Keeper of Secrets: Chapter 1: The Arrival

[Chris in Prague]

Sylvia's growing understanding of the world of trains had sharpened her awareness, attuning her to the rhythms and sounds of the railway. For weeks, she had felt a strange tingling in her fingertips whenever she neared running water, but she had dismissed it as imagination. Sometimes, out of the corner of her eye, she caught glimpses of vague, wavering silhouettes near streams or ponds, but they always vanished when she turned to look. These odd sensations and fleeting visions were pieces of a puzzle she could not yet understand – hints of a hidden power stirring within her, waiting for the right moment to reveal itself.

One fateful afternoon, as Sylvia and Rusty took their usual stroll along the Castle grounds, the distant chug of an approaching train caught her attention. She paused, watching intently as a heavily laden goods train laboured up the steep incline towards the caverns beneath Trevelver Castle. The locomotive's laboured breaths echoed across the landscape, each exhalation of steam a testament to its burden. The acrid smell of coal smoke and warm oil mixed with the sweet scent of wildflowers, creating an oddly comforting aroma.

As the train crawled past, Sylvia's keen eyes spotted something alarming – an axlebox under one of the ammunition vans glowed an ominous cherry red, with tendrils of evil-smelling smoke curling upward. Her heart leapt into her throat, pulse quickening. Memories of Stationmaster Treskerby's warnings about overheated axleboxes causing derailments flashed through her mind. She could picture the dangers: derailment, explosion, catastrophe in the caverns under the Castle.

Time seemed to slow. The world around Sylvia faded away, leaving only her, the train, and the imminent disaster. Indecision raged within her – should she run for help? Signal the guard? But there was not time. Without conscious thought, her focus shifted to a nearby stream, the tingling in her fingertips intensifying to an almost painful degree.

[Chris in Prague]

What happened next defied explanation. A succession of shimmering orbs of water, no larger than a football, rose from the stream. They hovered in the air, pulsing, refracting sunlight into a dance of miniature rainbows. Sylvia stared, transfixed by the peculiar sight, a mixture of awe and fear coursing through her.

Suddenly, as if answering a silent call, the watery spheres sprang into action. One by one, they launched towards the train, streaking through the air like liquid comets. Sylvia watched, wide-eyed and breathless, as the glistening orbs arced gracefully overhead.

With a sound like angry cats, the spheres smashed against the glowing axlebox. Steam erupted in great billowing clouds, momentarily obscuring Sylvia's view. She rubbed her eyes in disbelief, wondering if what she had seen was real or just her imagination playing tricks.

When the hissing vapour cleared, she blinked hard and looked again. The axlebox was transformed. Its menacing cherry-red glow faded rapidly, cooling to a harmless, rusty black before her very eyes.

Sylvia stood frozen, her mouth slightly open. Had she really seen what she thought she had seen? Had she somehow made it happen?

Rusty, who had been watching the entire spectacle with rapt attention, let out a soft whine and pressed himself against Sylvia's leg. His warm presence anchored her, reminding her that this was real, not some fantastic daydream.

As the last drops of water fell onto the tracks with a soft patter, Sylvia remained rooted to the spot. Her mind was spinning, trying to understand what had just unfolded before her eyes. A whirlwind of emotions swept through her – excitement, fear, and confusion all mixed together in a dizzying blend.

In that moment, as she absently stroked Rusty's fur for comfort, Sylvia knew something big had changed. The amazing scenes from her grandmother's stories about brave girls saving the day were not just pretend anymore – she could feel something special and powerful inside her, like butterflies in her tummy but all through her body and even in her head.

A funny, almost metallic tang hung in the air around her. Sylvia had noticed this smell before, usually when strange things happened around her. She had always thought it was just her imagination playing tricks.

[Chris in Prague]

The steady rumble of the goods train jolted Sylvia from her daze—danger still loomed. Heart racing, she sprinted towards the slow-moving train, with Rusty loping alongside her, barking excitedly. Her eyes locked onto the guard's van—a weathered grey wooden box on four wheels, its chipped paint and rust spots bearing the marks of years of service. As it rolled along at the rear, Sylvia's desperate shouts pierced the air, trying to catch the guard's attention, who stood oblivious on the far side of the van's small, covered platform.

"Guard! Guard!" she called out, waving frantically. "The axlebox! It's too hot! On the ammunition wagon!"

Alerted by her cries, the elderly railwayman quickly moved to the side of the van facing Sylvia. He leaned out, his bushy eyebrows furrowing with alarm as he gave her his full attention. "What's that then, me little maid?"

"The axlebox was smoking on the ammunition wagon!" Sylvia called back, her voice urgent. She had been told that overheated bearings could seize up, causing a terrible derailment. "It's stopped smoking now, but it's screeching bad! You gotta check it when you stop! It might break!"

[Chris in Prague]

The guard's eyes widened in recognition of the grave danger, and he nodded sharply. "Yer right there, me dear! That's proper serious, that is! I'll 'ave 'em check it the moment we stops. Could've been a right disaster, that could. 'Ow did 'ee spot it, then?"

Sylvia bit her lip, thinking fast. "I... I saw smoke", she shouted, feeling better as the train slowed down near where it was going to stop.

"Well, bless my soul!" the guard shouted as the train pulled ahead. "You've done us a right good turn today, you 'ave! Thank 'ee kindly, miss!"

She stood still as the train disappeared into the reception sidings outside the caverns, her pulse racing. She looked down at Rusty, who wagged his tail and whined softly. "Did you see that, Rusty?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "The water... I think I made it move. I... I don't understand what's happening to me."

Rusty tilted his head, his brown eyes seeming to say he had seen it all. Sylvia reached down to scratch behind his ears, her mind whirling with the implications of what had just happened. She had always known she was different, but this... this was beyond anything she had ever imagined. As the reality of her newfound power settled in, a mix of excitement and trepidation filled her. What other wonders – or dangers – might lie ahead?

With a deep breath, Sylvia straightened her shoulders. Whatever this might mean, she would face it head-on. But first, she needed answers, and she knew just where to start. It was time for a long-overdue conversation with her grandmother about the true nature of those tingling sensations.