by Nova Nelson
The assumption that Fritz was the only one who could have had that letter was flawed, though. After all, if Landon and I were able to find it in under a half hour of searching her unoccupied home, who’s to say someone else hadn’t done the same?
No, I was losing sight of my central point: What if Grace wasn’t dead? The idea that she was still alive needed to remain the foundation of my theory, at least until I could prove it one way or another.
If she was alive, that would mean there was no body. Or if there was a body, it wasn’t hers. Could Fritz have murdered someone else while he had the letter in his pocket? Sure, why not? But again, that didn’t affect Grace.
If she wasn’t dead, where was she?
Well, where would I go if I were in her shoes? Presumably, she was pregnant with a werewolf’s baby, and her circle wouldn’t like it. So, she wouldn’t go to her circle. And Landon described her as having enough sense not to move to a werewolf compound. Not that Fritz would allow it. He seemed set on maintaining appearances with his wife. Having a pregnant lover around would blow their cover to the rest of the pack.
Could she still be in Eastwind? Maybe there was a friend of hers who was hiding her. Did Landon know any of her friends outside of himself?
I remembered his description of her office. Meticulous, organized, prepared for anything. She wouldn’t disappear on her own accord without a firm and detailed plan in place. After all, she planned everything about her days on that giant calendar. Everything until 6:47am, that is.
As soon as I remembered the date, my Insight did a little flip in my chest. It was important. There was something there. It felt like a flag stuck in the ground with an arrow pointing downward and the words, “treasure this way!” written across it.
Where would someone go at 6:47? What would someone do? No one made plans for that time.
I went to take another sip of tea to realize my cup was already empty. I refilled it then looked at the clock on the wall. Just past four forty-five in the morning. I still had a bit of time before I needed to leave for work.
I’d gotten used to walking to work each day—and walking everywhere in general. I quite enjoyed it now. But this morning, my bones ached and my body felt like it’d doubled in weight. Even sitting up straight when I was this exhausted felt like a herculean task. What I wouldn’t do for Eastwind to magic up some cars. Nah, that would ruin the feel of the place, and I knew firsthand how deadly those could be. Eastwind definitely didn’t need to add yet another death risk. Maybe just a bus system. Or a tram. Maybe build it on some tracks to keep it safe for pedestrians. There were ways it could work.
Mental tangent anyone? I could expect this level of distraction all day at work. One messed up order after another. Great.
Maybe if they build a fence around the train …
Oh come on, mind. Focus!
Only, a moment later, I realized that my lack of focus was exactly what I’d needed to click the last missing piece into place. Lack of focus, it seemed, had moved me out of the way of my Insight.
A train.
Ted had said that the only way to avoid the Winds of Change was to catch the first train out of Eastwind.
And when exactly did the first train out of Eastwind run each day?
Instantly, I felt sure I knew the answer.
It left the station at 6:47am.
Chapter Nineteen
It would be a close call getting into work on time now that I had a side trip to make.
I’d never been to the InterRealm train station before. Never had occasion to. But now I did.
The walk was longer than I’d expected, and before I even left Eastwind proper, I passed beyond the point where I could turn around, hurry to Medium Rare, and make it there on time.
For someone who prides herself on being where she needs to be when she needs to be there, I sure had been unreliable lately.
But what was Tanner going to do, fire me? First of all, he couldn’t. More importantly, that would leave no one in charge of the diner once he bailed to go play deputy.
This was more important anyway. If my suspicion was correct …
I wish I could say it would be case closed, but I knew better than to hope that. More likely, if I was right, it would raise more questions than it answered.
The cobblestone street extended beyond the circular boundary of the city, leading out toward the station, and I followed wooden signs that assured me I was on the right track.
I was on the complete opposite side of town from Medium Rare, and the foothills of a larger mountain range stretched out on my left with rolling pastureland to my right. I wondered how much further I had to go. I also wondered what a ticket to Avalon cost. Could I take a holiday there sometime? If everything fell apart in Eastwind, could I afford to take the first train out as Ted had suggested and Grace might have done?
No, I couldn’t do that. And not because of the price, but because I couldn’t run away from my problems. It was hard to ignore the sensation that I was exactly where I needed to be, that some fated path had been triggered the moment I entered Eastwind and found Grim and stumbled into Medium Rare where I met Tanner.
And in that same thought, I knew at once that this break-up was not supposed to happen. The understanding was a sword through my sternum. A single misstep from me had caused everything to go off the rails. What would happen if I didn’t get myself back on track?
The train station appeared around a bend, nestled against the edge of the forest that cascaded down the foothills. I’d expected the train to look like something from an old film, a steam engine or something of the sort. That makes no sense, I know, but so much of Eastwind looked like something out of the past that it had become my default.
Instead, the train looked like something from the future. Each car, if you could call them that, was a long, egg-like shape connected at the narrow ends to the cars ahead and behind. It looked like someone had taken their mother’s pearls and managed to stretch them out. The exterior gleamed a bit like a pearl, too.
