The squeaking of the wheels on the rails accompanied Cora's sleep. Tired after an afternoon of waiting for departure, he was crouched on the seat of the Silver Bullet. The train to Boros went through the tunnel, completing the descent of the mountain. The hot and humid wind penetrated through the cracks in the window.
Marmorel had been buried in a book all evening, and Fez was playing with a bolt. It seemed as if the events of the Grand Prix had never happened, or were something to forget. Cora shook his head: let them do what they wanted, he just wanted them to stay calm.
"We're about to arrive, wake up the others," Elidana muttered sleepily, the sun's rays bouncing off her face.
Cora nodded and mumbled "okay" before turning around. "Aran, come on..." he said, but Aran was already awake and gently stroked Marmorel's side shoulder. "We have to go," he whispered.
Cora tapped Fez's legs, causing them to fall from the armrest. He looked back at the crop fields. That journey had been too short. He had learned something about Ethan, but it wasn't enough: he wanted to return to Edel as soon as possible, the wait would be hard to digest.
The others were ready and had already prepared their luggage in the middle of the aisle. Cora stood up and noticed with pleasure that the rest of the passengers were also dazed.
He grabbed his bag and lifted it up. It wasn't as heavy on the way there. He had left Lud with just a few clothes and was now carrying Seorite. He sighed at the thought of the only spare shirt left at the hotel. But if the plan worked, he could buy five, no... ten.
The most complicated part had been dissuading Elidana, who was more stubborn than ever,not to inform about the new abilities of the Great Jalme to the Lud City Council, at least until they had recharged the stones.
"Aran, do you think they'll stop us?" Cora asked.
"Try not to draw attention to yourselves, behave normally. After all, it's just Seorite exahusted," said Aran seriously.
Fez nodded vigorously, but when he lifted Marmorel's bulky suitcase, the sound of stones clattering echoed throughout the carriage.
Aran looked at him disapprovingly. "Damn it, Fez..."
"Sorry, but it's a boulder," the boy added as he tried to find a more stable arrangement.
"Attention: the train is about to arrive at Boros port. Passengers are requested to get off at the station for connections," the voice from the loudspeaker announced.
Once the Silver Bullet came to a stop, the doors opened and a stream of people flowed orderly onto the platform.
Cora pointed to the sign that read "Clodia" next to a nearby train.
"I want to go home as soon as possible," Marmorel snapped, carrying Fez's much lighter and more manageable luggage.
They proceeded through the separate line that led to both the exit and other trains. In both cases, three Kharzanian soldiers assigned to passenger control awaited them, two of whom were embracing a heavy rifle.
"Are you carrying Kharzanian objects or technologies, gentlemen?" asked the soldier in a mechanical tone. He must have repeated that phrase countless times.
"No. Just a piggy bank that we'll exchange in Clodia," Aran replied quietly.
"Are you carrying undeclared Seorite?" the soldier continued, eyeing Aran and Fez's residence permits.
"No, I don't think so," said the boy. "Wait a minute, maybe I do have something. It's the watch my father gave me." Aran showed his wrist. "You can keep it, no problem." The soldier analyzed Aran with a slim black bracket on which green lights were flashing. As soon as the instrument touched his body, the lights turned red and an annoying alarm started ringing. A flash of panic filled the eyes of the five young people and turned into terror at the first murmurs of the people waiting behind them. The armed guards tightened their grip on their rifles and approached threateningly.
"Mr. Aran Allet, kindly leave your luggage on the ground and take a step back."
"Hey, I told you I have nothing on me!" repeated Aran loudly, as the physical search began.
Fez, Cora, and Marmorel turned crimson and didn't move a finger. Elidana, on the other hand, frowned and walked towards her friend.
"Miss, stay back," one of the armed soldiers ordered her.
She ignored him. "Stupid, you still have Mansell's ticket on you," Elidana said.
Aran smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. He pointed his pocket. "May I?" He drew out the object very carefully and handed it to the soldier with the same grace. "I'm sorry, I didn't remember I had it with me."
