The train station was older than most of the city, a veritable relic from a time without magic. Unlike the contemporary tech that ran on light or sound, the trains were still powered by liquid fuel sources. It made for an interesting atmosphere around the station. Thick, pungent air surrounded it like a cloud of fog. The flickering gas lamps, older than the city itself, spewed puffs of black smoke into the soft twilight sky, caging that smelly fog in a sort of ethereal, wispy fence.

Theodora Binx stood at the base of the station, staring up at the slick, wet steps. They still glistened from the rainfall earlier that afternoon, reflecting the purple and pink and orange hues glowing in the sky above her. She sighed, unwilling to ascend the steps until she knew he was there.

He was the whole reason she deigned to visit this stinking, rotten pit of a place. The whole reason she deigned to do a lot of things. And, before arriving at the train station, she promised herself this would be the last time. If he didn’t show soon, she’d gladly leave. She’d find the first card hall she could, drink just enough to appear sloppy, and weasel her way into a game full of suckers. It was far from an honorable means of occupation, but at least gambling was lucrative.

More lucrative than following a whimsical, troublesome man into dangerous situations at impossible locations.

A whistle—loud and unlike other city sounds—pierced the silence. Theodora startled. She was used to the soft swishing of light-powered carriages and song-powered carts. A steam engine outfitted with a whistle was hardly in her normal repertoire of sounds.

After the whistle, there came the soft clomping of boots on the ground. She turned to see Augustus making his way toward her. His brown curls were as unruly as ever, swaying slightly as he swaggered forward. His goggles spun in lazy circles as he twirled them on freshly bandaged fingers. As he grew near, she could hear his usual clinking and clanking.

Augustus was an inventor by trade and he always dressed the part. He never left home without his myriad of tools and trinkets, his glass vials and whirring bobbles and shiny, brass gizmos hanging from all manner of leather straps. When was the last time she’d seen him? It had to have been a few months. She hardly believed the messy scrawl written on the dirty note that the one-eyed owl delivered to her window three nights ago. But there he was.

Augustus Nottle was a lot of things. A whimsical dreamer. A troublesome inventor. A devastating sight to behold. Theodora braced herself as he stepped up beside her, grinning through dark stubble.

“Are you ready, love?” he asked.

She huffed out a breath. “Can’t we go by dirigible? Trains are so outdated.”

“As I explained in my missive, no. This particular adventure will be much better served by train travel,” he said.

She knew it was a lie. None of their adventures were better served by train travel. Augustus was just terribly frightened of the sky. As Theodora took one more look at the dirty old train station, she could almost understand why. If the sky could hold this much pollution in just one place, who knows what it could hold over a vast distance? And they were going somewhere she had never been before. The promise—the fear—of a new place hung as thick as the smoke and smog.

