“Why don’t you let me hold on to your toy for you until we leave.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea,” he said, suddenly relieved to unload Brianna.

“Michael!” a woman yelled from across the plaza. “Time to go!”

“But there’s a talking mouse here, Mum!”

“Michael, we’ve been through this. Mice simply cannot speak. Now come along.”

“See?” He faced Henry with sad eyes. “She just never believes me.” Shoulders sagging, he walked toward his mother.

“That was careless, Henry,” Coralis said. “You can’t let your guard down. Do you understand what that means?”

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry. But I’ve never seen anything like this and I wanted Brianna to see it, too.”

“It is pretty cool,” she whispered in his defense.

“Yes, apparently people call it the Bean. But a sign over there refers to it as the Cloud Gate. A much more appropriate name. It looks very much like a blob of mercury, don’t you think?”

“Yeah!” said Henry, glad to have changed subjects so easily. “Just like the mercury in the glass tube of Dad’s barometer.” He immediately, involuntarily shuddered at the mention of his father, and quickly checked the mirrorlike surface of metal for any sign of him.

“It’s all right, Henry,” Coralis said, as if reading his thoughts. “He’s gone for now.”

But as they turned to walk away in search of hot dogs and pizza, nearby, a distorted image of a fatherly face gradually dissipated where no reflection should have been.

And it appeared to be smiling.

Chapter Twenty-One

At 3:00 p.m. sharp, the Southwest Chief left the Chicago station on its long, winding path to the West Coast. Mrs. Verrity’s diary continued to be incredibly accurate, and Henry wondered how she could watch the sights and record them at the same time.

With bellies still full and a few hours until dinner, they retired to the first-class sleeping car that Coralis had reserved. Henry hadn’t really known what to expect from their room, and he was amazed at how tiny it was. He’d assumed “first class” meant something a little more fancy than two seats and a bunk bed crammed into a room the size of a walk-in closet. But at least they had their own bathroom.

Coralis checked the schedule and saw there were to be half a dozen stops before they would arrive in Kansas City later that night, which would be their next opportunity to disembark and stretch their legs. He wanted to make the best use of their time before then. Henry’s apprenticeship had officially begun.

Coralis removed a weatherworn leather satchel from one of the many inner pockets of his trench coat and withdrew from it several packets of herbs, which he mixed together in a small ceramic bowl. “This is to relax your mind.” He tapped the bowl lightly with a clear crystal wand and an intoxicating aroma filled the compartment.