Legions of Bone: Dragon Rider Book 3

Chapter 31: Cold Feet or Emotional Attachment

Sorry for posting so late guys! I was just so busy that I didn't have time : (

Dagen

The train bobbed softly, carrying them all inexorably forward, to what once was a thriving city but now existed only as a walking death trap.

Dagen studied the passengers, all of them soldiers of every race and every faction. Most were silent, staring out the window as they picked at their fingers or bounced their feet. Other's laughed and drank, but there were others collected together throughout the train--people with hard eyes and scarred or crooked noses. Seasoned warriors or mercenaries; Dagen couldn't tell.

His gaze slid over the employee doing his round up and down the train. He'd checked every passenger's tickets, politely telling the ones without red passes to get off several stops before. Dagen wondered what would happen when it came to them, but the man simply walked past them, giving a slight nod to each of them. Eoin told him later that Norah paid him off.

Topher sat closest to the aisle, a towel over his eyes, his chest rising and falling slowly. But not snoring. Eoin was off checking out the train, talking to a few of the younger ghosts following their people.

Dagen's eyes slid to Norah, curled up on the seat, a blanket wrapped around her so only her head and neck were exposed as she read. Naturally, Dagen spied her readings but when she didn't angle the book out of his line of sight, he found lore stories boring. She made notes in the book, even tabbed different pages as if she were actually trying to memorize the book.

Dagen shifted, his cloak neatly draped over him and keeping him warm against the cold, stale air. He leaned closer to Norah, his voice nearly swallowed in the train's screaming. "I know we agreed on no feelings, love, but you didn't have to ditch."

She'd left after the shower last night and hadn't returned until dawn to haul their asses onto a train.

Norah flipped a page, her face cool as still water. "I had things to do and it gets quite boring watching you and Topher sleep."

Her tone was flat, unbothered and her expression never shifting, but Dagen knew her enough to see the sarcasm.

He mused, "You know he'd be into that."

Norah's hair, a sheet of black that fell to her chin, bobbed with the train. "I don't think he could keep his eyes open long enough to be into that."

"I may be tired, but my hearing is as sharp as ever," Topher grumbled.

Dagen stretched, his long legs sliding beneath the seat in front of him. He gave her a languid smile.

Brown eyes met Dagen's, shining with mild amusement. "So I should talk quieter?" she asked Topher.

She wasn't talking to him, but still, Dagen's stomach fluttered and twisted. A baby star was dying and coming alive in his stomach. He wasn't sure if he enjoyed this feeling.

Dagen's smile paused as he watched Norah go back to reading her book. He decided to let her drop the topic for now. She'd tell him things when they were alone.

But it still bugged him.

The train screamed, gliding into the underground station. Everything went black until the lights flipped on, drowning the train in yellow brilliance. It gave Dagen the perfect opportunity to take in every face again, to see whose eyes darted to whose or which hands slid into which pockets.

Getting off the train took several minutes of inching through the aisle. Dagen kept his bag hidden behind his cloak. He didn't bring much, Dagen always traveled light. It was easier to travel without something weighing you down and far easier to notice if something's been stolen.