本文首发于2024年3月11日

By Akemi Dawn Bowman

落日照耀在预兆港。一束束琥珀色光芒穿过了三角形的屋顶，在蔓延于城镇中央的粗糙沙漠草地上投下了尖锐的影子。一丛丛仙人掌零星散布于木造建筑周围，而广场中央则有一座喷泉，冒着魔法泡沫的泉水使它永远保持清凉。任务钟一如往常地于每天傍晚的日落时分鸣响，而亚契迪森依然在查看他的怀表，一次又一次。

两名银光社守卫站在邻近的一辆马车旁。其中一人正懒洋洋地啃着夹在牙齿之间的一块甘蔗。另一人则盯着预兆路，观察这座通道是否有动静。

亚契把他的表塞进背心口袋并夸张地叹了口气。这不是他第一次被银光社雇用来运输货物穿越光雷驿，不过大部分讯使都相信准时至关重要—但亚契已在喷泉旁等候超过一个小时了。

若这是来自另一位雇主的另一份工作，他或许早就离开了。但银光社的报酬丰厚。他们提供两名武装守卫护送他横越沙漠，而且他们还支付额外费用以换取亚契保持缄默。他不能询问他要见的人是谁或他运送的是什么，但钱就是钱，而且说闲话并不会让食物出现在桌上。

不过，他还是厌恶人们迟到。

亚契再次把手伸向他的表，此时预兆路突然有了动静，这使他僵在原地。不同色度的荧光蓝宛如闪电般地裂响着，接着一个发光的人影出现了。

一名男子跨出通道口，五官被一块黑色头巾遮蔽。这不重要；亚契不认得这名男子，就像他不认得他的服装风格一样。

这个陌生人完全是来自另一个时空。

男子的视线飘过几乎没铺着鹅卵石的广场，然后落到银光社守卫身上。他默默地走过这条宽广道路，接着停在数英呎之外。他伸出的拳头里握着一个麻布袋。

亚契没多看一眼就接过袋子并匆忙地钻进马车内。

银光社守卫迅速攀上升起的驾驶座。其中一人把他的一小块甘蔗弹到沙堆里并抓紧缰绳，而两匹棕马则满心期待地把耳朵往后贴。亚契几乎没用指关节敲几下天花板马车就出发了，将带着面具的男子与通道抛在后头。

马匹拉着他们穿越尘土飞扬的地貌数英哩，马车前方只挂着一个提灯以照亮道路。它与逐渐增长的黑暗搏斗，直到亚契透过窗户只能看见一片漆黑。

他把袋子紧抓在胸前，试图找出沙漠山脉与星空交界的地平线。他希望这片寂静是个好兆头，但在内心深处，他很清楚。除非这个工作具有风险，否则他的雇主绝对不会让两名银光社守卫随行。

他预期抢匪出现—但在沙漠里发现他的却是更糟的东西。

在一道俯冲而下的燃焰中窜出一面火墙，绕着马车创造出一个无法穿透的圆环。马匹惊慌地往后仰，于是马车便震动至停止，使亚契的头撞上窗框。他痛苦地皱起脸，不停眨眼，然后惊恐地看着两名守卫跳到沙地上并抽出了他们的武器。

「怎么回事？」亚契急忙问道，心里充满恐惧。

「炼刺帮，」其中一个守卫喃喃说道。

另一位握紧了他的光雷枪作为响应。

有许多人影穿过火墙现身，丝毫不受在他们周围嘶嘶作响的火焰影响。他们无预警地朝守卫开火，将能量冲击波散射过沙地。马车侧面出现将近十二个穿孔，而银光社守卫也立即倒下。

当沙漠上只剩下火焰的霹啪声响时，那群陌生人便垂下了他们的武器。

这群人从中间分开，让路给一位巨大的人影跨步穿越，同时带钩的爪子在他底下哐当响着。火光倾泄在这只巨龙的耸现形体上，使他全身的鳞片看似闪闪发光。绝对不可能认错炼刺帮的首领。尤其是在沙漠里，他的名号更令人不寒而栗。

阿库尔。

由Kekai Kotaki作画

巨龙敲响了他的怪异下颚，将他的尾巴往后甩，接着把它当成鞭子般地挥打马车，将这个载具的剩余部分劈成两半。

亚契坐在一滩血中央，依然紧抓着袋子。惊恐地睁大了眼睛，他的生命正随着每一道颤抖的呼吸而消逝。

阿库尔看似几乎没注意到他。

巨龙从亚契的垂死抓攫中拾起麻布袋并自豪地鼓起胸膛。「终于。最后一把钥匙是我的了。」

他用一根爪子划开袋子。几块煤炭翻落至他张开的手掌中，接着他发出嘶叫，金黄色的眼睛燃烧着怒火。

阿库尔大声咆哮，并握拳压碎这些煤炭直到精细的黑色粉末从他的爪子之间渗出。他转身，不停挥打着尾巴，同时朝辽阔的沙漠嘶吼着。

在这辆残破的马车内，亚契迪森看着炼刺帮于阿库尔点燃他周围的沙地时往后退了几步。亚契感觉到火焰逐渐逼近，但他的心智却早已开始溃散。随着他吸入最后一口气，他突然涌现一股查看怀表的怪异冲动。

