Jareth wove his way along the bustling platform. His long, dark grey travel coat swished around his calves and he used his gold tipped cane to clear a path through the crowd. He carried a sturdy leather travel bag in his other hand.

Crowds of well-wishers, eager to wave goodbye to their friends and relatives, blocked the way of ticket holders. Porters, pushing trolleys laden with suitcases, called out 'make way, make way'.

The noise was overwhelming. People shouted, whistles blew, and at the end of the platform, the iron black locomotive hissed, exuding fumes and clouds of steam.

Jareth felt strangely exhilarated. It was ages since he'd taken a train journey of any length, or gone out of town for that matter, and he was ready to enjoy himself.

He was travelling First Class, too, along with the two representatives from the Goldsmiths, Gifford and Fisher. He'd met them yesterday at the Golden Horn. Reginald Gifford had introduced himself as the chief negotiator. He was taller than Jareth, with thick blond hair swept back from his forehead and a self-important air. He told Jareth, several times, that he was the person who would be making the deal with Maybury, as if he was uneasy about Jareth's role in their expedition.

Ursula Fisher introduced herself as a scientist and said her job was to verify the truth about Maybury's invention. She was quietly spoken, neat and precise in both dress and demeanor. She responded to Gifford with polite deference, but despite Gifford's pomposity, Jareth thought she was likely to be the most important person of all of them. Surely, whether Maybury's compound was genuine or fraudulent, was the key to the whole expedition, as it would determine all their future actions.

Eventually, Jareth reached his carriage and climbed aboard, sliding his bag and cane in ahead of him so that he could grasp the handrails with both hands. Once inside, he picked them up and made his way down the narrow corridor to his compartment.

He found Gifford and Fisher already ensconced in the corners, Fisher with her back to the engine. They were both silent, reading.

Gifford looked up from his newspaper as Jareth entered the compartment.

"'Morning, Coppersmith. I see you made it," he added, meaninglessly, before returning to his newspaper.

Fisher was only slightly more communicative. "Good morning, Mr Coppersmith. It appears we shall have fine weather for our journey." She turned a page on her book and went back to reading.

Well, this was going to be a cheerful trip, thought Jareth ruefully, as he stored his luggage overhead and sat down next to Gifford. Luckily, he had brought his own reading material. He took out Stoner's A Brief History of Alchemy, and began to read.

He had only skimmed the first page when there was a sudden, loud, piercing whistle which rattled the windows, a jolt, and then the train pulled slowly out of the station.

~~~

The Express took them only as far as Blackworth, the last town in Eskia before the border with Mancuria. There, the train would refuel and prepare to make the return journey overnight to the south of the country.

Outside the station, a row of steam carriages waited to carry passengers onward to their next destination. A couple of the drivers stood outside their carriages holding signs, one to Netherfort and the other to Ashvale.

Rather to Jareth's surprise, a fourth person joined them, seeking transport to Ashvale. A small man, pulling a steamer trunk strapped to a trolley.

"Ashvale, is it? Hop in, everyone," invited the driver, in cheerful tones.

"I think you'll find I was the person who ordered the carriage," Gifford protested. "For a party of three." He stared meaningfully at the driver, avoiding the gaze of the fourth would be passenger, who began to look worried.

"That may be, sir," answered the driver, just as cheerfully. "But there's plenty of room and I'm not making a second trip all the way out to Ashvale and back. Not with evening coming on. So, everyone hop in, and we can get going."

Suppressing a smile at Gifford being put politely but firmly in his place, Jareth wasted no more time but climbed into the carriage. Fisher followed suit, then Gifford, looking tight lipped and lastly the small man, dragging the steamer trunk up behind him.

Everyone was silent while the carriage found its way through the outskirts of Blackworth to the road leading north. Once they were out of town and into the countryside, the small man became chatty.

"Let me introduce myself, Tom Pedlar, at your service." Here he chuckled. "Pedlar by name and pedlar by business." He tapped the trunk. "Only the finest goods for sale."

He looked inquisitively from Gifford to Fisher. His gaze faltered for a moment as he saw Jareth's face more clearly, and quickly dropped away.

He soon recovered his poise, however, and smiled at Gifford in a friendly fashion.

"What brings you fine folk to Ashvale, then?"

"Business," answered Gifford, shortly.

"Oh?" Pedlar raised a curious eyebrow. "Ashvale is only a small place, I wouldn't have thought there was much call for business there."

Gifford smiled thinly but didn't answer.

"We have business with Professor Maybury," offered Jareth, ignoring the angry glare from Gifford. He saw no point in being secretive about their destination. The news would be all over the hamlet from the moment they asked for directions.

"The Alchemist?" queried Pedlar, in an odd voice.

"Yes. Do you know him?"

"No. We've never met." He paused for a moment, as if wondering whether to continue. "When I first came to Ashvale, I took my wares up to the Hall, expecting a warm welcome like I usually get in these remote places, but they wouldn't let me in the gate. Locked up as tight as a clam shell, that place. I tried once more, the next time I was up here, but I got turned away again. Though I must have made an impression, because they sent a servant down to see me, in the village. Now, they send someone every time I'm here. They like their luxury."

"Very much so!" Pedlar lowered his voice. "He has a manservant, Sawyer, who handles all his affairs. Word in the village is, the Alchemist hasn't left the Hall in years!"

Gifford sniffed, unimpressed.