STEAM LOCOMOTIVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Saya Claymore
A train. A real train.
Topside no longer has a train system because it was relatively easy to ambush the passengers. Picture books and accounts from others in the feeding ground suggested that vegetation now covers most train tracks.
Trains don’t exist. Most people use cars, and if someone can find a horse, they will ride it. Trains, planes and trams are just memories for those who were here before Mother left. They exist only in books.
In history.
My palms itch with sweat, and my stomach churns with anxiety at the thought of seeing a train. Just a bloody train. Funny how something so simple can excite me.
The wall opens, the rush of water pricking my pointed ears, and wet, dripping stone overwhelms my senses. Lamplit torches illuminate the narrow stairwell curving down.
Serun takes the lead, and with every step, shadows cling close to his skin, blackening until he is completely engulfed and wearing the shadows. There can only be one reason he’s hiding himself: we must be meeting more nightwalkers down here, and he doesn’t trust them.
“How do you have a train?” I am a step behind him, my hand on the wall for balance while he glides gracefully with his hands by his sides. “And how is it here, in the Sunken City?”
“For us to travel avoiding the slayers.” Serun slows his steps until he walks beside me. “I wanted a way for my brother to escape if they ever tried to cross the sea again—as well as for my family to have easy access to this place without being so exposed.”
“Is this the only train you have?”
“Yes. We tried having one on our side of the border, but slayers snuck through and it caused a lot of meaningless deaths. So, I disbanded the railway and tightened security around the border.”
“You’re acting like nightwalkers are the victims when you are the ones who control us.”
“Because you’ve only heard one side of the story.
We are the enemy. We control everything you do.
We are the reason you fear the dark. Yes, topside is rough, with most nightwalkers there desperate and starved, but we aren’t the reason the world is like this.
” His voice is softer, and his shadows smooth out as he says, “I never wanted this, but we have accepted that Mother’s departure cracked the world, and with it came monsters who want to survive too. ”
“By caging humans and using them for resources.”
“We don’t cage humans, Saya. We don’t control. There are laws, yes, but my laws protect humans.” His eyes narrow slightly. “We want to survive. Is that so much to ask?”
I open my mouth to reply, but my attention turns to the sudden light ahead until it breaks across my skin. Whatever was left of the warmth in my body vanishes, and I pick at my fingernails, focusing on the pain instead of my exposed, icy skin. A reminder that I am not human, I am this thing that—
“You’re beautiful, Saya,” he says, causing me to look at him and then quickly away. “In my world, you are a deity. Someone to worship.”
A shallow sigh slips out as I say, “You have a way with words, but who is really saying it? The nightwalker I met at the feeding ground, or the Lord of the Undercity?”
“They’re the same.”
“I’d like to believe the nightwalker I met would not have put me in a cage.”
Shadows stir in the corner of my eye, and our bodies are drenched in light. “I’m sorry, Saya,” he says, just shy of a whisper.
I bite my lower lip, my fang sinking into my flesh, and the taste of iron floods my tongue.
We break away from the enclosed stairwell, and it opens onto a stone path with a row of pillars down the centre.
Nightwalkers stand near a yellow line, murmuring conversations pricking my sensitive ears.
Excitement stirs in the air, and I recognise some of the other newborns from the auction.
They each stand beside a new master, their simple clothing a stark contrast to lavish gowns and satin suits, many of them smoking through long cigarette holders.
“Lord Serun is here,” says a hushed voice.
The conversation becomes more animated when the rest of the crowd notices us. Serun doesn’t acknowledge them. We move down the path, his focus fixed ahead while those around us crouch low, creeping towards us, animalistic, murmuring their thanks.
Worshipping him.
I see Devan and his unusual master with grease stains all over a long-sleeved grey tunic. Devan’s rough, calloused hands are clasped together, and he winks and flashes me a grin when we pass.
In the corner of my eye, Serun’s eyes narrow, and his shadows start to drape like a cape, dragging across the ground, inking the tiles black.
Shadows tear like ripped paper, becoming clawed hands that crawl their way to Devan.
A hungry growl rips through the already frosty air, and the lighting dims to drench the tunnel in grey.
Nightwalkers creep back with low hisses and bent ears, afraid of Serun.
“You don’t like him?”
“I don’t like the way he looks at you like his cock is twitching, begging for blood to harden.”
Sucking in a breath, saliva catches in my throat, and I cough.
Serun chuckles. “I enjoy this flustered side of you.”
“Enough, nightwalker.”
“Enough of what?”
I turn away as a hint of a smile reaches my face, no matter how much I don’t want it to. Unused muscles click into place, and I feel the softness of it touch my eyes, along with a stutter of warmth from my heart.
Maeve waits at the end of the lane with the Death Spirit, silver scars shining across his sun-kissed skin.