尽管他如此在意准时，但他却从未料到自己的死期竟来得这么早。

亚契最后一次眨了眨眼—而在远方某处，远远超出了沙漠烈焰的所在，真正的钥匙正在远离阿库尔的掌控。

电闪安妮调整了她的宽沿帽并眯眼眺望着饱受烈日曝晒的地貌，她的额头也皱起了层层纹路。她从黎明时分就一直追踪那串升起的烟，现在终于能以裸眼看见远方的焦黑来源。

在她下方，福琼不耐烦地吐了一口气。

她用戴着手套的手压了一下这只动物的脖子并靠在马鞍上。「别担心。等我们回家后，我会用你能吃的所有苹果和甜谷来补偿你—但我们可能得利用外面那些废墟来购买。」

福琼摇晃了它的弯角做出回应，明显感到不以为然。安妮咧嘴一笑。她不常这么做，但不知何故，长途旅行竟让她更愿意放松警戒。

安妮用脚跟轻推了一下米斯特，于是他们便朝升烟骑去。她在加入畅行帮早期曾见过许多着火的马车。他能够分辨一场意外与伏击的不同－但这肯定不是意外。

不过看了裂开的马车一眼她就完全知道这是谁的杰作。

阿库尔来过这里。

面露愁容，安妮 用她的金黄眼睛眺望被烧灼的地貌，检查幻影的迹象。确信她独自一人，她便下马并走向马车残骸。她踢开这一大片堆积的灰烬，有许多骨头散落到一旁。

她试着不去想它们属于谁。好奇心除了让她成为一个更大的目标以外毫无帮助。

把手探向座椅仅存的部分，安妮扯了一下露出一个隐密的隔间。里面放着一个上锁的箱子，完好无缺。她用腰带上的一把口袋小刀撬开盖子并发现多叠现金。

发生像这样的攻击看似只会有一两种原因：金钱或复仇。但她心里觉得某件事不对劲。

即使她知道最好别去探究，她还是这么做了。

对炼刺帮而言，将焚烧马车作为复仇行径也太温和了；阿库尔偏好浮夸作风，通常公开执行。但他们却抛下金钱—这表示他们在追寻其他东西。某个比能够喂养一整个家庭一个月的一箱现金更重要的东西。

他在寻找什么？安妮的思绪反复敲打着。而且他为了找到它已经烧了几辆马车？

她感到一阵恐惧的痛苦。她厌恶一个像阿库尔这样的怪兽正在这个时空肆虐，一路伤害无辜者，而且依然无往不利。不过她在很久以前也下定决心要尽量远离他。毕竟只要那些无辜者不是被她称作家人的人，她就不在乎。无法在乎。

阿库尔是某个她不愿再惹毛的人。但她很乐意接收他留下的钱。

由Kieran Yanner作画

安妮拾起这个带锁的箱子，将它安全地塞进其中一个鞍囊里，然后从福琼的眼睛上抹去一缕发光的鬃毛。

「你觉得你能在中午前把我们送回鞍刷镇 吗？」她问道，一边看着福琼点头回应。她爬回马鞍上并以一手抓着缰绳。「那么，好吧。晚餐我请。」

安妮的视线越过了下一座山谷，左眼的虹膜正闪烁着魔法光芒。即使仍在数英哩外，她能看见在荒野中被她称为家的渺小城镇轮廓。鞍刷镇绝对不是光雷驿最漂亮的城镇，但安妮却发现它具有其他魅力—主要是因为它远离尘嚣。她已开始欣赏那份寂静，以及随之而来的隐姓埋名。

安妮带领福琼前往城镇杂货店外的一个水槽。当她双脚的一踩上地面，她就把鞍囊甩到肩上并走向那覆满灰尘的扭曲阶梯。

「午安，汤宁先生，」安妮说，同时捏了一下帽尖以示尊敬并让木门在她身后关上。

一名顶着灰白发的男子从柜台后方站了起来，双手紧抱着一大箱蔬菜。「我没料到今天会遇见你！早上我有一个要送去你牧场的货品—当然，除非你在这里做些更动。」他哼了一声把板条箱放到邻近的货架上，站到一旁，并立即用手按着他的背。「当你变老后事情的运作都不一样了，」他皱着脸说。「但我想这还是比替代方案好。」

安妮碰一声地把锁箱放在弯曲的工作台上。「对于你那些老骨头我帮不上什么忙，但这应该能让你开心点。」

汤宁先生掀开盖子并立刻面露喜色。「你对我太好了。」

安妮看着他把现金分成等量的两份。他把他的部分放在柜台后方的保险箱里，而安妮则把她的那一份装在臀部上的背包内。

「你确定不会有人来寻找这种钱吗？」他问道，一边旋转保险箱上的密码盘。

焚烧马车的景象从安妮心中一闪而过，但只要谈到她发现战利品的地点与方法，她自有其原则。

「不会有人浪费时间跋涉穿越荒野寻找一个连他们也没注意到丢失的箱子，」她指出这点。「此外，我和福琼在那片沙漠里没看见半个人影。留下那些钱的人到现在早就不知所踪。」

他点了点头，表情逐渐软化。「如果不是你，我不确定我们的小小城镇能否存活这么久。我们真的很感激你。一直都是，永远都是。」

「我想的是我持续付款以防你们所有人把我卖给出最高价者。」安妮扬起一道眉毛。「如果我是这座城镇的英雄，我们或许应该重新谈谈关于五五分帐的事。」

汤宁先生的笑声在狭小的店铺内隆隆作响。「这个嘛，嗯，你知道他们会说什么；如果不是因为破产 …」

安妮越过柜台指向沿着墙面排列的一篮篮农产品。「那么，可以拿一些苹果吗？我也答应福琼我会在这里拿一些甜谷。」

他伸向一颗最闪亮的红色苹果并把它抛过柜台。安妮捧着双手从半空中一把抓住它。

「告诉福琼这是由本店招待，」他说。「我会在早上把剩下的送过去。」

安妮倾斜了一下她的帽子致意并转向门口。「乐意之至。」

她骑向鞍刷镇的郊区并刚好在落日之前抵达他们的小牧场。她在前往房子的路上于邻近的原野停留，让福琼在此与其他动物一同吃草。有时候它会跟着最后一道日光消失—一会儿出现在这，下一秒又不见踪影。虽然安妮从不知道它去哪里或它在忙什么，但它总会归返。他们之间有一种不言而喻的默契。

