“One of us has to steer the cart,” Houjin replied. He doesn’t know where he’s going, and you don’t know how to hold us on the track.”

“I could figure it out.”

“Maybe.”

“You old hens quit chattering, and tell me which way we’re heading,” Rector commanded.

Houjin pointed. “Down this split over here.”

It was very, very dark down that split over there. Rector couldn’t see anything beyond the golden bubble of light that radiated from the lantern held just above his head. The light wobbled as he shifted his grip to hold the heavy old thing more comfortably. Anything at all could’ve waited beyond the illumination’s razor-sharp edge.

He stumbled and the light shook harder, but he caught himself.

Houjin casually outpaced him, and Zeke trotted to catch up. “Come on, Rector!” he called.

“I’m coming, you. I’m wearing somebody else’s shoes, all right?” He gulped, steadied his feet, and jogged stiffly forward. “You’ve got to remember, I’ve been laid up. I’m not back to myself yet.”

“There ain’t nothing wrong with you ’cept you’re scared,” Zeke argued.

“You take that back.”

“I won’t, because I was scared when I got here, too. Everybody is at first. Everybody who’s got a lick of sense, anyway.” The younger boy practically danced down the corridor, tripping along the narrow edge between the light and the dark.

Houjin added, “You’ll get used to it.”

“Like you did?”

“Me?” He shrugged. “I don’t remember. I told you, I’ve been here since I was little.”

Rector struggled to keep up to the pair of them, leaning and stretching his arm to hold the lantern out farther in advance of his own steps. He lunged with it, trying to keep them corralled inside the shimmering globe. “This must’ve been a weird place to grow up.”

Houjin shrugged again. “I don’t know. Every place must be.”

“You should get out more.”

“I do get out. I’ve been to Portland, and Tacoma, and San Francisco. And I went to New Orleans a few months ago. I’ve been all over.”

“Ain’t you special, then.”

“I didn’t say that; I only said I’ve been places, and all those places were weird in their own way. You’re the one who should get out more.” Houjin scooted forward, just outside the light—and for a moment, he was lost. “I bet you’ve never been farther than Bainbridge.”

Rector had never even been that far, but he kept it to himself.

The lantern caught up to Houjin and brought him into clear, sharp focus. He’d stopped at the edge of a long rail, a rail that was soon revealed to be one side of a track—the sort used by miners and loggers.

“Where’s the cart?” Rector asked. Surely it must have one.