Blood Runner: Book Three of the Empress Saga

CHAPTER SIX

Krayson listened to the rattling of the tracks beneath his feet. With his eyes closed, he focused. Breathe. Concentrate. Maintain the ward. Someone might sense him locking the spell, and being noticed was the last thing he wanted.

    He sat alone in a compartment within the seventh car. The late morning train that ran between the palace's Evermist Station and Westrun Gate had few passengers. Aside from a handful of train yard crewmen and farmhands on their way to Westrun's botanical towers, there weren't many others aboard the train.

    The tracks ran on the seventieth level, the highest elevated rail line in the city. Out of concerns for safety and the passengers' comfort, the Westrun train took an easy pace. It would be another hour before Krayson reached his destination.

    After the attack on the throne room, Captain Falar and Princess Maya escorted Krayson to a lower level of the central spire. He was taken to a suite maintained for the Order, where he was able to equip himself in a manner appropriate for a blood runner.

    The dark red half-robe he now wore was slightly too large, its fabric new and unweathered. The coat, shirt, and trousers beneath it, however, were finely made and fit as if they'd been tailored for him. They felt good on his skin, freshly bathed. Krayson hadn't cared about Maya's impatience as he washed the weeks of prison filth from his body, nor did he hesitate to feed himself more properly before leaving the Palace of Towers.

    It had been an uncomfortable meal. Maya watched him eat while Falar left to begin looking into the attack. Krayson thought he must have impressed upon the princess just how much food a blood runner could pack away.

    His stores had been low. Ether could sustain a blood runner in lieu of food and water, but it wasn't an eternal wellspring. His body had been ravaged by the weeks of neglect, and eating enough to feed an orc clan was only the first step in repairing the damage it had done to him.

    When Falar returned, Krayson was cleaned, dressed, and had eaten his fill. He was then taken straight to the train station.

    And so, Krayson found himself aboard a train leaving the heart of the city. His concentration was fully engaged in maintaining a ward around his compartment. His hope was that the spell would at least partially conceal the bloodsong he carried.

    The door to his compartment slid open. Krayson tensed and prepared to speak an incantation at a moment's notice. His witch sight traced over the pair of men.

    The one in front was a daanman. No wisps of ether leaked from his body that Krayson's eyes could see. The other hadn't sold his ether, but the traces of magic in his body were weak and all but atrophied. Not a daanman, but Krayson could tell that he'd never attempted to cast a spell. The ether he carried was unfocused. Wild. It hadn't been tethered to one of the five pathways.

    The men looked into the compartment, stood in place, then shut the door before moving on. Neither looked Krayson's way or otherwise acknowledged his presence. Krayson let out a shallow breath. His spell was working as intended.

    Those who came within its boundary would feel a vague sense that what they needed was elsewhere. It also kept Krayson from registering in their consciousness. A tricky spell, but one within his capabilities.

    Such precautions were necessary. Even a daanman wouldn't be blind to the bloodsong forever. Arcanists and those more attuned to the Ethereum would sense it sooner and from a greater distance. Krayson wouldn't breathe easy until he was within the Sanguine Tower.

    Outside his compartment's window, the mists that cloaked the Spired City began to thin. Mist was rarely so thick at this altitude as on the lower levels, and even less so in Westrun. Many of this district's spires had moisture-repelling sigils carved into them. The practice kept the skies more or less clear and allowed sunlight to reach the rooftops and greenhouses where much of the City of Althandor's produce was grown.