Kael took one seat in front of the tuft and turned around. It wasn’t Oloro. As the train came to a stop, thirty miles outside of Il Porta in Huvais, Oloro was nowhere to be found. The new gray-haired man, sleeping and appropriately aged didn’t look like Oloro at all. Even his hair was whiter, thinner. Kael gave a worrying glance back to the compartment door where Zagan now stood, nose brushing the glass and breath fogging it. Their powers rebuffed on that very line, both Syches vying for control.
The assassins weren’t coming in, at least for now. Moving to the next car, boxing the group in, would mean traveling through Kael’s bubble. Either the risk was too large or they didn’t feel like Kael’s group could get away regardless. Perhaps Kael really was a fish on a hook, but as long as the assassins thought Oloro was present, that rod had no reel.
Joshua sat next to the fake Oloro, Gianna besides him. Across the isle Bartholomew and Emilie squirmed nervously, not daring to see if the assassins were coming for them.
With his hands in his lap, Joshua signed and Kael responded “all clear for now.”
Back at the connecting compartment Zagan disappeared with a snarl as the bruised man kept watch.
“Don’t let him move,” Kael signed—terrified of waking the Oloro stand-in. “And don’t let him stand up. He barely passes for Oloro with a quarter inch of his head showing.
Joshua gave a thumbs up while Gianna signed in the affirmative.
Kael caught the attention of Bartholomew across the aisle. “Where are we taking you, and for the love of the Goddess, how will it help us.?”
“Tallest building. Floor 57. Weapon.” Bartholomew was tense, distracted in his answers.
But informative.
“Something that kills Syches?” Kael signed, only to be met with a confused look from Bartholomew. Of course, Syche wasn’t in the RUS dictionary. ‘Syche’ was just a sign that Joshua and he had invented. Kael paused, approached it like playing a word game back home around the hearth: “Something that kills those with powers?”
A sign of surprise. Then Bartholomew made a sign that Kael had never seen by lowering his fourth finger. “Those.” The man smiled. “It will break them.”
“And you couldn’t have used this before? When they captured you?”
“They want the weapon. I could have dealt with the dozen Syches that captured me that day, but to what end? The next time it would be the self-titled Dark Lord or the Monstrosity. So I hid it.”
Joshua spoke, actually out loud. “Yo, we’ve got dark lords now?
Kael groaned as the sleeping elderly man creaked awake. One eye peeked at Joshua, and then he settled back into a restful, if not more annoyed, sleep.
“More importantly,” Kael resumed his singing. “It seems like you know a lot more about the Dark Element than you told us. Things you should have said.”
“Trust is earned.” Bartholomew signed aggressively. “You keep your own secrets for the very same reason. Just get me to the tower, to the 57th floor, and I’ll answer your questions.”
Not a satisfying conversation. Kael lowered himself into his seat feeling more and more disconcerted. There was a frantic stress buzzing in his chest, a stress that was being exacerbated by the thin line of pressure in his frontal lobe as his bubble clashed with the assassin’s next door. When was the last time in his life he hadn’t been the apex Syche? When was the last time they were so out of their depth that he couldn’t rely on Joshua know what was going on. Yet in a single hour, he had been trounced by Oloro, and now Bartholomew, weak, mewling, damsel-in-distress Bartholomew had the power.
Kael’s control on everything was slipping and for the first time since the death of his mother, he felt small.
He swiveled to his knees to see his brother. “You alright?”
Joshua nodded nervously, responded silently. “I’m a tad frayed, but as long as I have a next step to focus on, I can keep it together. Working on how to get Bartholomew to the tower.”
Kael subtly shifted his body, hiding his hands. “Are we sure we want to? What if we cut him out of the proverbial deal?”
Kael expected an outright dismissal, a diatribe on heroism and honor, but Joshua only slowly nodded before speaking: “He’s been acting weird.”
“Next stop: Lesiyua,” the metallic voice of the speakers announced as the train slowed.
The old man in the seat next to Joshua stirred, rolling his rickety neck. He braced himself to stand and Joshua flung and arm across his chest, forcing him down.
“Get off me!”
“Sir, we need you—”
“I say, leave me in peace.”
