Prologue


The train was utterly silent. Most of the other passengers were asleep, slouched against the windows or each other. Triela, however, was wide awake and watching every face with raw nerves, as if the elderly man down the aisle might suddenly leap up and draw a submachine gun on her.

Beside her sat Hillshire, his arms folded and his expression showing that his mind was somewhere else entirely. Every now and then, the motion of the train would cause their shoulders to bump, and he would move a little in the opposite direction. He was obviously exhausted. This may have been because it was three o'clock in the morning, but Triela knew better. He had been wearing down for weeks. She watched the circles under his eyes slowly grow, as he fought to be more and more vigilant of some threat she couldn't perceive and yet his eyelids drooped more and more with each days, his powerful shoulders slumping.

It unnerved her to see him so tired, but he had told her to be alert for any signs of trouble, so she had to cast the worry out of her mind and focus on their surroundings. Only a few miles were left to go until the next station. She could make it that far.

A man at the end of their compartment stretched, yawning slightly, and Triela's muscles jumped with adrenaline. She didn't know what she was looking for, or why, and that was what really put her ill at ease. Hillshire hadn't said anything before they left, simply that there was an urgent mission he couldn't discuss until they arrived at their destination, and she should pack for as much as a week, but nothing more than she could easily carry. Such brisk and vague instructions were foreign to the Hillshire she knew.

The train whistle shrilled, signaling the station up ahead, and Hillshire sat fully upright, putting a hand on Triela's arm. "Get your things ready. When we leave the train, keep your head down. Don't make eye contact with anyone, don't speak to anyone, and do not stop for anything. Just follow me. Understand?"

Though she frowned, Triela nodded. "Hillshire, do they know we're coming? Are they watching the train station?"

"Sh. Don't talk like that here." Hillshire glanced around cautiously. "Just follow me."

After a moment, "Of course, sir."

"...And don't call me 'sir'. It's 'Victor', until we're alone."

"All right."

Hillshire stood, and Triela pursed her lips. I want to know what he's hiding from me. Keeping secrets about this mission is only going to make it more dangerous.

The doors opened. Hillshire hurried out of the train without a word, and Triela leapt up to follow him into the early morning darkness.