A rainbow sparkling of light, a shimmer in the air like heat on a summer road, and the boy was gone.

“They never tell what they see,” complained Johnnie-O, cracking his oversized knuckles. “You’d think at least one of them would.”

“If you really want to know what they see,” said Nick, “then take a coin yourself.”

Johnnie-O shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. “Naah,” he said, “I’m not done makin’ your life miserable.”

Nick had to laugh. With all of Johnnie-O’s tough-guy attitude, he had turned out to be a solid friend. Of course it hadn’t started that way. Johnnie-O was none too happy when Nick showed up with his magic bucket of coins. That bucket, like the fortune cookies, like the coins themselves, were a gift from the unknown places beyond the tunnel— because the bucket was never empty as long as there was a soul who needed a coin. Nick thought he’d have to search far and wide for those coins, and the fact that the bucket would refill itself the moment no one was looking was a sign to Nick that he was doing the right thing.

Johnnie-O had watched as every member of his gang took a coin, and completed their journey out of Everlost. Why Johnnie-O didn’t use his own coin is something only he could know—Nick never asked him why—such a decision was too personal to ever question.

“I’ll send you down!” Johnnie-O had screamed the day his gang took their coins and disappeared. “Even if I gotta go down to the center of the earth with you, I’ll send you down!” And he had almost done it too. He and Nick had fought and struggled until both were chest deep in the earth. But when Johnnie-O realized he really would go down along with Nick, he backed off, pulled himself out, and let Nick pull himself out as well.

Nick liked to think that, in the end, Johnnie-O realized that giving those kids a ticket out of Everlost was the right thing to do. Nick liked to think Johnnie-O respected him for it. Of course Johnnie-O would never admit that aloud, but the fact that he stayed with Nick, and helped him in his own intimidating way, was proof enough for Nick.

With the boy dispatched to his destination, Nick went up to the train’s engine, where a nine-year-old who called himself Choo-choo Charlie stoked the boiler and studied a map that he had drawn himself. Aside from Charlie’s map, no one had ever made a record of Everlost’s rail lines.

“D’ya think Mary would put my map in one of her books?” Charlie asked.

“Mary won’t put anything in her books that doesn’t help Mary,” Nick told him. “You’d probably have to draw a map where all roads lead to her.”