Delivery to the Lost City

by P. G. Bell

  “We’re not going to discuss it any further,” said Suzy’s mom. “Come on, Suzy.” She held out her hand. Suzy watched it dissolve through a sudden veil of tears. She tried to blink them away, but they welled up and spilled down her cheeks. Hot with anger and embarrassment, she swatted her mother’s hand aside and pushed past her parents.

  “Suzy, wait!” Wilmot called after her, but she didn’t stop. She threw open the door and fled through the sorting carriage into the cab, almost colliding with Ursel.

  “Rrrrownf?” the bear asked.

  Suzy couldn’t speak. She put her head in her hands and ran past Ursel to the stairs.

  “Suzy?” said Stonker. “What the devil’s wrong, my girl?”

  She didn’t look back, but pounded up the stairs two at a time.

  “Is she all right?” she heard Stonker say. “Should I go after her?”

  “No,” came her father’s voice. “Let her be. She just needs some time.”

  She almost turned and screamed down the stairs, I just need to be a postie! But she was already through the door into the navigation room, and slammed it shut behind her. She leaned against it and took a deep, shuddering breath. Then the dam inside her finally burst, and she let the tears come freely.

  Part of her felt ashamed to be crying, but she was too hurt and angry to care. After everything she had done, everything she had been through, it was all over.

  She had no idea how long she stayed like that, but by the time the tears slowed and she was able to breathe clearly again, the shadows in the room had lengthened as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

  Not knowing what else to do, she crossed to the windows and looked out. The huge bulk of the Belle de Loin’s boiler lay in front of her, juddering and steaming, and the twin curtains of spray rose up on either side of the wheels again as the locomotive charged across the waves. From this vantage point, Suzy could just see over them to the dazzling waters beyond. She felt a sudden need to remember as much about this place as possible while she still had the chance, and fixated on every little detail as it rushed past. The black tips on the wings of the seagulls coasting alongside the train. A chain of islands in the middle distance, each boasting a lone palm tree. The sweeping curve of the horizon.

  Suzy blinked the last of her tears away and looked again. Sweeping curve? That couldn’t be right. Horizons were supposed to be flat.

  But it wasn’t anymore. Instead of a straight line, the horizon had taken on a definite curve. She raced from one side of the navigation room to the other, and saw that the curve extended to both left and right, sweeping back out of sight behind the train. And it was getting closer.

  Because this world is round and flat like a dinner plate, she thought. And we’re almost at the edge already!

  The realization struck her like a blow, and she forgot her self-pity in an instant. In its place, she felt a cold, hard determination—she couldn’t let her time as a postie end like this. She wouldn’t leave her friends behind. She had to do something.

  But she was running out of time.

  Moving quickly, she unfastened one of the side windows and leaned her weight against it, forcing it open against the rush of the train’s slipstream. She stuck her head out and looked down. A narrow ledge ran along the base of the windows, all the way to the rear of the cab. It was glistening wet and warped with age, but looked just wide enough for her to get a toehold.

  With a last, regretful look back at the door to the stairs, Suzy climbed onto the windowsill and swung herself out.

  The wind struck her full in the side and would have hurled her straight into the sea if she hadn’t still had a tight grip on the window frame. She braced herself, straining every muscle until she was certain of her footing. Then, with painful care, she reached up with one hand and took hold of the wonky guttering that jutted out above her. The cab’s second story was slightly larger than the first, and it overhung the panoramic windows by almost two feet. By leaning backward, Suzy could keep a grip on it as she shimmied her feet along the slippery ledge toward the rear of the cab.

  Salt spray settled on her face and clothes, and her knuckles glowed white with strain. There was nothing she could do when the wind finally plucked her cap from her head and sent it whirling away out of sight. Against her better judgment, she glanced down and saw the Belle’s drive wheels whirring away in a noisy blur below her.

  What am I doing? she thought. This is crazy.

