The black car took the corner by the grain silos so fast the right tires lifted off the cobblestones.Sloane grabbed the door handle with both hands to keep her head from hitting the glass. Down the street, the red and green switch lights of the main depot cut through the dark. Beyond them, a massive black steam engine with thick steel plates across its nose was already releasing white pressure, the sound like a wounded beast screaming into the night."Uncle Ben's shack is behind the water tower," Sloane said, pointing through the windshield.Riven didn't brake until the last three yards. He yanked the handbrake hard, spinning the heavy car sideways into a pile of rotting wooden ties. The car stopped with a bone-jarring jolt against the brick wall of a small watchman's hut.Sloane kicked her door open and hit the ground running.The door of the hut flew open before she reached the steps. An old man in gray suspenders and a greasy wool cap stumbled out, holding a double-barrel bird gun

The leather dispatch tube rolled across the woven mat, stopping an inch from Elder Austin's trembling nose.Nobody touched it. The old man kept his forehead pressed to the floor, his thin ribs shaking under his gray silk robe. Justin didn't even lift his chin; he was staring at the red wax seals on the cylinder, sweating onto the wood.Riven leaned down, picked the tube up with two fingers, and snapped the end cap off with his thumb.A single strip of stiff gray paper slid out."Who let them cross?" Sloane asked. She didn't move her hands or fiddle with her dress. She stood right beside Riven on the raised platform, watching the courier breathe like a tired horse."Commander Orin sold the iron gate at midnight," the courier wheezed, wiping red grit from his upper lip. "Took six mule carts of gold and pulled the river chains down. The Sand Lords didn't stop to loot the farms. They're riding straight for the mountain pass to cut off the capital grain supply before the harvest locks."Ri

The flatcar lurched sideways as the wheels hit the curved rails near the old quarry bridge.Riven didn't count to three. He didn't have time.He clamped his arm around Sloane's ribs, bent his knees, and threw them both off the left side of the rolling wagon into the empty air.They hit the steep dirt bank together. The drop knocked all the wind out of Sloane's chest, turning her vision black for a full second. She tumbled through briars, dry pine cones, and loose red gravel, her cheek scraping hard against an old root before Riven's heavy boots dug into the dirt, stopping their slide ten feet above the rocky creek.Behind them, the runaway train didn't slow down.The six timber flatcars hit the bridge gap at full speed. Sparks sprayed out five feet wide as the wheel rims ground straight off the steel tracks. The lead car jumped the tracks, tipped forward like a thrown rock, and plunged forty feet down into the middle of the river ford.BOOM.The blasting powder in the crates caught in

Master Albright didn't wait for anyone to untie him.He rubbed his raw wrists together until the hemp rope dropped off, then fell onto his knees right beside Martha, blowing his nose into a dirty rag."They were going to hang us from the water wheel, Miss Sloane," Albright croaked, tears cutting clean lines down his soot-covered face. "Lord Barlas had three carts of pitch ready to dump into the town well. If you hadn't come through that cellar...""Save your breath, Uncle Albright," Sloane said, helping Martha sit up against an overturned wooden bench. She checked the old woman's neck; the cut was shallow, barely bleeding now under the cloth. "Go out to the road and flag Linnea's drivers. Tell them to bring water and clean bandages for the men tied up back there."Albright scrambled to his feet, bowing twice toward Riven before running out through the broken front door.Riven stood near the bar, his fingers working quickly as he reloaded his shotgun from a box of shells he found in hi