Chapter 15
Train day was always a shitshow as far as Gunnar understood it. When Rina struck out to claim Nizhny seven years ago, she’d paid heavy tolls to get trains coming in from Moscow down the line to the ass end of Siberia. At first, they limited it to imports at ridiculous markups. Once the exports started and news of Nizhny spread, people started coming down the rails as well.
Rina didn’t allow for tourists, but with the increase in the town’s exports warranting a train every week, more and more unfamiliar faces came to sniff out Nizhny. Anything from investors to alchemists, and poachers to the occasional desperate soul seeking sanctuary.
Rina allowed for an open market of sorts for whatever wasn’t assigned for exports. Aster ran the tavern for meals and drinks, E kept a stall for anything from weapons to jewelry, and the Clan usually sold treated furs and leather armor. Innocence and Virtue entertained, of course, while others made themselves scarce, like the harpy and the chuchunas. Gunnar would have liked to do the same, but Audrey loved having a stall on train day.
He needed to make extra trips today for the zmei parts, a gods’ damned fortune coming their way. This was his second sled load, but he needed to make a stop before the market. The north end of the station proper housed the local pack, a mix of Aperien dire wolves, normal wolves, dogs, and various half-breeds.
He’d promised Audrey he’d drop off the frozen broth cubes she’d made for the puppies. The larger beasts, including the alpha pair, made themselves scarce with strangers in town at Rina’s request. She liked to keep some of her cards close, he’d learned.
Gunnar whistled when he reached the pack encampment. A series of shelters, lean-tos, and dens dug into the hard pack. A muddy mess, and it reeked of dog piss, but even he couldn’t help a chuckle with the dozen puppy faces poked out of the closest den. One howled, and that set the entire group off, and then they charged him, barking and yipping. This group was mostly wolf, barely a trace of magic in their blood, which made them little more than sled dogs, although smarter than average.
“Alright, alright,” he grumbled, unpacking the ice chucks and sliding them away, the pups tripping all over themselves to chase the blood and broth pucks. A larger wolf, one of the older females in the pack, watched from the den entrance, eyes gleaming yellow from the shadows.
“Audrey says hi,” he called, and the wolf chuffed at him, then disappeared back underground.
That done, Gunnar picked up the pace. Audrey was already at the market, and he didn’t much like her there without him. They’d never know what—or who—the train might drag in.
Audrey was supposed to be dead. He wasn’t sure anyone on this continent would recognize her face. The Eastern Seaboard Conjunct was one of the few places that kept on with twentieth century technology, but the Moscow Dominion made up another pocket. Would anyone all the way the fuck out here recognize the human who helped change the Vilestars Accord? Unlikely, but the idea put his teeth on edge every time the train rolled in.
She’d lost so much on his behalf. Gunnar tugged a little harder than necessary on the sled straps, picking up his pace. He’d keep her from losing anything else.
A few minutes later, a hundred unfamiliar scents mingled together, along with the cacophony of train day. Yeah, train days couldn’t go by fast enough for him. He headed directly to the loading area first, to make sure the materials from his kills made it out on this train and to give his senses time to adjust.
Gunnar rubbed his chin as he walked, recalling the brief conversation about their savings and Audrey moving to the station. Maybe she was just trying to be polite, but she hadn’t smelled like deception. She never did. They’d need to talk more about it, because this load from the zmei was a shitload of trade, and it wasn’t even half their share of the creature.
He greeted Frode and Hertha, the eldest pair of the Clan overseeing loading as usual. Kept the Clan kids out of trouble on train days, which everyone needed. Uffe stepped over as Gunnar settled his pallet near the open freight car.
“How’s the wounds?>>” Gunnar asked. Uffe startled at his use of Old Norse. Before the Longest Night three days back, he’d never really spoken to the kid aside from their initial introductions.
Uffe shrugged at him, chest puffed out as any fifteen-year-old might. “What wounds?>>” And to prove himself, he slung a burlap bag of dragon bones over his shoulder. Gunnar held up his hands, overlooking the way the boy stumbled.
Once Uffe was out of earshot, Frode grunted. “Stubborn boy, that one. And we never thanked you properly.>>” When Gunnar raised a brow, Frode waved a hand. “Too drunk that morning.>>”
That was the fucking truth. Gunnar grinned, wondering how much Aster had taken out of his hide—and Rina’s—for all that broken furniture in the tavern. “It’s nothing.>>”
Hertha stepped down from the train car, dusting off her callused palms. She looked at him like she wanted to hit him, but her scent was calm and clear. Still, short as she was for a Viking berserker, Gunnar was pretty sure Hertha’s word was final for Clan matters.
“It’s far from nothing. That boy was a fool, and without you and the chuchuna, we might have lost him. The Clan is the last of our kind, and family. We’ve lost enough over the years, many on the Longest Nights.>>” The woman gave him another once over, then a sharp nod. “I wouldn’t have let you near this place, but you’ve more than proven yourself.>>”
Gunnar inclined his head. Wasn’t this just cozy? He excused himself and left the sled; he’d get it later this afternoon or tomorrow.
It was amazing the difference having a few dozen outsiders in town for the day made. The train always rolled in near first light and left by dawn the next day. Occasionally, Rina would arrange stay-overs for the week, but she kept a tight lid on her business and a polite sort of iron fist over her guests. Living on the fringes of town, Gunnar made a point of going the whole week without the pleasure of socializing with someone new on those rare occasions. The static population of Nizhny was far and away enough people in his life. Too many, honestly.