安妮看着它一会儿。它的标记和她其他的银鬃马一样，但福琼并不是一只让她成名的生物。它的智力跟她遇过的任何人类不相上下—不过福琼的方向感却完全是另一回事。在那种情况下他们是绝配；安妮协助福琼在沙漠里定向，而福琼则提供她一种她一阵子没感受过的信任感。

安妮离开栅门，紧抓着背包的背带，并吃力地踏上泥土路朝她的屋子走去。她过度专注在福琼以及过往的回忆上，因此她几乎已抵达门廊才发现有个人正站在阶梯底部。

她立刻把手移向塞在臀部上方的刀子，手指不停颤动。她眼前的男子打扮得像某个来自城里的人，穿着一件合身的利落套装以及过度抛光的靴子。他的波浪金发被往上且往后梳，而且他的眉宇之间透露一种自命不凡的气息，这立刻就招致了安妮的反感。

「你在我的资产上做什么？」她质问道，声音变得尖锐。

这位陌生人咧嘴一笑。「你就是人称电闪安妮且恶名昭彰的前狂徒吗？」

她因这句话而畏缩了一下，不愿想起她与罪犯共事的日子。尤其在她的外甥出事后更不愿想起。「你是？」

男子保持着笑容。「我大老远从城市跑来亲自见你一面。我想你可以说我是个大粉丝。」

「那只提供了半个答案，」她冷淡地说。她的左眼闪过些许橘色光芒，接着她看穿了这名男子在幻影底下的真面目。她皱起眉头。「一个仙灵在偏远的荒野里会有什么事？」

男子露出恶作剧的笑容，接着他将外貌变回他的自然形态—墨黑色的头发，尖耳，还有一张看似洒了银粉的苍白脸孔。他假装鞠躬行礼。「很高兴认识你，电闪安妮。我的名字是瓯柯—而你那看穿幻影的能力完全就是我一直在寻找你的原因。」他把头歪向一边，彷佛正在欣赏一幅画。「听说有一个天使赐给你那只眼睛。确实是个珍贵的礼物。」

「不是幻影暴露了你的真实身份。」她交叠双臂。「尽管你宣称跋涉穿越沙漠才找到我，但你的鞋子却一尘不染。」

瓯柯笑了。「在面临精准度与外表的抉择时，我偏好后者。」

「无论你在玩什么把戏我都没兴趣。我退休了。现在离开我的门廊。」她开始从他身旁走过，但瓯柯却直盯着她的背包，这使她停下脚步。

「如果金钱无法让你感兴趣，或许复仇可以，」他如此提议，声音就像一道危险的喉音。「我准备组队从一个狂徒手上窃取一件重要的东西，你或许知道他叫阿库尔。」

安妮全身紧绷，一听见他的名字就藏不住发自内心的反应。

瓯柯看似非常满意。「听说你和他之间可能有些未了恩怨。」

「你听错了，」安妮怒斥。然后她转身—面向从阿库尔差点杀了她外甥的那天起就开始为她自己打造的原野、牧场与一切—并双手握拳。「我不会回头。我不需要靠复仇来找到平静。」

瓯柯以一种看似野心勃勃的算计眼神打量着她。过了一会儿，他探入口袋掏出一个小火柴盒，侧边印着一家酒吧的名字。「拿去—以免你改变心意。」

安妮接过它，只因为她希望这会让他快点离开。

「如果连我都能这么容易找到你，可以想象若炼刺帮决定来找你的话会有多简单。」瓯柯说。「你一定是真的很喜爱这座城镇，才愿意如此竭尽全力保护它。」

安妮挺起胸膛。「你是在威胁我吗？」

瓯柯用一只手贴着他的心脏；一种真诚的手势。「当然不是。我只是指出显而易见的部分罢了。」当他放下手时，他也回复了笑容。「如果你改变心意，就来这间酒吧找我。我保证会让它物超所值。」

安妮看着瓯柯逐渐消失在道路上，手掌里的火柴盒被她愈抓愈紧。

在一个地方待太久是个错误。她已在无意间定居下来了。

发生过的事总有一天会曝光—现在，她的过去已跟随她来到世界上唯一一个她真正在乎的地方。

凯澜把最后一块金属接口抬到升降梯井上并往后退一步。他看着机器把这个装备抬升到盖了一半的中继塔的上一层。

他周围悬挂着许多尖形提灯，有如一连串星光般地沿着缆线与绳索行进，一闪一闪地对抗逐渐变暗的天空。太阳才刚落到峡谷后方不久，但空气依然闷热不已。

凯澜用手背从眉毛上抹去汗水并转头眺望这片景色—这已迅速成为他新的最爱。预兆路被夹在巨大的岩面之间，一边裂响着蓝色能量。难以相信几周前他才刚穿过这个通道。

由Magali Villeneuve作画

即使在白昼，预兆港看起来一点也不像艾卓。但凯澜并没有因为看着橘色与黄色地貌就感到思乡。他感觉到希望。

「喂—新小子！」坑内传出一声吼叫。凯澜低头发现其中一位监工正在半空中挥舞着她的手。「这些货板可不会自己移动！」

凯澜道歉，感到难为情，并急忙爬下梯子协助装载下一组零件。他搬起一个又一个，心灵再次飘向到其他城镇旅行的念头，此时一位拿着弩箭的宽肩男子咕哝了一声从凯澜身旁推挤而过。

