“I understand. Go back to Mary and tell her the Chocolate Ogre says yes. I’ll meet her.”

The girl left as quickly as she could, and Nick showed the note to Johnnie-O.

“Two hundred Afterlights?” said Johnnie-O. “If all she has are two hundred, we outnumber her two to one! We could take them on right now!” He pounded his fist into his palm. “Sneak attack!”

“We could, but we won’t. This is about freeing, not fighting—never forget that.”

“Yeah, but you got an army back there waiting to bust some heads.”

“We’re in Everlost,” Nick reminded him. “Heads don’t bust.” But Johnnie-O still wasn’t satisfied. Nick sighed. “You’ll have your fight,” Nick admitted—as much to himself as to Johnnie-O. “Mary’s got them so brainwashed, they’ll fight us rather than take their coins.”

“Then we’ll force ’em” said Johnnie-O. “We’ll make ’em take their coins, and if they don’t, we’ll push ’em down into the dirt. Good riddance!”

A surge of anger raged through Nick, and for a moment his chocolate ran as dark as licorice. He grabbed Johnnie-O by the shirt, and his voice became a deep liquid roar. “That’s not the way we do things around here!”

Johnnie-O was not intimidated. “You’re the one who wanted an army,” he said. “What did you think an army was for?”

Johnnie-O’s point struck deep. The idea of gathering a fighting force was one thing—but actually using it was another. Nick might have been a good leader, but he was no warlord.

His anger faded, and he let his chocolate arm slip from Johnnie-O’s shirt, leaving behind a nasty brown stain in the middle of his chest.

“Once Mary’s defeated, we’ll free the ones we can,” Nick said.

“And if they won’t take their coins?” Johnnie-O asked.

“Then we take them as prisoners of war,” Nick told him.

Johnnie-O nodded, but his expression was still one of worry. “Y’know … you can’t fight her if you love her.” All this time it had been an unspoken rule that they never spoke of Nick’s feelings toward Mary. But maybe Johnnie-O was right to bring it up.

“I fought her before, and I won,” Nick reminded him.

“Yes, but this time, she’ll be ready.”

Nick closed his eyes, and searched for something in himself more sturdy than chocolate. “So will I.”

The note from Mary had come shortly after noon, but it was more than an hour before Nick called for Zin. He wanted some solitude, some silence so he could find a sense of resolve, but the Mississippi wind whistled over the train, making it difficult to feel anything but uneasy.