Wizardborn (World's First Wizard Book 3) by Aaron Schneider (classic books for 11 year olds .txt) 📗

Gzhatsk, none of them felt prepared for what waited for them—which turned out to be nothing.

The rail lines didn’t run directly to Sergio-Ivanoskye and the camp there, so they were supposed to arrive at Gzhatsk and be promptly picked up by transport from the camp. As they moved into the train station, it became clear that their escort was as absent as the occupants of the town.

No sight, no sound, no trace of anyone having ever dwelled in the place other than the buildings. As Milo climbed off the train with Ambrose and Rihyani, he could have believed that Gzhatsk hadn’t just been abandoned but forgotten. It felt as though humans had fled the place years ago, maybe longer, and as he looked out and saw fresh vegetation creeping in and around the buildings, he wondered if this wasn’t the case.

“When is the escort from Sergio-Ivanoskye to arrive?” Milo asked over his shoulder as he looked up and down the street outside the station platform, which was barren except for tufts of grass and ground cover.

“They were supposed to be here to meet us,” Ambrose said, his Gewehr in his hands as he swept the area. “At least, that was what I was led to believe.”

The low hiss of the train engine was the only sound any of them heard as they slowly stepped out onto the street. The dark windows of the hollow buildings arrayed before them were like vacant eyes staring down at them indifferently.

“How far is it to the village from here?” Rihyani asked, her dark eyes looking first at the ground and then squinting at the sky.

“Twenty or so miles due west,” Ambrose muttered distractedly, then nodded at what looked like an inn or hotel across the street. “We should get our effects and head over there. Not wise to stay out in the open.”

As though summoned by the mention of their luggage, one of the junior engineers cursed and dragged a trolley laden with their luggage onto the platform.

“So quick to see us off, eh?” Milo called, then cringed at Ambrose’s wince. Perhaps, standing in the street and shouting wasn’t the best plan.

Sweating and still swearing, the junior engineer shuffled to the stairs leading off the platform, where he managed to keep the trolley from descending catastrophically down the steps.

“Chief says to off-load and quick,” the young man said breathlessly as they started to climb the stairs. “Says he wants clear as soon as possible.”

He looked anxiously from the three companions to the train as though fearing they might leave him if he didn’t discharge his duties fast enough. Milo thought the fellow’s fears weren’t entirely unfounded.

It had taken no small amount of cajoling and threats to get the train moving again after the encounter with Mayr. None of the train’s crew had been injured when the Reich had stopped the train and boarded, but that experience had been frightening enough before Milo had released the two immense si’lat. The chief engineer had ranted about how his rig was not a military train and that he and his crew were not soldiers and could not be expected to operate under such conditions. Ambrose had seen fit to remind the man that according to dictates from the current German government, all trains were military trains if it was deemed so, but to no one’s surprise, that did not satisfy the man.

“I don’t want any part of this strangeness,” he spluttered, giving Milo and Rihyani furious glares. The chief then proceeded to say he was going to turn the train around at the nearest wye track.

Even with Milo promising that the crew would be compensated and repairs to the train paid for, it took the wizard threatening to show the man more strangeness to get them moving again with no plans for any detours until they arrived at Gzhatsk.

“Then let’s not keep him waiting,” Milo said as he reached the trolley.

The wizard nodded appreciatively at the youth and scooped up his pack and a satchel holding the alchemical reagents he’d collected while waiting for the general staff in Berlin. Usually, he kept such things in the enchanted pockets sewn into his coat, but some of them were too sensitive or too dangerous to keep on his person, which tended to get jostled around quite a bit. Among the ingredients were the si’lat swarms, condensed beyond physical reality into two fist-sized orbs.

“Tell your chief we appreciate his cooperation,” Milo said. “And please remind him that any and all requests for compensation need to go to Colonel Jorge at the office of the general staff.”

The others snatched up their things as Milo spoke, leaving a single crate on the trolley.

“That,” Milo said, pointing at the crate. “That goes back to Berlin to the general staff office. I’m sure they’ll compensate you for the trouble of transporting it, and if not, leave a note for Colonel Jorge.”

The young man stared doubtfully at the crate, frowning as he tried to find some way to refuse the instruction.

“I’m not sure that the chief planned for this,” he said, looking at Milo beseechingly.

“Stow it in back and handle it yourself then,” Milo said with a wink. “I imagine you could charge the general staff just about anything for personal delivery. Make sure you don’t open it.”

The junior engineer might have argued the point, but the train whistle sounded. After looking torn for a second more, he swore one last time and scampered back to the train, trolley and crate in tow.

Milo stood watching the train roll out, bearing his message.

“I’m still not sure that was the best idea,” Ambrose said at his shoulder as he kept watch on the abandoned town.

“It’s too late for second thoughts now,” the wizard murmured. “Let the chips fall where they may.”

7

These Surprises

Their ride still hadn’t arrived to take them out of Gzhatsk nearly four hours after the train had left the station.

They’d entered the hotel and found its dark halls as eerily vacant as everything else