3

I WHIP MY HEAD AROUND TO SEE MY BROTHER STANDING in the middle of my
bedroom, a nervous grin on his face. I scramble off the bed so fast I trip
over my own feet. Next thing I know, I’m across the room with my arms
wrapped around his middle. I’m shaking as his arms hug me back.
“I missed you too.” He laughs.
I relax my grip on him and he steps back, out of my arms. I don’t think
I’ve ever felt so happy in my whole life. My big brother is here. Like really
here. “How? Where have you been? We’ve got to tell Mama!” I can’t get
the words out fast enough as I stare up at his very alive face, a big, goofy
grin sitting below his wide eyes and uneven hairline.
“I’ll explain everything. But for now, I just need you to trust me. Okay?”
Of course I trust him. But how did he just appear out of nowhere? “Um,
okay.”
“Follow me!” He turns and runs out of the room.
I give chase, skidding to a stop in front of Mama’s darkened doorway. I
have to tell her Quinton is back. She won’t need to be sad anymore. We
won’t have to fight anymore either. Everything can go back to the way it
was before.
“There’s no time,” Quinton calls from the living room. “We’ve got to
hurry.” He opens the front door and dashes out into the hallway.
I glance back at Mama’s door as I sprint through the living room,
wondering if Quinton’s voice might have woken her. Her light doesn’t click
on.
But I can’t let Quinton go now. I run after him and it’s all I can do just to
keep up. “Where are we going?”
“The roof,” he calls back.

The roof? Quinton and I used to sneak up there all the time, even though
Mama said it was too dangerous. Like we didn’t have sense enough to stay
away from the edge.
We run up a dozen flights of stairs until we reach the wide, empty roof.
Only it isn’t empty tonight.
“Is that . . . a boat?” I ask.
Quinton grins over his shoulder. “Sure is.” The boat is the size of a
school bus and looks like someone literally dropped a small log cabin on
the back of it. Smoke wafts up from the cabin’s stone chimney. Shiny gold
railings surround the front half of the deck.
I can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous this all is. What is happening
right now? “How did it get here?”
“Gotta hurry!” Quinton disappears around the other side.
I follow, running my fingertips across the smooth hull of the ship. The
wood is so glossy I can see my reflection in the moonlight.
Quinton waves me over. He tugs on a lever and a section of the ship falls
open, becoming a short staircase. Quinton climbs in first, with me behind
him. One long room runs the length of the boat. I’m able to make out two
bunk beds and—swords?—before Quinton leads me up another staircase at
the end of the ship.
We emerge on the deck, and Quinton brings me over to where two large
wooden captain’s wheels are mounted. The wheel in front of us turns left or
right like every other ship. But the wheel to our right is angled so that it can
only be pushed forward or backward from where we’re standing.
I reach out and let my fingers graze the wheel, then jump as the ship jerks
forward a few feet.
He just laughs. “You’re going to want to get some altitude first.” He nods
to the second wheel.
I step back, shaking my head in disbelief. “When you say altitude, you
don’t mean . . .”
“Oh, I do mean.” He smirks and takes hold of the second wheel, gently
pulling it forward. My whole body goes stiff as the ship rises in the air. I
throw both arms around the railing, holding on with everything I’ve got.
My apartment building, and everything else in my neighborhood, gets
smaller and smaller as we continue to rise. How is this happening?
My brother is having the time of his life laughing at me. “Relax, the ship
has been triplebalanced. It’s impossible to fall off.”

“Quinton, we’re flying! You’re just going to act like this is normal?”
Again with the smirk. “Maybe it is.”
Quinton grips the first wheel with both hands and the ship surges
forward. Everything becomes a blur, the stars above stretching into glowing
streaks. I can feel the wind on my face, but for as fast as we must be going,
my legs really do feel steady—like I’m still on the ground.
He releases the wheel and the ship glides to a smooth stop in midair.
The smell of sea salt tickles my nose. There’s water in every direction.
“Is this the ocean?”
My brother nods. “Take a peek through that telescope next to the railing
and look down. Tell me what you see.”
Down? Who uses a telescope to look down?
Still, I step over and peer through. “All I see is ocean.”
“Keep looking. It’s a special telescope so it might take your eyes a few
seconds to adjust.”
I squint a little. Nothing . . . and then something. It appears only for a
second before it’s gone again—a streak of white, like lightning arcing
across the ocean floor.
“What was that?” I ask.
“Keep looking. And this time, use the dial.”
As I turn the dial, my view through the telescope magnifies. Now I can
see that those streaks of light are actually glowing trains, racing across the
ocean floor. “No way,” I whisper.
I zoom out a bit to find more trains and I’m nearly blinded by all the
light. That train is just one of what seems like thousands of them,
zigzagging and swirling in every direction. For as far as I can see, the ocean
lights up, like it’s trying to outshine the starry night above. The whole world
becomes a light show, just for me.
I turn to Quinton, tears in my eyes. “It’s beautiful.”
But the big smile Quinton’s been wearing since he showed up in my
bedroom begins to fade. “The International Railways of Atlantis. I only
wish I could’ve shown you this in person.”
“I don’t understand,” I say.
“I wanted you to know just how vast and how wondrous the world really
is. Everything you’ve seen, from those trains to this ship, is real, Amari.
They’re out there anytime you want to see them. Everything . . . except
me.”

I shake my head. “But I’m looking right at you.”
“You’re looking through the shades. This is only an interactive recording.
We call it a Wakeful Dream. I left instructions for its delivery in case
something happened to me. And I guess it did. I took a dangerous job I love
dearly, and I knew the risks. Still, I really wish I was there with you now.”
The world around us begins to dim.
I rush over and throw my arms around him. “What happened to you?”
“I don’t know,” Quinton says softly. “But this dream was only supposed
to be sent to you if the Bureau declared me missing . . . or dead.”
“You’re only missing.” I shudder. “I can feel it.”
Quinton squeezes me tighter. “Whatever happened to me, please don’t let
it discourage you from exploring this world to its fullest. Some of the things
I’ve seen will take your breath away. I’ve left you a nomination with
instructions on it.”
“A nomination?” I ask. “For what?”
Everything goes black.
“Time’s up, Chicken Little. I love you.”
“I love you too,” I whisper. “I’m going to find you. The real you. No
matter what it takes.”