Chapter 29 Quinn #3
I sighed. “I just load the books… or I guess it’s picking up bits to unload and then reload supplies or something. I’ve never done an afternoon shift.”
Rowan’s face only got darker. “Are you sure you’re supposed to be working?”
“No, Rowan.” I lobbed my TB at him. “But the Architect sure is. And he’s not so subtly showing me exactly how little control I have over my future.”
Rowan spun my TB around until he could see my new schedule. “It’s Hope’s magic, so it came from her office,” he mumbled, his gaze darkening as he read.
Cayden leaned close to me. “Is this because of the other morning?”
Everly popped up beside me. “What happened the other morning?”
Heat filled my face.
And Everly’s jaw dropped. “No. You didn’t, Quinn. A Lawson?”
“And a Tate,” Rowan added, still studying my TB.
Everly looked between Cayden and Rowan until Brit gently pushed Everly’s jaw shut with a finger.
“I see it, but I don’t believe it.” Rowan handed me my TB back.
“The Architect’s a lot of things, but he wouldn’t put the safety of his castle on the line.
” He grimaced. “And he’s not petty. Making you work isn’t a smart strategy for the family, regardless of your personal choices.
Romance aside, he should be showing you how good life could be in his ranks, so you’d want to stay with us. ”
“Because I’m so important,” I said bitterly.
“Yes. You are.” Cayden bumped the table with his fists.
“Exactly, Q-tip.” Rowan ruffled my hair. “I’m glad you’re getting the point. If you or his castle gets hurt, he’d be beside himself.”
I rolled my eyes, not bothering to point out the obvious. Xan never treated me like the rest of his family. A bit of guilt crept into my gut. I’d made a lot of negative assumptions, but I also still had the second half of a seventeen-hour shift to work.
My heart hurt.
Rowan pulled me in for a bear hug. “Don’t go. I think it’s a mistake.”
I squeezed him back. “It’s fine, really. It ended up being a lot of magic practice. Maybe he had this planned, and it’s just bad timing, and I’m acting like a princess when I don’t need to.”
“I mean,” Everly bit her bottom lip. “You kinda are royalty, Quinn. Genetically speaking. Every other family is literally offering you the world, while the Architect’s making you toil in the tunnels under his castle.
” She raised an eyebrow. “Not going is a power move. It shows he can’t control you. ”
I looked at Cayden, who wouldn’t meet my gaze. “It’s gotten complicated. My family wants you. If we get kicked out, I don’t have a plan B.”
My heart skipped a beat. I hadn’t thought of that.
The memory of body snatchers swarming The Mile flashed through my mind, tightening my throat.
I rubbed my neck, suddenly aware of how exposed I was.
If I wanted to leave, I couldn’t just walk out the gates.
People were watching. Hunting. I’d need time, and a real plan.
“He wouldn’t—” Rowan started, but I waved my hand.
“I’m blowing this out of proportion. The deal was, I train my magic, or I work the train.” Adam would be so proud of me for my double train. “I forgot that when I told Ezra I needed space.”
“Oh, shit, you told the Architect you needed space?” Everly blinked rapidly.
I nodded. “Hope said everyone pulls their weight and works. Even Rowan has guard duty. I’m going to stop whining and go to work.” I looked for a bright side. “I’m already half done.”
Rowan pursed his lips. “Fine. I’ll walk you there and then go see the Architect and figure out what’s going on.”
A small ray of hope lifted the black cloud, but it didn’t promise a future. I needed to do that on my own. I dragged my feet back to the library with Cayden and Rowan on my heels.
Cayden kissed my cheek. “I’m not leaving the library until I see you walking out of it. And if this isn’t a mistake”—Cayden’s gaze darkened—“then tonight we’ll find a plan B together.”
There was steel beneath the velvet in his voice, and I believed him.
“Don’t do anything stupid.” Rowan looked pointedly at Cayden before wrapping me in a hug. “I should have come to you when I felt your pain last night, but it wasn’t physical, so I wasn’t sure…” He released me and rubbed his shoulder. “I’ll fix this. Cayden’s just above you if you need anything.”
Too soon, I found myself back on the train, with a new person this time. Unlike Adam, the new dude was young, fast-paced, and had absolutely no patience for my slow ass.
“If you can’t load faster, you’ll have to drive,” New Dude said, jabbing me with one of his poky fingers. He’d told me his name, but after a third prod, I made a point not to learn it.
