The train rocked gently, the afternoon light streaming through the window, spilling over my hands and then casting them back into shadow as the tracks slowly curved along the mountainside.
I thumbed at the letter, running my fingers gingerly over the slit that Angelica had made in the yellow parchment envelope. The paper was dense, expensive. It reminded me of culture, circumstance and high society.
The train shimmied briefly and we plunged into darkness. I caught my breath. It was always disconcerting for such a stark change. The small lit lamps at the corners of the car emitting a pale yellow glow provided little comfort. It was a few moments before we emerged from the tunnel back into sunlight.
I pulled the letter from the envelope and reviewed it again. Looking for a hidden meaning. Looking for the danger in the words written there. This BellaDavor was as straightforward about her nature as one could possibly be. A woman possessed--and quite literally.
I had volunteered for this, I hand picked my team. When I gave them the option they accepted without hesitation. Blanka sat in the seat ahead, her head bent over a book. Elsbeth sat next to me. She studied the faces of the other passengers. Watching their expressions. Reading their eyes. Peering into their respective stories. Her hands were folded neatly, covered in silky white gloves that boldly contrasted against her dark skin. It looked as if she could remain this perfectly poised indefinitely.
This was the first time that we’d worked together since becoming Operators. It was already obvious that Blanka and Elsbeth were a combustible pairing. It was a risk, but I was willing to take the chance. Blanka’s keen handling of high society. Elsbeth’s infinite calm and medical expertise. I took comfort in her presence. Especially now, having been at death’s door merely days before.
I glanced at the letter again, then brought it to my nose. A faint scent of perfume clung there. I inspected the words again. The writing was calm and even. The ink was pulled from the pen by a hand under no duress. Yet, she was the one asking for help.
Five hundred years.
She was old enough to see the rise and fall of nations. She would outlast ours, too, if she was allowed. Bella looked to us as our mutual enemy breathed down her neck. They burned her house and had driven her from safety. I grew more heated the more I thought on it. Hearing of a damsel in distress triggered a deep-seated need to charge in and save the day.
Bjorn was right. I was too much of a boy scout. Infinitely helpful and, yet, completely ignorant of those who prey on compassion. I needed to push this idea from my mind. This addled idea that Bella was helpless. It was a dangerous thought. It was a thought that would blind me to how capable she was. And it was a thought that would put everyone who trusted me in grave danger.
I folded the letter carefully and slid it back into the envelope. I returned to absently thumbing at it while looking out the window.
“Bani?”
Elsbeth looked concerned. Her eyes moved to my hands. My fingers were slippery. Scarlet drops stained the envelope. I was immediately aware of the thin pain tracing its way through my hand as I inspected the paper cut on my bloodied thumb.
The train trembled again and my jaw clenched unconsciously. I closed my eyes as we plunged into the darkness.
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