The train climbed the peaks like a beast, strong-arming its way up the mountain track. At times, it seemed to stall and shake, but it always resumed its steady upwards clacking. I sat against a large crate, angled so that I could watch the world flash by through the gap, and Nico took up the same position on the opposite wall. He had removed his mask and was breathing deeply in some sort of meditative exercise, and I could see the vapor of his warmth breath in the air. We rode mostly in silence, but I was very aware of his presence–having someone so near was unfamiliar, and it put me on edge.

As I watched, he opened his eyes and unzipped his pack, pulling out a rolled-up map. He tilted it so that I could see, and I scooted closer eagerly. The map was hand-drawn in black ink, and incredibly detailed. It showed all of Amberasta, and even the beginnings of the lands beyond, although they were unnamed. In the corner of a map, a small scale indicated that every half-inch was equal to 200 miles.

Nico’s finger touched down somewhere in the middle of the Valram Range. “We’re here,” he said. “Soon, we’ll pass the last of the greater peaks.” He traced the range, ending at its tail. “And in about two hours, the train will stop to unload in Trilow, a small city in the Flemdown Peaks.”

My eyes traced the map carefully. It appeared that the first leg of our journey would leave us firmly in the center of the lesser peaks. We were moving south, away from Amberasta’s border with Solokia. Using my finger, I approximated the distance. “Trilow is a hundred miles from Karakul?”

Nico nodded. “Almost.”

I placed my hands on the floor of the train car, feeling the deep rumble throughout my entire body. It was calming, and I felt myself finally relaxing as Nico continued to look over the map. Karakul is already far behind us, I thought. If I had known that such a thing was possible, I would’ve jumped onto a moving train much sooner.

***

The front of the car tipped as the train began its descent into the valley. Nico and I looked through the gap, watching as the city came into view. It was a small, condensed cluster of brown buildings with pointed tops, designed to dump the snow to the valley floor. The valley was surrounded by the Flemdown Peaks, a cluster of smaller mountains whose snow-capped tops were just barely below the clouds. Even the far-flung edges of the city were contained between the mountains; Karakul had dwarfed Trilow in both size and sprawl.

On the left, the city was flanked by three large factories, whose smokestacks sent grey particles into the air. Nearby, the mountainsides were stripped bare, exposing the layers of rock underneath. It was as if the earth had been split by a great explosion.

“What happened there?” I asked above the roar of the train, pointing at the craters.

“Trilow is known for its steel industry. That’s where they mine the iron ore.” I frowned. There was something terribly ugly about stripping away the mountains for Keon’s war machines.

Before long, the train’s speed decreased until it was crawling down the incline. It rumbled through the center of the city, giving us a close-up view of the downtown. The main district had the stark simplicity of an industrial center, with functional architecture and crisscrossing bus cables. It was still early, but the streets were crowded with people on their way to work. Some stopped to watch the train slide by, but most ignored it as if it were as common a sight as the mountains above.

Nico stood and slung his pack over his shoulder, planting his feet and bending his knees so that the motion wouldn’t throw him off balance, and I hurried to do the same. The buildings began to thin, indicating that we were reaching Trilow’s outskirts. Nico widened the gap between the sliding doors and glanced outside. “Get ready,” he warned. Just then, the train turned into a grove of trees, momentarily hiding the rest of the city from view. “Now!”

Nico and I jumped from the train, crashing into the underbrush of the grove. I landed hard on my bad ankle and rolled to disperse the force. When I stood back up, massaging it, Nico was already taking off through the trees.

I rushed to catch up to him. As we walked, he reached into his pack, withdrawing his canteen and a small plastic case. With deft fingers, he opened the case and withdrew two contact lenses. He rinsed them, then balanced them on the tip of his fingers and pressed them to his irises. I grimaced.

“You need a seeing aid?”

Nico turned to me, and I blinked with surprises. His eyes were a light brown instead of their distinct dark shade. Colored contacts, I realized. What a genius invention. Where did he get them? Once again, I felt a surge of respect for the man before me. He seemed prepared for any task at hand, whereas I had often floundered under pressure.

“Listen carefully,” Nico said with characteristic suddenness. “There is no travel ban here like in Karakul, but newcomers are very rare. If anyone discovers that we are foreigners, we’ll be viewed with suspicion.” I nodded, and he continued. “If we are discovered through some unlikely event, here is our story: we are partners, traveling to Macobe to care for my brother, who was injured on the front lines.”

“Where are we from?”

“Oxver, a town near the border,” he answered without hesitation.

“Will anyone recognize you?”

He shook his head. “I vary my path each trip. The last time I was here was over six months ago, and I looked completely different.”

“Nico,” I asked as something occurred to me, “what will we do if they ask for our papers? I’m a registered citizen of Karakul, and I had no special clearance to get past the travel ban.”

“We must avoid that at all costs. I might be able to talk our way out of it, but not if they’ve discovered that your DNA was forged. Who did you switch the swab with?”

“A homeless man,” I said sheepishly.

Nico stared at me for a beat too long. “They’ll know as soon as they process the sample.”

“What? How?”

“The chromosomes… well, let’s just say the difference is obvious. It would’ve been better if you’d switched it with a woman’s.”

I frowned, feeling stupid. In Amberasta, our education had been mostly practical in nature, designed to prepare us for the workforce. Only those who were identified as academically gifted at a young age were given the opportunity to pursue the sciences.

“There’s nothing we can do now,” Nico said, pushing our conversation aside. He rifled through his backpack once more and passed me a snow cap, which I pulled over my bun. “Come on,” he said, “the faster we get inside, the less likely we are to be spotted.”

***

Within the city boundaries, Trilow was noticeably warmer than Karakul, where the air seemed to burn with cold. Tall grasses grew in the soil next to the sidewalks, and the trees were laden with red and brown leaves. Nico and I walked with purpose through the outskirts of the city, blending in with the morning rush. Before long, we entered a residential neighborhood with cookie-cutter brick houses that pumped black smoke from their chimneys.

Nico approached one of the larger houses. It was two stories, with a gabled roof and four small windows. He glanced around, then slipped his hand through the iron gate and unlatched it. We walked briskly through the small front yard toward the entryway. Nico’s knuckles rapped on the door brisky: once, twice.

The door swung open, and a stocky, middle-aged man was framed in the entryway. He wore the leather apron of a blacksmith and carried a rucksack, as if he had been about to leave for work.

“What the f-” he fell silent suddenly, and all of the blood drained from his face.

“Jack.” Nico greeted him.

The smith paused and looked both of us over. His eyes seemed to darken, but he beckoned us inside. “Come in before someone spots you loitering on my porch.”