The soldier carefully examined the business card, folded it during the check, and swipe it over the black stick. "You should know that you can't carry unauthorized technology out of the borders," he explained. "The watch on your wrist is old, but this object is not."
"I'm sorry. I didn't notice it... but," Aran gestured to turn the ticket over, "can't you make an exception? There's an autograph from Losh Gani and I really want to take it home," he concluded anxiously.
The guard switched his gaze between the ticket and Aran's face. He suppressed a smile, asked a fellow soldier to pass him the service knife, and cut off the edges of the piece of paper. "Here, keep it." He had removed the signaling system, leaving the pilot's autograph intact. Aran gave an embarrassed smile. "Thank you!"
"You're welcome! I'm from Jalla and this year I was really disappointed. But Xanter Roha surpassed everyone. In the end, the thing that really matters is the number of laps."
Aran moved on and once he stepped on the train, he wiped the sweat from his forehead. After the checks to the others also came back negative, they looked for a wagon with empty seats."
They dismissed the first two and, when they entered the third, Aran stopped next to a couple of available seats. "Cora, let's sit here." Elidana and Marmorel sat next to them and placed their luggage under their seats. Fez, having trouble fitting Marmorel's bagage into the designated space, decided to place it on the seat behind Cora.
After a few minutes, the train departed: the intense screeching of the Seorite made them long for the background music of the Silver Bullet and even the subdued noises of Edel. Like on the first journey, the train boarded the ship that would cross the Sea of Beiram towards Orielm.
"I think it's time to figure out what to do," said Cora, and Fez stretched his head from behind the seats.
"Okay, we need to find a place to hide the stones..."
"The orphanage is out of the question: with the children and Mrs. Flint everywhere, I can't do much," said Cora, scratching his head.
"It would be a problem at my house too. My mother would start asking to many questions," added Fez, propping up the suitcase with a bolt.
"If we have no other alternatives, let's keep everything at my place. We'll put the stones in my room and take them out one at a time," concluded Aran with a pensive expression. "Every afternoon, you and Elidana will come to my house to bury the Seorite at the Grand Jalme."
"Great idea," nodded Cora.
"In the morning, Fez and Marmorel will retrieve it," continued Aran, "hoping everything goes smoothly."
"Me and Marmorel?" asked Fez.
"Yes, you and Marmorel. I won't be able to leave the house, I'll have to make sure no one touches the stones."
"Is that all?" asked Cora.
Aran nodded. "I expected something else!"
"Sometimes a simple plan can be the most brilliant. Let's not complicate things," he said.
Cora relaxed in his seat. "When do you think we'll be back?"
"I want to leave as soon as we sale all the stones. I think two weeks will be enough, but we have to be smart about not getting caught."
"Two weeks..." Cora whispered, looking up at the ceiling. He hoped they could return earlier, but he would make it work.
The train landed in Orielm and continued on the track that crossed the city. A slow start, accompanied by the stench of the sewer. Fez stood up. "I'm hungry. I'm going to get some food. Do you want anything?"
Cora shook his head but quickly changed his mind. "See if you can find anything about the race." He wasn't in the mood to read, but it would help pass the time. Fez nodded and ran off. He returned a few minutes later with his mouth covered in powdered sugar and a Kharzanian daily newspaper: National Chronicle. "It's full of articles about the Grand Prix!" he started, giving the newspaper to his friend.
In a photo that filled half of the front page, there was Xanter Roha's smiling face, and the headline of the article read: "Thirty laps for the future, the golden shadow of Edel's wings becomes the path to follow."
Aran leaned forward and the three of them started reading. The text described Xanter's sudden victory, followed by a brief list of his military successes.
"Academy with top achivments, one of the best users of battle armor in his generation: where did this guy come from?" Aran asked, flipping through the pages.
"Maybe the journalists exaggerated," Cora replied. "But it has to be said that he did a great job. It was really exciting. Although I can't explain why he stopped."