I scowled at him. “Adam says I’m not supposed to drive the train for months.”
“Adam’s ancient and stuck in his ways.” New Dude raised an eyebrow. “You’re Quinn, right? The Architect’s ‘training’ you personally.” He put the word training in air quotes. “If you were knocked up already, you wouldn’t be down here, so do your job.”
Rage surged through me, chased by a hollow ache at the truth in his words. His poky fingers prodded my sides again, and I danced away from them before they could leave what I’m sure was already a collection of bruises.
“Look.” He put his hand over the dome Adam had used this morning. “You feed it here. Just split the stream once.” He kicked something with his shoe. “The excess comes out here.” He pointed at me. “What’s Adam’s catchphrase?”
I blinked at him. A train joke filled my mind first, but the phrase Adam repeated the most slipped out of my mouth. “Always vent the train.”
“Right-o.” He pointed at a few more gauges. “You got this.”
I bit my bottom lip, very sure I didn’t have this. Doubt made me hesitate. “Maybe I should wait for Rowan—”
“I don’t know who Rowan is, nor is he here.” New Dude cut me off. “I drove the train on day two. Just do your job.”
If Rowan was wrong, then I really was supposed to be here. I looked at my TB, but I hadn’t gotten any messages. I needed to stop hoping and get this done. If this was Xan being petty, then I’d gather my stuff, risk the body snatchers, and get Cayden and me far away from his family and my mistakes.
“Fine.” I slid to the controls.
Adam had shown me over and over how to dump my magic into the system. It wasn’t much different than the forge, though there were a few bits I was supposed to focus on at the same time.
At my command, my magic lit up the little dome with sparkles.
I did love that part. And the train inched forward.
For a split second, something close to joy hit me.
The same dizzy high right before a fall.
New Dude let out a satisfied grunt and hurried off to start prepping.
Instead of beaming things up, we would be receiving things back.
The slow caboose picked up speed as my magic siphoned into the ball at its helm.
Exhilaration rushed through me. Despite the lack of fresh air, the wind whipped at my face.
The soft thump of objects landing on the round table barely cut through the clatter of tracks and whirring parts.
The mist lighting the tunnels twinkled, and the cauldrons whizzed past faster than this morning.
“Slow it down a bit. We’re going to miss dropdown windows,” New Dude said, coming to my side. “And don’t forget to vent the train.”
“Okay.” I kicked the little box below me, but nothing happened.
The train picked up speed.
New Dude guided what looked and smelled like a big basket of rotting vegetables from the round plate to the edge of the compartment. “Why are we going faster?”
The world tilted; the wind slapped my face raw. I kicked the box again. And again. Still nothing. “It’s not venting, I think.”
“Just slow it down,” New Dude called from across the train.
“I don’t know how to slow it down,” I yelled, taking my hand off the circle, but just like the forge, my magic didn’t stop.
New Dude dove forward, pressing my hands back to the circle. “Never let go of the circle. Fuck me, who—”
A gauge on my left suddenly spun right and turned red while two buttons flashed under it. The wind tore at my hair, even moving my heavy overalls.
“Slow us down!” New Dude screamed.
He dropped to his knees, trying to do something to the area I was supposed to be venting. I closed my eyes and tried my visualization tactics, which usually worked eventually in the Alun. But I wasn’t in the Alun; I was on a train that was hurtling underground.
My chest constricted, and my vision blurred. I glanced down at New Dude. Ezra’s voice echoed, ‘control.’ If I teleported, I’d leave him behind, on a speeding train, possibly to die.
It didn’t matter that I didn’t like him. I couldn’t live with myself.
For the first time in my life, I stopped an involuntary teleport.
Control burned worse than chaos, but it was mine.
Something buzzed on the console, and I looked just as a hazy bend in the tracks came into view.
The light didn’t penetrate beyond the beginning of the curve.
There was no way we could make that turn at this speed.
We hit the curve. The front of the train jumped the track, slammed into the magically smoothed floor, and crashed into the tunnel wall with a metallic scream.
Metal folded, air shattered, and gravity forgot which way was down.
The train shuddered to a stop, but nothing inside did.
Momentum hurled everything forward. Crates, gears, bodies.
I had no time to react. I flew into the wreckage.
Something sharp ripped into my hip, and a burst of blinding magic lit up the tunnel.
Then—silence. My magic fizzled out mid-breath, and the dark took me whole.