那无疑是个银光社佣兵。那名守卫如影随形地跟着拉尔查雷克，即使他很可能是被雇来保护建筑工地而非拉尔本人。

拉尔—以及位于拉尼卡的尼米捷—正在开发一种透过预兆路的沟通方式，而那座未完工的中继塔实际上就是一个巨大、闪耀的目标。有许多狂徒社团对其科技相当感兴趣－而且不只是在光雷驿，在其他时空也有。毫无疑问，率先掌控通讯枢纽的人将发现自己变得难以想象地富有。

银光社早已投资了拉尔的研究计划。现在他们得保护它。

「晚安，查雷克先生，」监工说道。「没想到这么晚还会在工地见到你。」

「我想和你谈谈关于安装光学中继器的事，」拉尔说，接着便开始抛出一连串令凯澜跟不上的问题与规格。

凯澜转向那堆金属。他不是对中继塔和预兆路有兴趣才接下这份工作。凯澜让自己忙着整理建筑装备。他将它们各别装载至空的平台上，思绪随着每分钟过去而开始飘荡，直到碰的一声巨响才让他从神游状态中抽离。

在这座塔底，一位技术员正惊恐地拉扯一块错位的硬件，试图将它从这个巨型连接器上移除。传来另一道撞击声，接着金属窜出闪电。火花自控制组件上飞溅，但大部分能量都射向天空，一路跟随中继塔那未完工的框架直到它在空中往至少十二个不同的方向散射。

在鹰架上方高处，其中一个较大的火花击中一盏提灯，使玻璃炸裂。一位邻近的工人抬起双手遮挡脸部，同时往后朝平台边缘踉跄。他摇摇欲坠，奋力想回复他的平衡，接着发出一声凄厉的嘶喊。

男子从这座塔的高处坠落。

坑内的某些工人放声尖叫。其他人则震惊地用手指着。

凯澜毫不迟疑。他的双脚涌出金色粉尘，他飞向那名男子并在半空中用手臂抱住他，宛如一片水果般地从空中接住他并且轻轻地将他放至地面。

由Raymond Bonilla作画

工人结结巴巴地说出一些感激言词，牙齿因恐惧而不停打颤，此时拉尔现身了。他的视线从高塔移向男子，然后又移回高塔。

拉尔恼火地朝这位佣兵做了个手势。「像这样的意外会让我们的进度延迟数日。难道我对这个计划的能力期望过高了吗？」他捏了一下鼻梁，深吸了一口气。「算了。正如我之前说的，我要在安装之前拿到关于电力转换的完整报告 ⋯」他跨步离去，没再多看一眼那位坠落的工人。

一群技术员在另一波能量翻涌释出之前急忙赶往控制单元修正这个错误。用一条手臂搂住这名男子，凯澜帮助他找到靠着一叠金属箱的位子，好让他能够远离这场骚动并喘口气。

凯澜从臀部上方抽出一个装满水的皮革水壶。「拿去—喝这个。」

「你的心肠太好了，不像会从事这个工作的人，」男子在喝了一大口后指出这点。

「因为我不让你坠落？」

「不是—因为你还站在这里关心我，而且你完全清楚老板将会为此扣你的薪水。」

凯澜的视线越过这座坑穴，望向正与拉尔热烈讨论的监工。「我不是为了钱才接这份工作。」

「你真是个怪人。甚至对仙灵来说也是。」男子扬起下巴。「为什么你要接这份工作？」

凯澜犹豫了一会儿，然后在他身旁的板条箱上坐了下来。「我的前老板，伊泽霖－他告诉我我的父亲就在这个时空。我—我正试着寻找他。」

男子皱眉。「你的父亲在这座中继塔工作？」

凯澜用手顺过他的浓密头发，同时紧张地笑着。「没有。但拉尔提议要雇用我，而且他在预兆港认识很多人。不能错过这么好的机会。」

这位工人做了一个怪表情，并以一个快速的动作将剩下的水喝尽。喝完后，他透过牙齿吹出哨音。「你知道的，大部分人是为了逃避某些东西才来到这个地方。若你还没找到你的父亲，或许是因为他不想被找到。」

「我不认为他在躲避任何东西。我认为他在寻找某个东西，」凯澜承认道。

「好吧，若真是如此，我相信当他发现你在这里时，他会很高兴见到一个熟悉的面孔。」

凯澜硬挤出一道笑容并点了点头，耳朵感到灼热，他保留了一则重要的信息没说：他的父亲不知道凯澜的样貌，因为他们从未真正见过面。

男子递还水壶。「我最好该上去了。工作日几乎要结束。不是说我不感激你的帮忙，但这对你来说应该没什么差别吧？这次我会走楼梯。」

凯澜看着他消失在转角并想起他最后一次和朋友道别的时候。这让他的胸口感到一种熟悉的刺痛。他试着把它推开并决定先把金属杆堆好，这总比想着待在一个全是陌生人的新时空有多么孤独好。严格说来，就连他的父亲也是陌生人。

只要再过一阵子就好了，凯澜向自己保证。

他站起身转向他不久前抛下的杆子，此时他发现有一个高大的人影挡住了他的去路。

监工用一只手挥向那团堆了一半的装备。「结束这里的工作。你的新职务将从早上开始。」

凯澜皱眉。「新职务？」

「查雷克先生认为拥有你这种技能的人应该加入他的安保团队而非在这样的高温下工作。几天后他即将造访银光社总部—而且你要跟他去。」

「去兴旺镇吗？」凯澜问道，心跳加速。

监工面露怒容。「这可不是郊游啊，小子。你要负责照顾老板。」

凯澜迅速点了点头。「我了解，」他说，即使希望正如气球般地在他的胸口膨胀。

她突然转向升降梯。「你最好加紧动作。我要你在夜班职员抵达前把这一切收拾干净。」

凯澜藏不住他的兴奋。兴旺镇是光雷驿目前最富饶的城镇—而充满金钱的地方通常也是流言的集散地。城里至少有某个人知道瓯柯消息的机率非常高。尤其当拉尔愿意帮忙询问的时候。

