Golden Prophecy

I

THE TRAIN was late.

"Not surprising," Coralia sighed, leaning against her bags. She had a ton, enough to last her probably an entire month without having to rewear an outfit. She was looking the part of royalty, with a lovely dress fashioned for autumn, complete with knitted tights and fashionable boots. Not the kind you would wear in the winter, but rather the kind you'd wear if you were taking photos with your friends to post online.

Andorra, on the other hand, wore her classic ensemble of jackets upon sweaters upon long sleeved shirts. She was freezing, of course; her hat was pulled low over her forehead, her blonde hair a mess under the wool cap.

"So it's usually late?" Andorra had taken a train only once as a child. She had taken it into the city when she lived in California, and it had been underground. Not above ground, like this one was. The station itself was alight with seasonal decor and candles upon candles. There were candles in the windows, candles on the counters, candles on a chandelier.

It was not like the subway she was used to.

People mulled about, also their age, also leaning against suitcases. Andorra had none, which was unsurprising as she hadn't left the human world with anything but the clothes she had on. Either way, she felt awkward standing there, the lone wolf among a pack of students headed back to school.

Coralia made a humming sound. "Yes and no. You get used to it in Anltihamy. Things run on their own time. A late train means an early goodbye. Stuff like that."

Stuff like that. Andorra was still trying to understand their strange sayings, like an early goodbye. It wasn't literal, but Andorra couldn't help digesting it as so. An early goodbye from what?

There was no sense in asking. Andorra had been asking Coralia for weeks and still, nothing made a lick of sense to her. It was all riddles and rhymes and a jumble of understandings that a foreigner like Andorra wouldn't understand.

Finally, a train horn sounded through the station, long and loud. A rise of cheers among the crowd of students had Andorra turning, watching as the train pulled in. It was magnificent in size; taller than any subway or train Andorra had ever seen, with no end in sight. She marveled at the sight as it slowed down in front of her, windows passing her line of sight too fast to see inside of them.

The force of the train pulling in blew her hair back. Coralia gripped her hand in a squeeze, and the train stopped completely, seeming to rock back on its wheels for a second before stopping, letting out a long hiss, a sigh of relief.

A line was forming by the door. Others seemed to know the train and how it worked, not marveling over the size or the beauty that lie beneath the paint. The train was painted in a brilliant gold with navy blue accents. Bold sweeps of the brush had formed gliding blue lines, almost geometrical, but not quite so harsh. They were fluid marks, flowing from one corner to the next, creating wonderful designs on the side the train. It was almost overwhelming.

A whistle blew from somewhere, and bodies were pressing in closer, forming the snaking line that now swept past Andorra. Coralia gripped her hand, pulling her into line as well, as though the redhead was used to this. She probably was.

"Stay close. There's always a lot of eager people going back, and you don't want to get lost."

Andorra looked at Coralia, taking in the sight of a girl who knew exactly what she was doing. There was no hesitancy, no anxiety, no worries that something would go wrong. Andorra swallowed her growing panic, trying to look more like the Autumn Court heir, but she knew it was a wash.

It was just that, with everyone watching her, she felt like a bug under a microscope. So little of her confidence on that fateful night back in the human world, when she had brought the entire Snow Clan over, was still with her. It was like she was reverting back into her old shell.