Alec Austin

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Excerpt

There is something contemptible about a man of five-and-twenty reminiscing about the good old days. This is especially true when the days in question were distinguished primarily by the number of your peers who didn't survive them.

Twelve, I reminded myself as James droned on about how he and Annie and I foiled the hijacking of the Rooksworth Express. There had been a lot of casualties on board the train that day, but only twelve of our classmates didn't make it.

Mallory elbowed me in the ribs and rolled her eyes as James got to the fight on the locomotive. "'And then, undaunted, unstoppable,'" she mouthed along with him, "'I slugged the Orphanmaker bastard right in the gob!'" She pressed a hand to her breasts, pinning a lock of fire-gold hair there as her expression became earnest to the point of imbecility.

"Be nice," I said, leaning over so I could whisper in her ear. "After all, James is a hero."

"Hush, you," Mallory said, giving my shoulder a gentle shove. I let my attention wander as James recounted how the three of us-- meaning mostly him-- had routed Morcanis's lieutenants and stopped the train before it jumped the tracks.

It was certainly a rousing story, but I remembered things differently.

--From "Casualties"