拉尔查雷克是预兆港的大人物。或许他在兴旺镇也很重要。根据凯澜的经验，鹏洛客无论到哪都十分重要。

凯澜有好多问题想问他的父亲—关于他的仙灵血统，他的能力，以及瓯柯是否也曾像他一样感到被扯往两个方向。他们之间错失了好多年。有这么多他们本应共享的回忆却不存在。凯澜知道他的父亲可能不会有相同的感受。或许他会排斥他，或根本就拒绝见他。他曾听闻关于瓯柯身为一位恶名昭彰的诈术师以及他不可信赖的故事。

但凯澜从来就不相信谣传，而且他宁愿相信一个人的潜力，不愿为了他们过去犯下的错而回避他们。此外，他是瓯柯的儿子，而且那具有某种意义。

它必须具有。

凯澜已准备好和他的父亲见面。

而且拉尔查雷克即将帮忙使这件事成真。

想了解更多？点击下方图片，或后台输入“搜索”，在博识都“狂搜乱寻”吧！

OUTLAWS OF THUNDER JUNCTION | EPISODE 1: AN OFFER OF REVENGE

The sun set over Omenport. Bursts of amber light slipped past the triangular rooftops, casting pointed shadows across the coarse desert grass that ran through the middle of town. Clusters of cacti were dotted around the wooden buildings, and a single fountain sat in the middle of the plaza, water bubbling with magic to keep it permanently cool. The mission bells rang out as they did every evening at sundown, and still, Archie Dixon checked his pocket watch, again and again.

Two Sterling Company guards stood beside a nearby carriage. One of them gnawed lazily at a piece of sugarcane clamped between his teeth. The other kept his eyes fixed on the Omenpath, watching the portal for movement.

Archie tucked his watch in his vest pocket and let out an exaggerated sigh. It wasn't the first time he'd been hired by the Sterling Company to transport goods across Thunder Junction, but most couriers believed punctuality was of the utmost importance—and Archie had been waiting by the fountain for over an hour.

If it had been another job with another employer, he might've left by now. But the Sterling Company paid well. They'd also provided two armed guards to escort him across the desert, and they'd offered an additional fee in exchange for Archie's silence. He couldn't ask questions about who he was meeting or what he was transporting, but money was money, and gossip didn't put food on the table.

Still, he hated when people were late.

Archie was reaching for his watch again when the Omenpath rippled to life, making him stiffen in place. Shades of fluorescent blue crackled like lightning, and a glowing figure appeared.

A man stepped over the threshold, features hidden by a black bandana. Not that it would've mattered; Archie didn't recognize the man any more than he recognized the style of clothing he was wearing.

The stranger was from another plane entirely.

The man's gaze drifted across the barely cobbled plaza before landing on the Sterling guards. He marched across the wide path in silence, stopping several feet away. In his outstretched fist was a burlap sack.

Archie took the bag without a second glance and hurried inside the carriage.

The Sterling guards climbed quickly to the raised driver's seat. One of them flicked his bit of sugarcane into the sand and grabbed hold of the reins, where two brown horses turned their ears back in anticipation. Archie barely rapped his knuckles against the roof when the carriage set off, leaving the masked man and the portal behind.

The horses dragged them across the dusty landscape for miles, a single lantern hung at the front of the carriage to light the way. It battled the growing darkness until it was all Archie could see outside the window.

He clutched the bag to his chest, trying to find the horizon where the desert mountains met the starlit sky. He hoped the quiet was a good sign, but deep down, he knew better. His employer would never have provided two Sterling Company guards unless the job carried risks.

He anticipated bandits—but what found him in the desert was much worse.

A wall of fire erupted in a swooping blaze, creating an impenetrable circle around the carriage. The horses reared in alarm, and the vehicle shuddered to a stop, causing Archie's head to crack against the window frame. He winced, eyes fluttering, and watched in horror as the two guards leapt to the sand and drew their weapons.

"What is it?" Archie asked hurriedly, stomach filling with dread.

"Hellspurs," one of the guards muttered.

The other tightened his grip around his thunder rifle in response.

Several figures appeared through the wall of fire, unaffected by the flames that hissed and snapped around them. They fired their weapons at the guards without warning, sending blasts of energy scattering across the sand. Nearly a dozen holes appeared across the side of the carriage, and the Sterling guards fell immediately.

When the only sound left in the desert was the crackle of fire, the strangers lowered their weapons.

The group parted down the middle, making way for a large figure who stalked forward, spurred talons clinking beneath him. Firelight cascaded over the dragon's looming frame, making the scales across his body appear to flicker. There was no mistaking the leader of the Hellspurs. Not in the desert, where his name carried so much fear.

Akul.

Art by: Kekai Kotaki

The dragon clacked his strange mandibles, pulled his tail back, and cracked it against the carriage like a whip, splitting what was left of the vehicle in two.

Archie sat in a pool of blood, still clutching the bag. His mortality was slipping away with every staggered breath, eyes wide with panic.

Akul barely seemed to notice him at all.

The dragon plucked the burlap sack from Archie's dying grasp and puffed his chest in triumph. "Finally. The last key is mine."

With a single claw, he sliced the bag open. A few lumps of coal tumbled into his open palm, and he hissed, golden eyes blazing with rage.

