The whistle sounded as the train approached the station. People milled about on the wooden, open-air platform, waiting for the passengers to disembark.

Invictus Jones opened his pocket watch. Nine fifty in the morning. Right on time.

He smiled, marveling at the advancements in technology. The five-hundred-mile journey from the Amistad Plains to Malkin City, the Commonwealth’s vibrant capital, would have taken his grandparents over a week to complete. But he had managed the feat in a day and a night.

The whistle sounded again as the train came to a full stop.

An engineer announced their destination, and the passengers rose from their seats. Some made beelines for the exit while others took their time, gathering luggage and checking to make sure they did not leave anything important. Invictus noted the passengers as they walked by; humans, Halflings, and Fae from across the Commonwealth. Only a handful had boarded along with Invictus, and the train steadily gained passengers as it journeyed south until almost every seat was occupied.

Collecting his battered suitcase from the overhead compartment, Invictus joined the queue in the central aisle and looked out the windows. He caught fleeting glimpses of the city as the train barreled through. Brick and wooden buildings interspersed with a handful of newer steel ones, rising four or even five stories into the air. Flowering shrubs and trees grew in every available space. Ivy vines, considered a nuisance back home, coated the train station’s terminal, giving the impression that it was more plant than building.

This is home now, Invictus thought, smiling.

He stepped onto the platform. Humid coastal air clung to him like an invisible fog. Sweat broke out on his palms and brow under the gaze of a cloudless summer sky. Mercy, it was only midmorning. How warm were the afternoons?

A small light buzzed by his head. Invictus raised a hand to swat it away, but the small orb nimbly darted upwards and circled his head twice. It paused, as though studying him. The light then pulsed bright orange and flew away.

“A sprite! That was a sprite,” he told the man standing next to him.

The man, tall and thin with tan skin and green and blue eyes, gave Invictus a rueful smirk. “Uh, yeah.” He then walked towards a woman who wore a purple dress with long sleeves and a straight, ankle-length skirt. She was dark skinned like Invictus, but her eyes, orange fading to yellow at the edge of the irises, revealed that she was a Fae. She and the man hugged.

Heat rose in Invictus’s face. Judging by the eye colors, the man was either a Fae or a Halfling. Probably spent most of his life in Malkin City. Sprites, small creatures that radiated colorful lights, were as common here as grasshoppers were on the Plains.

Great, he must think I’m an idiot.

Sighing, Invictus checked the time again. Nine fifty-five. Plenty of time.

Tucking the watch into his vest pocket, he looked at the silver chain and frowned. Did men in Malkin City wear watch chains outside their pockets or inside? He glanced around and saw two men with visible watch chains. Best to leave it visible, then.

He peered around. Half the people from the train had disappeared. Where did he go next? And how did he get a cab? He certainly could not walk to his interview. Not in this heat.

“Excuse me, sir?” He flagged down an engineer, a young man with the pale complexion of the Tallinn Mountains. The man shied away.

“I done nothin’,” he said, lowering his head.

“I just want to know where to go next.”

“Next?” The man shot Invictus a furtive glance.

“Where do passengers go after disembarking?”

The engineer bit down on his lip, confused.

They have their own language, Invictus remembered. He probably doesn’t speak a lot of Malkinese.

“The building?” Invictus pointed at the ivy-covered terminal. The overhead sign read ‘Ciceron Station’. “Do I go there now?”

“Yeah. Building.” He hurried away and joined two more engineers at the front of the train. They spoke rapidly in a language Invictus did not understand and pointed at the wheel mechanisms.

Couldn’t have figured that out yourself? How many stories had Invictus read that involved trains? Passengers always went to the terminal after disembarking.

He entered and saw scores of people. Some from the train, gathering stored luggage and studying the city maps displayed on the walls. Others lined up at a long counter near the back wall, buying tickets. Station employees assisted everyone in a swift, orderly fashion.

“Sir?”

Invictus turned. A young woman stood at his side. She had the bronze skin and dark hair and eyes common among Malkin City’s human population, and she wore a light blue uniform dress with red pinstripes. A little placard pinned to the front of her uniform read ‘Pilar’.

