Den of Shadows Collection: Lose yourself in the fantasy, mystery, and intrigue of this stand out trilogy. Christopher Byford

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СКАЧАТЬ with sturdy spandrels. The combination of these ensured that a good deal of the sand was deflected from the tracks themselves, making the clean-up reasonably painless. In fact, the only damage it suffered was when the station clock that was attached to one of these awnings was blown down, inflicting a crack upon its face. The stationmaster had set himself up a rickety ladder and proceeded to rehang the timepiece when he noticed the commotion out front.

      With everyone so concerned with the damage, nobody had noticed the single addition that had been made to the front of the station house. Its attention was first gained by a passer-by who queried why a street urchin stood stock-still in the daytime instead of putting their hands to greater use. When they had noticed what the child was paying attention to, they immediately followed suit.

      A crowd grew as word trickled out of the finding and by the time the stationmaster emerged to query the fuss, there was a fair congregation. Big news travelled rapidly in such a small community.

      Hanging from the protruding iron gas lamp near the entrance, the subject of curiosity fluttered slowly.

      It spanned four by ten hands’ length of well-woven cloth and was tasselled with gold accents. The material itself was dyed in a royal blue with shimmering gold edging that harboured ornate decorative elements. For some, it was grandeur on a scale never witnessed before. None of this, however, took away from the brush-scripted proclamation. It had been completed by hand judging by the minor imperfections, but it was worded in the way one would write a dear friend an invite. Except this invitation was to the entire town.

       Congratulations citizens!

       I have the utmost pleasure in informing you that the dreary days of boredom will be a thing of the past! Let the streets ring in celebration and of joyous rapture once again!

       Forget your woes, bring your purse and, on the first of the month, await my arrival at your station no later than 6 p.m.!

       With regards and well wishes,

       Your Servant

       - F

      When word got out of its presence, scores craned their necks upward to speculate as to the exact nature of its presence and who this ‘F’ individual was. Naturally a few claimed to have the answers and promised to provide them on payment of drink, though the only thing they earned was disdain from their peers.

      The stationmaster was quite taken aback at the attention and had insisted they removed the addition on account of it being a hazard, but the outcry was so great he had no choice but to concede. There the invitation stayed and was scrutinized.

      The first of the month was only five days away and this was an unfathomable time to fill with speculation, but somehow the people managed. Gossip was rife over factory floors, where even the chattering machines failed to drown out the latest guesswork. There was not a stallholder you could talk to or a drinking hole you could indulge in without the mysterious invitation becoming the main topic of conversation.

      Even the most grizzled of labourers found themselves accommodating such talk. Rustec was abuzz with rumour. Just exactly where had that flyer come from, and who was this entertainer making such promises? More to the point, why would they visit this wind-ravaged dustbowl?

      Things reached such a fervour that the town’s own mayor had to issue a statement urging calm, but this did little. The people of Rustec had scant offerings to look forward to, so something so theatrical ensured a wildfire of excitement to blaze between households. Children had become frenzied, running around the streets in playful packs. The community was energized in a way it had never been before, brushing away years of toil with thrill.

      The dawning of the day came and with that sunrise the expectations of the locals reached their height. Despite it being a day like any other, anticipation made time pass at a crawl. The heat remained scorching. Excitable rail station staff each conjectured whilst unloading deliveries, taking bets on whether the entire situation was an elaborate ruse.

      The markets were heaving with people, experiencing a surge in popularity as word had spread to some of the minor settlements nearby. Trapping parties had returned in possession of the more unusual creatures that roamed the wastelands, sure to bring a good price upon their sale, all the more likely with the influx of curiosity seekers.

      The town was filled with excitement and these high spirits had rubbed off on every aspect of the population’s day-to-day routine. People worked hard to make the time pass faster, ignoring the chimes of clock bells until the afternoon waned. When the sun did begin to fall on the horizon, everyone gathered in the town station – a bustling and murmuring crowd. Bodies packed every platform, stared from every window, and even resorted to climbing onto the rooftop for a better view, though a view of what they still did not know.

      The station clock bell chimed six times, prompting total silence. The announcement seemed premature as the time ticked on. Thirty seconds reached sixty. A minute became five. Doubting whispers began.

      Then, in unison, the people saw it.

      Excited cheers emanated as those on the platform turned their sights down the tracks. On the horizon, a small shape hugged the railroad that carved through the canyon, a trail of white following with each contour before speeding out and into clear view. Plumes of thick steam belched into the fading sky. The locomotive’s wheels pounded the rails in urgency, racing to its destination. Dust-storm or no, the train was never late. It had the most urgent of appointments to keep.

      * * *

      On board, the carriage’s interiors were veiled in darkness. Lamps had been extinguished, leaving a line of silhouetted figures standing in well-rehearsed placements, patient and silent. As the man strode through, he flattened his jacket lapels, rechecked his cufflinks for the umpteenth time, and resisted the urge to view those he passed. They were perfect, down to the smallest detail. Of course they were perfect. They were employed to be nothing but and had been educated well to maintain this quality.

      ‘We’re landing in five minutes everyone.’ He spoke firmly, with conviction. ‘Let’s give these nice folk something to talk about.’

      The train’s rhythmic puffing subsided on approach, slowing as the locomotive advanced to the station and began to crawl alongside the platform edges. It blew no whistle, instead announcing itself by presence alone.

      The awe this vehicle inspired was borderline divine. Bright reds along each carriage emitted a vibrancy that many had forgotten out here in the desert. Paint normally became ruined by the extreme temperature changes, making it destined to crack and peel after its eventual submission. It was why any machinery in Rustec fell afoul of the environment and before long was thrown into a corroded heap. No such toil had taken this train though. One would have mistaken it to have rolled off the factory line that very day.

      The boiler exhaled in a glorious hiss; pistons creaked and groaned as the locomotive brought itself to a halt. The lavishly decorated vehicle exhaled steam as if it was a proud, generous creature who blessed everyone with its presence. A large swathe of white stars and red flares whipped in large contours along the gilded carriages. Striking italic letters spelt out the vehicle’s name.

       The Gambler’s Den

      It would be easy to conclude that this was just another train despite the theatrics, if the revellers didn’t take in those wonderful letters. The Gambler’s Den was nothing more than a myth in these parts – one that nobody believed to actually carry truth. Those who had heard the СКАЧАТЬ