Gianna teetered, wavering back and forth between helping and not wanting to touch either of them.
“It’s very important that you—” Joshua was trying to say.
“Sir,” Kael interjected, “We will pay you to get off at the next stop. Il Porta is close to Lesu-whatever. We will make it worth your time.
“Last call: Lesiyua”
“Help! Conductor! Police! County! I am being accost—”
Joshua’s hand sprung up and covered the old man’s man; followed quickly by Joshua yalping as the elderly gentlemen’s teeth clamped down into Joshua’s hand.
To Joshua’s credit, he didn’t remove his hand, stifling the pain with a deep guttural sound that escape the recesses of his throat.
“I know what you’re going to say,” Gianna started, “but can I please kill him?”
Someone nearby started screaming for a County now. Stupid girl, why say that out loud?
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The train jerked and started to move. “See?” Kael asked. “Just settle down and we’ll pay you! We’ll make it worth your while.” Kael looked up to where the assassin had been stationed, and the lookout had vanished.
“Ah, crap. They know Joshua, get your hand out of that man’s mouth.”
Joshua finally cried out loud, removing his bloody hand and shaking it out, splattering red droplets like an out of control sprinkler. “I think he hit bone.”
“J. They’re coming.”
“Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.” Joshua stood up, looked around. “Escape plan 3A!”
This isn’t the time for jokes!” Kael cried, jumping into the aisle. Kael’s palms smacked the well tread, dirty carpet. A spark of energy shot to each wall, and they sprinted upwards, finally meeting directly above Kael’s hands on the room.
The energy formed a perfect rectangle through the train car’s bones.
And then it exploded. Only slightly, but enough to lurch floor and bisect the car.
Zagan’s mug appeared on the other side of the compartment window as he manically smashed the button on the compartment’s door.
Where Kael had cut the car in two, the train began to separate, showing the tracks below and the sky above. A rush of wind squeezed through and formed a vortex in that confused spot.
Whether Zagan comprehended the orchestrated chaos, Kael didn’t know, but the giant barged forward all the same.
Kael lurched to the left and grabbed a book the nearest occupant held paused, watching stunned at what happened to his transport. Kael infused the novel with as much Sychakenetic energy he could and lobbed it. Zagan dove under the explosion from the book-turned-fireball. The missile hit the bald assassin in the chest sending him shrieking into the next car. The gun the bald man held dropped to the ground and slid through the gap—a dangerous tool against Kael if he was caught off guard.
Picking himself off the ground, his teeth barred with even more fury, Zagan sprang forward at Kael, but in his rage he must not have noticed the ever-widening gap. His foot caught the opening and as his body began to twist corkscrew through the gap, the woman in Zagan’s party sprung forward and pulled a knot of his robes into her hands. An electric blue of electricity fizzled over her body and wrought havoc on the lights as she hefted Zagan’s massive weight back onto solid ground with superhuman strength.
Kael threw a purse he found on the luggage rack. Zagan opted for a thin shield of blood this time to rebuff the attack. Kael danced left and right grabbing what he could to overwhelm the giant, but the barrier wouldn't break and he was running out of convenient projectiles.
The two halves of the train car were coming apart substantially now. He didn’t need to beat Zagan now, he just needed a little more space.
Kael looked over his shoulder, ready to call for help but Gianna was already there, arms laden with shoes. The rest of the passengers on their side were fleeing into the next compartments—many missing shoes. What civilians were left on Zagan’s side of the split were out of luck, curled into their seats, and pressed against the windows in fetal positions. But with shoes.
Zagan whipped a crystallized projectile at Kael like he had before, and Kael avoided it easily enough as he had before. The arrowhead of blood dug into the floor somewhere behind. Learning his lesson though, Kael signed for Gianna who pounced on it like a live grenade. She igniting the shoe and not only blew it up, but punched a hole through the car’s belly. The Scyhakentic hole Zagan had punched in Kael’s bubble was still there, but material he could control on their side was gone; and, he was out that much blood.
Kael shouted to Gianna, over the growing roar of the wind: “Keep doing that. I’ll handle the rest.”
