Yara is halfway down the hall towards the kitchens before she's stopped by a fellow servant and told to head to the study to meet with both Mr. and Mrs. Rivyet.

"What do they want?" she asks, and the servant shrugs.

"Beats me – they were being all cryptic about it."

"I see." Yara turns to go, pauses, turns back to the servant again. "By the way – a woman with dark hair, and grey eyes, around her mid-thirties – probably one of us. Have you seen her before?"

The servant frowns. "Maybe a few times. Not recently, though. Heard she was a personal attendant – and she's been here for a long while. D'you think she quit?"

"Possible," Yara murmurs. "Well, thank you for informing me. I'll be off, then," she says, turning to go head down the hallway back where she came before the servant even has a chance to say anything in reply.

A personal attendant, huh? she muses.

But whose?

--------------------------

"You asked for me, Mr. and Mrs. Rivyet?" Yara asks, standing in front of the table, posture impeccable and hands clasped behind her back.

"Ah, yes, Yara. Perfect," Mrs. Rivyet says, looking up from the book in her hands and closing it with a faint "thump". "I have a job for you."

Morning sunlight streams in through the window, throwing both of their shadows onto the floor, as well as the shadow of Mr. Rivyet standing behind Mrs. Rivyet, shuffling his feet nervously, eyes darting about. "My dear, are you really sure this is such a good idea –" he begins.

"Oh, I'm sure it'll be alright," she says with a wave of her hand. "Yara here has had quite a lot of practice with these kinds of tasks, after all."

Alright, now I'm curious.

"What kind of job is it, exactly, if I may inquire?"

A pause. "I'd like you to be a personal attendant for someone. Her previous attendant quit, you see, and since it's an all-hands-on-deck situation, we don't really have much people left to spare. That's where you come in – among the servants left, you have the most experience, plus you're one of the freest. We'll increase your pay, of course."

Yara's mind snags onto that one word. "Her?"

Deep inside, something begins to shift, puzzle pieces arranging themselves into place even as she isn't quite sure where they're going.

"Yes," Mrs. Rivyet smiles. "My daughter, Raine. Oh, Ella – you can wheel her in now."

Raine.

Wheel?

Behind Yara, the door opens, and she turns to see one of the servants and another girl about her age –

The reason for all of this, for chasing Kaya, for chasing the wish –

Not riches or power or immortality, but –

Milky grey eyes, unfocused, brown hair to her shoulders and sitting in a wheelchair.

"Ah, hi – Miss Yara, is it?" A serene smile, though a little awkward and unsure. "I'm Raine Rivyet – it's nice to meet you."

The last piece of the puzzle slots into place.

--------------------------

"Orivia, huh?" Allioni says, looking over Chia's map on the table as the train rumbles underfoot, winding its way through the mountains to their destination.

"Mhmm," Kaya says noncommittally, chin on her hand, watching the world fly by outside the window. It's just the two of them in the compartment, Tam and Chia having gone to the dining car to pick up some brunch (the four of them having talked late into the night the day before and only woken up late in the morning).

"Wonder what we'll find there," Allioni says. "Do you think she's even still there, though? It's been a hundred years – she might've moved, or something, right?"

"I mean, that is possible, I suppose," she mumbles, then pauses, shaking her head and straightening up. She gives him a sheepish smile. "Sorry. I've been kind of distracted lately."

"About what? I mean – not to pry, or anything, but if you're worried, you could always talk to us," he offers.

"Thanks, but it's – nothing much. Besides, you guys have already done so much for me. I wouldn't want to bother you any further. Which, by the way, thanks – and sorry for all of this trouble. For making you guys just up and leave for my sake."

"Hey, it's nothing," he reassures with a smile of his own. "You don't need to be sorry. We're your friends, remember?"

"Yeah," she says, looking down at her hands in her lap. "Thanks. Sorry again."

"No need for sorrys, remember?"

"Right. Sorry –" she claps a hand over her mouth, lowers it again. "Oops?" she winces.

A pause.

They dissolve into laughter.

--------------------------

"Well, that's depressing," Tam notes, looking over Chia's shoulder as she counts out the two novas and twenty-three solars needed to pay for their meal out of their pile of rapidly dwindling money.

"I know, right?" she sighs, handing it over to the cashier. "At this rate, we won't have enough to even make it to Orivia! Do you think Yara has any emergency cash?"

He frowns. "We could always ask... but do you think she would lend it to us if she did?"

She pauses. "Oh no, you're right," she says, horrified.

