Countess Ella Wellington sat with her arms crossed in the armored prison carriage. The floor-shackled man across from her stared with intense, golden eyes. The last thing Mosley told Countess before he closed the door to the carriage was to not interact with the man. Nor was she, under any circumstances, to remove his bonds. Mosley's men had gagged him with a thick piece of cloth, and he was bloody and roughed-up. But most of all, he looked very pissed-off.

 “You’ve had better days,” said Countess.

 He nodded once and tilted his head, giving her a look that seemed to say, “So have you.”
 The carriage started moving, and they passed through Cushing Cottage’s outer gate. All the light from outside receded, leaving them riding in the dark. A strange feeling of emancipation washed over her. It was a kind of giddy relief that she felt in the pit of her stomach. She had to admit that she wouldn’t miss the place.

Ella looked outside and saw a glint of something in the distance. As they drew closer, the carriage’s external lanterns revealed a rusty, old sign in the woods. It was a white shield on a black background. In the center of the shield was: 9W. And on top, in a smaller rectangle, was the word NORTH. Countess had no idea what it meant. Was it a location? Whatever it represented, it was one of the many artifacts of the old world. A world that seeped into the present here and there, if one took the time to notice. It always impressed her, things like the sign. Despite their age, they seemed to have some kind of magical longevity.

They rode in silence for some time. Then, without warning, the inside of the carriage illuminated. Countess looked at the recessed electric bulbs overhead. She hadn’t noticed they were there until they were lit. Quite fancy, she thought, for a prisoner transport. Electric lights were a new phenomenon, often reserved for the wealthy. But the military was also replacing their gaslights with them.

Countess noticed a rolled paper on the seat next to her. It had the Yorke kingdom heraldry on its cover. She unfurled it and began to read. The front page covered the war with Saug kingdom. Pretty standard—it started two decades ago, and it wasn’t going to end anytime soon. Blah, blah, blah. There were advertisements for several local merchants. She did her best to ignore them. Inside, there was a depressing article about how crops continued to fail. Great, she thought. Now I know why I don’t read the paper.

Voices outside the carriage distracted Countess. She put the paper down and looked out of the vertical bars at a bleak scene. They were traveling through the outskirts of a town. Pirates, bandits, and people down on their luck occupied every available space. Some of their camps were out in open fields, others were in the jagged ruins of old-world buildings. Pools of orange firelight dotted the landscape. Shifty eyes and scarred, unshaven faces moved between the shadows. Their owners went about shady business, with the occasional laugh or murmur.

Someone threw a rock, which hit the side of the carriage with a loud bang. None of the soldiers outside said anything or made any move to intercept the one who had thrown it. Besides the sounds of the carriage, it was silent. Countess's senses heightened. She sat back from the window and listened for several minutes. The tension dissipated, and Countess went back to watching the world outside.
 Carts, crates, and piles of sacked goods filled the gaps between the islands of light. Glints of moonlight from metal and glass revealed long-abandoned machines. Most were overgrown with a variety of plants, reclaimed by nature. Others were only elaborate homes for spiders.

The din of sound outside increased as they entered the village. It was a typical town of poor people. Everything was lit with torches or candles. Several armored town guards were standing nearby, facing south toward the bandit camps. One of them noticed her face in the window and nodded. She hid, shrinking back from the window.

The smells of cooking food reached Countess, and her stomach started to rumble. They passed an inn, which was busy. People moved about in colorful, but plain and functional clothing. None wore jewelry or carried visible coin purses. Their faces had a somber look, like they had been victims of the nearby cutthroats. It was obvious they didn’t want to appear easy prey.

At the center of town, there were several partially-built structures and more people. Sounds of inebriated singing and laughing burst from a tavern. A vague smell of ale and vomit accompanied it. Several people passed by on foot, as well as another steam-powered carriage. The carriage was laden with hay, and its driver was quite drunk. The driver of Countess’ carriage tooted the steam whistle twice to make their presence known.

A band of minstrels began to play inside the tavern. The song sounded very familiar to Countess. She was quite sure she’d heard it played at a recent awards ceremony. It could even have been at her own retirement. She wasn’t sure. Sometimes minstrels tried new songs at official functions. If the song was well received there, they would move it along to a new location. This one is pleasant enough, Countess thought. And the tavern customers seemed to like it, too. They began stomping their feet in time.