He wears similar clothing to his master instead of the bland shirt and trousers most nightwalkers from the cages now wear.
The buttoned-up white suit is covered in black veins that remind me of a spider’s web.
Serun stops before them, and my nose tickles at an overwhelming lavender scent.
The Death Spirit’s eyes snap in our direction, and he bows. “Lord Serun and Lady Consort,” he grumbles.
“Saya,” Serun says coolly. “Call her by her name. She’s not accustomed to our ways.”
The man straightens, and his focus settles on me. “Lady Saya.”
Heat flushes my cheeks, and I find it difficult to look at him for longer than a second.
Before this, I was Feeder zero-zero-eight. And before that, everyone in Cherry Bloom Village ignored me.
So, I doubt I will ever get used to this.
Maeve’s eyes crinkle. Stepping closer to the Death Spirit, she loops her arm with his, like Julien and Bianca used to do as they strolled the courtyard.
Her red fedora casts a shadow over her expression, but those piercing eyes still penetrate the darkness.
“Brother and…Saya, will you be joining us in our carriage?”
“No. We will take the last carriage with the Feeder room, so Saya can sleep undisturbed,” Serun responds. He could have just said no, but it seems he’s trying to put me at ease.
Maeve smiles warmly. With her free hand, she tips her fedora as she bows. “Enjoy your travels.”
A screech pierces my sensitive ears. “What’s happening?” My breath comes out shaky. “Are we under attack?”
Serun chuckles, and his clawed hand rests over mine that now clings to his flesh.
My fingernails have sunk in deep, and the moist scent of blood comes with me when he peels my fingers away to hold my hand.
A sweet perfume lingers from his broken skin, and my gums ache, saliva thickening in my mouth.
“It’s the train,” he says, his mouth grazing the tip of my ear.
The train?
Whatever hunger throbbed in my gums subsides when a metal beast comes into sight.
Smoke blows from a chimney above an imposing wedge-shaped metal guard, and a curved window encloses the front cab.
Metal rods tie the train’s huge front wheels together, moving in a synchronised circular motion, almost seeming to float.
It’s pulling carriages behind it with misted windows and doors to every compartment.
Steam thickens as it slows, a haze in the tunnel, obscuring everyone until it’s just me and Serun and the last carriage in front of us.
Metal, steel, and the loud shuddering sound of exhaled steam gushing.
Doors open with a slapping sound. With my hand still in Serun’s, he tugs me forward, and my stone steps lighten.
To our right, Maeve disappears with the Death Spirit.
I really should learn his name.
“Don’t touch me, fucker!”
My ear twitches, and the steamy haze thins enough for me to see Olivia. Her master grabs her dark hair, pulling it from the roots as he drags her on board.
A shallow breath eases out of me, turning to iron. A hunger I haven’t felt before surges, and my fingers twitch—otherworldly power sparking.
Serun squeezes my hand.
“Problem?” he asks.
“No. I’m fine,” I say dismissively, my leather boots hitting the steel of the carriage floor as the doors close behind me.
Tearing my focus from him, I quickly sweep the room. Black leather seats, deep blue finishes, and matching sliding doors on the opposite side of the carriage.
Serun’s deep red eyes soften, and I know he always knows, but before I can say anything, the train shudders and my legs wobble. I lean to the side, stumbling, but before I can fall, I grip his shadowed coat. “What’s happening?” I demand. “Is it broken?”
Serun’s hand rests on my hip, claws scraping against the cotton skirt. “It’s a train. They shake and rattle a lot.”
“No,” I say firmly. “I’m getting off and walking to the Undercity.”
The train jolts and I push away from him. My legs buckle, and as I fall, he grabs my wrist. Shadows peel away from his face to reveal a wicked broadening grin.
“Am I humorous to you, nightwalker?”
“A little, yes,” Serun says as he pulls me into him. Then, just as I’m almost resting fully against him, his hold slackens, and he takes a quick step away. “You should hold on to something unless you want me to keep catching you.”
A wave of heat flushes my cheeks. Clearing my throat and stripping away the thought of his hand on my waist, I look out the window. Darkness falls so suddenly that I flutter my lashes. All thoughts of Serun flee, because what I see is far more fucking important than him.
A shallow breath hisses out as I lean closer and grip the metal railing near the exit. We are in a translucent tunnel underneath the moonlit ocean. Bubbles press against the tunnel wall, swirling with the pressure.
“What is this…”
Scales come into focus, shiny and obsidian, and I step back with a gasp at the sight of red eyes.
The snake-like creature looks at us as though observing a rock.
Can it see us? Before I can think too deeply on it, the creature turns away and sinks deeper into the ocean, a whining cry coming from it, as if in pain.
“That is experiment zero-one. The white coats’ first failed experiment.”