"What do you mean?" He raises an eyebrow. "I'm always right. But at any rate – we should probably take this and get back," he says, grabbing the paper bags and cups full of food and coffee (the four of them had unanimously agreed that they needed it this morning). "Or our food's gonna get cold."

"Yeah, yeah," she says, following him into the gangway connection, then into the next train car as the doors slide shut behind her. "Although, y'know –"

"Wait," he holds up a hand. "Something feels off."

She stops, glances around, then frowns. "Yeah. Seems a bit too empty –"

Click.

They've heard the sound enough times to recognize it now.

Gun.

A cold barrel, pressing up against her neck.

"Don't move, or we'll blow your brains out."

--------------------------

Train car – empty.

Two gun barrels pressed up against their necks, safety off.

No backup likely to be coming, and their compartment is still a long way off.

Tam eyes the man holding the gun to Chia's head – dressed in normal clothes, making him indistinguishable from the other passengers until he pulled the weapon out – and he feels it again.

Fear, doubt, uncertainty, creeping in, rooting him to the spot.

What now?

He hesitates, eyes darting about the empty train car, mind racing, heart pounding in his ears.

Crap.

He almost wants to laugh. All that confidence from only a few weeks running, crumbling down almost instantly.

He hadn't even realized up until now how much they rely on her.

He takes a deep breath.

Buy time.

"What do you want?" he asks, voice shaking as he shoots a look at Chia – don't move, don't fight, don't run, not yet – hoping she gets the message.

"Your friend. The Star. Where is she? And no lying – we can always kill one of you first," a woman's voice – most likely the person behind him – says.

"She's in one of the compartments further down the train."

"Alright. Now, you're going to come with us, nice and quiet, and we're going to go to your friends' compartment and get off at the next stop. There's someone who would very much like to meet the four of you. We'll be keeping our guns hidden, but don't think that means we won't be able to shoot you in an instant. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," he swallows.

"Perfect." The gun nudges at his back once, then begins to lower. "Now get moving."

Behind them, the sound of the train door opening. Instinctively, the man and woman both turn, lowering their guns further.

There is a faint "shiiiiink" sound, the glint of sunlight on metal.

The man howls as Chia stabs him in the leg with her pocket knife, and before Tam can register anything more than the "squelch" of blood and the dark red stain, she grabs him by the wrist –

"Chia, what –"

"Run!"

They do, tearing down the corridor and through the next partition, doors slamming shut behind them before their pursuers have a chance to recover – though they already are, Tam realizes, as he darts a look over his shoulder (and immediately regrets it when he locks eyes with the man, who looks very, very mad and possibly hungry for blood).

"Where to?" he wheezes out as they start down the next corridor in a shambling run.

"I don't know!" Chia shoots back, evidently panicked. "I just – acted!"

"Without a plan?"

"We're talking about me here, remember?" she looks over her shoulder, lets out an "Eep!" of surprise. "They're coming! Run faster!"

"I'm running as fast as I can!"

Okay, think, Tam, think. Fifty cars. One thousand, two hundred and fifty meters. This is the thirty-eighth car. Our compartment is in the forty-fifth.

Well.

Crap.

Whichever way you look at it, they're going to run out of train soon.

Unless they do something about it...

We're screwed.

"We need to do something!" Tam shouts.

"What?" she yells back.

"We're going to reach the end of the train in a few minutes! Pretty soon, we won't have anywhere left to run! We need to either get off the train, or find a way to get them off it!"

"But if we get off, won't they just follow us?"

"Fair point! Guess we'll need to do the latter – any ideas?"

"It's either –" Chia slams another partition door closed behind them, pauses to take a breath and continues, "we knock them out and deposit them at the next stop, or we find a way to throw them off the train."

"First one's harder, but second one's immoral." Tam frowns. "Won't that kill them?"

"Probably," she replies, her laughter more of an out-of-breath and hysterical wheeze, "but we're kinda short on options at the moment."

"Unless... Chia, how far away are we from the nearest station?"

"Twenty to thirty minutes, give or take. Should start slowing down soon –" her eyes widen, "Oh! I get it!"

"Yeah. We're going to throw them off while the train is slowing down. Hopefully that won't kill them – though it'll probably end up breaking several bones," he says with a wry smile. "Maybe it'll leave them bedridden for a while."

"But it's still a ways off," Chia frowns as well. "We'll reach the end of the train before then."

"Then we'll have to stall," he decides, then glances around. "See any good hiding spots?"