Iron & Ice #ONC2024

Chapter IV

 The journey from London is long, cold, and, as the hours wear on, boring. We pass through endless, frozen countryside, racing every north, as morning fades to afternoon, and afternoon to evening.

Cassian spends most of the time reading, while I stare out the window and try to guess at where we are, and where we're going.

A few hours in, a mechanical snack trolley rattles up the passageway, stopping at each compartment so people can purchase food. Lord Corvus has been generous in funding my new life, and he's given me a purse heavy with coins and instructions to spend it on whatever I'd like. A foreign concept, to be sure.

So, I buy myself and Cassian lunch from the trolley. The food is almost as fancy as what they fed me at Corvus House-buttery pastries; tiny, crustless sandwiches; dainty cakes; and far, far more. It's all served on china plates, and comes complete with a pot of tea in a Royal Doulton pot.

About an hour before nightfall, the train comes to an abrupt stop. For over an hour now, we have been passing through empty, white nothing. No towns, no farms. Nothing. Not since we raced through what I'm pretty sure was Stirling.

I glance out the window. We have arrived, so it seems, to the middle of nowhere. Outside my window, there is nothing but the sea and the smallest marina I have ever seen. A handful of tired fishing boats are anchored at the weathered dock, and, all the way at the end of the pier, there is a single, small ferry with a scarlet hull. A flag flies from the tallest mast. The Academy's sigil.

Out in the passageway, the doors hiss open, letting in a blast of frigid air. I stick my head out into the passage and see several other people doing the same thing. Out of the windows on the other side of the train, I see nothing but desolate, white wilderness.

Well, almost nothing.

There is only the smallest train station I've ever seen–an uncovered platform with no attendants, and a single gas lamp to illuminate the winter-dark night.

An announcement comes over the loudspeaker, automated and robotic. "All passengers, please disembark. All passengers, please disembark. This train has reached its terminus."

Slowly, we file out into the night. It's snowing up here on the edge of the world, a confusing flurry of white flakes that swirl in the air and sting when they hit our skin, driven by a harsh, bitter wind that makes it almost impossible to stand upright.

"What now?" Cassian asks as we stand in the snow, stamping our feet to keep warm.

The train attendants are already loading our trunks onto the ship, so I point at the crimson sails. "There, I suppose."

I shoulder my satchel and stride purposefully down the dock, as if I have any idea what I'm doing. Cassian glances nervously over his shoulder, then follows reluctantly. I want to roll my eyes. What, does he want an engraved invitation or something? I figure the sigil on the hull is enough of one for me.

The other students hesitate on the platform until a haughty, blond boy decides to follow. He has to be the prettiest boy I've ever seen–too pretty, really. The effect is off-putting. Only once he follows do the rest of our peers dare to move off the platform. It's like they're sheep, and he's their shepherd.

"Prick," Cassian mutters under his breath, and I figure he doesn't like this boy much. I raise an eyebrow. "Gareth Arcturus Augustus," he spits.

Ah. The one he warned me about. The girl next to him shares something of his look, although she is more dangerous than pretty. A sister? A cousin?

"And that's Julianus," Cassian says, jerking his head in her direction. "The lapdog."

Her eyes fix on him and narrow into a frigid stare, like she knows exactly what he's saying. I shiver. Her eyes are the strangest shade of icy silver-blue. I've never seen anything like them. She is more cold and imposing than haughty, and my guard instantly goes up. She's more of a threat than him, I know it instinctively.