The bazaar is quieter in the mornings, with many of the shops still shuttered. A few have opened early to give the passengers one last chance to shop before boarding the train. I expect to see my fellow whistlers making their last-minute purchases when I arrive there the next morning, but even the open stalls are abandoned. Meanwhile, the crowd around the Talavar is much larger than it should be at this stage of boarding.

  I frown and walk a little faster, my heartbeat accelerating as I do. The train schedule is, as Bartlett so aptly pointed out, sacrosanct. So if something is putting us behind by even an hour or two, it must be something serious. There’s a nervous buzzing in the posture of the crowd that makes me uneasy. No one seems panicked, but everyone is muttering to each other and exchanging looks as I squeeze through them.

  Finding Sakari in the crowd, I make a beeline toward her.

  “What’s going on?” I ask without preamble as I come up beside her.

  “There you are!” she looks at me with eyes alight with interest. “I don’t know exactly, but it looks like something’s gone missing. Whatever it was, it’s important because they’re searching everyone before they let anyone board.”

  I frown. “They think a passenger took it?”

  “Apparently.”

  I think of all the little treasures I’ve ferried back and forth between cars over the years. Not a single one would warrant this. To put us off schedule and trigger a train-wide search, it has to be something vital. Something of Charlie’s? I remember all the little filigreed implements in his cabin, all presumably necessary for his magic. Stealing a magic implement from the Conductor would be a high crime indeed, but surely no one would be so brazen and stupid as all that. My mind darts back to whispers in the observatory and a suspicion begins to form.

  I scan the crowd for Charlie, but don’t find him. At the nearest car door, a queue has formed for boarding. A large man in a keeper’s sash searches each passenger’s belongings before allowing them to board.

  They’re applying what seems like an unnecessary level of scrutiny. Even with a keeper at each train car, boarding could take hours at this rate.

  Sakari nudges me with an elbow. “Go find Charlie. If anyone can find out what’s happening, it’s you.”

  I don’t share her confidence. Charlie is pretty open with me about everything except magic. If I’m right that a magic implement is missing, he’ll be tight-lipped.

  Still, it’s better than just standing here, I suppose. I set off toward the engine.

  Another passenger bumps into me as he rushes past, nearly causing me to lose my balance. I regain my footing and scowl at him. Lucas casts an annoyed glance over his shoulder as if I was the one barreling through the crowd knocking fellow passengers left and right with my hulking body.

  When I reach Car 2, where Charlie’s cabin is located, the door is closed. I am not the only one trying to find him it seems. Lucas has stopped here as well, along with a small group of others—presumably all here for the same reason.

  From the little knot of people, my neighbor Bab smiles and waves me over. “Tali! Can you tell us what’s going on?”

  I shake my head. “I just got back from the city. Your guess is as good as mine.”

  Her face falls a little. “I thought if anyone would know it would be you for sure.”

  I don’t say anything but I feel a slight pang of guilt. Charlie leans on me so much when things like this happen, he’s probably annoyed I wasn’t around to help organize and communicate.

  I watch his cabin door for a few more minutes before making my way back to Sakari. I’m not going to just stand around outside the train hoping he’ll peek out. Might as well board and seek him out once I’m inside. Maybe I can still help somehow.

  “Find anything out?” Sakari asks when she sees me approach.

  “Nope. Charlie must be inside. Come on, let’s get in line.”

  “Now?” she looks hesitant.

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know, I just don’t like the thought of the keepers going through my things. Not that I have anything to hide!” she adds in response to my raised eyebrows. “It’s just… invasive.”

  I’m betting she’s got a new collection of romance novels from the city that she’s embarrassed for the keepers to see. Or maybe the keepers just make her nervous. They tend to have that effect on people.

  “Unless you plan on staying here when the train leaves, I don’t see how you can avoid it,” I observe. “Might as well get it over with.”

  She looks unhappy, but follows me anyway.

  The queue for our car is already long, but I spot Sakari’s brother Cameron near the front. When he sees his sister, he waves to us to join him. None of the other passengers complains when we do. Maybe they’re also hoping I can find something out.

  Cameron does not share his sister’s trepidation. If anything he looks excited. “What do you think they’re looking for?” he asks, eyes wide and sparkling.

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  “Something important, apparently,” Sakari opines needlessly.

  Cameron steps into the car ahead of us. I watch with curiosity as the keepers—a good-looking man, a little older than me, and a woman about Nevalya’s age with cold grey eyes—make him turn out his pockets and empty his bag. Whatever they’re looking for, Cameron doesn’t have it. No surprise there.

  I let Sakari go next for the sake of her nerves. When the male keeper pulls the stack of torrid literature from her satchel, her face turns bright red—though he appears to notice neither the books nor her discomfort.

  They’re not looking for a book. Good to know, I guess.

  My turn. I open my bag to show it to the keepers, hoping if I’m cooperative they will refrain from dumping it out on the floor. They do not.

  I watch, annoyed, as the female keeper digs roughly through my scattered belongings. She pauses when she finds the little wire horse, frowning at it as if hoping to find some fault with it. Finding nothing else of interest in my bag, she turns to me.

  I reach down to turn out my own pockets, but she holds up a hand to stop me. “Hands out to your side,” she commands. I roll my eyes and obey.

  The male keeper steps forward—he opens my jacket and checks the inner pocket first, then the outer ones. He finds some matches and tosses them onto the pile with the items from my bag. Next, my jeans. He could just pat me down, but instead he plunges his hands fully into the front left pocket, grabs the corner of the fabric, and pulls it out. When he does the same on my right, his fingers pause against my inner thigh.