Akul snarled, crushing a fist around the coal until the fine black powder seeped through his claws. He spun, tail thrashing, and roared into the vast desert.

Inside the broken carriage, Archie Dixon watched the Hellspurs take a few steps back as Akul set fire to the sand around him. Archie felt the flames grow close, but his mind was already fading. As he took his last breath, he had the strange and sudden urge to check his pocket watch.

For all he cared about punctuality, he never expected to be so early to his own death.

Archie blinked for the final time—and somewhere in the distance, far beyond the desert blaze, the real key was getting farther away from Akul's reach.

Annie Flash adjusted her wide-brimmed hat and squinted across the sun-beaten terrain, her forehead creasing with heavy lines. She'd been following the rising smoke since daybreak and could finally see the charred source in the distance with her naked eye.

Beneath her, Fortune gave an impatient huff.

She pressed a gloved hand to the animal's neck and leaned over the saddle. "Don't worry. I'll make it up to you with all the apples and sweet grain you can eat once we get home—but those ruins out there are likely how we're going to afford it."

Fortune shook his curled horns in response, clearly unimpressed. Annie cracked a smile. It wasn't something she did often, but there was something about long trail rides that made her more willing to let her guard down.

Annie nudged Fortune with her heel, and they rode toward the smoke. She'd seen plenty of carriage fires during her early days with the Freestriders. She could tell the difference between an accident and an ambush—and this was certainly no accident.

But one look at the split in the carriage told her exactly whose work this was, too.

Akul had been here.

Grimacing, Annie cast her golden eye across the burned landscape, checking for illusions. Confident she was alone, she dismounted and moved for the remnants of the carriage. She kicked through the wide pile of ash, and several bones scattered to the side.

She tried not to wonder whom they belonged to. Curiosity had never done anything except make her a bigger target.

Reaching for what was left of the seat, Annie gave a tug and revealed a hidden compartment. A lockbox sat inside, untouched. With a pocket knife from her belt, she wedged the lid open and found several stacks of cash.

Attacks like these only seemed to happen for one of two reasons: money or revenge. But something wasn't sitting right in the pit of her stomach.

Even though she knew better than to wonder, she did it anyway.

As far as the Hellspurs were concerned, a carriage fire as an act of revenge was far too tame; Akul preferred making a show of things, often in public. But they left the money behind—which meant they were after something else. Something bigger than a box of cash that could feed a whole family for a month.

What's he after? Annie's thoughts hammered. And how many carriages did he burn to find it?

A pang of dread roiled through her. She hated that a monster like Akul was wreaking havoc on the plane, hurting innocents along the way, and still coming out victorious. But she also made up her mind a long time ago to stay as far away from him as possible. Because as long as those innocents weren't the people she'd come to call family, she didn't care. Couldn't care.

Akul wasn't someone she'd ever cross again. But she was happy to take the money he'd left behind.

Art by: Kieran Yanner

Annie picked up the lockbox, tucked it safely in one of the saddlebags, and brushed a glowing wisp of mane from Fortune's eyes.

"Think you can get us back to Saddlebrush before midday?" she asked, watching Fortune bow his head in response. She climbed back into the saddle and took the reins in one hand. "Alright, then. Dinner's on me."

Annie pinned her gaze far beyond the next valley, right iris glinting with magic. Even though it was still miles away, she could see the outline of the tiny town in the wastes she called home. Saddlebrush was far from the prettiest town on Thunder Junction, but Annie found it had other charms—mainly how far it was off the grid. She'd come to appreciate the quiet, and the anonymity that came with it.

Annie led Fortune to a watering trough outside the town's general store. The minute she was back on her on two feet, she swung the saddlebag over her shoulder and walked up the crooked, dust-worn steps.

"Afternoon, Mr. Towning," Annie said, pinching the tip of her hat in respect and letting the wooden doors shutter closed behind her.

A man with pepper-gray hair stood up from behind the counter, hands tightened around a crate of vegetables. "I didn't expect to see you today! I've got a delivery going to your ranch in the morning—unless of course you're here to make changes." With a grunt, he set the crate onto a nearby shelf, stepped away, and immediately pressed a hand to his back. "Things don't move the same when you get older," he said, wincing. "But I suppose it's better than the alternative."

Annie placed the lockbox on the warped countertop with a thud. "Can't do much about those old bones of yours, but this oughta cheer you up."

Mr. Towning lifted the lid and immediately brightened. "You're too good to me."

Annie watched him divide the cash into two equal parts. He placed his share in a safe behind the counter, and Annie packed hers in a satchel at her hip.

"You sure no one is going to come looking for this kind of money?" he asked, spinning the dial of the safe.

The image of the burned carriage flashed in Annie's mind, but she had a rule when it came to discussing where and how she found her loot.

"No one's gonna waste good hours trekking through the wastes to look for a box they didn't even realize was missing," she pointed out. "Besides, me and Fortune didn't see a soul out in that desert. Whoever left that money is long gone by now."

He nodded, face softening. "I'm not sure our little town would've survived this long if it hadn't been for you. We're real grateful to you. Always have been, always will be."

"Here I was thinking I've been paying to keep you all from selling me out to the highest bidder." Annie lifted a brow. "If I'm the town's hero, we should probably renegotiate this fifty-fifty cut."

Mr. Towning's laugh boomed through the small shop. "Well, now, you know what they say; if it ain't broke …"

Annie motioned across the counter at the basket of produce along the wall. "How about some of those apples, then? I promised Fortune I'd pick up sweet grain while I was here, too."

He reached for the shiniest red apple of the bunch and tossed it over the counter. Annie snatched it in the air with her cupped hands.

"Tell Fortune it's on the house," he said. "I'll get the rest sent over in the morning."

