It was Rasmus who had taught her that a conductor had many duties that could only be done in the shadows—and crushing the spider under her shoe was a duty Lily wished she could have done in complete darkness. That way, she would not have had to see its eyes before she brought her heel down on its head. She had no choice. The train’s passengers always came first. Luckily, the guilt of crushing the spider wasn’t anything Mr. Goh’s excess baggage serum couldn’t fix. But relief would have to wait. She was the train’s conductor and had secrets to keep, a job to do, and an entire train to keep running and safe.
“Do I get my own compartment?”
Frequently Asked Questions
The Elsewhere Express
Passenger Handbook
Raya
The song was rough around the edges and slightly out of key. It was not a song that Raya would ever choose to listen to, but its faults made it stand out from the river of songs flowing through her. Though she did not know which of the train’s doors sang it, Raya could not let go when it took her by the hand and led her to one of the Archive’s dust-filled back rooms. Raya followed it blindly, caring only that it took her as far away from Abbie’s broken body as it could. She had no choice but to trust Lily’s promise that Abbie could be fixed.
Raya made her way through a maze of shelves groaning with yellowing books, scrolls, and an array of artifacts. Rasmus’s forgotten teacups, abandoned on shelves, stools, and stepladders, provided the only evidence that someone other than her had visited this secluded part of the Archive before. Raya sneezed, knocking the handset off a French-style brass rotary phone wedged between a hand-crank eggbeater and a tin of flashcubes. The song grew louder. Raya lifted the handset and held it to her ear. The song skipped, startled it had been found.
“Good evening, Ms. Sia.” A voice, as warm as fleece and just as soft, poured out of the receiver.
“Oh…uh…hello. May I know who I’m speaking with?”
“This is the shortcut to the lobby. How may I help you?”
Contradiction. It was the secret behind the best hotels. Exclusive, yet inviting. Elegant, yet comfortable. Private, yet not lonely. The Elsewhere Express had curated people’s most interesting and conflicting thoughts to build a hotel lobby—one unlike anything Raya had ever seen but that she somehow remembered fondly.
She stood in the shadows of the giant fire trees that held up a glass ceiling, their flame-red flowers in full bloom. Her eyes followed a winding stream that took the place of a floor. Velvet couches meandered along the stream like boats, circling the fire trees and drifting past water lily–shaped crystal chandeliers. Soft piano music blended with the stream’s burbling. The lobby’s grand double doors swung open, interrupting the duet. Raya jumped, nearly slipping off one of the stepping stones dotting the stream.
Q froze at the doorway, water flowing by his toes.“Raya?”
Raya’s eyes darted from Q’s face to the satchel slung across his chest. It belonged to Rasmus. Her heart thundered. She could not let either of them get to Jace first. “Where’s Rasmus?”
“He’s not here.” Q closed a fist around the satchel’s strap. “He’s hurt.”
Raya choked on a breath she had meant to exhale. “Is he okay?”
“I don’t know. Rasmus could barely breathe when I left him in the supply closet. He…he was being crushed.”
“What?”
“He shared the Archive’s weight with Abbie, but their tether broke. Did something happen to her?”
Raya’s heart clenched.
Q winced, pressing his hand over his chest. “What happened to Abbie?” he said, his voice wound as tightly as their tether.
“She’ll—” Raya’s lips quivered. “She’ll be okay.”
“What do you mean she’ll be okay? What happened?”
“Lily—” Raya drew a breath deep enough to push the truth out. “She found me trapped in Abbie’s web. She—” The chill running from Q’s end of the tether into her heart told her that no other words were wanted or required.
Raya made her way across the path of stepping stones to the hotel’s reception area, grateful that the stones were too small for more than one person. It was easier to avoid looking at Q if she walked behind him, keeping their unspoken truce. A woman with eyes a shade lighter than the emerald silk scarf she wore around her neck smiled at them from behind the marble-topped front desk. The gold knot twisting over the receptionist’s scarf glinted in the light of a chandelier floating across the lobby’s stream. “Good evening. I’m Isla. How may I help you?”
“Hi.” Q rested his palms on the marble. “I know this will sound strange, but I was wondering if you have smelled anything like rain recently?”
“Rain? I’m afraid not. It never rains on the Elsewhere Express. But we can arrange for housekeeping to add a rain-scented diffuser to your compartment if you’d like.”
Q jerked his head. “My compartment?”
Raya gasped. “You did it, Q.”
