Kingdom Gone

TRAIN TROUBLES

"Jason."

"Erhm. . ."

"Jason."

"That's not my pineapple, officer. . ."

"Jason!"

A cup of ice water hits me square in the face, setting all my nerves on end. My eyes flash open, left hand reaching in my jacket for the first weapon it touches. I pull out a tomahawk and swing it in a wide arc, hitting my target dead center, which is-

A cafeteria tray?

Circe peeks from behind her impromptu shield, unamusement clearly displayed on her face.

Still processing what's happening, I glance around the dimly lit train car. The many rows of worn leather seats are mostly empty, spare for a few dozing passengers who decided to stay in the same vicinity of the guy who assaulted not one, but two cops of the First Kingdom. I meet Circe's eyes again, who's sitting on the floor beside me.

"Sorry." I say, blushing.

She sighs, touching the blade of my weapon. "That's new."

"What do you mean?" I ask, putting back the axe.

Circe places down the tray and reaches over to pluck a napkin off a seat, beside a stack of our leftovers from dinner. On it I see a short list scribbled in messy handwriting. From just the glance I catch the word revolver and smoke grenade.

"I'm writing down everything I see you pull out of that jacket. It's almost like you're a walking armory." She pulls out a pen and bites the cap, pulling it off. I watch her write down battle axe.

She taps the pen against her leg, staring at the napkin, then suddenly looks at me. "I searched you when I brought you to the observatory. How come all I found were those guns."

"Because," I say, sitting up, "you only checked the obvious spots. This isn't a regular jacket." I open the right flap and point at the metallic honeycomb pattern stitched into the fabric. "That's a magnetic harness. If the item has any metal in it, the jacket can hold it. It can also hold things on my back, like rifles and shotguns."

"So how come you don't stick to everything metallic?"

I tap my sleeve. "From what I remember, the jacket is made up of four layers: authentic leather on the outside, then a layer of liquid kevlar, under that a thin layer of lead flakes, then the harness."

Circe nods. "So the lead prevents spoons from sticking to you."

"It also prevents metal detectors from seeing under my jacket."

"That must've been expensive."

I chuckle. "I bet it was. It was a gift from a close friend."

"Hm." Circe gets up and stretches, the bottom of her top sliding a few inches up her body. My smile drops as I stare at her side.

It was just a glimpse, her shirt fell back into place a second later, but I saw them. Dark, orange-brown bruises. The kind that result from constant punishment in the same concentrated spot, I know, I have a few myself. But I doubt she got into many fist fights living on her family's estate. The only other cause would be repeated abuse.

My eyes shift up to her face. Her blue eyes shine despite the murky lighting of the train car, glued to the dark landscape flashing past the scuffed window.

There's more to this girl than meets the eye, I can tell. But I doubt the Mystery of Circe Evans will be the only enigma I'll be facing on my journey to the Tenth Kingdom. Seeing this trip through to the end and claiming the reward will require more than luck. The key is staying on top of things, thinking not 2, but 7 or 8 steps ahead of everyone else, and I know for a fact we won't be able to complete this journey unchallenged. But for right now, one step at a time.