing with the smoke. Amaranthe dragged a sleeve across her face, wiping away tears.
“Would it be better to run outside?” Even yelling, she wasn’t certain anyone would hear her.
A boulder slammed into the top of the locomotive cab, and the ceiling dropped so low it cut into Amaranthe’s view of the others. An inch to the left, and it would have smashed in Maldynado’s head. Eyes bulging, he backed away, then decided that wasn’t enough and dropped to the floor, arms protecting his neck and skull.
“Down.” Sicarius jerked his thumb toward the floor so everyone would see.
Amaranthe dropped to her knees beside Maldynado. Dust had flooded the cab, and she tied her kerchief around her mouth and nose.
“They’re hovering outside,” Sicarius said. “They want to drive us out. They-”
Another round of booms drowned out his voice. Rubble poured from the ceiling, and plumes of dust stormed into the tunnel. Visibility vanished. Even with the kerchief, fine particles invaded Amaranthe’s throat and nostrils. Shards of rock flew sideways, ricocheting off metal-and people-inside the cab.
She sank low, her head tucked into her knees, her eyes clenched shut. They were being buried alive; she didn’t want to see it.
A sharp rock struck her temple, and she grunted in pain. Amaranthe felt like she was breathing dirt instead of air, and a spasm gripped her lungs. Coughs wracked her body. She fought against panic and the urge to run outside and take her chances with the enemy craft. By now there might not be an outside to run to.
A light weight settled on her upper back. She peeled open one eyelid and found herself looking at Sicarius’s jaw. He’d draped himself over her, protecting her head.
Amaranthe took comfort from his presence and forced herself to stay calm, to breathe slowly, to pull as much air from the dust miasma as she could. What seemed like an hour of quaking and falling rubble was probably only a minute. The noise finally faded, and other coughs-and more than a fair number of curses-filled the air. At least, if her men were cursing, they were alive.
“Emperor’s balls,” a raspy Maldynado said, “we’re trapped.”
Amaranthe lifted her head, and Sicarius shifted away. Her first thought was to check on the emperor and her team to make sure everyone was alive, but the walls of rubble surrounding them on all sides stunned her. Rocks blocked one doorway and half of the other, and boulders had rolled into the cabin. The windows were broken. A single wan lantern had survived the rockfall, and its weak flame flickered, half-choked by the hazy air. Weak or not, it revealed plenty. As Maldynado had said, they were trapped.
“Emperor’s what?” Sespian lifted his head and brushed dirt and pebbles out of his hair.
“Uhm, never mind,” Maldynado said.
Basilard’s fingers flickered, their movements exaggerated so the signs were readable in the poor light. You’ll have to rework your curses, given the present company.
“Maybe so.” Maldynado poked Yara who hadn’t yet lifted her head. “You alive, Grouch?”