Ryn wasted no time. He let Cid pull him up, then looked around at the battle that had begun.

Vorr had been blown to the far end of the carriage, but was back on his feet and had his huge sword drawn, shouting in fury and swinging it in massive deadly arcs at Sagar, who had his twin cutlasses out, and Nuthea, who knew how to handle the Imperial sword she carried too, Ryn was surprised to see.

On the other side of them, near the entrance of the carriage, Vish and Elrann were locked in a similar dance with the female Shadowfinger. Vish’s black sword flashed this way and that, and Elrann flicked her whip out in vicious snaps, but the Shadowfinger dodged and jumped and twirled to avoid each blow, and each time brought her chained mace of spikes around in reply, forcing Vish and Elrann to dodge out of the way themselves.

On the floor next to them lay Tilbrook, eyes staring at nothing, blood leaking from his mouth. He was only a boy. Barely older than me.

Ryn made his choice, and pelted towards the far end of the carriage where Sagar and Nuthea were fighting Vorr, familiar hatred for the Empire and the General spreading like heat from his chest. It wasn’t really a choice at all. Kill Vorr.

He saw a gap in the melee as Sagar used another smaller gust of wind to push Vorr back again and, his reserves replenished by Cid’s magic, flung a fireball directly at the general.

It hit him in the chest, but then dissipated into nothing.

“Get back, pup!” Sagar said. “We don’t need you here! Go help the girl and the scumsucker! Don’t you remember he’s impervious to fire attacks?”

Oh yeah. In his sudden thrill at being healed by Cid and back on his feet again, Ryn had completely forgotten that for a moment. Again. Stupid…

“Elpis!” roared Vorr all of a sudden through the momentary lull in the fighting. “Call for reinforcements, damn you!”

Ryn spun to see the lady Shadowfinger leap away from Vish and Elrann in two elegant hops, twisting in the air as she did so, and land by the door. She dashed through it, and the opened door bounced off the wall and shut again with a clang.

Distant shouts.

They all stood blankly watching the door for a moment, blinking in surprise at what had just happened. She had moved so fast.

A rumble.

And then the door to the carriage burst open, and in flew the Shadowfinger again, followed by the armoured Imperial officers Ryn had seen earlier, followed by soldier after soldier after soldier, swarming into the carriage like a stampede of giant ants.

“Poodoo!” yelled Sagar, still trading strikes with Vorr. “Run!”

Vish and Elrann didn’t need telling twice.

But Ryn did, frozen as he was in place by shock and his desire to see Vorr dead.

“Come on, Ryn!” Nuthea said, grabbing him by the hand and tugging him after her, away from the oncoming soldiers.

Sagar motioned with his hand and yelled something, and another massive gust of wind pushed Vorr out of their path, slamming him into a window, leaving a spiderweb of cracks. Elrann unloaded a shot at him as she passed, and sparks flew from his chestplate. It wouldn’t have wounded him, Ryn knew, but it kept him there a little longer as they dashed past.

Ryn felt a pang of regret that he was running away from Vorr again as he forced himself to look away. But he had realised at last that he wasn’t going to kill the General today. Run Ryn, run away, live to fight another day, live to find Vorr again and make him pay.

Thank the gods there was another door at the other end of the carriage. Sagar got to it first and kicked it open.

They piled after him out of it. But where Ryn had expected the door to lead straight into another carriage, instead it opened up to a small exterior platform built onto the outside of the train.

They skidded to a halt on the miniature platform, stumbling and holding onto each other to stop themselves falling off it with their momentum. Rushing air and green hills lit by morning sunshine greeted them.

Elrann, last out, slammed the door behind her and shoved her sheathed Imperial sword through its handle to prevent it from being opened.

Almost immediately something slammed into the door from the other side and it came open slightly, but stopped when it met the resistance of the weapon.

Shouting. It would probably hold for a little while, but not long.

“What now?” said Ryn desperately.

A few feet in front of them, on the other side of the platform was another carriage, only this one was smaller, and round, with a big pipe coming out of it blowing steam into the air.

“In there?” said Nuthea.

“That’s the driver’s carriage,” said Cid.

“No,” said Sagar, “we’ll just be cornered in there. Up!”

He pointed.

