S. Grove - The Glass Sentence

“Perhaps so. It’s the least I can do, dear, since I can’t go with you. Good morning, Theo,” she added.

Sophia turned to see a sleepy-looking Theo in the kitchen doorway. She turned back to her plate with annoyance.

“Good morning,” Theo replied.

“I hope you slept well.”

“Very well. The carpet was extremely comfortable. Were you discussing travel plans?” he asked, sitting down at the table.

“We hadn’t begun. Would you like some eggs?” Mrs. Clay asked, going to the stove.

“I’d love some, Mrs. Clay,” Theo said in his most courteous tone. Sophia stared into her cup. “We talked it over last night,” he went on comfortably, “and we’ve agreed to travel as far as Nochtland together. Right, Sophia?” He smiled at her.

Sophia looked at him unsmilingly. “That’s what we agreed.”

“I could travel as far as the border with you,” Mrs. Clay said uncertainly, handing Theo a full plate.

“That’s kind of you, Mrs. Clay,” Sophia told her, “but the trip to New Orleans will be easy. We’ll probably just have to change trains once.” She did not add that it was the next part of the journey that worried her: where she was most needed, Mrs. Clay could not help. Maybe we’ll get to the border and Theo will just vanish , she thought.

“They will check for papers on the train,” Mrs. Clay said. “I’ve heard that they’re putting foreigners on separate cars.”

“Yes, but I’ll have my papers, and they won’t bother Theo if he’s with me,” Sophia said flatly. “It isn’t July fourth yet.”

“Theo, do you need to get word to anyone? The trip to Nochtland will delay you by several weeks.”

“My family’s not expecting me back for a while,” he replied easily.

“And you’ll take care of Sophia once you reach the Baldlands?”

“Of course. I’ve traveled that route dozens of times—no problem.”

“It seems a terribly long way for you both to go alone,” Mrs. Clay said. She patted her bun and sighed. “If only I knew someone who lived near the border.”

“The greatest help,” Sophia said, “would be to stay here in case Shadrack returns. Otherwise we’ll have no way of knowing.”

“Thanks to him I now have papers and a lifewatch, so I can stay without concern. If something should happen in the next twenty hours, I will send letters by express post to the first major station on your route.”

With a train schedule from Shadrack’s study spread out across the kitchen table, they decided to take the train south through New Occident, all the way to Charleston, South Carolina, and then connect to a train heading west into New Akan. The journey would take several days. The train line ran only as far as New Orleans, and they would have to cross from New Occident into the Baldlands either on horse or on foot.

Sophia looked apprehensively at the blank expanse that bordered New Akan to the west and south. She folded the map slowly. “We should pack,” she said. “Maybe we can catch the midday train to Charleston.”

—9-Hour 03: Leaving for Charleston—

SOPHIA RETRIEVED HER new pack from where she had left it by the front door. She had never imagined it would be put to use so soon. Pulling a small leather trunk out of the wardrobe in her bedroom, she began stowing her clothes, soap, a hairbrush, and a pair of blankets. Though her everyday boots were comfortable enough, she decided to take the laced leather shoes that she used during the school year for athletic competitions. If nothing else went as planned, at least she would be able to run as fast as her feet could carry her. Theo watched from the doorway. “You can borrow any shirts of Shadrack’s that fit,” she said, without looking up. “And his socks are in the bottom drawer of the wardrobe. But you probably remember seeing them there yourself.”

“Very kind of you,” Theo said with a smile, acknowledging the barb. “So you’re still mad?”

“I am fine,” Sophia said, pushing down on the blankets so that they fit.

“All right, if you say so. I’ll be back in a bit—I have to get some shoes.”

Sophia closed her trunk and opened her pack. Sewn from durable, waterproof canvas, it had multiple pockets inside and out. She tucked her pencils, erasers, and a ruler into the pockets. She took a spare pillowcase from her wardrobe, wrapped the glass map in it and put it inside her current drawing notebook alongside Shadrack’s note. The book and atlas fit nicely. Steeling herself, she went once more to Shadrack’s room and opened the bureau drawer where he kept their currency. After folding the bills into a small leather purse beside her identity papers and her lifewatch, she closed the bureau. She tidied the drawers that Theo had left open and straightened the bed. Then, with one last look around the room, she slung the pack’s straps over her shoulders and headed downstairs to find maps for their trip to Nochtland.

When Theo returned, he was wearing a pair of handsome brown boots that looked worn but well cared for. He seemed very pleased with himself. “Where’d you get those?” Sophia asked suspiciously.

“Nice, aren’t they? I went around the block until I found a cobbler, and then I just went in and told him that I’d paid for and left a pair of size ten boots there months earlier and had lost the slip. He searched around in the back room and came back with these. He said he’d been on the verge of throwing them away!”

“Well, I hope someone doesn’t stop you on the street and ask for them back,” she said tersely. She carefully rolled the maps that lay before her on the table and placed them in the new roll-tube. “I have plenty of maps for the rail journey, and I found a map of Nochtland, but there’s nothing with enough detail for the border and nothing for the whole piece of the Baldlands between the border and Nochtland.”

“I told you—I know that part,” Theo said. “No need for a map.”

They heard steps on the stairs. “I’ve packed you some food,” said Mrs. Clay as she entered, handing Theo a basket that appeared full to the brim. “I’m sorry I can’t do more.” Her eyes grew teary. “I’m sorry, Sophia dear, for all of this.” She cleared her throat. “Are you packed?”

“We’re ready to go,” Sophia said.

Mrs. Clay embraced her warmly. “Do be careful, dear. Don’t worry about me or the house—we’ll be fine. Just take care. I have your schedule, and I’ll be here to tell Shadrack what happened should he return.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Clay.”

The housekeeper shook hands with Theo. “You must take care of each other,” she said. “And may the Fates look after you well.”

1891, June 21: Shadrack Missing (Day 1)

Most people believe that The Chronicles of the Great Disruption were written by a charlatan, a false prophet: a man who called himself Amitto and who, in the early days after the Disruption, decided to take advantage of the widespread fear and panic. They contain little detail and little substance: vague words of war and death and miracles. But in some circles the Chronicles have acquired credibility, and Amitto’s followers, particularly those of the Nihilismian sect, claim that the Chronicles hold not only the true history of the Great Disruption but also true prophecies.

—From Shadrack Elli’s History of the New World

ON A HIGH hill surrounded by pines at the northern edge of New Occident stood a sprawling stone mansion bleached white by the sun. The mansion’s windows sparkled in the bright light, and the silver weathervanes on its peaked gables gleamed. A dirt road with a single rail track wove through the pines and up the hill, circling at the entrance. There was no movement along the track. A few crows flapped lazily up through the pines toward a stone cross on the mansion’s highest peak. At one end of the mansion, connected by a narrow archway, stood a chapel. The crows wheeled and cawed and then came to rest on its stone cross. As they claimed their perch, the entire scene became one of perfect stillness—even peace. The pine trees, the streaming sunlight, the pale mansion, all formed a serene landscape. But inside the chapel there was no stillness. In the cavernous vault, a purposeful movement was gathering momentum.