“We’re drawing closer,” Heidel said.
My seat lurched, and I grabbed the cushion so I wouldn’t fall out. Our carriage screeched to a halt.
“Have we hit something?” I asked.
Heidel had her knife out before I saw her move, clutching it tightly. “Not possible. The carriages know when to stop if something blocks the rails.”
“Then perhaps something is blocking the rails?”
The lights winked out. Dim morning sunlight attempted to illuminate the cabin but failed, shrouding us in darkness.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Perhaps someone else intends to board.”
“Out here?”
Kull sat up. “Where are we?” he asked with a hoarse voice. “Where are the lights?”
“They went out,” I said.
Kull cursed the elves. Had I been the son of an elven woman, I might have taken offense. “Why’d they go out?”
Heidel stared out the window. “Listen,” she whispered. I used my elven senses to heighten my hearing. At first, I heard nothing. Then, a scraping sound, as if someone were peeling the metal from our carriage.
“Maybe we should get out and check—” I started.
An explosion rocked the carriage. My seat fell away as searing air engulfed me. Ringing filled my ears right before the world went black.
I felt the pain as soon as I woke up. My left shoulder. Possibly dislocated. Lacerated skin on my hands and face.
Someone screamed. Heidel?
I opened my eyes to find thick smoke obscuring the landscape. Hunks of metal sat atop me, and I pushed them away, wincing when I moved my arm. I sat up. Through the haze, I saw Kull’s silhouette hunched over his sister.
I pulled myself out of the debris. Snow burned my raw skin, so I pulled the cloak close and kept my hands inside as I stumbled toward Kull.
Pain shot through my shoulder, and I bit my tongue to stay distracted. As I drew closer, I saw that the remains of our carriage pinned Heidel’s legs. She screamed as Kull attempted to move the wreckage away.
“Stop!” She grabbed his hands. “It hurts. Gods, it hurts.”
“But I have to move it.”
“Please, don’t.”
“But I have to—”
I placed my hand on Kull’s shoulder. He turned to me with a stoic face, though I saw fear in his eyes. “Can I try?” I asked.
He seemed to think for a moment, then nodded and stepped away.
I bent and inspected the metal. Blood streamed down Heidel’s leg, and when I gently pushed the debris, she winced. She reached for Kull, and he grabbed her hands.
As I looked closer, I pushed the tattered fabric of her pants aside and saw the metal embedded in her thigh. Awfully close to the femoral. That wasn’t good.
Kull must’ve seen the look on my face. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s not bad,” I lied.
“It’s in her life vein, isn’t it?”
I swallowed. “I’m not sure. But if we remove the metal, she could bleed to death.”
Kull’s face paled. He squeezed his sister’s hands. “Can’t we do anything?” he asked me.
The pain in my shoulder clawed at my mind, making it hard for me to concentrate.
“A tourniquet,” Kull suggested. He pulled a strip of fabric from his pack. I moved away as he tied the fabric around her leg just above the wound. “On three?” He looked at me.
“Yeah,” I said and grabbed the metal, although I knew I wouldn’t be much help with a dislocated shoulder.
“You okay?” he asked me.
I steadied my breathing. “I’m fine. Just my shoulder, but I’m fine.”
He studied me. “Your shoulder?”
“It’s fine.”
He nodded, though he didn’t seem convinced. “On three?” he repeated.
“Yes, on three.”
“One, two—”
“Wait!” Heidel cut in. “There has to be… another way.” She turned to me with an ashen face. “Use your magic.”
“I don’t think—”
She grabbed my collar. “Use your magic!”
I hesitated. I’d never been much of a healer, not for physical injuries. I could mess her up worse than she already was.
Kull glanced at me. “Can you remove the metal?”
“I can try.” I tried to concentrate, but thinking through pain is never as easy as it seems. I shut my eyes and focused on the symbol for metal. An image of a mountain formed in my mind. Iron ore—the base element the carriage would have been created from.
“Hold still,” I told Heidel. She nodded. I reached for the broken scrap. Magic swelled inside me. I focused on the image of the mountain, concentrating on keeping my hand steady.
Magic burst from my fingertips and into the metal. I imagined the shard disintegrating. The carriage burned under my hands, but I held steady. Seconds passed, though they felt like minutes. The metal grew hotter. Heidel gasped for air. Why wasn’t the metal doing anything? It should have been a pile of ash by now.
A strange magic fog pushed against my own. I felt darkness in the magic, as if I were running my fingers through slime.
I pulled away. Shivers ran down my spine. I stared at the carriage’s remains in a new light. Dark magic clung to it. The same sort of magic I’d felt in Jeremiah’s dream.
“Why can’t you move it?” Heidel whispered before she slumped. Her head fell into the snow.
“Heidel?” Kull cradled his sister’s head. He turned to me. “What’s wrong?”
“Dark magic.”
Kull raised an eyebrow. “Coming from the carriage?”
I nodded. He remained silent, though I saw his hesitation. He knew this wasn’t good.
“I can’t remove the debris. We’ll have to pull it free without magic.”
Kull nodded, his face emotionless as he held his sister in his arms. I supposed he’d been through this sort of thing before. But it still seemed strange that he remained so calm. Perhaps he wasn’t. Maybe he’d learned to put on a brave face.
He rested his sister’s head on the snow and moved to the carriage’s remains, gripping the metal on both sides. I stumbled upright and grabbed it with him.
Kull nodded to me, and we strained against the debris. My shoulder screamed with pain as I wrestled the metal free from Heidel’s leg. We pulled. Then we
