21 – Sudden

It was a given that apprentices were burdens on their masters. Even so, Saffra couldn’t help but feel she’d been nothing but a nuisance to Lady Vivi, and she’d been her apprentice for all of half a day.

Guilty as she felt, her relief was stronger. Her necklace was the last thing she had to remember her village by. Even the prospect that she might have lost it had her hands turning clammy and anxious energy filling her.

But Vivi would find it. She could cast [Locate Object], and the resonating link should be strong enough to guarantee the divination. Especially since Saffra had only lost it that morning.

How would Lady Vivi make the trip to Prismarche and back in ‘one or two hours’, though? [Blink] was a short-range teleportation spell, and even that woman didn’t have infinite mana. Did she have access to even higher-tier spatial workings?

Saffra had been avoiding thinking about just how strong the woman teaching her was. It stressed her out. That she was being personally trained by an orichalcum already felt too ridiculous to be real. The likely reality that Vivi was higher was something she couldn’t come to terms with.

Someone like her would never luck into a Titled mage as a teacher, even if the arrangement was temporary. This wouldn’t work out in the end, Saffra knew, since nothing did. But she was ready for that, and all she wanted was a little training until then. Being a nuisance to her mentor wasn’t helping in that regard.

To settle her unease, she dove back into practice. She’d memorized the spell design for [Scorchlance] even if she couldn’t trace it yet. Maybe if she made progress while Vivi was gone, that would make up for the errand she’d sent her on.

She’d been worried Lord Caldimore or another of the nobles would approach her, but no one did. Neither did Jasper Trevane. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he came over to pry about Vivi either. She didn’t dislike the man, or sense anything suspicious about him, but he did make her nervous in the way any orichalcum would. Or, honestly, any adult man she didn’t know well. But more so the first part. It was only sensible to be doubtful of people who could fight entire battalions of bronze-rankers and come out unscathed.

Saffra was deeply focused on tracing the third rune of the twenty-seventh in [Scorchlance]’s ridiculously complicated design when, all of a sudden, up became down. She slammed into the ceiling, hit the wall in the next instant, then was thrown down the carriage with such force she broke the table in half. Dishes shattered around her, and an utter cacophony of other noises joined in.

It wasn’t just her. The entire carriage had erupted into chaos.

Disoriented, she scrambled to her feet.

Had the Convoy crashed?

She hadn’t felt a thing. Rainbow sparks had flown with every heavy impact made with ceiling, wall, and furniture, and when the turmoil ended, the carriage’s wall had become the floor. Yet she hadn’t been so much as bruised.

She’d spent months as a career adventurer, and even before had been no stranger to a sudden crisis. Her heart threatened to gallop out of her throat, but she kept control of her panic and made sense of what had happened.

Jasper Trevane and the White Glove were, like her, alert and standing. The various noblemen were crumpled or sprawled in various places. None looked injured, just shocked and slow to respond. Either their personal artifacts had activated, or the Lounge’s internal enchantments.

Not a single glass window had shattered despite the impact. This carriage was better protected than some castles, she reminded herself.

“What in all of creation!” Lord Caldimore bellowed as he was helped to his feet by the White Glove, whose uniform remained, somehow, unruffled. Her expression didn’t indicate a hint of concern or shock, as if this was utterly routine. White Gloves were cut from a different cloth.

The interior of the train car was ruined. Most of the furniture had been bolted down and thus hung from the floor-turned-wall, but shards of dishware were everywhere, and the rich velvet upholstery was torn in places, revealing white stuffing.

She checked herself over. That was always the first step after coming out of a fight that had gone wrong. But she was fine. Not a cut anywhere.

She owed Lady Vivi yet another debt. It might have been the Lounge’s enchantments that had protected her, since everyone else looked fine too, but the sparks of prismatic light told her it had more so been Vivi’s spell.

Jasper Trevane was the first to take action. He walked up beneath the exit door, jumped and grabbed the release lever, and pulled.

She felt immensely relieved that there was someone competent in their midst. A second later, she realized that the only reason there weren’t two such individuals was because she had sent Vivi off to retrieve her necklace.

Saffra started laughing. She couldn’t help herself. If everything in her life prior to this moment hadn’t been enough proof, this confirmed it: Fate hated her. The Convoy had derailed, and by pure chance, the Titled mage who could’ve protected everyone had been sent off on a pointless fetch quest.

She drew concerned looks from those in the carriage, but she ignored them. The hysterical amusement left her shortly, and she went quiet.

Jasper hadn’t paid much attention. He had pried open the exit door—to an explosion of protests from the passengers—and peeked outside.

“Better to know what we’re up against,” he called to the complainers. “And people are gonna need help. Not everyone’s got an enchanted carriage to hide in. Don’t worry, I’ll close it after me, you slimy bastards.”

The last was delivered under his breath, though loud enough she doubted anyone had missed it.

He hefted himself up and out, and, surprising herself, Saffra rushed after him.

He paused as he saw her, then reached in and offered a hand. She jumped and barely brushed her fingers against his—he leaned forward, grabbed her, and hauled her out.

“If you get yourself hurt, your master will probably kill me,” he said, yet he didn’t try to talk her out of her decision. He closed the door behind him, and Saffra felt the enchantment seal the space closed.

The Lounge was safer than anything for a hundred miles, and Vivi had paid two mithril to give her access to it.

Why, exactly, had she rushed out?

“Can’t the—the White Glove help too?” Saffra asked.

“Not unless her lord orders her to, and you can take a guess how likely that is.”

He stood and scanned the aftermath. Saffra, frowning at his answer, did the same.

It was a sobering sight.

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They were in the middle of a yellow, orange, and red field of grass, hills rolling off into the distance as far as the eye could see. The Emberblade Plains. She wasn’t familiar with the terrain this far north, but this scenery was iconic. A mithril-rank hunting ground. Yet still one of the safest ways into the secluded reaches that hosted Prismarche.

The Convoy had derailed. Dozens of carriages lay on their side, having torn up the field and left huge tracts of dirt and flattened grass. The vehicle had dragged two hundred feet at least—what had hit them, had hit them hard. As her gaze followed the snaking trail of cars, she saw that the second half of the train—mostly cargo, but some passenger cars too—remained upright and connected to the track.

It was as if the front had decided to take an abrupt left turn and dragged most of the Convoy along with it. With expected results.

The Convoy was the safest, fastest way to travel in the Kingdoms, but it wasn’t perfectly safe. One in a thousand trips, events like this did happen.

Thankfully, because it wasn’t an unheard-of event, a response team would be on the way. Until then, they were on their own.

Jasper whistled. “Now that’s a beastie,” he murmured with genuine awe.

Stomach sinking, Saffra turned around.

Half a mile away, a two-headed crow the size of a building was dragging the engine car in two enormous talons, wings flapping desperately as it tried to haul its prize into the air. It was failing—no doubt thanks to the engine car’s enchantments. The block of metal was simply too heavy and protected, even for a monster of that caliber. It could only drag it.

She tried to inspect the beast, but received a screen that read:

***

Inspection failed.