The train jerks forward and my head falls from Ruben's shoulder onto his lap. He stirs, too. The train's wheels screech against the tracks as the engine breaks. Scrambling to my feet, I rush to the windows on the left and peer out. Looming into the sky is a thick stone wall, casting a shadow over the train. The guys press their hands against the window and Killian gasps. When the train grinds to a stop, we jump off, landing on the stones of the tracks. The evening sun burns over the walls and I squint, shielding my face. In the short distance, I see the figures of four people by the enormous gates of the city.
"Let's keep our weapons away," Ruben says, glancing at us.
"I wonder who those people are," I say.
We approach, my boots crunching over the stones. Gradually, the details of the people become apparent. There are two at the front. Chains spill from the metal collar around their necks, fastening bonds in the gate. Scabs and open wounds, oozing with puss, cover the chained people. Their skin hugs the bones on their face, forming deep-set shadows on their yellow cheeks. As we get close enough, I notice the hollow, distant look in the eyes of one and the wide, bulging wildness in the eyes of the other. Beasts. Two men stand next to each of the beasts, gripping the long mast of a scythe in their right hand. They wear black cloaks that fall to their knees. Their faces are hidden from sight within the drapes of their hoods.
"What the–" Killian cuts himself off.
Resisting the urge to grab my sword, I plant my feet square and roll my shoulders back. "Hello," I say. My voice cracks and I curse myself. "My name is Elle Fallon."
"We know who you are," says the guard on the left. "What do you want?"
I bite my lip and breathe in. "We want to speak to King Wright. We have something important to discuss."
"What does it involve?"
I allow his question to hang mid-air for several moments. "There is a war among the plains. Edward Mallory and his Red Movement are going to destroy us all."
The guard narrows his eyes and chews his lip, considering me. "We will arrange a carriage to meet you." He pulls a small radio from the pocket of his robes. A static sound bursts from the tiny speakers as he holds it up to his mouth. "Red Leaf afoot. Please send immediate backup."
My shoulders tense, but I force myself to roll them back as I raise my chin. "I offer no harm to you or anyone in your city. I need your help."
"Look, Red Leaf. We don't trust you or your friends," the guard says, stuffing the radio into his pocket. The beast in his chain grunts and jerks against the collar. "We need to decide for ourselves, you mean well. I'm sure, his majesty will."
The gates behind him shudder, the boom shaking the ground and my eardrums. The gates ease open, revealing a glimpse of the city inside. Upon entrance, we see a bright green meadow. A paved road cuts through the grass and trees, as the meadow flourishes into buildings. In the distance, the spire of a castle reaches into the sky, a match for the walls. The sight is familiar to those from the Floodgates. An enormous carriage and more cloaked guards greet us at the gates. They march towards us, gripping the masts of scythes. One guard stomps right up to me and I resist the urge to unsheathe my dagger as he plants his feet only inches from my boots. The shadows of his hood conceal his eyes, but the lines and grey stubble on his jaw and chin tell me enough.
"I don't believe it," he mutters, lowering the mast of his scythe to the ground. "Elle Fallon at our doorsteps."
"It's nice to meet you." I offer my hand.
He smiles and then pulls his hood off. The man has olive skin and greying hair. Crow's feet mar his dark, hooded eyes and his cheekbone stick out. He stares at me, the smiling meeting his eyes. He takes my hand in his bony one. "We have been waiting for you, Miss Fallon."
"You can call me Elle," I smile.
"My name is Rus. Please, come with us. We will deliver you to the King."
I glance at the others and Ruben nods. "Okay," I say to Rus.
We board the carriage, taking seats on the plush cushions. The guards pile in, sitting on the seats across from us and the horseman orders the horses forward. The carriage jolts as they fall into motion, and the gates rumble as they ease shut. The horses pull us through the meadow. Butterflies and bees flit between the greenery in plenty. Dragonflies zip across the pond a stone's throw away.
Ruben shifts closer to me and I glance at him. Our eyes meet, and though we do not say it aloud, it is clear we must keep our guards up. I avert my gaze back to the window, tracking the way we travel just in case. Buildings erupt from the meadow as the greenery and nature disappear behind us. Dust swirls into the air as the wheels of the carriage meet an industrial part of the city. Towers billow plumes of black smoke. Skeletal people climb ladders and groups haul unnameable machinery and enormous tree trunks through the streets. We pass a school. Children play on swings and slides, their chatter a stark contrast from the factories surrounding them. One child stands by the fence. He has curly, reddish hair, sunken cheeks, and his bony fingers grasp the bars of the fence. His eyes narrow as he spots me peering back at him. After several beats, he points and yells, "Elle!"