This had Avalon, or what I knew of it, written all over it. From what I’d gleaned in conversations, Avalon had been the first to make contact with Eastwind, back before this realm had a single witch in it, and the flow of progress had been fairly one-sided since.
It was a small train, only a half dozen cars, and as passengers loaded up, I made my way to the ticket booth and greeted the man behind it with a smile, which he returned.
“How can I help you, miss?” he asked. His plum-colored eyes and tall, lithe body indicated that I was speaking to an elf. Not all of them had eyes like his, but whenever I’d seen that particular shade, it had always been on an elf.
“Not sure. Need to look over the departure times.”
He nodded and stepped to the side showing a dark oak board behind him on which times shimmered in a glowing script.
I spotted it right away: 6:47am.
But just because Grace had planned to take the 6:47 train out of town didn’t mean she necessarily boarded it, though. I needed to be thorough. I couldn’t afford to give Landon false hope again. “Which train is that?” I asked, gesturing behind me.
“First train out of town, headed straight to Avalon Central.”
“Is it the 6:47?”
He nodded.
“Any chance the conductor keeps a regular schedule?”
“Yes, ma’am. The conductor is nothing if not a woman of routine. She works ten hour shifts seven days a week.”
Did Eastwind and Avalon not have a union anywhere? Sheesh, my workaholism often paled in comparison to some of the expectations around here. “Is it alright if I go and speak to her? I don’t want to ride. I just want to ask her a question.”
He frowned apologetically. “Sorry, afraid I can’t let you without a ticket.”
“What if I … pinkie promise?” I wiggled a pinkie in the air by the booth’s window, and he stared at it like it was a fresh donut I was offering him before shaking his head and saying,
“No, ma’am. I wish I could. I believe you, you know, but the InterRealm Travel Bureau is extremely strict about enforcing rules.”
“Shoot. Okay,” I reached in my pocket, going for my coins. “How much for a ticket?”
“Forty-two silvers.”
“Forty-two—! Who has that kind of money on them?”
He shrugged. “People who want to take a train to Avalon, from what I’ve seen.”
“Oh, for fang’s sake.” I put my back to the booth, staring longingly at the train that would be leaving any minute now. I didn’t have the money on me. I had the money, sure, but it was back at Ruby’s house. If I went back for it, I would have to wait until the next day to speak with the conductor, and I didn’t want to wait that long. I needed to close up this lead as soon as possible so I could deliver the news to Landon and ease his suffering a little. That is, assuming everything went as I hoped.
I turned back to the man in the booth. “Thank you.” I forced a smile, then I stepped to the side, allowing the few people who had lined up behind me, anxious to get their ticket and board the train before it pulled away, obscure me from the elf’s view.
I stuffed my hands into my coat pockets and power walked over to the engine.
Or at least, it was something like an engine. I didn’t pretend to know how trains like this worked. But it was the car that looked slightly different from all the rest, so I made an assumption and it turned out to be correct.
Once I was close, I knocked on the hatch at the side of the oblong car. I had to stand on my tiptoes to see through the small round window and catch sight of the conductor.
When she looked my way, her forehead creased as she narrowed her eyes at me. She probably thought I was someone she should know. I would have assumed that if our places were swapped and someone started knocking and waving at me through a window at my place of work.
Slowly she stood from her seat and came over to open the door. “You have a ticket?” she said in lieu of a proper greeting.
“Yes,” I lied. “I also have a question.”
She nodded for me to go ahead and hurry with it.
“Any chance you’ve seen this young lady board the train recently?” I slipped from my pocket the photograph High Priestess Springsong had given me and held it out. She took it, bringing it close to her face to examine it. Then, after a silent moment, she handed it back to me.
“Yeah,” she said. “Dropped her off at Avalon Central a week or so back. A real questioner, that one. She requested to come up here and ask me about the procedures in place to ensure each train ran on time. She was very interested in the schedule management.”
“Yep,” I said. “That’s her.” I tucked the picture back into my pocket, letting the first hints of relief seep in, then I thanked the conductor and hurried away from the station before she had a chance to holler after me for not actually having a ticket.
Grace was alive. I almost couldn’t believe it. She’d made it out, though where she was now, I had no idea. Sure, she went to Avalon Central, but that didn’t mean it was her last stop. Avalon was a central realm, or a “pivot world,” meaning it had countless other realms branching off from it, including Eastwind. Not all realms worked that way. Eastwind, for example, only had thirteen catalogued realms connected to it, something I’d memorized in my lessons with Oliver. Not all of them were named, including the one I’d stumbled in from. Many were simply numbered, since no one had come through from them to give them a name. Or in the case of my world, those who’d stumbled through had no idea what name to give it, since we’d always assumed we were the only realm.
The point was that Grace could be long gone by now, and who knew what would happen to an innocent, likely pregnant young woman like her in a strange new environment?
Although, as it is with most unknowable situations, my assumptions wouldn’t impact the reality, so I chose to assume the best. Why not? It made me slightly more positive about the possibility of my own life turning out for the best. Essentially, if hers could have a happy ending, why couldn’t mine?
