Chapter 11: Cabin

Jordan was already in the cabin. She looked up from her novel—Jordan was always lugging around something to read—saw her, then tucked a bookmark in and set the book to the side.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Natalie returned, shrugging off her backpack and sitting across from Jordan. “This place is roomy.”

“First class. They’re sending us off in style.”

Natalie wrinkled her nose, her earlier thoughts—that she appreciated it, but was a waste of money—flickering into her head. But she didn’t comment. The money had already been spent, and she didn’t want to come off as an ingrate. “Sofia’ll be here, soon,” Natalie said. “Saw her saying bye.”

“Mm.” Jordan seemed amused. “Five hours together. Think you’ll survive?”

“I’ll have to.” But she wasn’t looking forward to it. With luck, they could just ignore each other.

“You know, we’re lucky she qualified, too.”

Natalie raised her eyebrows.

“We are,” Jordan insisted. “You’ve heard the stories. Tenet’s cutthroat. The whole place is a ... a whetstone. For delvers. It’s not a friendly place. Having Sofia there, a second ally, someone we can trust ... that’s more fortunate than you’re admitting.”

“Sofia. An ally.”

“C’mon, Nat. I know you two are bristly, but we’re in this together.”

“You think she thinks that? Sofia’ll dump us the moment it benefits her.”

Jordan frowned. “You can’t believe that.”

Natalie’s first response—that she did believe that—fizzled up. She sniffed. “Well. Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean I think she’ll throw herself on a sword for us.”

“I’m saying she’s an ally,” Jordan said, rolling her eyes. “Not our blood-sworn subordinate. Allies will be useful to have at Tenet.”

“Sure. I guess. But she’s out to make a name for herself, first and foremost.”

“And we aren’t?”

“I mean ... not first and foremost. It’s just up there. Obviously you’d come first, if something happened.”

Jordan paused, then glanced away. “Well, yeah.” She cleared her throat. “You too. That’s a given.” She tilted her head, peaking into the hallway. “Ah, she’s here.”

Sofia walked in.

Or, strode in. Sofia had always moved with a certain ... arrogance. Some people would call it confidence, but Natalie knew better. Her squared shoulders and lifted chin were intentional; Sofia showcasing, through body language, what she thought of everyone else ... and her position relative to them.

She was dressed comfortably, in jeans and a loose, frilly pale blue shirt. That was hardly a rare event, but Natalie had grown used to seeing Sofia in adventuring gear: leather armor, with a weapon at her hip. Usually a rapier. Sofia had always preferred a more elegant style of fighting than Natalie. They were both close-combat fighters, but inside that category, they couldn’t be much different.

Sofia was a short girl, shorter than Natalie by a significant amount, and a bit more than Jordan, who was an average height. Something about the way she held herself didn’t make her seem short, though. She had a presence twice her size.

A distinctly annoying presence. These days, just the sight of her irritated Natalie.

“Natalie. Jordan.” Her words were crisp, deliberately so. Sofia had always been someone who cared too much about appearances. Her neatly trimmed eyebrows, perfect hair, and outfit gave it away. Natalie had always thrown on whatever she had available; she’d never cared whether what she was wearing was fashionable. What kind of adventurer did? “The day’s finally arrived.” Sofia’s piercing blue eyes surveyed the cabin. “I’m glad all three of us made it.”

Natalie snorted. She saw the dig. “Came as a surprise that I did, did it?”

Sofia spared a glance for her, then sat down on the opposite end of Jordan’s bench, next to the window. She tucked her backpack underneath the seat. “Sensitive as always. I was being genuine.”

Another snort.

Jordan gave Natalie a look. Natalie had seen it before; ‘play nice,’ Jordan was saying.

Natalie guessed for the sake of keeping the peace, she’d try. Even if Sofia had been the one to start it. A five hour trip would be miserable if she and Sofia were bickering the whole way. And bickering might be ninety percent of their relationship, but stuck in a confined space, together, it would quickly become a headache for everyone involved.

And there was some truth to what Jordan had been saying. Sofia wasn’t their friend, but the three of them were from Tinford. They’d grown up together; their parents were friends. That counted for something.

The train shuddered, then started to move. Sofia must have been one of the last to board. She’d cut it close.

“So,” Jordan said. “I was wondering if the three of us could talk practicals.”

“Meaning?” Sofia asked.

“Our plans. For Tenet. Are we teaming up?”

“In what regard?”

Jordan shrugged. “Well. You’ve heard the stories. Tenet isn’t all delving and training. There’s cliques. Politics. Seeing how we’re all nobodies, we should stick together.”