Across the gap, Zagan was screaming at his own people, and what he was planning became immediately clear. Zagan’s crew had their arms outstretched and blood pooled from their skin, freely given. Kael backed off, expecting pogrom but instead the projected blood formed a tether and slammed down into the floor of their car before solidifying. Zagan outstretched his hand, and the two cars began to pull back together.
Kael panicked. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He frantically kicked at an arm rest and wrenched it from it’s chair. This new projectile found it’s mark in the middle of the tether, blowing the bloody rope in two and forcing the car’s apart with further force.
The volleys and returns followed in quick succession. The female Lightning Syche made several attempts to jump the gap, but every time she charged forward, a well place lob of a shoe or piece of jewelry kept her at back.
That was Joshua’s presence in the foray. Kael didn’t have the time to spare a glance behind, but knew Joshua was present as a stash of odds that could be easily thrown piled up in the seat next to him.
A hot, searing pain cut across his abdomen, and Kael stumbled back, feeling his side. A sliver of crystalline blood had got him. He moved back further, and as Gianna destroyed it with another shoe, they swapped positions. Now she was in front conducting the volleys, battering away the tethers. Certainly no worse a dancer than Kael
But maybe dance wasn’t the best word, this was the Syche version of a slap fight.
And, the tension was lowering. Zagan’s car was lagging hard. Given the length of the duel, Kael had to wonder if they had a metal Syche pushing them along the best they could.
Gianna being in front also gave Kael time for a deep breath and the first good look he had at their surroundings. The country side was long gone. They had left the suburbs at the last stop. Now, they were over elevated tracks right through downtown Il Porta. Skyscrapers lumbered over there on each side of the gap, cars beeped below, and plenty of pedestrians stopped and pointed at the—what had to look like jerry-rigged-- train hobbling to it’s final port of call.
And the police were weaving through traffic, sirens ablaze trying to keep pace with the train.
Right then. Right when Kael thought their car had pulled away for good and the attacks had died down to the occasional sniping, the two severed cars began to converge. It wasn’t that Zagan was speeding up, Kael realized that their car was slowing down.
As the light from the outside dimmed, the room of the station formed overhead. Police would be charging into the central station and arrests would be happening in any other sand situation, but police interference was the least of Kael’s worries right now.
“Josh!” Kael shouted back, finding his brother scurrying about the back of the car. “Get Bartholomew to where he needs to go. I’ll deal with the big guy. Meet me at the usual place.” Where Bartholomew and Emilie had gone, Kael didn’t know, but that was something for Joshua to figure out. If Kael could deal with Zagan, his brother could deal with the small fries.
Kael pulled a heavy suitcase down and twirled it like a shot put, sending it spiraling and brimming with energy as Zagan’s car approached. Zagan had the good sense to knock it out of the air with a thrust of blood, causing the explosion to erupt between the two cars. In the lapse of vision, Kael jumped forward into the gap and the smoke. Midair, he attempted the trick that got him onto the crabber the day before; it couldn’t be the day before could it? The air burned under his feet and he was pushed up and over, directly on the roof of Zagan’s car.
Kael didn’t know what he was expecting as he attempted to swing around and ambush Zagan from behind, but he didn’t expect to see Zagan right away. Hearing a violent grunt, Kael looked behind and saw Zagan crawling his way onto the roof like a feral mountain lion.
He snapped himself up just as the two cars crashed together with a rending groan.
“Already alone,” Kael paused as he ran atop the stopping train with Zagan pounding the sheet metal behind. “The plan’s already working.”
###
Joshua pushed through the crowd pouring onto the platform with screams and cries of distress. Gianna was on his heels and somewhere on her heels was the rest of Zagan’s men. They moved fast, but not too fast to be suspicious, forcibly squeezing past the crowed when needed—an act that brought cries of distress from Gianna.
Not dressed in the black robes of murders, they slipped through the incoming storm of police with the rest of the crowd. Joshua ducked his head all the same, finding the knot of his shoe lacing suddenly interesting out of habit.
All that was left was to find Bartholomew and Emilie. That and get to the tallest building in the city.
“Where is the usual spot?” Gianna asked in between breaths, as they emerged out of the station—Joshua now craning his head around like a long-necked antelope.
“That means we meet up at the same spot that we split up,” Joshua answered. “Or a close approximation. Feel it out.”