He brushed by strangers, all of them carrying scents he associated with the Moscow Dominion. Old industrial and regimented magic, lingering touches of wards used to keep the winters out and population within the laws and bindings. As far as Gunnar understood it, and he never cared much for politics aside from what Audrey shared over dinners, a large majority of the Dominion’s magic came from its queen of sorts: Jaga Baba, the eldest of the Baba Yaga sisters, who was Rina’s aunt. The Aperien witch had married Koschei the Deathless, both known for leading a productive but strict regime.
He smelled a strange witch’s dark magic now, thicker than normal for proprietors passing through. Gunnar homed in on the scent but doubted the woman herself had made time to visit. Rina didn’t speak with much fondness for her aunt. If Jaga Baba had come calling, they’d all know about it by now.
Gunnar frowned when he found the source waiting in line at Audrey’s stall. She thanked another visitor before the man Gunnar scented stepped forward. He was unremarkable aside from the magic in his scent and wealthy clothing. It reeked of witch and power, more power than any duster, despite appearing remarkably human. Two bodyguards flanked the man, both duster trolls. He’d bet his nose on it.
The stranger removed his gloves as he stepped up to Audrey, who greeted him in careful Russian.
Hells, her accent was still atrocious. Gunnar couldn’t help smirking; they really needed to work on it.
The man answered her in a clipped tone, asking Audrey where her keeper was.
“Keeper?>> I’m sorry, I’m . . .” Audrey cleared her throat, beginning again. “I am sorry, my Russian is poor.>>”
“You are human, yes?>>” the man asked, pointing at her for emphasis.
Audrey patted over her heart. “Human, yes.>>” Her smile didn’t waver, though it didn’t reach her eyes now. She gestured toward her table. “Buy?>>”
When the man smiled, Gunnar’s skin prickled, but he held back from interrupting just yet.
“Yes, I’m interested. If you have no owner, you can return with me to the Dominion in the morning.>>” The stranger didn’t wait for a reply, instead doling out instructions for one of his guards to head to the station now to book an extra seat.
Gunnar cut through the crowd, a growl building in his chest.
Audrey struggled to translate. “Owner?>>” She pointed to the stall, to their goods. “This is me and my partner’s. We own.>>” She shook her head, frowning. “I’m sorry, I really don’t understand what you’re asking. Do you speak English by any chance?”
The stranger caught Audrey’s chin. When she tried to move back, protesting, he held tight. “Another human? I suppose I could purchase them as well to secure owning a human as sweet as you, dear.>>”
Gunnar snatched the man by the wrist, ripping his fingers from Audrey’s skin and muscling him back a few paces. He swore and struggled, unable to break from Gunnar’s grip.
“Don’t fucking touch her.>>”
“Unhand me, now. Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?>>”
The trolls had their axes out, snarling as they circled in tighter, Audrey yelling from behind him to stop. Gunnar let go, but not before shoving the man so he stumbled over his fancy shoes.
He straightened himself, smoothing his pompous jacket front and waving down his guard. The man had icy blue eyes and a flop of dark blond hair tucked under his wool hat. He gave Gunnar another once over, then motioned to Audrey, who held Gunnar’s forearm in both hands.
“You know this human, then?>>” When Gunnar only stared at him, the man huffed and rolled his eyes. “Well, does she belong to anyone? I’m not here to stand out in the cold all damn afternoon. If she’s not claimed, I’ll arrange her purchase and take her off your hands.>>”
The answer left his mouth before Gunnar gave it a single thought. “She’s mine.>>”
The man blinked a few times, his witch scent bursting with annoyance. “I see no markings of ownership. I’m to believe a vileblood has gone through the proper, legal channels to secure possession of this girl?>>”
“She’s mine,>>” Gunnar repeated. “Touch her again and I’ll kill you.>>”
That got the trolls up in arms again, all snarls and broken, yellowed teeth under beady black eyes, but the witch-man didn’t seem bothered. He seemed determined now, entitled in a way that made Gunnar’s muscles twitch.
“I’ll speak to my cousin then and get this sorted out properly. Honestly, Rina must be more desperate than I imagined, allowing something like you inside her borders.”>> A tsk, and the man turned his back on Gunnar, a clear dismissal. His trolls were smart enough to guard his back until they all moved out of reach.
Gunnar watched them go, his hands in bloodless fists.
“What was that about?” Audrey asked, her scent laced with concern. “I couldn’t follow everything. Does he think we stole something?”
“No,” Gunnar said, a snarl low in his throat. “Do me a favor and go help E with his stall until I get back.”
“What’s wrong? Jonathan? Hey, don’t just boss me around and walk off!”
“Misunderstanding,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “Need to fix it before it gets more complicated.”
“I’ll go with you then,” Audrey said, shuttering their shop and making a hasty apology to those waiting, but Gunnar shook his head when she was done. She planted her hands on her hips. “Why not?”
“I’m not sure what he’ll do.” Gunnar watched the stranger and his bodyguards disappear into the station proper, no doubt headed right to Rina. His cousin. “Don’t want you around him until we know.” When he inhaled to test her scent, she watched him with her brows furrowed. Worried, but as always, for him and not for herself. He rolled his eyes. “I won’t pick a fight, not unless they make me.”
She rolled her eyes back, but she wasn’t amused. “Be careful. He reminds me of some of the wealthy Aperiens in the ESC. Like he thinks since he has money, he can do whatever he wants.” She folded her arms, her scent unhappy now, so he nudged her with his shoulder.
“Go piss off E, it’ll make you feel better.”
She pushed him away. He let her move him and grinned, but she headed E’s direction without further protest. Gunnar’s amusement dropped cold as soon as she turned.