  But then she imagined climbing back into the safety of the navigation room and returning home with her parents. There would be school on Monday. Homework and dinner and television in the evenings. And long, empty weekends wondering where the Express was and what the crew might be doing … Would they ever find Hydroborea, or would they be doomed to search endlessly, never delivering another package as long as they lived? If she turned back now, she would never know.

  She tightened her grip on the guttering and, ignoring the stabbing pain in her hands and shoulders, inched her way to the rear of the cab. She swung herself around the corner of the building, where, finally sheltered from the battering winds, she lowered herself from the ledge onto a windowsill, being careful not to trample the begonias in their window box.

  She peered in through the glass and saw Ursel tossing bananas into the fire, while Stonker worked the controls. Her parents were deep in conversation—or possibly an argument, it was hard to tell—by the front door. And Frederick was standing in the middle of the room, looking straight at her.

  She froze for a moment, then raised a trembling finger to her lips.

  Frederick blinked and looked around to make sure none of the others had seen them. Then he smiled and gave her a conspiratorial wink.

  Suzy smiled back at him. “Thank you!” she mouthed. Frederick gave her a discreet thumbs-up and turned away.

  Suzy didn’t waste another second, but turned and leaped across the gap between the Belle and the tender, landing on the mound of fusion bananas piled inside it. She hurried across them toward the sorting car, stifling a yelp as they sparked with energy and spat tiny yellow lightning bolts to snap at her heels. The rim of the world was clearly visible on either side of her now, and she could hear the low roar of falling water beyond the hiss and rattle of the Express. At the far end of the tender she took a running jump and caught the edge of the sorting car’s roof before pulling herself up and over. The roof was wet with spray, and her sneakers slipped as she ran on, but then she saw the H.E.C. up ahead. She was almost there.

  Before she could reach it, the railway line curved sharply to hug the edge of the world. She looked down and almost screamed in shock. On one side of the train was the Topaz Narrows, with all its life and color and beauty. On the other was an endless curve of foaming white water, falling away into bottomless space below her. It was the end of the world and the start of the void, and the Express was hurtling along a gleaming thread of track between the two.

  Suzy’s stomach dropped through the floor and a feeling of vertigo threatened to overwhelm her. She pictured herself slipping off the roof and falling forever …

  The high-pitched whine of the H.E.C.’s rocket boosters powering up cut through her thoughts, and she suddenly remembered Stonker’s instruction to Wilmot in the navigation room. What had he called it? A “rolling launch.” The thought had barely formed in her mind before she realized that the H.E.C. was gradually falling behind the rest of the train. They were going to launch the H.E.C. at full speed and had uncoupled it already! The gap between the sorting car and the H.E.C. was barely more than three feet, but it was steadily widening. If she didn’t move now, it would be too late.

  She ran. The wind was at her back, and it felt like a great hand had scooped her up and hurled her forward. She made it to the end of the sorting carriage in a few seconds and jumped, flailing her arms and legs, and letting the wind fill the folds of her coat like a sail. For an instant, she felt weightless. Then she crashed down hard on the sloping roof of the H.E.C., a second before it
s rocket boosters flared into life and it blasted upward into the sky.

  Suzy held her breath. The invisible hand wasn’t at her back now; it was pressing down on her like a rock, pinning her to the roof. She looked over her shoulder and saw the Express, already small and toylike with distance, racing away along the shining lines of silver that hugged the lip of the Topaz Narrows. The H.E.C. was rising on a pillar of fire into the strange twilight zone between tropical sky and profound darkness. It was breathtaking, and Suzy might even have taken a few seconds to appreciate it if the H.E.C. hadn’t then begun to tilt underneath her as it banked toward the void.

  She slid toward the edge of the roof but caught the raised edge of the sunroof just in time to save herself. She hammered on it with her free hand.

  “Help!” she shouted. “Wilmot! Let me in!”

  To her surprise, the translucent head of the Chief rose through the roof. He saw her, and started.

  “Oh my!” he said. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Trying to get in!” she yelled back. “Hurry!”

