Page 75 of Stealing Tink

“Ow,” he groans, eyes still lazy with sleep as he blinks up at me. “You couldn’t have shaken my shoulder like a normal person?”

I ignore his whining and point across the valley toward the flickering cave light. The Nomad has better vision than me, being an unwinged Fae, and I watch as he scans the distance.

Who is it? I sign.

“Phoenix, Acel, and Lars,” he says.

Venus? I ask.

He shakes his head. “If she’s there, she’s invisible.”

Unease gnaws at my stomach. Venus doesn’t make a habit of turning invisible unless there’s a reason.

When the Nomad and I arrive at the cave, it’s Acel who’s keeping watch.

“We weren’t sure if you made it,” he says by way of greeting. “Or if you’d been blown to smithereens.” He glances at the satchels hanging off our backs. “If those are full of what I think they are, I’ll be relieved. Lars hasn’t shut up about the implications of all the faerie dust in the world being gone. And don’t even get him started on all the faeries being free.”

Lars, who seems to have been summoned from sleep by the sound of his name, shoots up on his roll-out cot. “Oh, good. I feared you were dead, and that the mission would be compromised.”

Good to know you were concerned with our safety, I write.

Lars seems to take my sarcasm at face value. “Of course I was concerned. The implications of you both dying would have been disastrous, especially considering the lack of readily available faeries. What did happen? Something must have gone terribly wrong for the train to explode.”

The Nomad and I exchange a knowing glance.

“That’s a story for another time,” he says.

It’s then that I notice Phoenix is awake, staring up at the ceiling of the cave.

I walk over to her carefully, so my hands will be in her field of vision. Where’s Venus? I sign.

Phoenix’s eyes land on me just long enough to read the sign before going back to staring at the ceiling. “Dead.”

“Oh. Venus is dead,” Lars repeats without an ounce of remorse in his voice.

I, on the other hand, shudder. It’s not that I cared much for her, but that doesn’t mean I wanted her dead.

Lars, for once noticing my expression, flits his hand. “Don’t worry. I’ve already come up with a way around having to use her powers for the final heist.”

I’m not the only one who shoots a glare in his direction. So does the Nomad before turning to Phoenix. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he says, surprisingly soft. “I know the two of you were close.”

Phoenix snorts by way of response.

What happened to her? I sign.

“As soon as you two left, everything went sideways,” explains Acel.

“The Company had guards stationed on that train,” says Phoenix, glaring at the Nomad. “But I imagine you already knew that beforehand.”

The Nomad’s expression is shuttered as he listens.

Lars speaks next. “We miscalculated. Guards descended upon our car before Acel and I could make our way to the engine to deal with the brakes. Thankfully, Acel’s skill set proved useful.”

Acel says nothing, his eyes somber. A vision of guards, necks broken, bodies strewn across the floor of the boxcar, flashes in my mind.

“After Acel dealt with the problem, he and I made our way toward the engine,” says Lars. “But there were too many of them. By my calculations, the odds were not in our favor.”

“So you abandoned the mission?” says the Nomad through gritted teeth.