A black rabbit hopped into a jar lying on the rain-soaked grass. Lily picked the jar up and covered it, twisting its lid tight. She peered into the seemingly empty jar and slipped it into her satchel. “That should be all of them.”
Q sealed an identical jar and handed it to Lily. “Here.”
“Thank you for your help, Mr. Philips.” Lily stuffed the jar into her satchel. “The sanctuary’s thoughts owe you a great debt.” She pulled an unlit torch from her bag. “We need to decouple the train now.”
“What?” Q stiffened. “We haven’t found Raya.”
“We tried. None of the thoughts from the meadow have seen her.”
“You can’t destroy this car if there’s even the smallest chance that she’s still here.”
Lily tilted her head up, her neck rigid. “I will destroy whatever I need to, Mr. Philips.”
Q pulled his sketch out of his pocket and unfolded it. His scribble could barely be called a drawing, but he had learned that on the Elsewhere Express, what mattered were the thoughts he poured into what he created. The crack he had penciled was tiny, but it could destroy this train faster than any havoc the stowaway could wreak. He looked Lily in the eye. “So will I.”
“Good.” Lily nodded. “I was counting on that.” She tucked the torch back into her satchel. “I told you that there was a way for us to save Ms. Sia. I lied. We can’t save her. Only you can.”
“Me?”
“I’m guessing that Rasmus told you not to come here because he believed I was setting a trap. He was right. It is a trap. But not for you. It’s for the stowaway.” She took a gold key from her satchel, plunged it into the ground, and twisted it. “And I need your help to make it work.”
Whirs, clicks, and clanks echoed through the meadow. The horizon parted like stage curtains, revealing the paneled walls of a much smaller room. The night sky folded away, taking the storm with it.
A curved onyx ceiling took its place. Beneath it, the ground flipped over in square-shaped sections, giving way to polished parquet tiles adorned with the train’s eternal knot. The oak tree deflated and rolled itself into a prop box, leaving a swarm of moths fluttering in the shape of its trunk. The moths scattered, abandoning an unconscious figure on the parquet floor.
“Raya!” Q gasped.
The swarm took the shape of a faceless man and snatched Raya up. Raya stirred. Tendrils broke out from the stowaway’s body and crept across the car’s walls.
“It’s trapped,” Lily said. “For now. This train car is built from grief, one of the hardiest thoughts. But the car is still decaying behind its walls and floorboards. The rot will spread if we don’t stop it.”
Q grabbed a brush from the satchel. He did not want to risk painting a swarm while the stowaway had Raya. “I’ll make a door,” he said, painting swiftly over a wall.
“It will only come back.”
“Once we get Raya back, I’ll paint a swarm and—”
“You’ll need to throw yourself from the train, Mr. Philips.”
“What?”Q twisted around.
Rot seeped through the floorboards.
“If you want to save Raya, you have to jump off the train. You brought the stowaway on board with you. Wherever you go, it will go too.”
Q gnashed his teeth. “No. That’s not true. You’re confused, just like Rasmus was when he attacked me.”
Raya opened her eyes, moaning weakly.
The stowaway twisted its black vines into a whip and lashed at a wall. Splinters flew across the car. The stowaway drew its whip back, loosening its grip on Raya. She wrestled free and sprinted toward Q. Q dropped the brush and ran to her. The stowaway aimed the whip at Raya and caught her by the ankle. Q grabbed her hand. “Lily!” Q yelled. “Help!”
Lily pulled the painted door open. A cliff dropped off outside, the sun rising behind it.
The stowaway dragged Raya across the floor toward it.
“Q!” Raya screamed.
Q clung to her. “I’ve got you.”
