Choo-choo—WHOOSH!
The Dry-Well Presidential Express Train shot across the Viaduct of the Central Plains at three hundred miles per hour, riding on a cushion of compressed wind and golden array light.
Inside the lead command car, which was as wide as a noble’s banquet hall and lined with heated red carpets, Pei Xuan sat cross-legged on a jade meditation platform.
Outside the double-paned quartz windows, the scenery was changing fast. As the train raced back from the sunny eastern coast toward Dry-Well Capital City, the green fields of spirit-wheat were already dusted with early white frost. The unnatural cold wave blowing down from the Northern Ice Wastes was so strong that even the sky over the Central Continent had turned a pale, icy gray.
“Brrrr! Even with the car’s steam-pipes turned all the way up, that northern wind is biting!”
Hong Ling rubbed her arms and poured a pot of boiling ginger tea for Old Wei and Abacus Su at the side table. She looked toward the meditation platform with worried eyes. “Young Master, the northern scouts just sent another carrier-hawk message! The cold wave ahead of the Frost-Giant army is dropping temperatures by ten degrees every hour. If that black frost reaches our northern wheat provinces, three hundred million catties of winter spirit-grain will freeze in the dirt!”