“Um, yes?”

“Arrivals or departures?”

“Arrivals.” Did he need to show her his ticket?

Pilar pointed at a sign over one counter station that read ‘Check In’. The line, about ten people long, moved at a reasonable pace. “Go there. Give them your ticket and passport, and they will assist you from there.”

“Thanks.”

Pilar gave him a quick nod and went to assist someone else.

Invictus joined the line. Eight people stood in front of him. He checked his watch. Five after ten. Plenty of time.

“Hi there.”

Invictus turned and saw a woman standing behind him. She had a petite frame and barely stood as tall as his shoulder. He did not recognize her from the train. She must have ridden in first class, judging by the quality of her green silk dress.

“Hello,” he replied.

“New in town?”

“Yeah.”

“Where are you from?”

“Amistad.”

“Oh, is it nice up there?”

“Yes.” Six people in front of him now.

“Business or vacation?” the woman asked, inching closer and batting her long eyelashes.

“Um, business.” Invictus glanced at the line again. Five people.

“Are you nervous?”

“A little,” he admitted. This woman had asked him more questions than all the other passengers combined, and it made him more than a little nervous. But what was he supposed to do? Be rude and ignore her?

The woman smirked, her emerald eyes flashing a deeper green. “Good.” She let out a sharp whistle.

The front door burst open, and three men stormed inside. All three wore black masks over their faces. And all three drew guns, pointing them at the passengers and employees. People screamed, cowering behind furniture and backing up against the walls. One man fired his weapon into the ceiling. Bits of wood and plaster rained down.

“Don’t nobody move!” the man bellowed.

Invictus glanced at the woman, but she was gone. The green dress laid in a crumpled heap.

A fourth person joined the men. Short and petite and wearing tightly fitting black clothing. Emerald eyes shone above her mask. She winked at Invictus.

No.

No, this was not happening.

A bloody train robbery?!

These kinds of things only happened in pulp novels!

“Money, wallets, valuables. Now!” yelled the second man. He was shorter and stockier than the first and brandished two pistols.

The third man wore a wide-brimmed hat and a knee-length black coat over black clothing. He sidestepped towards the woman. Standing on her toes, she whispered into the third man’s ear. He nodded and locked eyes with Invictus.

Oh hell.

Twenty minutes. He had been in Malkin City just shy of twenty minutes, and now he was being robbed at gunpoint.

The thieves fanned out, removed canvas bags from their pockets, and forced people to hand over everything of value. Cash, coins, wedding rings, necklaces. One young woman burst into tears as she dropped her engagement ring into a bag.

The third man made a beeline for Invictus.

“I don’t have any money,” Invictus stammered. Well, he did have money. His life’s savings, in fact. Plus a few extra dollars from his family as a going away gift. It was enough money to last him three months. He did the math twice before leaving home. And the math did not account for being robbed on day one.

“Yeah right!” The thief’s purple eyes blazed.

Purple? Invictus blinked. Yes, the thief’s eyes were purple. He was a Fae. How did this Fae wind up as a thief? Everything Invictus heard growing up indicated that the Fae were intelligent and affluent, occupying the highest echelons of Commonwealth society. But the Fae also tended to be eccentric. Was he robbing for fun? Some sort of gentleman bandit?

The Fae thief shoved the barrel of his gun in Invictus’s face. “What are you staring at?” he demanded.

“Nothing.” Well, living with a tight budget for a few months was better than getting shot, he guessed. He fumbled for his wallet. The watch fell out, dangling by the chain.

“Hand over the watch, too.” The Fae held out a black-gloved hand.

Another thing Invictus had heard: the Fae were highly allergic to certain materials. Iron, silver, and sometimes salt depending on the subspecies. The watch and chain were both pure silver.

“No, I can’t give it to you. Here, take my wallet.”

The thief swatted Invictus’s hand, sending the wallet flying. “The watch. Now!” He cocked the gun. Looking into those purple eyes, Invictus knew this was no gentleman bandit. No rich kid playing a game. This man would kill him if he did not cooperate.