Augustus extended his warm, calloused hand toward her. Theodora threaded her fingers with his. She tried to enjoy it. Tried to enjoy the familiar press of his callouses, the scrape of his bandages, the sticky warmth of their joined sweat as, together, they ascended into the train station. It was, after all, to be the last time.

~~~

Trains, as it turned out, were not just dirty but loud. And it wasn’t just that blasted whistle. The whole locomotive shook and shuddered as it thundered across old, metal tracks. Theodora watched the city whizzing by, catching quick glimpses of parasols and streetcars and churning, oversized gears. She spotted the glowing sign of her favorite card hall and her heart grew heavy. When they returned, she would trade the intoxicating, impossible presence of Augustus for men who bored her. Men who merely saw her as a means to temporarily end their loneliness.

She loved Augustus in spite of herself, but she didn’t really prefer the company of slurring strangers. She wanted to, but in her aching heart, she knew she didn’t. They required nothing of her. Augustus required everything. And while it hurt to dwell on thoughts of how lonely her life would be without him, she knew this needed to end. This weird, codependent whatever it was.

“May as well make yourself comfortable,” he said, drawing the word out into all four of its syllables. Men at the card halls never did that. They always slurred longer words into less syllables.

She sighed at the window and leaned back against the jostling seat of the train car. “I hate trains. They’re anything but comfortable.”

Augustus laughed, deep and heartily. “You’ll adjust. You always do.”

Theodora said nothing. She merely fisted her hands in her lap to keep from reaching for him.

Still chuckling, Augustus settled against the seat beside her. He smelled of smoke and mint leaves. His arm against hers was warmer than she’d like and far more comforting than an incidental touch should have been. She leaned away from him, straining to look out the window at a different angle.

“We’ll alight from the train in a few hours,” he said. “The station at Belmire is where we’ll get our connecting train.”

Belmire was even bigger and dirtier than the city of Voxhaven. Theodora had been there a handful of times. She found the card halls rather lackluster and the players too shrewd for her liking.

“I’ll just follow you,” she said quietly, still looking out the window. Voxhaven melted into quiet towns. The gears grew smaller and the lights dimmer.

“Have you no questions for me? I so enjoy the interrogation portion of our travels,” he said.

She could hear the smile in his voice. Was she really so predictable? And could he really blame her? He never told her the details of his exploits. It was always ‘Come away with me, love’ and ‘I fear I require your companionship yet again.’

Their adventures together began five years back when they met a card hall in Serehold. He was handsome and charming. She ignored him, but he managed to talk his way into the table thanks to some dumb red-head who couldn’t see past his sparkling smile. Theodora beat him handily for several rounds of cards, winning all of his coin, three of his watches, and the very shoes from his feet. When he wagered a night of his time, she agreed, matched that wager, and suddenly found herself losing everything back to him. The next night, he came knocking at her hotel room to cash in his night. He was grinning and promising an adventure unlike any she’d had before.

He was not wrong. Together, they infiltrated the house of one of Serehold’s richest noblemen, recovered a stolen artifact and a few stolen women, and then gathered enough evidence to ensure that nobleman spent the rest of his days behind bars. It was a whirlwind of a night. Augustus topped the whole thing off by kissing Theodora so hard her knees gave out, poking her on the nose, and then disappearing from her life, and Serehold, as though he were a vapor in the wind.

It was life-changing, world-shifting, heartbreaking. Theodora cried for two days before picking herself up, leaving Serehold, and finding solace in a new city. Weeks later, Theodora was contacted by the authorities in her new city because they arrested a man who claimed she would vouch for him. That man turned out to be none other than Augustus Nottle. Her life had been a series of unsolicited whirlwinds, skirting laws and tempting fate, ever since. It was bookended by months of boredom, gambling, and Augustus’s unprompted disappearances.

She hated the man beside her on the train. And she loved him, too. Their connection was something beautiful and dreadful and all too full of questions. She gazed at him, noted that cocky grin he often wore beginning to fade, and then sighed at the train window once more.

“What’s the point?” she asked. “You won’t tell me until we get closer anyway.”

She felt his warm, calloused hand cover hers. “My adorable Dora. Why do you frown at the window so?”

She pulled her hand free, swallowing her rising emotions. The last time. The last time he’d call her pet names and give her butterflies in her stomach as he simultaneously scared the ever living daylights out of her. “For the same reason that you tease me. We’re both just following our typical ways.”

“No. You’re my formidable renegade, not some sorry sad-sack,” he said.

With a snort, she turned back to him. “I’m not your anything, love. Why don’t you go ahead and tinker with your toys while I sigh at the window some more?”

She hated herself for her sharp tongue. Hated the hurt flashing in his eyes and the frown forming on his face. It was all a lie. She’d be his adorable Dora any day. She’d hold his hand and follow him anywhere. If he would just… If he would just stick around long enough for her to tell him. To tell him all that he meant to her. All that she hoped from him.

Pushing him away wouldn’t make it easier on her, but it might make it easier on him. If he didn’t like her anymore—didn’t find pleasure in her company—he wouldn’t miss her when she disappeared from his life more thoroughly than he ever had from hers.

“Well, we’re going to a forest,” he said, straightening the lapels of his jacket. “There’s a treasure I am seeking and it’s worth more than anything we’ve found thus far.”

Of course it was. Theodora said nothing but allowed him to continue answering the questions she didn’t voice.

“You’ll need to be on high alert in Belmire. The Jackal and his hounds will be prowling about, along with the Mistress and her roving band of thieves. Did you bring your usual tools of the trade?” he asked, pausing to scan her form.

She patted the leather pouch secured to her waist. It contained her gun and her lock picking kit. As far as she could tell, those two skills were the only reason he kept asking her to join him on adventures, though he had never said as much. He nodded once before facing forward again.

They fell silent. The train jostled and rattled as it continued down the tracks. After entirely too much time passed, a whirring automaton scuttled down the center aisle, checking passengers’ tickets. Theodora watched as Augustus handed the automaton their tickets. The automaton scanned them, punched a hole in each with its brassy finger, and returned them before it continued whirring to the next passengers.

It never made sense to Theodora that trains conducted themselves in this way. Why not check tickets before leaving a station? Why wait until too much track separated the passengers from their starting point? Stowaways, upon discovery, would be left stranded in an unfamiliar city. It seemed a bit too cruel.

More time passed and the world outside of the window grew dark. The lights in the passenger car dimmed to a soft, yellow glow. Augustus began to snore. Theodora looked at him as his head swayed back and forth with the rocking of the train. It was a marvel that he could sleep with such noise and motion. They hit a bump on the tracks and Augustus’ head was jostled with particular harshness. Theodora hissed her disapproval before taking his head and guiding it to her shoulder.

He stirred just enough to cuddle closer to her. His nose trailed along her neck as he wrapped one arm behind her and draped the other along her waist. Her face heated as his snore started up again. She felt thoroughly claimed. She caught sight of their reflection in the dark train window and frowned. It was the last time. The last time she’d hear his snoring. The last time she’d feel his stubble on her neck. The last time she’d be close enough to synchronize her heartbeat with his.

Would that she could slow the old train down. Locomotives, as outdated as they were, turned out to be far too quick a mode of transportation.

