Class Reptilia

The ride to the second checkpoint was far longer than the first. The horses ran for hours without faltering, avoiding holes and navigating the grassland with ease even when the stars clouded over. Ember fared less well, her wounds reopening and her insides mixing up from her poor riding form.

A distraction came four hours into the night, when the landscape changed from untamed grass to carefully-managed farmland. Soon after, Kairo spotted Draycott's wall in the distance. The party skirted the city, close enough for Ember to make out its outlines but too far for the watchmen to sight them from the ramparts.

Draycott was exactly as Ember remembered it, a mid-sized cluster of boxy buildings dotted throughout with pointed cathedrals. Even so late at night, lights winked on and off in the distance. Professor Bao had taught her that it was a city particularly inhospitable to Linnaeans: its proximity to Mendel had translated to a fear bordering on hysteria, and it was reliant on Ciradyl's industry. It also reminded Ember of her captivity, which never failed to form a pit in her stomach, and she was glad when it disappeared over the horizon.

The next break in monotony came when, after several more hours of riding, Kairo's horse broke formation and joined Blackstone at the front. The two riders spoke in tense tones, though Ember's position meant she couldn't make out their conversation. A moment later, Blackstone called his horse to halt and the party followed.

Ember slid off, sore and uneasy. It was clear from the others' wary glances that the stop had not been part of the plan. "What happened, commander?" Lilith asked.

Blackstone looked at Kairo, giving him permission to speak. "I've spotted a human settlement up ahead," the caracal answered. "Temporary, with tents and wagons numbering over fifty, and a great deal of raw materials."

Lilith inhaled sharply. "An army?"

"Unlikely, considering the size," Blackstone answered, although his unease was obvious. "It's possible that our superiors are already aware of this, but it is our duty to investigate further." He looked over his subordinates. "Okay, Orthus and Lilith, you will get as close as you can to the camp without detection. Your mission is to discern its origin and its purpose. Kairo, you will watch them from a distance and intervene only if they are in danger of being apprehended. The rest of us will wait here for your return."

"Yes, sir," the three Linnaeans acknowledged. The weather was warm enough that Kairo had been riding with his arms bare, but now he pulled on a black hooded cloak. Orthus adjusted his camouflage, becoming almost indiscernible from the landscape, and Lilith seemed to shrink back on herself. They set out toward the camp, their steps hardly disturbing the grass.

Callia, Ember, and Blackstone led the horses a little down the hill, urging them to lay down instead of letting them graze. There was a general air of anxiety, and Ember saw how Blackstone stayed standing, looking in the direction the reconnaissance team had disappeared. His care was plain in the troubled lines on his face, and Ember looked away, feeling as though she was intruding.

The wait was almost unbearable. Ember kept her infrared pushed to its furthest range, although it had begun to give her a headache. She began to fear that something had happened to Orthus, who was a competent fighter but would be overwhelmed by more than two trained soldiers, and she was unnerved by how sick she felt. Somehow, without her noticing, the bubble that encased her family had expanded just a little to include him as well.

The three Linnaeans returned after about an hour, though it felt much longer, and it took considerable effort for Ember not to fuss over Orthus. "What did you discover?" Blackstone asked.

"The humans were mostly asleep, as expected," the octopus reported, "except for watchmen bordering the encampment, armed with rifles. The living conditions are very poor, and the smell is terrible. It's not an army, it's a work site."

"A work site?"

"Right," Lilith nodded. "I went to the south, where a great swath of earth has been cleared and a track of iron rails, like the steps of a ladder, has been laid in its place. It marches from here far over the horizon."

"Toward Ciradyl," Orthus added. "The crates are marked with the symbols of the mines."

Blackstone stroked his beard. "Good work," he said. "It is clear that the purpose of this innovation must be transportation, although I am far from understanding the particulars. The plan was to make camp at another cache, but this area has too much human activity. Instead, we will stop in Wicksby, the largest village between Ciradyl and Draycott. There is an inn there with a proprietor who does not ask too many questions. We will hide in plain sight and gather information."

"Yes, sir," Lilith said, looking around at the others. "I'll make the necessary preparations."

***

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

It was still dark, but only barely, when they reached the boundaries of Wicksby. It was a sprawling, unwalled village, with most of the buildings in various states of disrepair. It was less than two miles from the tracks, which in the grey light had looked to Ember like a scar on the earth. Much further in the distance, she had sighted Ciradyl's mountains, whose peaks rested above the clouds.

There was no guard posted at what might have been the entrance, so they rode right up to the town's main street. Even so early, it was packed with people. Merchants hauled carts of dubious goods, the downtrodden begged for scraps, and most of all, hundreds of day labourers were beginning the trek to the tracks. The stench of sweat and waste was overwhelming even for Ember, and Kairo had gone as far as to pinch his nose shut.