"Well, I think it was a team strategy. Once Laratt slowed down on his own to make more laps, as soon as Xanter started up again and overtook him, to regain the lead Laratt had to waste a lot of Seorite. Whoever managed the Edel Wings' tactics was really good," Aran replied. "I'm glad that jerk Laratt didn't win," he added, turning to Fez.
"We haven't talked about it anymore, how are you?" Cora asked.
"I have forgotten about it," Fez replied in a subdued tone, shrugging his shoulders.
"These are the Khazarnian people I can't stand," Aran continued. "Damn military people who think everything can be solved with cannon fire."
Cora took a deep breath and signaled for Aran to keep reading. As the train crossed the farmed plain, a strong smell of fertilizer soil entered the carriage. Fez stood up disgusted.
The comments from the higher-ups in Edel emphasized the technological capabilities achieved: there was a detailed explanation of this year's vaasp implements signed by the Director of Research and Development, Dr. Ermet Laur. Aran handed the newspaper to Cora, who continued to read the other news waiting to arrive in Clodia.
In addition to the race, there were some articles on the health of Ernest Dreed, the Supreme General of Kharzan. Cora flipped through until he jerked. He approached the newspaper and reread the title of that article carefully. "But what-" he muttered. White-faced, he grabbed Aran's shoulder.
"Did you see a ghost?" the blond asked. "Cora, what's wrong? Why are you making that face?" he asked, concerned.
Without speaking, Cora simply raised the newspaper to show him the article: "Lamia citizenry ablaze!" Aran frowned and snatched it from his hands, Fez looked over.
The support of the intrepid Kharzanian soldiers was of no use in extinguishing the fire: the millennial tree of Lud, the Great Jalme, is now destroyed, and the entire population of the town has succumbed to the flames. The number of victims is unknown, but the only certainty is that there are no survivors two days after the incident. The Senate of Clodia has set up a search team.
The most credible hypotheses involve five local boys, including a Zalesian, probably a rebel separatist, belonging to an unknown terrorist group led by an Hozman spy.
It is supposed that they have laid their hands on a significant reserve of Seorite departing for the Empire of Hozma. In these days, the Kharzanian government will send a contingent of soldiers to support the Order of the Knights of Lamia to continue the search.
From Aran's mouth, not a single breath came out, Cora didn't react, and Fez had his eyes wide open on the article.
Marmorel turned to them with a smile on her face. "The golden fields of Orielm look a lot like one of the paintings my grandfather keeps in the library," the girl said, but no one replied. "Well, have you guys been struck dumb?" She gave Elidana a small nudge. "They look like statues," she finally murmured.
Cora exchanged a brief glance with the latter and shook his head.
"What happened?" she asked peremptorily. The young man handed her the newspaper with a trembling hand.
Standing in the middle of the aisle, Elidana read the article carefully. Her eyes became teary. She collapsed to her knees, rubbing the pages between her legs.
"So... why the long faces, if it's a bad taste joke, I'll get angry," Marmorel hissed, taking the newspaper.
"City on fire... survivors and terrorists sought." There was a long pause before realization set in. Marmorel kept her eyes fixed on the landscape beside her. She closed her eyes and slumped in her seat.
"They're dead," Fez wailed.
"It must be a mistaken. Let's stay calm until we get home," Aran whispered, approaching Elidana to help her get back in her seat.
"Mrs. Flint, the children," Cora said, his face in his hands and a lump in his throat. The image of the orphanage, the woman who had raised him, and all the little ones she had taken in with her kind heart, burned in his thoughts. The world as he knew it shattered into a thousand pieces. He didn't want to open his eyes, it had to be just a bad dream, he was sure of it.
Aran approached him and slapped him. "Hey, I need you. Don't abandon me now," he glanced at the distant passengers. "Focus. We need to assess the situation first. From what I've read, they're looking for us. They must have identified the Seorite we're transporting. Just tell the truth and everything will be okay. Our parents and Mrs. Flint must have escaped the fire, I'm sure of it." Aran spoke without taking a breath.
Fez had a lost look in his eyes, swallowing tears between sobs.
