Chapter Two
Avelina
The train ride was meant to take four days.
They left the capital city before noon on the first day, making all the cabins stuffy.
Maybe it’s not just the air. But sitting in a steel can on wheels, fueled by steam, made any poor individual in more than one layer miserable.
Avelina’s sweat drenched down to her chemise.
Her father refused to let her leave in one of the sundresses she loved and definitely wouldn’t let her at least lounge in breathable cotton pants.
Thankfully, the sky darkened and rain rushed over the top of the train, cooling it off.
That, and her father tucked himself into his section of the cabin and drew the curtain.
He can’t even stand to look at me for the week.
Which was fine enough with her, because the moment his snores filled the cabin, she stripped down to the under dress and curled up on her seat.
Sweat that collected at the base of her spine finally cooled and left her shivering as she lit a small lantern.
She turned to use her body as a shield so that it wouldn’t reach her father behind the curtain.
Finally alone and free of his restraints, she spent three hours reading.
If she was going to be shackled to some slack jawed paladin with the personality of a brick wall, she wasn’t going to do it without finishing the latest novel by Julianna Yyvette.
It was an enemies to lovers novel set in the Chroma Coast, where one owns a bed and breakfast and the other is a struggling artist trying to find their muse.
They were stuck in one of the cabanas together during a horrid storm that washed out the road, and they had to make it several days without killing or kissing the other.
Highly entertaining and delightful, the kind of romance Avelina always dreamed would find her… but alas, skipped over her entirely.
Instead, she was more like the poor princess that’s talked about by the heroine. The one used as a reminder that the heroine could have it worse.
As the hours clicked by with the repetitive noise of the train wheels rushing over the tracks, she lost herself in another life.
Tala would like this one. She prefers when the two are at each other’s throats.
She would have sent her best friend a message to discuss where she was, but that would wake her father.
Instead, she left little notes in the margins to tell Tala later.
When she finished, she lay there, staring at the blank, back page almost praying for the book to take her with it.
Is that what your heart yearns for? Freedom from these iron chains?
Avelina froze, perking her ears to source where the voice came from.
She was so used to the angry wasps that were her intrusive thoughts that she almost ignored it.
Then it slowly dawned on her that the voice was distinctly not hers.
It wasn’t Tala’s, and it definitely wasn’t her father’s.
She pushed up on her elbows and searched the dim cabin.
Shadows danced behind the curtain as the rain slapped against the windows harder.
The rattle of thunder clapping over their heads made the rhythm of the train feel off, like it was a second or too off key or out of step.
A cold shiver raced her spine as she saw a larger shadow stand up behind the curtain.
A tall figure draped in dark fabric. Their arms were down, far longer than they should be with fingers like skinny daggers.
The sound of them dragging in breaths through rotten lungs made her blood run cold.
Her eyes widened, stuck to the spot on the curtain where the figure reached out to the edge of the fabric.
No. No, please, don’t open it. No, please, don’t come in here.
She wanted to scream. To peel out of her very skin and scramble out into the hallway.
Her lungs clenched up tight and she couldn’t breathe while the figure wheezed harder.
Cold, knobby fingers wrapped around the curtain, and she could see the bones through the gray, translucent flesh.
Rotten nails filled the cabin with the stench of death.
Her lantern teetered off the seat, the rock of the train was enough to finally send it to the floor.
Avelina’s body reacted on impulse. She snatched up the lantern and extinguished it instantly.
The curtain ripped back, and to her relief, her father stood behind it.
He huffed in the dark, not even acknowledging her as he opened the cabin door and stomped into the hall.
She heard his armor clinking the whole way down to the bathrooms aboard the train.
She let out a breath of relief but couldn’t stop the trembling of her body as she got to her feet.
The lights from the hall finally pierced into their cabin and there was no room for any ghosts to hide.
She even swatted at the curtain a few times to make sure.
When she was properly satisfied it was a cruel play of the light, she tucked her lantern into her bag along with her smuggled romance book.
Her father found her under a blanket, curled with her back to the rest of the cabin.
But she never did fall asleep…not completely. The prickling feeling stayed with her the whole time.
“Sit up straight, Avelina. Slouching is poor manners,” Everest chided again.
Avelina didn’t retort, didn’t look up from her porridge mixture.
She straightened her spine and carefully brought another spoonful of sludge to her mouth.
While everyone else dined on luxurious roasted meats and seedy bread covered in butter, she opted for the safe option.
Porridge with a drizzle of honey. Again.
It was enough to stick to her ribs, but not enough to upset her twisted guts.
After two nights of fitful tossing and turning, she was a husk of a person.
Every step she took on the train forced her to hesitate, searching for a shadowy figure lurking in someone else’s cabin.
She’d spent three days desperately wanting to talk to Tala and finding nowhere quiet to do so.
If she wasn’t shackled to her father’s side in the cabin, she was stuck in crowded facilities within the train. It was…exhausting.
The dining car was no different. A room full of boisterous, grating talk. “Did you hear about that theft that happened in Irongarde?”
“I heard there was a gunslinger! She killed all of them!”
“Bah! Such violence isn’t good for the children to hear.”
“I heard there was some mad woman atop a nightmare trampling a poor sod just trying to turn in his cattle.”
Avelina didn’t listen to most of it, tuning it out like the rattling of the train wheels and the tink, tink, tink of rain against all the windows.
The storm didn’t clear by morning. Glancing out the glass panes, she stared out at endless grassland drenched in inky oblivion. She let out a pained sigh.
As they rounded some sort of bend, lightning split the sky once more.
The tall grass, bullied by the rain, seemed to part around a figure standing in the middle of the field.
It was a split second. She only caught a glimpse, but it spiked her blood.
Avelina threw herself out of her seat and rammed her back into one of the staff.
She gasped, spinning to apologize profusely.
The furious glare from the goblin woman manning the meal cart stopped her in her tracks.
“Avelina! What has come over you?” her father snapped.
She couldn’t explain the rapid thump, thump, thump of her heart against her throat. Sliding down to her seat, she trembled down into her boots as her eyes chanced a second look out of the window.
A woman in an all-black shroud made of ripped lace, stood in that field with her arms out. She was basically skin and bones, her lips sewn shut and black holes for eyes, her mourning shroud held up by a crown of bones.
No, that’s not possible.
“My apologies, Father.” She licked her lips, returning to her porridge but the taste was worse than before…it tasted like ash. And so, Avelina sat back in her chair, staring deep into the sludge within her bowl, and waited for her father to finish his meal.
Maybe it’s best if we go back to Parandor. I’m starting to go mad. Maybe instead of being wed, he’ll throw me into the brig instead. I think I’m seeing things…
Avelina settled into her cushion for the fourth day of their journey, happy to have her father pull down the curtains over the windows in hopes of blocking out the lightning.
It was actually soothing to sit there and listen to another sermon out of the book of The Last Pheonix.
It was something she knew well, something she could anticipate and count on.
The words never changed. They weren’t full of haunted faces or women in a thunderstorm.
Hands folded in her lap, eyes closed, she listened to her father as if in prayer. Taking a deep breath in, she let the steady pull and push of the train lull her into a sense of security. Click, clack, push, pull, tink, tink, tink, it was a pattern.
Click. Clack. Push. Pull. Tink. Tink…hissssss.
She furrowed her brows as the train lurched more than usual.
It was a momentary thing. Like they’d hit the brakes a little.
It upset her stomach again as the whole car jostled.
The sounds of people chasing to catch things falling off shelves were muffled behind the door.
They grew louder when the train lurched again.
Then a third time and her father threw out an arm.