The party dismounted and led their horses down a narrow, winding street. They didn't attract much attention, thanks to both the large crowds and to Lilith's preparations: she had covered her own overlarge ears, dressed Kairo and Orthus in hoods, and cleaned up Blackstone's beard. Ember had been given convex pieces of glass, called contacts, to disguise her slitted pupils, and she had covered her heat pits with Morgan's makeup. With her veil on, Callia looked enough like a tuberculosis patient that nothing else needed to be done.

After a series of streets that changed direction and alleys that ended abruptly, the party stopped outside of a three-story building. It leaned a bit to one side, as if the last story had been slapped atop the others with no care for structural integrity. Smells of beer, stew, and piss wafted from the inside. The Black Cat Inn & Pub, a hanging sign read (presumably, since the end was missing).

"Ember, Lilith, and Callia, come with me," Blackstone said, his voice disguised by the noises of the street. "The rest of you go around the back to the stables."

Ember followed behind as he pushed open the door to the inn. They stepped into the pub, where only a few patrons sat eating the morning's breakfast, a bowl of colorless gruel.

Blackstone walked to where a wizened old lady was barely visible above the bar. "'Morning," he said. "We need rooms for six for one night, and stables for as many horses."

The woman turned one yellowed eye up to look at them. "Six? Where's the rest of ye?"

"Out back, tending to my sister and the horses," Lilith answered. "She's ill, and we're on our way to Ciradyl for the sacred healing."

"For my part, my wife and I are returning home to the big city," Blackstone added, drawing Ember in by the waist while she did her best to look amenable. "The rest in our party seek work, but we've been traveling together for safety." He punctuated his words by sliding one silver and three bronze coins across the table.

The woman pocketed the coins quickly, then shrugged. "Sure, but all the rooms are spoken for, save one. Third floor, all the way down the hall." She leaned forward, looking at Lilith with squinted eyes. "Take the stairs around back, and don't bring trouble to my inn."

"We won't," Blackstone promised.

***

"Ha ha!" Blackstone boomed, slapping the back of the patron next to him so hard that he almost went toppling over. Ember laughed politely, too, although she had gotten a little lost during the man's story, which by her best reckoning had been about scamming the tax collector with a fevered pig.

She and the commander were seated at the bar, crammed in like canned sardines. The pub was packed with day laborers, none of whom seemed to have bathed after their shift, partaking in the pub's ale and stew. It was loud enough to form a headache at Ember's temples.

She had felt useful, at first, when Blackstone had told her that the two of them were going downstairs to the pub. Considering her appearance and the fact that she had lived in Ciradyl, she was the most logical choice. It had been stuffy inside the room anyway, with no one except Kairo comfortable enough to sleep—when she had left, Orthus had been keeping to himself, Callia and Lilith were playing cards, and the caracal was sprawled out on the straw mattress. Now she almost envied them.

"Anyhow," another patron said, leaning over her to be heard, "what brings y'all here?"

Ember took a sip of her ale to avoid answering and immediately regretted it. It was bitter and sludgy, as if someone had scraped it from the bottom of a barrel.

"We're traveling back to Ciradyl from Draycott, where we married," Blackstone answered instead.

"Lucky prize," the man said, and Ember struggled to keep the polite smile on her face.

"You don't know the half of it," Blackstone agreed. "But say, one of our traveling companions was hoping to find work around here. You wouldn't have any suggestions, would you?"

The man laughed, revealing a mouth only half-full of teeth. "Work? I don't suppose he wants to work on the railroad with everyone else and their grandmother?"

"Don't blame him. They work us like dogs," the man on the other side of Blackstone said.

Ember made a sympathetic noise. "But why all of this haste?"

"Well, the foreman says it's the goddess's will. That the train will bring crops from Draycott's farms to Ciradyl to feed the hungry there."

"Crops?" someone snorted, and Ember looked over her shoulder to see a middle-aged woman, her face tanned and deeply lined from years of working outside. The tips of her fingers were stained black. "I've seen the train, that beast that eats coal and spits smoke. If it's built for crops then I'm a noblewoman."

"Like hell you've seen it," the workmen har-hared.

Ember ignored them. "What do you mean?"

The woman looked off a little to the side, as if remembering something. "It's not open-topped, like a cart for crops. It's an armored building, put together in segments, rolling on wheels of forged steel."

Ember swallowed. "Then what is its purpose?" she asked, even though there was only one answer.

The woman leaned closer. "I'm a nobody, so I can't presume to know such things… But there are whispers back home in Ciradyl that the new archbishop is finally going to bring those demons in the south to justice."

"Thank goodness," Ember heard herself saying. Her throat felt very dry.