“Ruth, I’m going to ask for an enormous favor. The biggest favor I’ve ever asked of you. And I’m not going to be able to tel you why.”
“Okay,” she said hesitantly.
“Can you please take me to the train station? And not tel my parents or Michael. Or anyone else who might ask.”
She paused, weighing very careful y whether or not to utter her next words. “El ie, I know.”
“Know what?”
“I know about you and Michael—and the flying.”
I was stunned into speechlessness.
Ruth looked down at her hands, almost embarrassed by what she’d said and how she knew. “I told you earlier that I just didn’t understand the whole Facebook thing. It seemed total y out of character for you, and you acted so different afterward. So I started eavesdropping here and there. I overheard you saying to Michael that you’d see him later that night—even though you were grounded. It got me wondering whether you two were sneaking out, and whether Michael was the reason you changed so much. So I began to fol ow you—at night. That’s when I saw you fly for the first time.”
“You saw us.” I couldn’t believe my ears.
“Yes.” She smiled despite herself. “It was real y amazing to watch.”
I shook my head in disbelief.
“El ie, does the trip to the train station have something to do with your flying?”
“Yes, in a way.”
She paused again. It was strange for me to watch my best friend of seven years acting so uncomfortable around me. “What are you, El ie?”
I didn’t have an answer, although I wished desperately that I did. “Would you believe me if I told you that I honestly don’t know?”
Reaching out toward me, she clasped my hand. “After seeing you two fly, I’d believe anything.”
I didn’t want to push her along, but I knew I was running out of time. “So you’l take me to the train station?”
“Do you real y need to go? I don’t know what I’l do without you, El ie. Especial y now that you are back. The real you, I mean.”
Tears started wel ing up in my eyes at the idea of leaving my poor parents behind. And Ruth. And Til inghast. But I knew I couldn’t stay. Ezekiel had warned me.
“I have to go. It’s in everyone’s best interest,” I said, knowing that Ruth couldn’t possibly comprehend—or believe—the danger I’d be thrusting upon Til inghast if I didn’t leave.
“Take me with you, El ie,” she said suddenly. Although I could tel she’d been mustering up the courage to make her request.
“You don’t want to be a part of this. I promise you.”
“El ie, I don’t know what you are, but I know you are more than human.” She started to cry too. “I’ve seen up close what it means to be human. With my mom’s death. And I don’t want to end up like that. I’d rather be like you.”
Watching Ruth cry made me cry harder. “Oh, Ruth, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t turn you into whatever I am. And anyway, I don’t think my differences make me immune from dying.”
We hugged each other for a long time. Ruth broke away first, and turned the car back on. “I guess I should take you to the train station.”
Chapter Thirty-four
I walked into the back entrance of the sleepy Til inghast train station feeling more alone than ever before. It wasn’t because the station was empty except for a lone ticket agent or because I was uncertain about my destination. It was because I was truly on my own.
I didn’t know when—or how—my solitude would end. I couldn’t see or even contact my parents until I could be certain I wouldn’t cause them harm.
The same applied to Ruth. As for Michael, wel , he had chosen Ezekiel over me; he was gone. And there was no one else.
As I stared up at the train destination board, a tear ran down my cheek. For a split second, I was glad to be alone. I didn’t want anyone to see my weakness. I needed to be strong to face the coming days.
Wiping the tear away, I concentrated on the board. I scanned the list of trains slated to leave the station in the morning, but immediately rejected those as departing too late. I couldn’t chance staying overnight in the station. I didn’t doubt that Ezekiel could descend upon me if he so chose, but I did not want my parents to find me and suffer Ezekiel’s wrath.
Then I noticed that one last train was due into the station that night, just after eight P.M. Cal ed the Downeaster, the train stopped at the Til inghast station in fifteen minutes. It would arrive in Boston in about three hours—Boston. I had my destination; it couldn’t have been more perfect if I’d planned it.
I waited until the station agent stepped away from his post to buy my ticket from the ticket machine with cash. Purchasing it from the automated tel er rather than the agent seemed wiser. I’d gain some lead time if Ezekiel and Michael changed their col ective minds and fol owed me, instead of waiting as Ezekiel initial y instructed.
Ticket in hand, I headed into the ladies’ room to wait until I heard the train pul into the station. I didn’t want to give the agent any additional time to identify me. I paced around restlessly, listening intently for the train and making a few critical internet searches before I tossed my cel phone. I didn’t want anyone to trace me that way either.
As I jotted down the vital pieces of information from my research, I heard the chug of the train. Then I threw my cel into the trash.
Peering out the bathroom door, I didn’t see the agent anywhere. I darted from the bathroom into the train, quickly grabbed a seat, and buried myself in a book I snatched from my bag. I didn’t want to look as if I’d just boarded, in case the Til inghast agent peeked in.
I didn’t real y exhale until the train pul ed away from the Til inghast station. Only then, and only surreptitiously, did I assess my fel ow travelers. In the rear of the car sat two businessmen talking about a meeting they had the next morning with a prospective client. In the occupied seats closest to mine were a few kids that looked like they were headed back to col ege. I kept an eye on them. Their sweatshirts, backpacks, and other paraphernalia bore the Harvard logo, and I thought they might prove useful.
The door separating the cars suddenly slid open, and I jumped. It was only the conductor ready to take my ticket. As I pretended to rifle through my bag so I wouldn’t have to look directly at him, I handed it over. He punched it and then placed the stub in the slot above my head. His business completed, he left the car.
I had three hours until we reached Boston. Three hours to prepare. Three hours to map out a game plan.
I decided to start by assessing my resources—whatever was in my bag. I hadn’t exactly planned my departure in advance, so I was limited to what I carried. When we traveled, my parents always insisted that I carry on my person al the necessities should I ever be separated from them—a couple hundred dol ars, identification, a toiletry bag with essentials, credit cards, and an ATM card that now I’d have to avoid using except when absolutely necessary. I’d gotten into the habit of carrying these things. Lucky that I did. It made me prepared for a day like this. Maybe that was their intention al along; maybe they knew a day like this would come.
Thinking about my parents—and I would always consider them my mom and dad, birth parents or not—made my eyes start to wel up again. I wasn’t mad at them anymore for keeping secrets; I understood that they were just trying to protect me. They’d even given up their immortality to shield me. And even though Ezekiel couldn’t be trusted, I believed what he said about their sacrificed immortality when I thought how my parents had aged in the past sixteen years after staying youthful for over a hundred years of pictures.
But if they weren’t my real parents, who were? Were my real parents stil alive? Why did Hananel and Daniel have to raise me? Who did they make that arrangement with?