Page 54 of Stealing Tink

“Why?” says Venus. “She’s right here. Why go out of our way?”

The Nomad doesn’t have to answer because Lars waves Venus off. “Injecting her with her own faerie dust would do no good,” he says, as if she’s stupid for even suggesting it. “We need to instigate an immune response to encourage her body to heal, meaning her body needs to recognize the faerie dust as a foreign substance. It’ll have to be sourced from a different faerie.”

I can’t scribble quickly enough. We’re not bloodletting someone else.

“That won’t be necessary,” says the Nomad. “There’s plenty of unrefined faerie dust out there in the world already.”

“Sure, dust that’s heavily guarded by the Company,” Phoenix says. “You might be the single richest man in the world, but you forget how many resources the Company has.”

“I don’t forget much,” says the Nomad. Phoenix sneers at him, but the Nomad continues, “And if you doubt our ability to steal from the Company, I wonder how you expect us to steal from a Fate.”

Phoenix glares at him, but she must not have an argument against that, because she remains quiet.

Not to be pessimistic, I write, but how are we going to steal from the Company? Phoenix isn’t wrong. Their factories are practically impenetrable.

“I never said we were going to rob one of their factories,” says the Nomad.

“Well, that is where faerie dust is made and stored,” says Venus.

“Yes,” says the Nomad, drawing out the word, “but not where it’s used. You’re all forgetting something. In order to get into the consumer’s hand, in order to power the lights in the kingdom’s great city, what has to happen?” He directs the question toward Phoenix.

“It has to be transported,” she says.

“Exactly.”

From the corner, Acel, who up to this point hasn’t contributed at all to this conversation, lets out a deep chuckle. “You mean we’re going to rob a train?”

“That, my friend,” says the Nomad, “is exactly what I mean.”

“Impossible,” says Acel. “Her Majesty has frequent dealings with the Company. I’ve sat in on plenty of their negotiations. These trains are guarded more heavily than the factories are, and their guards are licensed to use lethal force.”

“Yes, thanks to your dear queen’s orders,” says the Nomad, to which Acel bristles. “Oh, please,” the Nomad continues. “If you want her to be your mother-in-law, you’re going to have to get used to disliking some of the things she does.”

“This is rather beside the point, don’t you think?” says Lars. “Please do explain exactly how you intend to rob the most heavily guarded resource of our day and age.”

“Well,” says the Nomad, “normally I would agree with you all, that it’s impossible. However, due to current events, we have something working in our favor.”

“I’m listening,” says Phoenix, sounding more like she’s listening for something to argue with.

“You see, one of the cargo train’s tracks was damaged in a fire a month ago,” says the Nomad. “The repairs still aren’t finished.”

“That’s so,” Acel interrupts. “There’s been a faerie dust shortage because people can’t get their supplies. This has been brought to the queen’s attention. The lords and city officials are concerned that they’ll be out of faerie dust by the month’s end.”

“Exactly,” says the Nomad, “which is putting pressure on the Company and the kingdoms’ governments to make sure the faerie dust gets transported somehow. They’ve tried hastening the repairs, but it’s simply too big of a job. I have heard, from an inside source⁠—”

“I’d love to hear who these sources are,” says Acel, crossing his arms.

The Nomad continues as if he didn’t hear him. “—that the Company plans to distribute the faerie dust via a cargo train that typically transports food items and less valuable resources.”

“How does that help?” asks Venus. “Surely the Company will still guard the train tracks just as heavily.”

“There’s no way we’ll be able to get anywhere close to them,” agrees Acel.

“Not by foot,” says the Nomad. “By train.”

“We just said we can’t get on the train,” says Venus.

He doesn’t mean that train, I write, staring at the Nomad. The way he grins at me, one would think he’s been hoping I’ll figure out his plan.