  He dropped back inside, and there were an agonizing few seconds in which nothing happened. Suzy’s hands cramped with the effort of holding on. The H.E.C. continued toward the void, leaving the mighty disk of the Topaz Narrows behind it. They were out beyond the edge of the world now, with nothing but blankness all around them. The air began to cool.

  Then, without warning, the sunroof popped open. Unfortunately for Suzy, it opened away from her, wresting her fingers loose.

  “Heeeeelp!” she cried as she slid helplessly down the slope of the roof toward oblivion.

  The loop of a satchel strap landed in front of her, and she grabbed it, stopping her slide just as her legs shot out over the edge of the roof. Wilmot’s head popped out of the sunroof. He was gripping the satchel with both hands.

  “Hold on!” he shouted.

  “I am!” she cried.

  He pulled back with all his might on the satchel, and the strap creaked with the strain. Suzy stopped kicking wildly against empty space and braced her feet against the side of the H.E.C. Then, one painful step at a time, she walked her way up onto the roof, at which point Wilmot’s weight yanked her in through the sunroof. They landed together in a bruised and gasping heap on the floor.

  “You did it!” she cried. “Thank you.”

  “That’s all right,” Wilmot groaned. “Would you mind shutting the sunroof?”

  She climbed onto a fold-down table attached to the wall, reached up, and pulled the sunroof closed. “I can’t believe I made it,” she said.

  “I was offering moral support,” said the Chief, hovering beside her. “I’m afraid it’s the best I can do these days.”

  “You’re doing plenty,” said Suzy. “Thank you.”

  Wilmot was visibly less relaxed. He was trying to pace, but the H.E.C. was so small that he had little choice but to turn in a circle on the spot. “I don’t know, Suzy,” he said, worrying at his fingernails. “It’s not that I don’t want you on this delivery, I really do, but what about your parents? They must be frantic.”

  “Let me worry about my parents,” said Suzy. “They can be as angry as they like once I get home, but I’m going to prove them wrong. This plan was my idea, remember. I want to be part of it.”

  “Perhaps we should turn back,” he said. “As your Postmaster, I’m responsible for your safety.”

  “And as posties, we’re both responsible for delivering this book,” said Suzy.

  “The girl is right,” said the book from inside Wilmot’s satchel. “Return me to my rightful place in Hydroborea.”

  “We’ve got less than a day left if we want it to give back all the words it ate at the Ivory Tower,” said Suzy. “This delivery is more important than anything else right now, including my parents. Besides, if you take me back, they’ll never let me be a postie again. They think I can’t look after myself.”

  “I just found you clinging to the roof,” said the Chief.

  “And I’m fine,” she said, trying to look nonchalant. “You took off a little earlier than I expected, that’s all. We have to carry on.”

  Wilmot shuffled from foot to foot, trying to make his mind up. “I suppose so,” he said, although he didn’t sound happy about it. “But assuming we make it back from this, I insist on taking you straight home and offering your parents a full apology.”

  Suzy folded her arms. “Fine,” she said. “Not that they deserve one. And who knows? If we pull this off, maybe they’ll change their minds.”

  Even as she said it, she knew it wasn’t true—if she made it home, her parents were going to be anything but proud of her. She’d just run away! The enormity of it hit her as the darkness of the void pressed against the windows. Being grounded for a few weeks was going to feel like a piece of cake compared to whatever punishment she’d have to face when she got back. They were going to ground her for life.

  What if this really is my last delivery? she thought as the H.E.C. roared into the void.

  9

  ONE OF OUR POSTIES IS MISSING

  Everyone in the Belle’s cab felt the slight jolt of the H.E.C. uncoupling from the sorting car, and heard the distant roar of its rockets fading into the distance. Frederick, who had made his way outside onto the locomotive’s gangway, watched the column of fire rising into the sky far behind them.

  “Good luck, you three,” he said to himself. Then, doing his best to look composed, he stepped back inside. “That’s it,” he said. “Liftoff.”

  Stonker gave a satisfied nod, although his expression was stern. “A perfect rolling launch. Let’s hope everything else goes as smoothly. The Postmaster’s taking a big risk stepping into the unknown like this.”