~~~

The conductor’s voice crackled over the train’s rusted horns announcing the approaching stop. “Belmire. One minute to Belmire.”

“Augustus,” Theodora said, softly jostling the sleeping man’s arm. “Darling, we’re almost to our stop.”

He inhaled sharply through his nose before groaning and stretching. Theodora’s body felt cold where his arms had been. He turned to her, flashing a sleepy smile, before looking around the train car.

“Aren’t trains so soothing?” he said, his voice thick with sleep.

Theodora’s thumping headache prompted her to say, “That’s far from the first word I’d choose.”

He ran an affectionate thumb over the side of her face. “My sweet, angry woman. Does nothing please you today?” Then, as if something had suddenly occurred to him, Augustus sat up straight. A mischievous little smile bloomed on his handsome face. “Did you lose at cards again? You’re never so foul as when you lose.”

“Don’t say ‘again’ as if it happens frequently,” she muttered, shoving his hand away.

He chuckled. “I knew it. To whom will you exact vengeance? I’d love to help you plot.”

She rolled her eyes as the train rolled to a stop. From the crackling horn, the announcement was made. “We’ve reached Belmire. Thank you for traveling with us. Enjoy your stay in the Illuminated City.”

Augustus and Theodora stood, filing off of the train and onto the busy platform. Unlike the station in Voxhaven, Belmire’s station appeared to be of the times. There wasn’t nearly the smog that Theodora expected there to be, and all of the lamps appeared to be powered by light magic. Augustus cupped Theodora’s hand in his own and led her into the surprisingly large crowd at the train station.

“We’ve an hour before our next train arrives,” he said over his shoulder. “We must hurry.”

“Hurry where?” she asked, stumbling to keep up with him.

