The impossible could not have happened, therefore the impossible must be possible in spite of appearances. -- Agatha Christie, Murder on the Orient Express

None of the monsters had much left in the way of brains. When they sensed a living immortal nearby they were overwhelmed with the urge to hunt it down and destroy it. When they were confronted with an obstacle they froze in place for hours until they finally got it into their heads that they could simply go around it -- unless they sensed prey on the other side, because then they would find a way past almost any obstacle. When they heard a noise they came to investigate, and if it turned out not to be prey they were left with no idea of what to do.

When they heard the siren a few of them had a vague idea they'd been summoned for a specific task but had no idea what it was or how to complete it. Now that it was gone they reacted with anger, the only emotion any of them still had left. Their anger infected all the other monsters. Within minutes the whole group were snarling with rage and looking for something to tear apart.

A faint whiff of blood reached some of them, the ones standing near a building. They followed it and found themselves confronted with a door. Two or three flung themselves against it. The rest of the crowd followed suit. The door flew open. Monsters surged into the room beyond.

Abi's lip stung. She wiped it and found it left a bloody streak on the back of her hand. Downstairs she could hear the monsters hissing and snarling. It sounded like they were spreading out all over the ground floor. None of them had found the staircase yet.

She ran faster. Ahead she saw a door. The stairs ended at this landing and there were no other doors beside it. She ran to it and yanked the handle. It stayed stubbornly closed. The monsters' growls echoed up the stairwell. They were at the bottom of the stairs.

It was logical that phoenix-fire should be able to melt through any lock. All she had to do was figure out how to control it so it wouldn't also melt the door and possibly the staircase.

Abi thought of the fire that usually surrounded her wings. It never burnt her, but it was certainly hot enough to leave scorch marks on anything she touched. She tried to summon that fire. Nothing happened. Apparently it only worked when she had wings. Instead she tried pressing her hand against the lock and willing it to heat up until it melted. It did indeed heat up, but at a certain point it got too hot for her to keep her hand against it. As soon as she drew back with a pained wince the metal returned to its normal coldness.

The monsters were at the first storey landing now. Abi forced herself to stay calm. Ilaran was still there, a faint presence at the back of her mind, but he was polite enough not to distract her by saying anything. She considered how quickly the monsters would get here. Too quickly for her to waste any more time with trying to melt the lock. No, she'd just have to break the door down.

She summoned her magic and threw it at the door like a battering ram. The door was blown right off its hinges and a short distance across the roof, along with the wall surrounding it. As soon as the dust cleared Abi turned into her phoenix form and took flight. She circled around the building and waited until the monsters rushed out onto the roof.

The debris from the walls tripped them up. While they were disorientated and before they could go back into the building, Abi cast one of her incineration spells at them. Seconds later the ones on the roof and the ones immediately behind them had been reduced to dust. The ones further back on the stairs had the common sense to retreat before she could attack them too. She waited but none of them came out. Nor did they reappear down in the street below. She wheeled round and started back to the spaceport.

About five minutes later she realised she was hopelessly lost. Everything looked so different at night. All the streets were more or less identical. Abandoned carriages littered all of them. Empty shops all looked the same. Even someone familiar with Gradoné would have been at a lost to tell where they were. Abi, who had never spent more than a week at most in the city before, was as confused as if she'd been dropped into the middle of a desert.

She risked dropping down into one of the streets to read the signpost. It was useless. Tragotin Avenue -- Koghaen Arcade -- Venthana Street, read the first sign. Exhibition of Galrila Art: one mile west along Osben Road, read the second one.

Have you ever heard of any of those places? Abi asked Ilaran without much hope.

Never. I've never even been to Gradoné.

Abi sighed wearily and took off again. This expedition had been a very bad idea. All she'd succeeded in doing was killing a few more of the monsters. And seeing that ship, of course. In the morning she'd have to send out a warning for Saoridhlém to keep an eye out for it. The last thing anyone needed was a zombie outbreak on Vanerth.

Already done, Ilaran said. For a terrifying minute Abi thought he meant the zombie outbreak. I mean the warning. I've sent one to your grandmother.

She continued flying around the city for a while. A nasty suspicion began to dawn that she was just flying in circles. She landed on the roof of another building. The street below was empty. Unless she counted that group of monsters she hadn't seen a single living thing anywhere, either in the afternoon or at night.

That raised some horrifying questions about how many survivors there were. There had to be some. Nothing, not even the monsters, could have wiped out the entire city. Abi told herself that over and over. She couldn't quite make herself believe it.

The best thing to do is stay here for the rest of the night. I can find my way back to the spaceport when the sun rises. Maybe I'll see some survivors on the way.