Knights with and without armor sparred with various weapons in crudely-built, fenced circles. No doubt, they were preparing for the upcoming Yorke kingdom games. Representatives from several special military units would choose candidates from the winners. That is, if any survived. Other men and women outside the fences cheered the knights on. Some made bets on the outcomes of the fights. Several people had passed out on the grass from too much drink. Another intoxicated man was yelling something incomprehensible while he hugged a fence post.

A small group of children played nearby. But their idea of play was terrorizing a cat in a cage. Countess yelled at the kids, and they ran off. A little red-headed boy, who had been standing by himself, ran to the cage and freed the cat. The poor thing shot out like a crossbow bolt and disappeared behind some nearby barrels. The boy smiled, proud of himself, but made no effort to chase after the cat.

They came to the outskirts of town. Sounds of the village gave way to pops, groans, and clangs of battle. The ongoing war with Saug kingdom, though still distant, was intensifying.
 A mill appeared in the distance, half-hidden by the pine forest. The smell of fresh grain filled the air. Countess wondered about its power source. It had no wind sails, and there wasn’t a river nearby. And there wasn't a smokestack, so it wasn't powered by coal or wood. It was a real mystery.

Power systems and other technologies intrigued Countess. And they did relate to her work. Understanding electrical and mechanical systems could often decide a mission's success or failure. But the challenge for Countess was that the systems were getting more sophisticated. And the war was bolstering the current technical revolution's rate of progress. She cursed the thought. She was a thief, after all, not an engineer.

The carriage entered a wooded area and started up an incline. Countess heard accumulators straining, and the driver released more pressure into the system. The light from the village faded. Except for the vertical lines of an occasional tree trunk, the world outside was black.
 Countess sat back and rested her eyes for a while. She felt the carriage make several lazy turns and go over several small hills. When she looked outside again, they were emerging from the woods into a large, open field. The moon was quite full, and Countess enjoyed the view. The black outline of pine trees stood out against a lighter sky.

Then, at the tree-line below, there was movement. It was a brief blur in the darkness. The shape, whatever it was, joined several more and rushed in their direction.
 Outside, Countess heard several men yell. They had seen it too. Now, they readied their weapons and moved to face in the direction of the threat.

“Moob?” said the shackled man through his cloth gag.

“There’s something out there,” said Countess. She squinted at the black shapes. “Something moving at the tree-line. Animals maybe. I’m not sure. There’s quite a few. Moving fast. Shit! They're coming right at us!”

More confused shouting outside from Mosley’s men. The mass of black shapes dashed toward the carriage. Countess’s first instinct was to duck and hide, but she was too horrified to look away.
 Back at the tree-line, there was a rumbling in the trees. Two trunks snapped in half and fell into the field. An enormous black shape seemed to roll out of the woods, then launched itself in their direction.
 Countess shook her head. Her night vision was better than most people’s, but she was having trouble trying to resolve what was out there. The light of the moon was playing tricks on her.

“Dear god! What is…BRACE YOURSELF!”

There was a low, rumbling sound. It was soft at first, then grew louder. Countess felt it more than heard it. The mass of black shapes was at the carriage. WOOSH! WOOSH! WOOSH! Black shadows flew over the carriage one after the other. There were dozens of them. But they had no interest in the carriage. As fast as they arrived, they were gone.

Countess was on the floor with her arms covering her head. Outside several men screamed in terror, but the sound cut short.

“Moob!” said the shackled man.

“I have no--” Countess didn’t finish her sentence. Her head bounced off the carriage door, and she lost consciousness.

Something hit the carriage so hard, two of its wheels came off. It traced a lazy arc across the night sky, then landed on its side twenty feet from where it had been a few seconds ago. Lucky for its passengers, the carriage landed on the edge of a swampy area, where the ground there was soft and wet.

Countess’s ears were ringing, and she couldn’t catch her breath. She opened her eyes, and she was face-to-face with the shackled man. She had landed on top of him. The beautiful and terrible golden eyes glared at her in the dim light.