I flinch, slamming my back against the chair and out of sight. What is this place?
That's when I notice Rus scrutinising me. His eyes dart over me and my friends. When I catch his gaze, he grins. "We always thought you might come here, Elle," he says. "But I'm still trying to believe my very eyes."
The spire of the castle looms closer as the horses trot on. They lead us through a series of hedges rising thick into the sky. Rows upon rows. Until we emerge in a courtyard and the horses lead us around the circular path to the golden gates in front of the castle. As the carriage pulls to a halt, Rus and the guards climb out. Rus waves us to follow. We clamber onto the pavement and I draw in a breath, collecting my wits.
"Alright!" Rus claps before someone hands over his scythe. "Welcome to the home of our majesty, King Jaxon Wright."
He twirls around and his cloak flows. The golden gates creak as they swing open. The guards position themselves behind Rus, and in sync, they fall into a march. I glance at Ruben, Aston, and Killian, whose lips purse and his Adam's apple tremors.
"Let's go," Aston whispers.
We follow the cloaked guards across the threshold of the gates. The marble castle bursts from the ground. The spire tower, along with several other smaller towers, reaches for the sun. The guards lead us up a crescent-shaped set of steps. We pass two women, both bone-thin, dressed in beige frocks and white aprons, sweep leaves into the corner of the lowest step. I offer them a small smile. They remind me of Larissa.
We enter the castle, and I almost slip on the polished marble. Inside, the marble boasts an array of blues, deep purples, and whites. We press through hallways, passing staff and fine-dressed residents. They stare as we pass. I wish we could wear those hooded cloaks. The guards lead us into an enormous, echoing ballroom. Chandeliers drape from the ceiling and an unlit fireplace takes up half of the far wall. A man stands in front of the fireplace, clutching his hands behind his back. He wears a black suit; the topcoat falling to his knees. He has white hair and wears a simple silver crown.
Rus draws to a halt and stamps the mast of his scythe against the floor thrice. The sound echoes off the marble walls. But the man does not flinch. Rus clears his throat. "She is here."
The words hang in the air for several heartbeats. I fear this man can hear mine thundering beneath my chest.
At last, he turns around. The man has dark brown skin and deep eyes, averting to me at once. He is tall but slim, and the topcoat appears too big. Gold buttons encrust the middle. With his hands still behind his back, he walks toward me. He stops a few feet from me. Hie has lines and wrinkles on his face, and his nose is slim. His jaw and cheeks are bony, and his eyes have a yellow stain.
"The telltale red hair," he says, voice gruff. "And the trademark sword. It cannot be a mistake, can it, Elle Fallon?"
I stay silent, peering at him.
"I suppose you have come not to talk of your fame, though, Miss Fallon."
Finally, I muster my voice. "Yes. We are here to discuss the veritable plague of the plains. Edward Mallory and his Red Movement."
A sly grin forms on the old man's face. "My name is Jaxon Wright. Come this way."
He spins on his heel and strides out of the ballroom through a doorway near the fireplace. We enter a small room. Leather couches face one another, and a glass coffee table sits between them. He gestures for us to sit.
Sweeping his topcoat beneath him, he sits across from us as we huddle together on the same couch. I introduce King Wright to Ruben, Aston, and Killian. Although, he doesn't bother with any pleasantries himself.
"Miss Fallon," he says, removing the crown from his head and placing it on the coffee table. "Are you aware of the famine in this city?"
His words strike me silent for several sobering moments. "No," I say. The sunken cheeks of the boy who pointed at me flash in my mind. "I wasn't aware."
"Forgive me for the urgency. But my people are starving. Growing hungrier and weaker by the day. Many have died from starvation, typhus and the drown. Have you heard of the Irish Potato Famine?"
I nod, drawing it from my memory of schoolbooks. "From 1845 to 1849. The late blight destroyed crops."
"Yes. Well, Edward Mallory sent a flurry of Mecurees into our city a year ago. The birds carried Phytophthora and deposited it over pastures and pastures of our crops. It took us too long to figure out he was responsible. Not before I sent soldiers beyond our city walls to search the Grasslands for food. But, too few soldiers returned. I have since learned that Edward has captured my people over the past year and experimenting on them. Torturing them, killing them, and worse, turning them into the monsters."
Again, I stay silent.
"Look, Elle. We have known for a long time that you would seek us. We share similar stories and environments." He gestures to the windows where his city's walls loom. "My army has been waiting. I have been waiting. We will ally with you, Elle Fallon. Because if there is anyone that we need dead, it's Edward Mallory."