In this form she couldn't lie down to sleep. Abi flew to the flagpole sticking out of the building's wall and perched on it. She tucked her head under her wing as she'd seen real birds do. Then she closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

Kitri reached the ghurmalath-úthernu station two hours after leaving Luinnakied. She had kept a sharp eye out for any monsters and was ready to use her weapons at a minute's notice, but so far she saw nothing.

The station looked like an ordinary train station with the exception of the tracks. Instead of railway tracks running beside the station, there was a huge iron girder placed a short distance away. It supported the track that the carriages ran beneath. A long flight of steps led from the door of the station up to the platform beside the track.

As Kitri had expected, an empty carriage was stopped at the platform. It would have been the first carriage of the day, but obviously its driver hadn't come to work. She tried to assure herself that he'd just heard about the monsters and decided to stay home. His absence didn't automatically mean something terrible had happened to him.

All the same, she looked through the station windows -- the main door was locked -- to make sure there were no monsters lurking inside. She left the horse free to wander back to Luinnakied, if it could find its own way back, or to wander to a farm if it couldn't.

She ran up the stairs to the carriage. Like all the carriages on this line it was dark blue with gold highlights. The door at the back was locked. Kitri struggled with the handle for a minute. Then she gave up, took out her gun, and shot the lock.

Inside the carriage had a high ceiling and was lined with red armchairs and sofas. Kitri kept her gun ready as she walked the length of the carriage, half-expecting something to spring out at her at any minute.

The door to the driver's compartment was also locked. This time Kitri didn't dare shoot the lock in case the bullet damaged some of the controls.

In case of emergencies all the carriages had ladders attached to the ceilings and hammers attached to the walls, so that the passengers could break a window and climb down to the ground if they had to. Kitri took one of the hammers out of its holder and hit the lock as hard as she could. The door shook. She hit it again and again. Eventually the lock broke.

She pushed the door open. The driver's compartment was exactly like the one in her uncle's carriage. First she turned on the engine. It took five minutes for it to warm up. In the meantime she examined the map attached to the wall. The route to the capital wasn't on this line, but she could go as far as the Strait of Vauralok. Then she'd have to switch to another carriage that would get her to Gradoné.

If she remembered correctly there was a ghurmalath-úthernu station less than a mile from the city's main spaceport. She could send a message to Saoridhlém from the port, then take shelter in the carriage until a ship arrived to pick her up. If she was lucky she might even meet some other survivors along the way and bring them with her.

A green light switched on above the windscreen. She knew that meant the carriage was ready to move. Kitri sat down in the driver's seat. The last time she'd been in a seat like this had been just over five years ago. Her uncle had been sitting behind her, telling her what to do and ready to step in if she needed help. It was much more nerve-wracking to be alone and have to rely only on her memories of what he'd told her.

"This lever is the handbrake," she told herself. She lowered it. "Now press down the accelerator."

The carriage began to move slowly. Kitri watched the roof of the station disappear. The only controls were the handbrake, the accelerator, and the brake. There was no steering wheel; it didn't need one when it only went on this track. For obvious reasons it was impossible for a carriage that ran under a track to change to another track without a crane and a team of workmen and engineers. To avoid accidents no two tracks ever crossed paths. She had nothing to worry about except getting to the Strait as quickly as possible.

No carriage was built to go faster than fifty miles an hour. She did some quick calculations. Assuming she went at top speed the whole time -- a risky idea when she didn't know how long it could sustain that speed -- it would take her just under two hours to reach it. It would be better to go at forty miles an hour, which meant she'd reach it in closer to three hours.

It looked like she wouldn't reach Gradoné until early tomorrow morning.

Most of Gradoné's survivors had congregated in the cellars under the shops in the Kulonar area. Years ago the old catacombs had been converted into storage for the shops overhead. There were endless boxes of food, bottles of water, medical supplies, spare clothes, and almost everything anyone could need. It wasn't a comfortable place to stay -- no heating and inadequate lighting, to say nothing of no beds or bathrooms -- but under the circumstances it was the best of all possible options. The survivors could stay down here for weeks if they had to without running out of food.

From time to time some of them ventured up the stairs to see what was happening in the city. The reports they brought back were simultaneously encouraging and alarming. None of the monsters had been seen in this part of the city for a full day. On the other hand, neither had they seen any sign of life. It looked as if the city was still deserted, and they had no idea if it was safe to go out yet.

Underground and without clocks -- none of the ones in the boxes had batteries -- it was impossible to tell what time it was without venturing outside. Every few hours a guard would poke his head out of the door and tell everyone below if the sun had risen. Today he ran into the main cellar looking as surprised as if the sun had turned black.

He announced, "It's morning, and there's a great big bird sitting on top of the department store!"