The Demon Wagon

Levanas Haan encouraged the horses to a walk. They were nervous. The gray expanse, illuminated by the Pale Stars to an almost imperceptible blue. Fine dust coated the land wherever elven hands had not scoured it from the earth. The horses were gateside creatures, not accustomed to this hard land. And no matter how many times Levanas brought them here, they were never as comfortable as in their home fields. He felt sorry for them, but they were far too good at pulling carts.
The pickup would be close, his cargo difficult to miss. His minister swore him to secrecy every time he was tasked with this job, and every time the pickup was in some corner of Exodus where not a living soul resided. Places where the Pale Stars had almost faded. He never asked why, but he wondered. The horses had become even more reticent, and he tugged on the reins to spur them forward. The hill crested, and he saw them. Three of them this time, figures half again as tall as him, but slimmer, every part of their bodies wrapped with a tarnished black metal. Like a cocoon almost, or a mummy's wrappings. In unison, the three turned towards him. Between them, boxes stacked atop one another, all the same tarnished black. He had never seen anything from these creatures that was not covered in this strange material.
He turned the wagon in front of them, and bade the horses the stop. They would much rather have run, but obeyed their master. One of the spindly creatures reached out with a metal claw, pushing away the curtains that covered the back of the wagon. Levanas stood up, climbing down the coach.
"Touch nothing," one of the creatures spoke. The sound was hissing and booming at the same time, echoing through the metal cocoon. It turned its head straight towards him, but Levanas could see no eyes to look into. "It will poison you," the creature continued. Levanas nodded. The other two began lifting their boxes into the cart, and then one by one climbed into the back of the wagon. A single claw reached out from the inside, and pulled the curtains closed.
The cart stopped, and an elf with a piece of paper and an inkpen walked up to him. "Mr?" the officer started. "Levanas Haan, under orders of minister Ava Kerineis," he rattled out, and started digging through his papers. The officer jotted down notes "If you will hold for a moment while we inspect your cargo," he said. Levanas produced a stamped letter. "That will not be necessary, inspector." The officer leaned forward inspecting the seal. He frowned. "On your way then, Levanas Haan." A seal from the director of the Order of the Starseers certainly sped things up. He directed the horses to a trot, looking back at the wagons behind him still being inspected. A ring of stones rose from the ground, the blue sky of Exodus-in-Prime shining on the other side. He always wondered where that image came from. The other side was on the courtyard of the gatehouse of Fin-Allan, and most of what you saw coming out was elven stonework. He turned around, and peeked inside the curtain. His three passengers were still inside, their metal boxes laid on the floor, curled up around themselves on the benches sitting. Their knees looked to almost reach the roof. One turned its head towards him.
Levanas closed the curtain and prompted his horses through the gate.
Security was more lax on the Prime side. The gatehouse overseer simply opened the gate for him, and nobody bothered him as he guided the wagon through the streets of Fin-Allan. The wheels rattled over the cobbles of the market street, and Levanas had to slow the horses to a walk to avoid running over the myriad pedestrians in the streets. Some of the elves waved. He didn't remember where he knew them from. The humans, some seemed to be trying to sell him something. He ignored them. The others, the ones clad in white wool, took one look at him and turned away. He liked that group better. His cargo sat in silence in the covered wagon.
The gates of Fin-Allan were open, and he guided the wagon through the thinning crowd around the gates. It was noon, and Fin-Allan was busy even during the quiet hours of the day. Now, the road to the city was filled with people going back and forth. Some were on foot, some on horseback, others driving wagons like he was. He guided the horses with the crowd for a few kilometers, before turning to a narrow path northwards. He glanced back at his cargo. In all this time, they had not so much as looked out the wagon. The curtains had stayed put. If the creatures had died in there, would he know?
The now lonely road snaked across the hills. There was forest here, and few could interrupt them except perhaps a hunter who happened at the wrong place at the wrong time. He wonder what the creatures would do then. He guided the horses offroad into the shade of the trees and turned around, opening the curtains to let the sun in. "This is as far as we go friends," he said. The three spindly creatures turned the metal cocoons they had for heads toward him. Or at least, he figured it was toward him. They said nothing, but one black metal reached out to the back and gently pulled the curtain open. The first one climbed out, and it looked like it was stretching. The wagon had been cramped for its long legs and arms. The other two grabbed the boxes as Levanas watched through the curtain. One peeked its head back in, inspecting the carriage. Then, it went back out again. Wordlessly, the creatures picked up their boxes and started walking into the forest.
Levanas climbed into the back of the wagon. He could see the yellow-brown discoloration of wood on the benches where the creatures had sat, and on the floor where they had piled their boxes. He shuddered, not daring to touch the spots. At least, he would have to wash them first. He climbed back to the coachbox, and started turning the horses around. At least they seemed happier now.
Levanas Haan started the journey back to Fin-Allan.