“Your old life?” Raya asked.
Lily shook her head. “An incident that happened on the train a long time ago.”
Rasmus stared at the tiny vial in his large hand. “Remembering the events of that evening posed a threat to this train. We decided that it was best to erase them.”
“How can a memory be a threat?” Q said.
“Thoughts are fragile things.” The fireplace’s glow softened Lily’s face. “Great ideas are born every day and killed by a whisper or a shred of doubt. People talk themselves out of thoughts as fast as they create them. The thoughts that make this train as limitless as our imagination also make it vulnerable to our insecurities and fears. Rasmus and I could not keep a memory that terrified us. It was too dangerous.”
“Fear spreads.” Rasmus rolled the serum between his fingers, making the liquid crash against the vial’s glass walls like dark waves. “The Elsewhere Express has very little room on board for our past and even less for doubt. If passengers questioned this train’s ability to keep them safe then—” He squeezed the vial.
“Then what?” Raya’s eyes darted between Rasmus and Lily. “What would happen?”
“The train would shatter.” Lily’s face lost the illusion of softness. “And all its passengers would cease to exist.”
“Hold on.” Q waved his hand as though erasing all that Lily and Rasmus had laid before them. “Hold on. That sounds terrifying, but aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves? You don’t even remember what the incident is. How do you know that we’re in danger?”
“We know because we kept one part of the memory as a message to ourselves,” Lily said. “Rain.”
“It never rains on the Elsewhere Express.” Rasmus clenched his jaw, pulling his thick neck muscles taut. “Except when there’s something on board that the train desperately needs to wash away. We retained enough of the incident to warn us that if it ever rained here again, the danger was back.”
“And that we would need help saving the train from it.” Lily uncorked her vial.
Rasmus flicked his vial’s stopper with his thumb and sent the tiny piece of cork into the fire. “Ready?”
Lily tossed her head back, swallowing the serum in a single gulp.
“Why are all the curtains on the Elsewhere Express shut?”
Frequently Asked Questions
The Elsewhere Express
Passenger Handbook
Lily (who was not yet named Lily)
A Memory
Rapid knocking rattled her compartment’s door. Lily rolled to her side, groaning into her pillow. Though she had nothing to keep track of time, she still had enough sense of her body clock to know that it was too early to start her day on the train. She had just boarded and had not yet settled on which department to join. She helped whichever department needed an extra hand that day, choosing to hold off on making a decision until she had tried all of them. So far, she enjoyed working at the Lotus the most, learning cocktail recipes and serving welcome drinks to new passengers. She had, however, crossed out the painting department. She had no talent for painting. Today, she was scheduled to assist the train’s conductor.
The knocking grew louder.
“Who is it?” Lily’s voice scraped the sides of her dry throat. A dream nuzzled her ear, calling her back. Her eyelids grew heavy. Her compartment made it easy to fall back to sleep. The room was large enough to be comfortable, but small enough to make her feel safe. On days that she felt lonely, it gave her a hug by shrinking ever so slightly and adding extra pillows on her bed.
“It’s me, Rasmus.”
“Which one?” Lily mumbled into her blanket. Getting out of bed was the hardest part about her life on the train. Her compartment cocooned her in every comfort, from the softest of bamboo silk sheets to a lush carpet of fresh grass. Its temperature was always set just right, anticipating her needs before she could shiver or sweat. In the evenings, a night sky stretched across her ceiling, complete with a dimmable moon. Lily usually set it on a waxing crescent. Some nights, she hid it behind clouds. The compartment had originally come with birds to sing her to sleep, but Lily requested housekeeping to remove them, finding their song too loud. But as soon as the birds were gone, she realized what they were for. Without their chirping, there was nothing to mask the sound of the Echoes wailing and scratching at her window. She called housekeeping and asked them to return the birds and sew her curtains shut.
“Other Rasmus,” the voice behind the door said.
Lily bolted up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She had not expected the conductor to start his shift so early. She jumped out of bed and slipped her robe on. “Come in. The door’s unlocked.”
Rasmus strode into the room and bent down, his head grazing the top of the doorway. His pale-blond hair, dented by the mark of a cap, fell over his ice-blue eyes. “I’m sorry for disturbing you. I know that we’re supposed to meet after breakfast, but there’s been an incident that I need your assistance with.”
Lily shut the door behind him. “Of course. What happened?”
“We have a stowaway. Someone left the back door unlocked.”