Annie tipped her hat and turned for the door. "Always a pleasure."

She rode to the outskirts of Saddlebrush and arrived at their small ranch just shy of sundown. She stopped near the fields on the way to the house, where Fortune joined the other animals to graze. Sometimes he'd disappear alongside the last rays of sunlight—here one moment, gone the next. Though Annie never knew where he went or what business he got up to, he'd always come back. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of them.

Annie watched him for a moment. His markings were like her other palominos, but Fortune wasn't a creature Annie had a name for. His intelligence matched any human she'd ever met—though Fortune's sense of direction was another thing entirely. They were well suited to one another that way; Annie provided Fortune assistance in navigating the desert, and Fortune offered her a dependability she hadn't had in some time.

Annie moved away from the gate, gripping tight to the strap of her satchel, and trudged back up the dirt road toward her house. She'd been so fixated on Fortune and the memories of her past that she nearly made it to her porch before realizing someone was standing at the bottom of the stairs.

Her hand immediately moved to the knife tucked at her hip, fingers twitching. The man in front of her was dressed like someone from the city, with a crisp, tailored suit and overly polished boots. His wavy blond hair was swept up and over, and there was a smugness in his brow that Annie took an immediate dislike to.

"What are you doing on my property?" she demanded, voice sharpened at the edges.

The stranger flashed his teeth. "Are you the notorious one-time outlaw who goes by the name Annie Flash?"

She flinched at the reference, preferring not to think about her days working with criminals. Not after what happened to her nephew. "Who's asking?"

The man's smile persisted. "I came all the way from the city to meet you in person. I suppose you could say I'm a big fan."

"That's only half an answer," she said coolly. Her right eye flashed with a hint of orange, and she saw the man for who he really was beneath the illusion. She knotted her brows in a frown. "What business does a fae have out here in the wastes?"

The man's grin curled with mischief, and he shapeshifted back into his natural form—ink-black hair, pointed ears, and a pale face that appeared to be dusted in silver. He gave a mock bow. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Annie Flash. My name is Oko—and your ability to see through illusions is exactly why I've been looking for you." He tilted his head as if he was admiring a painting. "I was told an angel gave you that eye. A rare gift indeed."

"It wasn't the illusion that gave you away." She folded her arms. "It's the fact that your shoes don't have a speck of dirt on them, despite your claim of traveling across the desert to find me."

Oko laughed. "When faced with a choice between accuracy and appearances, I prefer the latter."

"Whatever game you're playing is of no interest to me. I'm retired. Now get off my porch." She started to move past him, but Oko fixed his eyes on her satchel, making her pause.

"If money doesn't interest you, perhaps revenge will," he offered, voice so much like a dangerous purr. "I've been putting a team together to steal something important from an outlaw you may know as Akul."

Annie tensed, unable to hide the visceral reaction at the sound of his name.

Oko looked pleased. "I heard a rumor there may be some unfinished business between the two of you."

"You heard wrong," Annie spat. She turned then—to the fields and the ranch and everything she'd built for herself since the day Akul almost killed her nephew—and curled her hands into fists. "I won't go backward. I don't need revenge to find peace."

Oko studied her with the kind of calculation that always seemed to follow ambition. After a moment, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small matchbook with the name of a saloon printed on the side. "Here—in case you change your mind."

Annie took it only because she hoped it would make him leave quicker.

"If it was this easy for me to find you, imagine how easy it will be if the Hellspurs ever decide to come looking." Oko said. "You must really love this town to go to such great lengths to protect it."

Annie squared her shoulders. "Is that a threat?"

Oko pressed a hand to his heart; a gesture of sincerity. "Of course not. I'm only pointing out the obvious." When he dropped his hand, his smile returned. "If you change your mind, come and find me at the saloon. I promise I'll make it worth your while."

Annie watched Oko disappear down the path, grip tightening around the matchbook in her palm.

It was a mistake to stay in one place for so long. She'd put down roots without even meaning to.

Nothing stayed buried in the past forever—and now her old ghosts had followed her to the only place left in the world that she truly cared about.

Kellan lifted the last of the metal posts onto the elevator shaft and took a step back. He watched the machine raise the equipment onto the next level of the partially built relay tower.

Pointed lanterns hung all around him, trailing down wires and ropes like a cascade of starlight, glittering in defiance against the darkening sky. It hadn't been long since the sun disappeared behind the canyon, but the air was still thick with heat.

Kellan wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and looked over his shoulder at what was quickly becoming his new favorite view. The Omenpath sat wedged between the enormous rockface, crackling with blue energy. It was hard to believe it had only been a few weeks since he'd stepped through the portal.

Art by: Magali Villeneuve

Even in the daylight, Omenport looked nothing like Eldraine. But Kellan didn't look at the orange and yellow landscape and feel homesick. He felt hope.

"Oy—new kid!" a voice bellowed from in the pit. Kellan looked down to find one of the overseers waving her hand in the air. "These pallets aren't going to move themselves!"

Kellan apologized, sheepish, and hurried down the ladder to help with the next load of parts. He lifted one after the other, mind once again drifting to thoughts of traveling to other towns, when a broad-shouldered man holding a crossbow pushed his way past Kellan with a grunt.

There was no mistaking a Sterling Company mercenary. The guard followed Ral Zarek like a shadow, even though he'd most likely been hired to protect the building site rather than Ral himself.

Ral—along with Niv-Mizzet, back in Ravnica—was developing a way to communicate through the Omenpaths, and the unfinished relay tower was practically a giant, sparkling target. There were plenty of outlaw societies who'd be interested in its technology—and not just on Thunder Junction, but on other planes, too. Whoever gained control of the communications hub first would no doubt find themselves unimaginably wealthy.