Something pushed the carriage down, something with massive weight. A large torrent of mud squeezed into the carriage from underneath. The carriage door, now underneath Countess, groaned under the pressure.

“Oh come on!” said Ella. Her clothes were getting fouled from the rising mud.
 There was a bone-chilling sound overhead. It was a kind of low growl, something that sounded like rocks smashed together in someone’s hands.

GRRRR…WHOOOSH. CLACK, CLACK, CLACK.

Countess looked up. A shadow passed overhead, then was gone. The shadow returned, then the carriage door disappeared, ripped off its hinges. Countess stared in horror at the darkness overhead. She stifled a scream when a large, glowing red eye appeared. The eye looked at her for several seconds. Then, its gaze darted around the cabin, finally settling on her fellow passenger. Countess wanted to look away, but found she couldn’t. The eye blinked twice, then it was gone.

An enormous black nose forced its way into the carriage. It sniffed and readjusted itself several times, then exhaled with great force. A torrent of hot, wet snot covered Countess's head and shoulders. Too stunned to move or say anything, Countess stared up at the thing.
 The nose retracted from the doorway, and the carriage seemed to rise a bit out of the mud.

Outside she heard sounds again.

GRRRR…WHOOOSH. CLACK, CLACK, CLACK. WHOOSH. WHOOSH. CLACK, CLACK, CLACK.

The sounds receded. Then, they were joined by the sound of breaking branches. Then, silence.
 A few moments later there were thumps on the side of the carriage. A bright orange light shone in through the top, where the door used to be.

“Anyone alive in there?” said a man’s voice. It was Mosley. “Please tell me you’re okay. Greystone will have my butt in a sling if…”

Countess wiped snot off her face with both hands, then slung it to the ground.

“Terrific!” said Countess, with wide eyes and bared teeth.

“Hmpf Hmpf Hmpf! Hmpf!” The shackled man was laughing his ass off.

“Shut up, you!” she said.

It took more than an hour to get the carriage off its side and its wheels reattached. This was due to the sucking mud it was submerged in. Parts of the carriage the monster had touched had an odor so foul that Mosley’s men refused to go near them. It would need to be fully washed later. It wasn’t long before the carriage was back in working order, and they were once again heading toward Greystone Barony.

Countess used the time to clean herself and check on the shackled man. He was fine; not much more dirty or injured than he’d started. Countess couldn’t help but feel a bit resentful of that.
 The moon was almost overhead. Frustrated at the silence, Ella reached over and removed the man's gag.

“So," she said, "what’s your story?”

“Assassin. Intel corps,” said the man. “Like you, I’m guessing.”

“I’m not an assassin,” said Countess. “And how do you know?”

“Way you carry yourself, I guess,” he said. “And the thousand-yard-stare. Standard issue in the Intelligence corps.”

Countess was impressed. Assassins weren’t thugs, but they weren’t usually the smartest people in the room, either.

“Not an assassin…” said the man. He raised an eyebrow. “And not an ambassador…no…not with that mouth.”

“Up yours,” said Countess, reinforcing the point. She was more amused than upset. “What’s your name?”

“Lin. Lin Hurst.”

Countess didn’t know the guy. She’d never seen him before. And despite him being a fellow intel operator, she didn’t trust him.

“Countess,” she said.

“Ah,” He said, “royalty eh? Retirement? Recent retirement, based on your age, I’d wager.”

Countess nodded.

“Nice, I guess…” said Lin. “Congrats. But I ain’t going out like that.”

“Suit yourself,” said Countess. “Why are you so roughed-up?”

“Mosley came for me too. Let’s just say...I didn’t go so quietly.”

“Kill anyone?”

“I have no love for these fancy, overpaid guards.” He threw his head sideways, indicating Mosley’s men outside. “But we’re all on the same team. Fratricide ain’t my thing.”

A torch-lit face appeared outside the carriage window. It was one of Mosley’s men.

“We approach the Barony, Countess. Bad news, I’m afraid.”

Moving bits of red and yellow light played on Lin’s face as he looked out the window. “Holy…oh, wow. You’re not going to believe this.”

Countess chuckled without mirth. “With the day I’m having, what else could go wrong?”