“Well,” said Allie, “you can probably change where you’re going, don’t you think?”

Mikey didn’t seem too convinced. “I was a pretty nasty monster,” he said.

“Were” reminded Allie. “That was then, this is now.”

Mikey seemed to appreciate her practical, logical view of things. “So then, how long do you think it would take to make up for being a monster?”

Allie thought about the question. “I have no idea. But some people believe that all it takes is a sincere decision to change, and you’re saved.”

“Maybe,” said Mikey. “But I’d rather play it safe. I was a monster for thirty years, so I’d say I need thirty years of good deeds to wipe the slate clean.”

Allie smirked. “Is Mikey McGill even capable of good deeds?”

Mikey frowned. “Okay, then. Sixty years of halfway-decent deeds.”

“Fair enough,” said Allie. She looked at the coin in her hand. It was lukewarm. She suspected if she held it long enough it would get her where she was going, but just because she was ready to go, it didn’t mean she had to just yet. It was a matter of choice.

What was it her fortune had said? “Linger or Light. The choice is yours.”

Allie chose to put the coin in her hip pocket for now. She always had been good at saving her money.

Mikey held out his hand to her, ready to lift her up on the horse.

“Home?” he asked.

But suddenly it didn’t seem all that urgent. There were still plenty of unknowns to explore here in Everlost. She could squeeze a lot of them in between here and home. “There’s no hurry,” she told him, but Mikey wasn’t pleased.

“Taking you home,” he said, “was going to be my first halfway-decent deed.”

“I’m sure you’ll find another one.”

Mikey sighed in frustration. “This is not going to be easy. I’m good at being bad, but I’m bad at being good. I don’t know the first thing about good deeds.”

“Well,” Allie said, with a grin, “I do know a twelve-step program.” Then she grabbed Mikey’s hand, climbed on the horse with him, and they rode off together toward all things unknown.

Nick had to win this race, even if the odds were against him, and so when the ghost train dropped him off at old Penn Station, he wasted no time. It was dusk now. The train had been fast, but an airship didn’t have to worry about tracks. His only hope was that Mary’s learning curve when it came to flying the thing had slowed her down. When she had first taken to the air, the airship was erratic, turning this way and that, unable to set a course. With any luck, she was still zigzagging across New Jersey, trying to get the hang of it.

He ran at full speed from the station all the way down to the plaza at the base of the towers. The same kids were there playing kickball, jumping rope and playing tag.