Behind them, next to the door that Elrann had wedged shut, a ladder.

Sagar shoved Nuthea forwards so that she went up first, then he followed, then Cid, then Elrann, then Ryn with Vish behind him.

It was even windier on top of the train. The rushing air made Ryn’s hair fly around his head. The roofs of the box-like carriages were flat, though, so they could walk on them.

As Ryn stepped out onto the roof of the carriage they had just been inside he heard snapping metal below, and shouts.

“Where have they gone?”

“Up there! Up on the roof!”

Ryn ran along the top of the carriage with the others. He could hear soldiers calling after them already.

When they got to the first gap between the roof they were on and the roof of the next carriage, only a couple of metres, they jumped it, and kept running. They kept on like this, dashing across the train-top and vaulting the spaces between the carriages.

But, Ryn thought, what’s our end game here? How are we going to get off this train?

And then he saw the black-armoured soldiers in front of them climbing up onto the roof of the rearmost carriage of the train about eight carriages away in the distance.

They were going to be caught from both sides.

“Halt!” yelled Vish to everyone. “Form up! Stand ground!”

He had used unfamiliar language, but everyone seemed to instinctively understand what he meant and obeyed him. They all stopped in the middle of the roof of the carriage they were currently on and intuitively arranged themselves so that they were back to back in pairs, three of them facing the back of the train, three of them the front.

Ryn stood back to back with Vish, alongside Nuthea and Sagar facing the same way to either side of him, who were back to back with Elrann and Cid respectively, and watched the approaching stream of helmet-less soldiers coming towards them over the top of the train. They were three carriages away.

Swordless, he clenched his fists, readying himself to throw fire. Have the regular soldiers been ruby-touched as well, or just the officers? There’s only one way to find out…

“I’m not sure we can win this,” he thought aloud.

“Quiet, pup!” Sagar snapped. The soldiers were two carriages away now; Ryn could see their snarls and the battlelust in their eyes. “We’re going to try anyway. Don’t forget, we’ve still got our elemental projection, and old timer back there can heal us if we need it.”

“And now that we’re outside, I can use my lightning,” said Nuthea.

A crackle, and the hair on the back of Ryn’s stood on end.

The oncoming soldiers cleared the gap onto their carriage. They charged the last steps towards the party, swords drawn, shouting curses and battlecries. Ryn could see the spittle flying from their mouths.

Here goes nothing.

The closest one had his blade raised to strike.

“FIRA!” shouted Ryn, thrusting out his palms and willing the flames forwards.

Burning orange leapt from his hands in a blast that engulfed the charging soldiers. Their shouts turned to screams.

In the same moment, Sagar shouted “WINDARA!” next to him.

An instant after the flames appeared, a huge gust of wind blew from the side across the top of the carriage with a howling shriek, making Ryn wobble even though he hadn’t caught the full force of it.

The gust blew Ryn’s flames away and to the side, off the top of the train, and they dissipated into nothing.

At the same time, the gust took most of the soldiers with it, knocking them off the train.

They flew off the roof, still screaming, some still on fire from Ryn’s attack, like crumbs being brushed from a tablecloth.

Ryn winced as the screams were cut short by the crunches of the soldiers hitting the passing landscape beneath them.

He turned, panting, to Sagar. “Hey, what are you doing?! Your attack got in the way of mine!”

The pirate was panting too. He scowled at Ryn with his good eye. “Well it worked, didn’t it? I didn’t know if your fire was going to have any effect on the soldiers--it doesn’t on Vorr.”

Behind them Ryn heard the sound of Elrann’s pistols discharging as she, Vish and Cid met the wave of soldiers that crashed on them from the other direction.

“Well it clearly does,” Ryn snapped back, irritated. “It must be just the Officers that they’ve touched with the ruby, not the common soldiers.”

“Um, boys…” said Nuthea.

Ryn and Sagar looked up from their argument, ignoring the sounds of Elrann, Vish and Cid still fighting behind them.

In front of them, at the other end of the carriage roof, stood four helmet-less Imperial officers and the lady Shadowfinger, all flanking, at their head, General Vorr.

Ryn’s heart skipped a beat.

