a hundred different shades of marble, white and black and green and pink, all laid out in fine and fancy patterns. Everything was edged with gold, and the arched dome ceiling was aquamarine and filled with stars. Except for the tunnel the train had come through, there were only two exits, one marked NORTHBOUND TRAINS and the other SOUTHBOUND TRAINS.
The platform was crowded with people. Like the train passengers, they were all ages and all colors. They waved and shouted to the disembarking passengers. Couples embraced and kissed. Parents hugged their children and hoisted little ones up on their shoulders. Friends clasped hands and cried joyful tears. But there were cops too, in clean blue uniforms, who, all silent and solemn, linked arms with some of the passengers and walked them toward the stairs marked SOUTHBOUND.
Jack and I stared around. I had no idea what to do or where to go. Then I turned to see Daddy Joe coming down the stairs, with Morgan tucked under one arm. Morgan kicked and waved his fists, but this didn’t seem to bother the porter at all.
“I… uh… Mr. Joe, what do we do?” I asked.
“Sorry. Not for me to say. I got to see this one delivered.” Daddy Joe shook Morgan until his teeth rattled. “Besides, this young man’s got somebody waiting on him.”
“Jacob!”
She came pushing through the crowd. I recognized her right off. She had Jack’s blue eyes and the same brown hair, although hers was long and all in curls.
“Hannah!” Jack cried. “Hannah!”
The little girl leapt into Jack’s arms, and he caught her and whirled her around so easily I knew they’d done it a thousand times before.
I grinned up at Daddy Joe. He touched his hat brim.
“Please,” whispered Morgan from under the porter’s arm. “Please, help me.”
“You remember you said that,” rumbled Daddy Joe. “Maybe next time it’ll go better. ’Scuse me, Calliope.”
Daddy Joe slung Morgan over his shoulder and marched away down the southbound stairs.
Jack hadn’t noticed any of this, of course. He was on his knees in front of his little sister. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I’m so sorry. It was all my fault. Can you forgive me?”
But she leaned forward and rubbed her nose against his. “Silly!” she cried. “It wasn’t your fault. Not ever. And I’m okay now.”
“Are you really?”
She nodded. “Truly. And I do forgive you for not playing dolls with me.”
Jack barked out a laugh, and the two of them hugged for a long time.
“I’ve been awful worried about you, though,” said Hannah solemnly when she was finally able to pull away from her brother. “You wouldn’t let go of me, and they were using it to hurt you.” She laid her hand over his heart. “You won’t let them do that anymore, will you, Jacob? Please.”
“I won’t, Hannah. I promise. But…”
“But what?”
“I’m… I’m dead, aren’t I?”
She laughed. “Not yet, Jacob. Not you.”
They both turned to look at me. That huge, bustling station suddenly felt very small and very still. I reached my hand to the loose spot on my scalp and let it fall down again.
“Callie?” Jack whispered.
“That’s up to her,” said Hannah.
“What do you mean?” The words crawled awkwardly out of me.
Jack’s little sister didn’t have eyes in her face, but she didn’t have empty holes either. Her eyes were like Baya’s, filled with night and stars, and she was studying me, not hard, but kindly, like she just wanted to know me better. “Sometimes people who make it this far have to make a decision.”
I looked from the northbound stairs to the southbound, and Hannah Hollander laughed hard.
“Not that kind of decision! That’s made way before any of us get here. No. You’ve got to decide whether to go back or not.”
The train was still behind me. I could hear the clink of cooling metal. The crowd had cleared out. The Hollands-Hollanders-and I stood alone on the platform.
“What about my grandparents, my mother’s parents?”
“They weren’t sure you’d want to see them, but they’re waiting for you that way.” Hannah waved toward the northbound stairs.
“My folks aren’t here, are they?”
“Nope. They’re still in the lands of the living.”
“And Jack?”
Hannah’s smile drooped slowly, and Jack took her hand. “Whatever you do, Callie, Jacob’s got a long way to go yet.”
But I didn’t have to go so far. Not if I didn’t want to.
I looked at Hannah and saw how she shone all happy. I felt a kind of peace settling around me. I thought about the way the faces of the people lit up as they climbed the stairs with their friends and family. I thought about seeing Grandma and Grandpa again, about being able to forgive and just be family,
But my parents weren’t here. Mama and, yes, Papa were out in the wide, living worlds somewhere. Grandma and Grandpa couldn’t help them. The king and queen of the Midnight Throne wouldn’t help them. If I went up those stairs, the throne would go to Uncle Lorcan, and it would be like Mama and Papa didn’t exist.
I had a choice to make, and I made it.
“I’m going back.”
Hannah nodded solemnly. “It’s going to be hard,” she said. “That prophecy? It’s still there. Both sides are going to want you for their own, and they are not going to give up easy.”
“Neither am I,” I said.
Hannah Hollander nodded, her brown curls bobbing. “You’d better take Jacob with you, then. You’re gonna need him.”
“Maybe…,” I began, but Jack shook his head.
“Oh, no. I’m seeing this through. How else am I gonna know how the story ends?”
There was a lot under those words. I’d go digging for it later.
Jack turned to his sister, his face creasing to hold back tears and get ready for good-bye. Little Hannah just went up on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around him, and hugged him tight.
“It’s okay, Jacob. I can come meet the train anytime.”
“Thanks, Hannah.”
“You take care of yourself, all right?” She looked him in the eyes with her midnight and stars.
“I will, I promise.” He kissed her forehead, and she rubbed his nose. Then she spun around and ran up the northbound stairs. At the first landing, she turned and waved, and we both waved back.
Hannah whisked out of sight, and Jack lowered his hand. If the weight of the world had slipped from me when we boarded the train, I could see it rolled off Jack now. He’d been forgiven by his little sister, and I could see he’d forgiven himself too. Here, on the edge of all the worlds there were, something tight and hard had vanished from behind Jack Holland’s eyes, and I was pretty sure it was gone for good.
He turned to me and took both my hands. “I got a wish, Callie. I wish you were better. I wish we were back in Kansas City.”
We linked elbows and strolled away. I made the world key turn with a wave of my hand. It had never been this easy before, and I was sure it never would be again. But that was later.
Right now, a door opened in front of us, and we went through, walking easy and free all the way back to Kansas City.
Author’s Note