  I’m about to make some scorching suggestions for other places he should consider letting his hand linger when he withdraws the hand. There’s something in it.

  “What’s this?” he demands, showing me a silver ring pinched between his fingers. I stare at it, uncomprehending. It is plain but beautiful. And covered in delicate engraved sigils, just like the spoons in Charlie’s cabin.

  “I… don’t know.”

  Did I take it absent-mindedly when I was visiting him? Is this whole thing my fault? I’m still standing with my arms out to my side, staring at the ring like an idiot, when the female keeper blows a distressingly loud whistle.

  A moment later, Charlie appears, looking frazzled. Relief washes over his face when he sees me, followed quickly by puzzlement, then concern. He looks from me to the ring to the keeper and back at me.

  “Is this the item, sir?” the keeper asks respectfully.

  Charlie takes the ring from him and stares at it for several seconds. When he turns to me, his eyes are clouded with a mix of confusion and betrayal.

  “Why do you have this Tali?” he asks quietly.

  “I literally have no idea. Charlie, I’ve never seen that before in my life.”

  “It was in her pocket, sir,” the keeper adds unhelpfully.

  The crowd outside has started to thicken near this car as word travels that something has been found and passengers consolidate. I’m still certain this is some misunderstanding that Charlie and I can sort out; we’re close friends, after all. But when his eyes meet mine again, they are colder than I have ever seen them.

  “That’s it? You have no explanation?”

  “I mean, I’m sure there is one. Obviously, I didn’t take it on purpose. You know I would never do that. Maybe I… I dunno… picked it up by accident?”

  The words sound ridiculous even to my own ears. I glance around desperately for support from some corner, though what anyone could say, I don’t know. A small crowd of the passengers who have already boarded has gathered around, among them Sakari, looking horrified, and Nevalya, looking delighted. She meets my eye, smiles slightly, then looks down at the pile of my belongings.

  “What’s that?” she asks loudly, pointing at the wire horse.

  “None of your business,” I snap.

  “No, but I’ve seen that,” she insists. “It belongs to a lady in Car 10. She’s been looking for it for weeks.”

  I gape at her, confused and furious. “What?”

  Instead of answering, she turns a mournful gaze on Charlie. “I didn’t want to believe it, but it looks like you’re not the only person she’s stealing from.”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I demand. Charlie looks at me, dazed, as if seeing me for the first time.

  Why is she doing this? Is she really this pathetically desperate to get close to Charlie?

  I turn to scan the crowd outside for Bartlett. If I can find the old man, he can tell them where the horse came from at least.

  “Oh no you don’t,” a voice says and the male keeper’s hand clamps over my wrist, pulling me back.

  “Don’t bother running love, there’s nowhere to go.”

  “I’m not running.” I jerk my arm back from him and whirl back toward Charlie. “So I, what? Stole from you and then rushed to the front of the line to have the Keepers search me? Maybe I thought my pocket was a brilliant hiding place?”

  Charlie looks uncertain for a few seconds.

  Good. He’s wavering. That’s the opening I need. I open my mouth to speak again, but Nevalya beats me to it.

  “More likely you thought you could drop the Conductor’s name and bypass the search.”

  “Shut the fuck up, you slimy, manipulative leach.” Nevalya’s startled expression might be the first genuine look I’ve ever seen on her face. No one talks to the goddess Nevalya like that.

  “You did this.” I’m seething now, and suddenly more certain than I’ve ever been in my life. “You orchestrated this whole thing. Lucas probably slipped in my pocket when he bumped into me, right?”

  Nevalya frowns. “I did it or Lucas did it?”

  “Stop. Just stop it. You are ridiculous, you know that?”

  Charlie’s eyes dart back and forth between us, brow creased in what may be confusion or concern or both. Nevalya fixes an artfully distressed expression on her face as she turns to him.

  “I told you she hates me. I don’t know what I did.”

  I’m about to fully vent my outrage at this when Charlie snaps, “Stop. Both of you.” His eyes narrow as he looks past me at the crowd watching our interaction. Then they settle on me again, then Nevalya. He looks at the ring and his expression hardens. He types something into his slate and the keeper’s slates both chirp with an incoming message.

  “We’re already late. We need to board,” says Charlie.

  He walks away without looking back. Nev shoots me a smug look and follows him.

  I can’t believe he fell for that.

  Even the best men are led around by their cocks, aren’t they?

  I tell myself it’s going to be alright. He’ll cool down, and we’ll talk later. He knows I’m his friend, and once the heat of the moment has passed, he’ll feel foolish for doubting me.

  The keepers watch as I gather my things and put them back in my bag—minus the horse, which Nev took with her, the bitch. Burning with rage and humiliation, I start toward my cabin, but the female keeper stops me.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To my cabin.”

  “You don’t have a cabin. You’re no longer a passenger on this train.”

  For the second time in as many minutes, I am nearly speechless. Nearly.

  “You can’t kick me off the train! I live here. I’ve always lived here.”

  The keeper looks like she’s actually enjoying this. “You used to live here. No thieves allowed.”

  “Okay, I know you think you’re super powerful with your little sash, but that’s not how the Talavar works. Go ask Charlie.”

  “I don’t need to ask The Conductor,” she informs me. “These are his orders. You’re lucky he likes you. You should be under arrest, but the Conductor says this will be punishment enough.”

  She stands with her arms crossed, blocking my path, then takes a step forward. For a wild second, I consider rushing past her, chasing Charlie, and pleading with him. She steps toward me again, and I take an involuntary step back.

  This is really happening. I’m really getting kicked off the train.

  Numb, I turn and walk back down the steps.