He needed to kill this man, but for the moment he was depleted, and he had realised that he still wasn’t strong enough to kill him yet. He needed more time. That meant he needed to survive this battle somehow. He also wanted his friends to survive. Even Sagar.

“Ok, we need to coordinate our attacks this time…” he said quietly to Sagar and Nuthea, hoping that Vorr couldn’t hear.

“I’m not sure how much mana I’ve got left,” said Sagar. A sliding of metal as he drew his twin blades.

Ryn wished he hadn’t lost his Imperial sword.

“Don’t worry,” said Nuthea unexpectedly. “I’ve still got my lightning projection. I’m not sure Vorr’s remembered that.”

“I’m not sure that’s the sort of thing he would forget…” said Ryn.

Something was wrong. Vorr had his own huge blade drawn too, but he wasn’t coming forwards to use it. Yet. His jaw was set and his brows creased in a deep frown. He looked thoroughly pissed off.

“Rebel filth,” Vorr said calmly, as if he was addressing them by a formal title. “I don’t know how you managed to turn a Shadowfinger to your cause, or why you keep popping up at inopportune moments, but I’ve had enough of you. By killing you I’ll be ridding myself of a nuisance and saving the Empire the money we would have had to pay out for your bounty.”

He took a step towards them.

“Stop right there, Vorr!” yelled Nuthea, and he did. “We’re outside now, and I can use my gift!” Why is she telling him that? Oh right, her stupid ‘no killing’ rule… She wants to give him a chance…. “One step closer and I’ll electrocute you all where you stand!”

There was some shuffling behind them, but Ryn kept his eyes forwards, on Vorr.

“Right,” said Elrann from behind, “we’ve taken care of the soldiers on our that side. Well, Vish took care of them, mainly. What did we miss? Oh…”

Vorr was still frowning at them grimly, moving his teeth from side to side like he was pondering something. But then his frown cracked and became a menacing smile. “Don’t threaten me, witch!” he called back to Nuthea. “You don’t know as much as you think you do. You’ve served your purpose and helped the Empire enough already by betraying your homeland.” What? “It’s time for you to die now.”

His words were threatening, but he stayed where he was for the moment. Beyond him and to either side of the train, the green hills of whatever country they were currently traveling through rolled by. What did he mean Nuthea ‘betrayed her homeland’?

“He’s bluffing…” said Sagar, quietly enough so that only they could hear. At least Ryn hoped that Vorr and the officers couldn’t hear him over the rush of the train and the wind.

“I’m not so sure…” said Cid from behind them.

“Er, guys, what’s the plan here?” said Elrann nervously.

“If he takes one step,” said Sagar, “hit him with everything you’ve got, princess.”

“No,” said Cid. “Listen to me, there’s no time to explain now, but that’s really not a good plan. We need a different one. Look, in the distance: the train’s about to pass alongside a fast-flowing river. When I give the signal, everybody jump.”

“What?” said Sagar. “Are you mad, old timer?”

I don’t know how to swim, Ryn just had time to think.

“Enough stalling!” shouted Vorr.

He ran towards them with a battle roar, the officers and Shadowfinger following fast.

“BOLTAGA!” shouted Nuthea at the top of her lungs.

A crack, and bright white lightning leapt from her outstretched fingertips, lancing into the Imperials. More lightning than Ryn had ever seen her summon before danced from her hands for a heartbeat, two, three, crackling and shifting and jumping between the Imperial officers, lighting up their faces, wide-eyed with shock. They cried out, presumably in pain.

And then the lightning subsided.

Steam hissed from the officers and Shadowfinger and their shouts died away.

But they were all still standing.

“How…?” murmured Nuthea.

Vorr looked down at himself, apparently as surprised as she was.

“Ha,” he chortled, sounding half-disbelieving. And then another chortle came, and another, and his laughter grew and grew until it poured forth freely. “Ha. Haha. Hahahahahahaha!”

He looked up at them again, and stopped laughing.

“KILL THEM!” he roared.

Vorr and the officers came on, swords raised high to strike.

Just beyond them, Ryn glimpsed a ribbon of blue that the train was coming towards.

“Now!” shouted Cid. “Quick, jump!”

Without thinking, Ryn grabbed Nuthea’s hand and jumped with her over the side of the carriage.

They hit the water with a chilling splash.