  “I know,” said Frederick. “But he wanted to go. And he’s in good company.”

  “Grrrrolf,” said Ursel as she tossed another bunch of bananas into the fireplace.

  “Quite,” said Stonker. “The Chief’s a nice chap, but he managed to sink his ship, himself, and his whole crew.”

  Frederick felt a prickle of anxiety. “I’m sure he’ll be fine in the void, though,” he said. “There’s much less to bump into.” He picked a book off a nearby shelf, but of course, it was blank. He closed it with a snap and put it down. “So what do we do now? Just sit around and wait to hear from them?”

  “More or less,” said Stonker. “If they make it through the storm and back, the Postmaster can call us on his phone and we’ll come out and collect them. There’s no telling how long they might be, of course, so in the meantime, we’ll take Suzy and Mr. and Mrs. Smith home, and collect Fletch.”

  “Thank you,” said Suzy’s mom tersely. “That’s very kind of you.”

  Frederick noticed that she and Suzy’s dad had retreated to opposite corners of the cab, where they were taking turns leveling accusing glares at each other.

  “Yes, we really appreciate it,” said Suzy’s dad, still scowling at his wife. “I’m just sorry we’re leaving you so abruptly. It wasn’t exactly what we planned.”

  “We didn’t plan any of this,” said Suzy’s mom. “But one of us doesn’t know when to say no.”

  “We both agreed to come.”

  “Only because I knew you were bound to give Suzy whatever she wanted,” Suzy’s mom snapped back. “You always do.”

  Suzy’s dad looked hurt. “That’s not true. I agreed we should take her home, but you never said it would be permanent.”

  “Do you want her coming back to do this all again next week?” Suzy’s mom replied. “It’s not safe, Calum. It’ll never be safe. This is our chance to put a stop to it before something dreadful happens.”

  Frederick watched their argument with growing satisfaction. He was quite looking forward to seeing their reaction when they discovered that Suzy had got the better of them.

  “At least we can earn it in the safety of our own home, without having to worry about where she is or whether she’s in danger,” Suzy’s mom went on. “Or w
ould you rather watch her blast off in an old caravan, never knowing if she’ll ever come back?”

  “Such is the life of a postal troll, madam,” said Stonker. “Bravery, duty, and the occasional jam sandwich. It’s what the Postmaster lives for.”

  “Yes, well,” said Suzy’s mom. “That’s not the life we want for Suzy. I’m sorry.”

  “If it’s Suzy’s life, maybe you should let her decide what to do with it,” said Frederick. He fought back a knowing little smile as Suzy’s parents glowered at him and didn’t even flinch when Ursel growled in frustration.

  “Grunf!” she barked.

  “Ursel has a point,” said Stonker. “Perhaps it would be wise to go upstairs and check on Suzy. I’m sure she’d appreciate some parental reassurance.”

  Suzy’s mom sighed so deeply she seemed to deflate. “You’re right, of course,” she said. “Calum?”

  “Yes, let’s,” Suzy’s dad said. “Maybe talking it through will help.”

  They crossed the cab and made their way upstairs together. Frederick chuckled as he watched them go.

  The shafts of sunlight angling in through the windows of the cab’s seaward side began to shift as the track curved more sharply, heading away from the rim and back toward the center of the Topaz Narrows.

  “We’ll be at the tunnel mouth in a little while,” said Stonker. “If you want to make yourself useful, you can put the kettle on. And please stop antagonizing Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”

  With a single claw, Ursel lifted a large brass kettle down from a hook on the wall and handed it to Frederick. It was so heavy that it almost pulled him over.

  “Fine, but I don’t see why they should stop Suzy from doing what she’s good at,” he muttered as he lugged it to the sink.

  “We don’t have to like their decision, but we do have to abide by it,” said Stonker. “They’re her parents, after all.”

  “And what did parents ever know about anything?” Frederick asked.

  “I wouldn’t know,” said Stonker flatly. “But you’ve not got long before you have to say good-bye to Suzy permanently, so spend the time wisely.”