“Oh, the boy isn’t here,” Nissim said.
The annoyed man turned back, acting surprised to find him still here. “So where is the nameless one?”
“I was trying to explain,” Nissim insisted with a tight, offended tone. “I wasn’t comfortable having him with us, but then he said that he needed help with the toilet. So I took him. And when we got behind that door, the child looked at me with those pale sick eyes . . . he looked at me and said that he didn’t very much like the world, and he was leaving.”
The annoyed man didn’t react.
“Leaving where?” Seldom asked.
Nissim sat back in the bench and shook his head. “I was standing beside him. And then a moment later, he was gone.”
The man made a long wet sound, as if preparing to spit.
“But you obviously know something about the child,” Nissim said. “And I can guess why you want to find him.”
The man started to answer but thought better of it.
“That boy is magical.” Master glanced at Elata, flashing a fine little smile. Then to everybody, with a teacher’s best voice, he announced, “That peculiar little creature just melted into the air and was gone.”
The nearby passengers had been listening, and they laughed nervously. The annoyed man got to his feet and started to curse, nobody able to tell just who was receiving the brunt of his rage. Then he went to the back bench again, and eventually his partners returned. The cargo hold and every cubby had been searched, and no odd boy was uncovered. Then a few moments later, the blimp arrived at Rail and the gangway deployed, and after a few hard words, two of the men disembarked.
“Now who’s left?” Nissim asked.
Elata looked. “The leader is.”
As if in misery, Seldom bent forward. “Did that really happen?”
Nobody answered.
“Did Diamond vanish?”
“No, of course not,” said Elata.
“Good.”
Then Nissim leaned close to them, quietly saying, “But there is magic about our friend. And probably more than any of us can know.”
Diamond ran until too many people were sharing the walkway, and then he walked, quick feet taking little steps. He was always watching faces. Young men deserved special attention. The men who had scared Master Nissim could be somewhere close. With his mind’s eyes, he studied their faces. If they appeared again, he would run. If cornered, he would fight. He wasn’t sure how to fight, but he had the knife and healthy share of fear, and while he walked, Diamond imagined battles between him and those big dangerous men—noisy wild struggles full of blood and deep wounds.
The walkway grew wider, and the branches rose up to create a ceiling as he approached the next tree. People left their umbrellas closed. Enormous leaves absorbed the endless fall of wastes. The air inside the forest canopy was damp and surprisingly quiet, voices and bird songs smothered by the foliage. Women with babies were always happy to offer directions. All of them knew Ivory Station. One lady promised that it was close, but the next said that it was quite a walk for a little guy, and should he be alone like this? Diamond trotted on, weaving through the traffic. Doubts kept attacking. But this wasn’t where he needed to be, and what was behind him wasn’t where he wanted to stay.
A crossroads appeared. Three other walkways intersected with his route—a collision of people and motion demanding a huge circle of varnished wood, golden and shiny. Diamond hesitated. There were too many faces, too many judgments to make. He kept seeing the dangerous men shuffling along, and then he would look again, realizing they were strangers. The world was jammed with people, and how could a person hope to know everybody? Being surrounded by strangers forever seemed terrible, and at that point the boy found a bench at the edge of the circle, sat down and let tears come.
People noticed. An old woman took it upon herself to come over, inquiring if he was all right.
He stood again, wiping his eyes.
“Do you need help?” she asked.
He nodded, ready to ask once again for directions.
Then someone called out, “Diamond.”
It was a man’s voice, but not deep. Not like his father’s or Master Nissim’s voices. Diamond saw a man and woman walking toward him, holding each other’s hands. They seemed utterly happy. Nothing else in the world mattered to them but each other, and certainly there was no reason to care about one small, odd boy.
“Well, what is your problem?” the old woman asked impatiently.
Diamond blinked and lied. “I’m fine,” he said.
Grumbling, she set off in her own important direction.
The couple was leaning into each other, whispering and laughing. Turning with the circle, they moved out of Diamond’s line of sight, and that was when he noticed the slender man sitting alone. A book was opened in the man’s lap, but he was looking only at the boy. A broad smile filled his face. He seemed joyful. He didn’t stand but he lifted his left arm and waved, and once again the high-pitched voice said, “Diamond.”
Diamond stepped backwards, hope overruled by worries.
Then the man’s expression turned serious, and he took the trouble to rise to his feet. “Your father sent me,” the man called out. “Come here, please.”
Hope won. Diamond started forward.
Nodding agreeably, the slender man sat again, closing the book and setting it on a tall stack of books and papers. He had a thin small mouth and a slender face that still looked boyish despite thousands of days of life. He was dressed in neat clothes with a dark jacket and some kind of elaborate rope dangling down his narrow chest. His shoes were black and glossy, open in front for the toes. He was working hard to appear relaxed, but one foot was crossed over the other, long toes wiggling.
Diamond stopped a few steps short of him.
Caution amused the man. He smiled and straightened his back, nothing about his manner changing. “Your father did a wonderful job describing you. Hello, Diamond. How are you?”
He didn’t answer.
“I know. You’re worried and scared.” This man didn’t worry. That’s what he said with his confident grin and how he calmly sat back down again. Only his toes refused to relax. “This has been such a difficult day, I’m sure. For your parents as well as you, I know.”
“Where is he?” Diamond asked.
“Your father’s close. He’s waiting at the Station, in fact, and he’s very sorry for what happened. He heard about your adventures. He returned a little while ago and found messages from the police. Apparently you woke up this morning and found yourself alone. Of course you went looking for your parents. Two ladies got involved, and you had some adventure with neighbor children, and people reported seeing you after that. Nobody knows the whole story—except you, of course. But Merit is a smart man, and he guessed that you were trying find him at his office.”
“Is Father all right?”
“Except for being so very sorry, yes. He is fine.”
Diamond smiled.
“My name is List.”
“List?”
“Oh, this has been one enormous string of mistakes.” The man shook his head sadly. “That’s why your father confided to me. He needed help finding you. That’s why I came out here myself. I’ve always had a talent for understanding children. I suppose that’s why I guessed where you might show up next.”
“Where’s my mother?”
List paused for a moment. “She’s home again.”
Another great hope was answered. Those words were accepted, embraced and believed. Diamond was still scared, but at least he could imagine Mother sitting in his dark deep room, crying to herself while clinging to poor Mister Mister. And Father was waiting up ahead somewhere. His parents felt awful for leaving him, and they should be miserable, and the boy was suddenly angry. And somehow that anger only made him happier.
The slender man waited patiently.
Then a woman emerged from the endless stream of people. She rushed over to him, saying, “Archon, my goodness. I didn’t recognize you.”