The Sterling Company had already invested in Ral's research. Now they needed to protect it.

"Evening, Mr. Zarek," the overseer said. "Didn't expect to see you on site this late."

"I wanted to talk to you about the installation of the optical repeater," Ral said before prattling off a series of questions and specifications that Kellan had a hard time following.

Kellan turned back to the metal stacks. He hadn't taken this job out of an interest in relay towers and Omenpaths. Kellan kept himself busy sorting through the building equipment. He loaded them onto the empty platform one by one, mind wandering with every passing minute, until a loud bang broke him from his trance.

At the base of the tower, a technician tugged in horror at a piece of misaligned hardware, trying to remove it from the massive connector. There was another bang, and lightning burst from the metal. Sparks flew from the control unit, but the bulk of the energy shot skyward, following along the relay tower's unfinished frame until it scattered into the sky in at least a dozen different directions.

High up on the scaffolding, one of the bigger sparks hit a lantern, making the glass explode. A nearby worker threw his hands up to shield his face, stumbling backward toward the edge of the platform. He teetered, fighting to regain his balance, before releasing a sharp cry.

From the height of the tower, the man fell.

Some of the workers in the pit screamed. Others pointed in shock.

Kellan didn't hesitate. Golden dust burst from his feet as he flew toward the man and wrapped his arms around him midair, plucking him from the sky like a piece of fruit before lowering him gently to the ground.

Art by: Raymond Bonilla

The worker sputtered a few words of gratitude, teeth chattering with fear, when Ral appeared. His eyes darted from the tower to the man, then back again.

Ral gestured toward the mercenary with irritation. "Accidents like this could set our progress back by days. Is it too much to expect competency on a project like this?" He pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply. "Never mind. As I was saying before, I'd like a full report on the electrical conversion prior to the installation …" He marched away without another glance toward the fallen worker.

A group of technicians hurried to the control unit to fix the fault before another surge of power was released. Looping an arm around the man, Kellan helped him find a seat against a stack of metal crates so he could catch his breath away from the commotion.

Kellan pulled a leather canteen filled with water from his hip. "Here—drink this."

"You're too soft-hearted to be working on a job like this," the man pointed out before taking a gulp.

"Because I didn't let you fall?"

"No—because you're still standing around here checking on me when you know full well the boss is going to dock your pay for it."

Kellan looked across the pit where the overseer was deep in conversation with Ral. "I didn't take this job for the money."

"You're a strange one. Even for a fae." The man lifted his chin. "Why did you take this job?"

Kellan hesitated before taking a seat on the crate beside him. "My last boss, Ezrim—he told me my dad was on this plane. I—I'm trying to find him."

The man frowned. "Your dad is working on the relay tower?"

Kellan ran a hand through his thick hair, laughing nervously. "No. But Ral offered to hire me, and he knows plenty of people in Omenport. It was too good of an opportunity to miss."

The worker made a face and tipped the last of the water back in one hurried motion. When finished, he released a whistle through his teeth. "You know, most people come to this place to escape something. Maybe if you haven't found your father yet, it's because he doesn't want to be found."

"I don't think he's hiding from anything. I think he's looking for something," Kellan admitted.

"Well, if that's the case, I'm sure he'll be happy to see a familiar face when he finds out you're here."

Kellan forced a smile and nodded, ears burning as he kept one vital piece of information to himself: his father had no idea what Kellan looked like, because they'd never actually met.

The man returned the canteen. "I better get back up there. Workday's almost over. And not that I don't appreciate your help, but if it's all the same to you? I'll take the stairs this time."

Kellan watched him disappear around the corner and thought of the last time he'd said goodbye to a friend. It brought a familiar pinch back to his chest. He tried to push it away, deciding it was better to finish stacking the metal posts than it was to think about how lonely it felt to be on a new plane without a single person he knew. Even his father was technically a stranger.

Only for a little while longer, Kellan assured himself.

He stood up and turned back for the post he'd left moments before when he found a tall figure blocking his way.

The overseer waved a hand at the mess of partially stacked equipment. "Finish up here. Your new shift starts in the morning."

Kellan frowned. "New shift?"

"Mr. Zarek thinks someone with your skillset should be on his security detail instead of working out here in the heat. He's going to visit the Sterling Company headquarters in a few days—and you're going with him."

"To Prosperity?" Kellan asked, heart thumping.

The overseer scowled. "This ain't a field trip, kid. You're going to look after the boss."

Kellan nodded quickly. "I understand," he said, even though hope was swelling up inside his chest like a balloon.

She turned sharply for the elevator. "Better get a move on. I want this mess cleared before the night crew arrives."

Kellan's excitement was impossible to contain. Prosperity was by far the wealthiest town on Thunder Junction—and places with money were usually a hive for gossip. The odds of at least someone in the city having information about Oko were bound to be high. Especially if Ral was willing to help ask around.

Ral Zarek was an important person in Omenport. Maybe he was important in Prosperity, too. Planeswalkers, in Kellan's experience, tended to be pretty important everywhere they went.

There were so many questions Kellan wanted to ask his father—about his fae heritage, his powers, and whether Oko ever felt pulled in two directions the way he did. There were so many missing years between them. So many memories they should've shared but hadn't. Kellan knew there was a chance his father wouldn't feel the same way. Maybe he'd reject him, or refuse to see him at all. He'd heard the stories about Oko being a notorious trickster and having a reputation for being untrustworthy.

But Kellan was never one to believe rumors, and he'd rather trust in someone's potential than shun them for their past mistakes. Besides, he was Oko's son, and that meant something.

It had to.

Kellan was ready to meet his father.

And Ral Zarek was going to help make it happen.