"Look at them, Cora! Look at them! They need us. Please, keep calm because if you lose it too, I can't handle them alone."
Cora nodded uncertainly and wiped away his tears.
The longest two hours of his life passed, and Cora made sure to help both Fez and Elidana, trying to reassure them. Eventually, a man and a woman entered the carriage, led by the conductor. They were dressed like Edel citizens; as they walked past, a shiver of terror ran up Cora's spine. But they exchanged a few words and retraced their steps without meeting their gaze.
"How's it going?" Aran whispered when he returned to his seat.
"A little better. Marmorel is sleeping. Did you find out anything?" His voice was grim.
"The timing of our departure coincides with the fire a few days ago. They didn't discover us in Boros by pure chance and certainly didn't expect us to be in Edel," Aran replied, speaking even more quickly.
"What does that mean? How did they find out we have the Seorite?"
"I don't think they know. They would have stopped us without any problems before getting on the train. They're looking for a big shipment and not just a few stones."
"Damn it! What situation have we gotten ourselves into?" Cora exclaimed, but Aran put a hand on his arm and squeezed tightly. "Listen, it says here that an Hozman is involved and that we're part of a group of terrorists."
"Why us?" "I don't know. They may have interrogated the merchant I sold the necklace to, or that dealer who traveled with our caravan may have blabbed about the journey and mentioned my name..." Aran took the newspaper and folded it to store it under the seat.
Cora leaned his head against the backrest and put his hand inside his shirt to scratch his itchy back. "Damn Cold Fish. I knew he would screw us."
"Listen," said young Allet. "I plan to throw away the Seorite, but I can't do it alone. I'll go to the bathroom and throw everything out the window." He took his bag and made his way.
Cora nodded. "Okay, then I'll go after you."
Trying to make as little noise as possible, Aran entered the small restroom. Cora waited impatiently, but his friend returned after many minutes, his face marked by terror.
"The Seorite in my bag was charded," he said in a trembling voice.
Cora jumped. "Are you kidding me?" he yelled on impulse.
Aran gestured for him to lower his voice. "No! I've never been more serious. I want to check yours."
Cora jumped to his feet and grabbed the bag. He opened it just enough to take a peek inside. The shimmer of the stones briefly illuminated the faces of the two boys. He closed the bag in a panic. The Seorite was completely charged.
It made no sense: the luggage had always been in plain sight under the seats and no one, not even the conductor, had ever approached them. "How could this happen?" Cora asked, terrified.
"Don't tell the girls or Fez. It would only make things worse."
Aran made his way down the aisle with the bag. "Any problem?" asked the conductor, sitting at the back of the first row of seats.
"Uh, I'm not feeling well. Must have eaten something bad." He smiled at him and the man smiled back. Aran went back into the bathroom and came out shortly afterwards, returning to Cora at a brisk pace. "What do we do with Marmorel's suitcase? I can't carry it without drawing attention."
"You think of something. I'll take care of Elidana's and Fez's bags," he said. He reached for Elidana and asked for her luggage. She, still expressionless, handed it to him without saying anything.
When he arrived in the bathroom, Cora saw that the Seorite was fully charged again. Frightened, he threw the stones out the window and returned to the aisle without wasting any time.
"Out of curiosity, what did you and your friend eat?" asked the conductor, laughing. Cora walked past him without responding.
"How did it go?" asked Aran.
"Charged, all of them."
"Damn, we have to empty the others, but we have no way... I'd say we wait until we get to Clodia, find an alley, and get rid of them," Aran suggested.
"What do we tell the others?" Cora asked. He was soaked like a sponge and wiped his forehead with his shirt sleeve.
"We'll explain that we threw the discharged stones to avoid raising suspicion. It would have been too difficult to come up with an explanation," replied Aran, succinctly.
Cora nodded. Without being seen by his friend, he took the photo obtained in the Kharzani barracks to find Ethan Standford's face from his pocket.
Aran turned towards the window, the train was curving towards a small, now-disused railway station, built for the locals. "Hey, there's someone there!" he exclaimed.