“Now you ask,” he laughed. “Come along, love. You’ll see.”

~~~

The streets around Belmire’s station were far dirtier than the station would suggest. This was the Belmire Theodora expected to find. Smokey, smelly, and full of shadows. Augustus led her down the street, still holding her hand, and turned into a very unpleasant alley.

Gears lay strewn around, rusted and forgotten. An automaton’s midsection was abandoned and a rat climbed inside, clearly at home. Theodora’s grip tightened on Augustus as a cold, autumn wind blew through the buildings and chilled her to her bones.

“Where are we going?” she whispered for the fourth time since leaving the station.

“Just a bit further,” he muttered over his shoulder.

Theodora bit her lip as she glanced at her pocket watch. They were already twenty minutes away from the station. They’d likely miss their train if they had to walk much further.

She crashed into Augustus’ broad back, stumbling a bit until he caught her arms and steadied her. With an apologetic smile, he nodded toward a blinking sign with an arrow pointing down. The sign read, ‘The Greasy Yew.’ It appeared to be a seedy sort of bar.

Inside, the air was stale and thick. It smelled of ale and cigars. An old automaton sat by a very complex piano, plunking a happy sort of tune on notes that sounded a bit sour. Several groups of men sat around the room, sipping on mugs of alcohol and speaking in hushed tones. Three women sat by the bar, their ruffled skirts pulled high. From the ample amounts of cleavage spilling out of their corsets, it was easy to guess how they earned coin. One of them smiled at Augustus as he scanned the room. She beckoned him toward her with a wave of her gloved hand.

“Wait just a minute, darling,” he muttered to Theodora. He gave her hand a light squeeze before releasing it and stepping toward the courtesan.

It was the last time she’d have to endure such a sight. She’d watched him flirt with plenty of women over the years. On any other adventure, this would feel like an insult. Theodora gave him her time for free. Why was that not enough? It no longer mattered. She could swallow her pain for one final evening, plaster on a smile for one final-

“Don’t I know you?” a slimy voice said to her right.

Theodora startled and turned toward it. A man swayed beside her. From the cloud of alcohol surrounding him and the glassy look in his eyes, she knew he was drunk.

“I don’t believe so,” she said, taking a step back.

He staggered toward her. “No, I do. You’re…you’re that wench from Voxhaven! The one who swindled me out of my rent a few months back!”

Theodora blinked at the man. Beyond the greasy hair and the scraggly beard, she recognized him. He was a mark she played with over the summer. Dumber than most, and flirtier too, it took almost no effort to win his chips and have him removed from her table. What was he doing all the way in Belmire? And how could he still recognize her after having so much to drink?

“You ruined my life!” he spit.

Oh. Perhaps that was how.

He pointed a finger at her. “You took me for all I had and you didn’t even sleep with me. How dare you!” He reached for her and she stumbled backward, bumping into a man’s body.

She turned to see a sinister smile on a strange man’s face. He chuckled as he wrapped his hands around her upper arms. He pushed her towards the drunk man even as she squirmed to get free.

“I don’t have your money if that’s what you want,” she said.

The drunk man laughed. “Guess we’ll have to find another way to settle your debt.”

The brute behind her pushed Theodora forward. She was inches from the drunk man now. The stench of his breath made her eyes water. She struggled against the strong hands holding her in place. Her gaze roamed around the room but Augustus was nowhere to be seen. Neither was the courtesan. That handsome, whimsical bastard.

“You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you,” the drunk man said. He ran a hand through Theodora’s hair. “We’ll put you in a proper dress and you can earn back that money within a matter of nights.”

“I won it fair and square,” she said, twisting and turning in the brute’s iron grip. “I don’t owe you a thing.”

There was a loud thump behind Theodora and the hands around her arms went limp. She turned to see Augustus standing behind her, a shiny, brass…something or other in his hand. It looked like an incomplete invention—one of the gadgets he was always tinkering with. Despite its incompleteness, it was clearly heavy enough to thump on a brute’s head. Behind him, the three courtesans from the bar were holding daggers and pointing them toward the drunk man.

“Is there a problem here, Cotton?” the first courtesan—the one who beckoned to Augustus—said.

“Yes,” the drunk man hissed. He made a grab for Theodora but Augustus intercepted him, swinging wildly with the heavy, brass gizmo.

“Ladies, I’m so sorry for this disruption,” Augustus said. He swung again and his metal bobber collided with Cotton’s head. Cotton’s eyes rolled and he promptly passed out.

The courtesan sighed and placed a hand on her hip. “Really, Auggie? You couldn’t have done that outside?”

“He was threatening my sweet Theodora,” Augustus said.

The courtesan’s gaze landed on Theodora and softened. She offered her a smile. “Sorry, dear. Cotton has a bit of a reputation. We won’t be serving him again.”

Theodora nodded slowly, surprised to find such gentility from a woman who shared her interest in Augustus. Normally Theodora was the target of animosity from women like her.

“Alright then. We’ve what we needed. Sorry about the mess and thank you for your help,” Augustus said. He grabbed Theodora’s hand and blew a kiss to the courtesan. “See you later, sister.”

“Yes, yes,” the courtesan said, waving him off. “No hurry, big brother.”

“Big brother?” Theodora repeated, looking at Augustus. He merely grinned and dragged her from the bar.

After a daunting sprint both to and through the train station, they made it to their connecting train just before it pulled away.