“Your mother and I were both conductors, a long time ago. But we weren’t like you, we couldn’t keep going. When things got tough, we gave up.” Uncle Herbert looked down at his feet. “She doesn’t really remember—it’s like a dream to her. But I think that’s why she finds it hard to be around me. And you may have noticed she’s not too fond of trains, either.

“I couldn’t forget, though. I never stopped wanting to be a part of it. So now I help out with some of the magic. But I leave the driving to the experts.”

A half hour later they chugged back up the scary hill they’d swooped down so long ago and back through the old woods, and then Tom was slowing the Silver Arrow down in their own backyard. He stopped it on the exact same spot where they’d started, though now it was facing in the opposite direction.

There was something new in the backyard: a lighted railway clock on a lamppost, like the ones they’d seen at so many of the stations they’d passed.

“Now listen,” Uncle Herbert said. “The way this works, only a few minutes have gone by since you left. If you guys can sneak back into the house without your mom and dad hearing, they’ll never know any of this happened.”

“Really?” Kate said. “But—that’s very weird. Wait, did it all happen? It already feels kind of like a dream.”

“I promise you it happened. Here.” Uncle Herbert handed her the case with Grace Hopper’s glasses. Solemnly he gave Foxy Jones back to Tom. “It’s the realest thing that ever happened to you.”

Just to be doubly sure, Kate felt her elbow where she’d banged it right before they’d sunk through the ice. Yes: The bruise was still there.

They climbed down out of the cab. If what Uncle Herbert had said was true, then technically it was still her birthday, she thought. Not her worst birthday after all, but her best. And definitely the longest.

Kate knelt down next to the porcupine.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “We never took you anywhere. Where do you need to go?”

The porcupine looked around critically.

“I suppose here is fine. Those woods we passed look promising. I’m not picky, you know.”

“You absolutely are picky,” Kate said. “You’re one of the pickiest creatures I’ve ever met!” The porcupine thought about that. “Yes, I suppose I am. I’m definitely picky about my friends.” He promised to visit soon, then ambled off into the night.

“I just can’t believe it’s all over,” Kate said.

Uncle Herbert gave her a funny look. “What do you mean, all over?”

“You know—the trip. The adventure. It’s all finished.”