“Why do we need to wear life vests?” Q shrugged the vest on. A black moth, its wings half burned away, peeked out from his left collarbone. He had planned to get the tattoo on his nape, but when he learned that inking it over his clavicle would hurt more, he changed his mind. The scorched moth was a message that he couldn’t allow himself to forget. “How do you drown on a train?”
“Quite easily. People drown all the time. In their beds, in their heads, in other people. Why not on a train?” Lily set the kettle on the table and lifted its lid. “The venue’s right through here. Watch your step. It can be slippery on the other side.”
“Does the train have a set route?”
Frequently Asked Questions
The Elsewhere Express
Passenger Handbook
Raya
The inside of a rice wine kettle and grief had one thing in common: They were both pitch-black.
Lily had called the kettle a doorway, but the inky darkness that filled it hid any promise of an exit. Raya floated around, certain that she had wandered back to the winding tunnel of days she was lost in after Jace’s death. A chill snaked up her spine and spread through her limbs. “Lily?” The tremble in her voice echoed around her. “Q?”
A hand closed around Raya’s wrist, the golden knot on its palm shining in the darkness. “I’m here.”
Raya’s breath hitched. Q’s voice sounded different in the dark. In a place without gravity, she could hear and feel its weight. It felt strong enough to stand on and was the closest thing around her to solid ground.
“I think we’re almost out,” Q said.
“How do you know?” Raya strained to see him, but the darkness concealed everything but his warmth. It spread up her arm, thawing it. “I can’t see a thing.”
“I can feel it.”
“You can? How?”
“I—” He weaved his long fingers through hers, holding her more securely. “I’ve had some practice.” Light poured over Q’s face. He shielded his eyes with his arm. A thick rope dangled inches from Q’s shoulder.
“Mr. Philips? Ms. Sia?” Lily’s voice called down from the window of light. “Climb up.”
“Go.” Q released Raya’s hand. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Her palms burned. Raya grunted and pulled herself higher, her tote hanging from her side. Dropping the bag would have been the practical thing to do, but Raya refused to entertain the thought. The recycled bag helped her believe that no matter how many dark and strange doorways she crossed, fell through, or climbed up, she was going to find her way back home. She put one hand over the other and pulled herself into the light. She drew a breath and tasted salt. She squinted, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the light. Swaths of red rippled above her. She forced her eyes open.
Five crimson battened sails caught the wind from massive bamboo masts. The train’s gold knot twisted over each sail, coiling like a serpent without a head or a tail. Raya might have been mesmerized by their scale if they had not been overshadowed by a sky that was split in two. A clear, blue morning stretched over one half, a cloudless, starry night over the other. Raya jerked her head, knocking the base of her skull against the rim of a large clay pot. She bit down the pain. Lily hooked her arm around her and helped her climb out. She glanced around, ignoring the lump swelling on the back of her head. Either she was standing on the deck of the largest Chinese junk she had ever seen or she had hit her head harder than she thought.
“Be careful, Ms. Sia.” Lily steered her from a puddle of seawater. “The deck’s wet.”
Q emerged from the pot, his eyes on the halved sky. “What happened to the sky? Why does it look like that?”
“It’s the border between waking and dreaming,” Lily said. “The train follows it.”
“For the love of god.” Raya threw up her hands. “Can we please stop calling whatever this is a train? It’s pretty obvious that it’s not.”
“Is it?” Lily said. “Tell me, Ms. Sia, does wearing a coat when it’s cold or a summer dress when it gets hot change who you are? We adapt to the seasons; the train adapts to its route. Would you like to see the tracks? We can view them from the bow.”
A silver railway shimmered just beneath the waves and disappeared into the horizon. It dawned on Raya just how long this ride might last if she didn’t find a way to escape. She wobbled from the ship’s bow, pressure building behind her eyes. She slipped on a puddle and fell backward.
Q caught her by the elbow. “Watch your step.”
“Sorry.” She pulled away from him. “I think I’m a bit seasick.”
“I can give you something to help with that.” Lily lifted the flap of her satchel.
Raya waved Lily’s offer away. “I don’t want anything from you.”