Invictus quickly scanned the terminal. The taller man had two guns pointed at the employees, forcing them into a corner. The shorter man and the woman gathered the last bits of jewelry and coin, tying off the bags’ drawstrings. People huddled together, too afraid to move.

“Let’s go, Wulf!” the shorter man said.

The Fae ignored him, glaring at Invictus.

“Do you really want my watch?” Invictus asked tentatively. The thief must realized it was silver.

The Fae shoved his hand in Invictus’s face.

“Fine. You asked for it.” Unhooking the chain, Invictus palmed the watch and pressed it against the thief’s exposed wrist.

The thief shrieked. A high-pitched, inhuman sound that hurt Invictus’s ears. Wincing, he wrapped both hands around the thief’s wrist, pressing the silver against his skin.

A deafening bang sounded right next to Invictus’s head. He let go of the thief, covering his ears and squeezing his eyes shut.

The world went quiet.

Strangely quiet.

Invictus opened his eyes. People ran for the door. He knew they were shouting, but the sounds were muffled, as though coming from behind a wall. The black clad woman shouted at her accomplices.

His ears popped. Sounds returned to normal, accompanied by a constant ringing.

He spied the Fae’s gun lying on the floor, no longer cocked. The Fae was on his knees, gripping his wrist and screaming. The screams blended with the ringing, making Invictus’s head hurt. Why were his ears…?

His entire body went cold. The gun… The gun had gone off next to Invictus’s head. Half an inch to the left, and he would be dead.

“Wulf!” the shorter man yelled. “We gotta go!”

“Screw him!” the taller man said. “We—”

The door burst open a second time. Men in dark green uniforms, with the golden badge of the Malkin City Police on their belts, rushed inside. They outnumbered the thieves four to one. The woman cursed.

“Drop your weapons!” one policeman yelled as his colleagues fanned out, drawing guns and surrounding the thieves.

The men looked at the woman. She stared at the police officers, eyes wide with shock. She then sneered, dropped her gun and the bag of stolen goods, and held both hands over her head. The shorter man followed suit.

“Damn you, Wulf,” yelled the taller man as he dropped his guns. “You screwed everything!”

The Fae thief stopped screaming. He rocked back and forth, cradling his wrist and breathing through clenched teeth. A bright red, circular burn covered his wrist. Small blisters began to form.

Invictus tasted bile in the back of his throat. He didn’t… He knew Fae were allergic to silver, but he never intended to hurt the thief so badly. He just didn’t want to get robbed.

Two officers walked up to Wulf and picked him up by the arms. They led him to the wall where the other three thieves were lined up, handcuffed. The taller thief cursed at Wulf. The woman ordered him to shut up.

“He’ll need a doctor,” said another police officer, a Malkinese man in his late twenties. His colleague nodded and only cuffed Wulf’s left wrist, connecting the other cuff to the thief’s belt.

The policeman then walked over to Invictus. “Are you okay?”

“I, um…”

“Did you do that? Burn him, I mean.”

Invictus nodded and immediately regretted it. The ringing in his right ear bore into his skull.

“Are you hurt?”

“No. Well, yes, but accidentally.”

The policeman nodded. “Alright. We’ll have to take your witness statement down at the precinct.”

“When?” Invictus reached for his watch and remembered he had unhooked it. The watch rested on the floor, next to his foot. He picked it up. The glass face was cracked down the middle, but it was still ticking.

And the time was ten thirteen. Was that right? Had the robbery only lasted a few minutes?

“Right now. Please come with us, sir.” The policeman gently grabbed Invictus’s arm and led him towards the front door, passing the thieves. Two officers stood guard. Wulf the Fae thief sat on the floor, shaking. Without the mask, he looked much younger than Invictus had assumed. Barely twenty years old. Wulf glanced up at Invictus and snarled.

“But I—”

“Don’t worry. It will only take a few minutes.”

“But I have an interview,” Invictus protested weakly. An interview scheduled for eleven o’clock and not a minute later, the letter had stated. The entire reason he had traveled all the way to Malkin City.

The policeman either did not hear or did not care. He placed Invictus inside a waiting police cab along with two other civilians and shut the door. The driver flicked the reins, and the cab lurched forward. Heading in the opposite direction as his interview.