I would already be late to work, so I decided, hey, why not be a lot later? Tanner hadn’t been mad at me yesterday, and I needed to stop by the Parchment Catacombs and deliver the good news to Landon in person. An owl wouldn’t do for this.
But hopefully an owl would do for letting Tanner know I’d be in around lunchtime.
Man, it was nice knowing I couldn’t be fired. I should have taken advantage of this ages ago.
The gnome at the underground reception desk of the Catacombs was finishing the last of a sandwich—roast beef by the smell—when I arrived. “I need to speak with Landon Hawker,” I said.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No.”
He crinkled his nose and the consternation in his eyes was quite obviously faked. He’d probably waited all week to exercise authority over someone. “I’m sorry. I can’t allow you to visit without an appointment. We adhere to strict record-keeping policies that don’t permit impromptu—”
“I understand completely,” I said, cutting him off a moment before I walked right past him down the hall toward Landon’s office.
“Hey!” he called after me.
But I was sick of arbitrary rules. This was important. Besides, I had a cool two feet on the guy. I could take him if I needed to.
Landon answered the office door almost immediately after I’d knocked. Clearly, he hadn’t been too busy. “Nora. What are you doing here? You didn’t have an appointment.”
“If the Catacombs cares so much about that, they should hire a bigger enforcer. Can I come in before that gnome tries to take me out at the knees?”
He stepped aside and shut the door behind me as I took in the state of his office.
I’d never fully considered the endless interior decorating possibilities that came with being a witch, but the ability to make things appear and disappear sure did allow for a person to fully express his or her moods.
The forest green armchair from my last visit was nowhere to be found. Instead, a long, black velvet chaise lounge was up against the wall opposite his desk. The room was lit only by a few dim floating lights, and the wall where his cork board was stashed was nothing but weathered stone with iron sconces lined up at eye level every five or so feet. Black candles dripped wax down the side, forming small, obsidian puddles on the stone floor.
Clearly, he was in need of some cheering.
“I got good news,” I said, turning slowly as he shuffled back to his desk. The words felt sacrilegious in this place of mourning.
Only after he sat and looked up at me did I notice how puffy his eyes were. “Have a seat,” he said, motioning to the velvet lounger.
“No, I’m good standing. It won’t take long.” I paused, unsure how to dive in. Why was this so awkward? “Um, so, Grace isn’t dead.”
“Yes, she is,” he said. “Someone found her body. The letter was there.”
I crossed my arms. “Frankly, I’m disappointed in you, Landon. You’ve really let your emotions stand in the way of that freakish, conspiratorial mind of yours. Let me ask you this. Did you see the body?”
The corner of his lip twitched into a snarl. He wanted me out of his office, that was clear. “No. It was dragged off into the Deadwoods, probably mangled beyond recognition.”
“Did anyone you spoke to see the body?”
He huffed exasperatedly. “No. But someone did, which is why they sent the emergency owl.”
He wasn’t getting it. He was in a spiral, locked into a single narrative, and the only way I could get him out was to throw a wrench in it, spark some new idea.
“Did you know what time the first train leaves Eastwind each morning?”
His nose crinkled and I noticed a small twitch in the bag under his left eye. “What? No. Why would I know that?”
“I’ll tell you why. Because it leaves at 6:47am.”
“It leaves at …? Oh. Oh.” His eyes opened wide and his lips part
ed slowly as he stared vaguely at, no, past the wall behind me. “Of course. It makes perfect sense. Grace wouldn’t have written anything beyond that time on her desk calendar because she wouldn’t be returning to her desk. She probably has a whole itinerary down in her pocket calendar.” He looked at me. “She doesn’t go anywhere without that.”
A weight seemed to lift off of him as he sat up straighter, and his intellect penetrated the thick, wet blanket of his emotions.
I added, “She’s probably at a scheduled breakfast right now, sipping coffee and thinking about all the exciting possibilities of starting fresh.”
He blew a raspberry at that. “She would never wait this late to eat breakfast, and she only drinks green tea.”
I grinned, watching as this new reality blossomed in his imagination, taking over his mind and body. Hope. That was what it was.
Then he wilted slightly. “Just because she planned to get on the train doesn’t mean she made it. She could have been murdered before she boarded.”
“Nope,” I said, bursting that bubble. “Already checked. The conductor remembered her. Apparently, Grace was extremely interested in the scheduling methods the InterRealm trains used to maintain such punctuality.”
Landon laughed, and as the sound echoed though the dim room, the lights hovering above the morose chaise brightened. “That’s definitely Grace.” He ran his fingers through his hair, leaving a trail of strands sticking out in all directions. It was a good look on him, much better than the usual neatness and precision. “I can’t believe it. Thank Gaia.” He paused, staring vaguely ahead of him. “I should have known. She’s smart. She can take care of herself.”
“But you know our work isn’t done yet, right?”
He whipped his head around to face me and nodded adamantly. “Oh, I know. In fact, our work here is just beginning.”
Attaboy, I thought. “Why don’t you bust out that conspiracy board, then, and we can get started.”