Page 60 of A Storm in Every Heart
“No, from all the other sirens we know,” I snap. “Yeah, obviously from Dessa.”
He thinks about it for a moment, and my pulse beats erratically as I hold my breath waiting for his response. I already regret asking, and know that no matter what he says I’m not going to like it.
“Not really,” he says finally. “Maybe when we first met I noticed, but not anymore.”
I grunt in something like agreement. I suppose that’s the best answer I could have hoped for.
“Granted, she’s never tried to use it on me,” Jett continues, seemingly thinking out loud. “I wouldn’t say no if she tried, but?—”
“Alright, I get it,” I cut him off irritably.
That answer wasn’t helpful at all, and I’m annoyed with myself for asking.
We continue on horseback, the rhythmic clopping of hooves echoing through the quiet woods. It’s a long trek—more than an hour to reach the nearest train station—but at last, a faint glow appears on the horizon, and I know we’re nearing the village.
I can’t get the idea out of my head that something is wrong. Probably, the train has already left and is halfway to the port by now.
It would be far faster to fly…
I roll my shoulders and shove that insane thought from my mind.
“Hang on!” Jett says abruptly.
I startle and pull back hard on my reins. “What is it?”
He doesn’t answer, just slows his own horse and leaps off, hitting the mossy forest ground before the beast has come to a complete stop.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I demand.
Jett darts off into the trees, returning a moment later leading a chestnut mare by the blue and gold braided bridle.
I glance down at my own blue reins and my heart sinks. “Is that one of our horses?”
Jett nods. “Looks like it. If Dessa and the emissary rode to the train, I assume they’d leave their horses with some of the guards to bring back to the estate. If this one is wandering around alone not far from the station…”
He doesn’t finish his thought, but I fill it in on my own. If the horse is wandering around alone, then either they never made it to the train station or something happened to the guards.
With my heart pounding out of control, I dig my heels in and gallop toward the village.
Though one loose horse isn’t exactly proof of a catastrophe, I can’t get it out of my head that something happened to Odessa. I feel it—a bone-deep ache that I’m sure means something is wrong.
That feeling is made all the worse when we reach the station and I leap from my horse, breath coming out in quick pants.
The enormous red steam engine is still here, its doors open wide and faint smoke still coming from its exhaust pipes. Thestation building itself looks abandoned; no ticket master at his window, no shouting porters, not even a stray dog skulking in the corner.
Jett and I exchange a meaningful glance, and he puts his hand on the knife in his belt as we sprint toward the train.
I don’t even bother reaching for my own weapon. My blood is pounding, and at the moment I’m sure I could tear someone’s head off with my bare hands.
Inside the train is chaos.
I run down the thin aisle, cataloging everything without really processing what I’m seeing. Broken glass, carts and luggage overturned, doors to compartments hanging open.
“Kas!” Jett shouts behind me.
My heart jumps into my throat, and I spin, finding him bent down in the entrance to one of the compartments. Beside him is the dead body of a dark-haired man—a conductor, by the look of his uniform—sprawled face-down in a pool of black-red blood soaking into the carpet. His cap lies several feet away as though knocked off during a struggle.
Rage roils in my gut—not for this man’s death specifically, but that this happened at all. “I’m going to look for Odessa.”
