G. Lippert - JAMES POTTER AND THE VAULT OF DESTINIES

"Cool," Ralph said, finding a seat in the center of the lead car. "Looks like the entire train grew out of some kind of crazy dream."

"It's called Art Deco," Zane pointed out. "These were designed by some wizard artist named Mucha a long time ago. I learned about him in Magi-American History. Even the Muggles knew about him, although they didn't know he was a wizard, of course."

The train filled quickly and James peered forward, toward the engineer's post under the train's sloping nose. A very thin goblin with a very large bald head stood before the broad windows, which looked out into darkness. A set of gleaming levers were embedded into the train's control panel. The goblin engineer gripped them and then leaned toward a brass tube that extended from above.

" Lincoln Zephyr , five-twenty, now departing the terminal," he announced, and his voice echoed along the length of the train. "Proud to be on time for the eight thousand, three hundred and twenty-first departure in a row. Thank you for patronizing the New Amsterdam Mass Transit Railway System."

There was a loud click as the public address system shut off. The goblin engineer leaned forward and pressed both levers up at the same time. Immediately, the train began to glide forward, so smoothly that James could barely tell that they were moving at all except for the sight of the terminal outside the windows, which began to recede past, accelerating swiftly.

"So how is all of this done?" James finally asked, turning back to Zane and Ralph. "I mean, a whole magical city built right into a Muggle city. How's it work?"

Zane shook his head and raised his hands, palms out. "Don't ask me. I tried to get Stonewall to explain it to me one time and I finally had to ask him to stop because my brain was about to explode. Ask Chancellor Franklyn if you want an answer you can wrap your head around."

"What's that, boys?" Franklyn asked from across the aisle. "A question?"

James' face reddened, but Zane prodded him, gesturing at the old rotund wizard across from them.

"We were just wondering, sir," James said, raising his voice over the increasing drone of the train's engines, "how is it that New York and New Amsterdam can exist in the same place, at the same time?"

Franklyn nodded appreciatively. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't ask, Mr. Potter. The wizarding metropolis of New Amsterdam is, as you can imagine, quite old. It began as a mere alley, not unlike your Diagon Alley, hundreds of years ago, back when the Muggle city of New York was, itself, barely a port village on the Hudson River. As both cities grew, it became apparent that the various Disillusionment and Fidelius Charms put in place by the magical community within the city were simply too haphazard to manage such a large-scale secret. Eventually, the New Amsterdam Department of Magical Administration requested assistance from a foreign ally in the guise of a very unique and gifted witch. Agreeing, this foreign ally sent her, and she has resided with us ever since. This witch, you see, is content to perform one single spell, a very specialized bit of magic that requires nearly all of her prodigious attention—that of casting the most powerful and complete Disillusionment Charm in the entire world."

Ralph let out a low whistle, impressed. "Wow. So she's been here for a long time? How old is she, then?"

"Old," Franklyn laughed, "although not quite as old as I."

"So why does she need to stay here?" James asked. "Why couldn't she just cast the spell and go back home, to wherever she came from?"

Franklyn took off his square spectacles and wiped them on his lapel. "It is complicated, I admit. Some spells need only be cast once, of course, and their effect is satisfied… others…"

"Others require constant support," Merlin added from the seat next to Franklyn. "They dissipate over time. Some have lives of hundreds or thousands of years. Others, however, evaporate nearly instantly. I suspect that such might be the case with a spell as powerful and pervasive as the one which hides this wizard city from the Muggle city that lies beneath it."

"Indeed, and well put," Franklyn agreed. "Thus, our friendly witch remains with us, performing her solitary duty, even as she sleeps."

"Sounds like a rum job if you ask me," Ralph said, shaking his head. "I sure wouldn't want to do it."

"Where does she live?" James interjected, leaning forward. "Have you ever met her?"

"I have spoken to her many times," Franklyn said carefully. "Although, alas, I myself have never heard her voice. Few have. Frankly, I am not sure she speaks English, and my foreign languages are rather woefully rusty these days."

Suddenly, the train shot out of darkness and into the light of the lowering sun. James turned in his seat and squinted out the window.

"Wow," he said, pressing his hands to the glass. "How fast are we going anyway?"

Zane leaned over James' shoulder and shook his head. "Who knows? Fast. I don't think the Zephyr even has a speedometer. No point, really."

Outside, the great blocks and towers of the buildings rolled past the windows with shocking speed. Rivers of yellow taxis and silver buses clogged the Muggle streets while the air above was crowded with streams of witches and wizards on brooms as well as flying trolleys and buses and even the occasional sphinx and hippogriff. The wizarding metropolis of New Amsterdam seemed to occupy many of the second floors of Muggle New York City, with grand entryways that opened atop Muggle theater marquis and awnings. Magical signs and billboards flickered past, announcing all manner of wizard products, businesses, and entertainments, not all of it quite fit for young eyes.

"So does most of New Amsterdam sit up on top of the buildings of New York?" Ralph asked a little breathlessly.

"Yeah, most of it," Zane said. "But there are wizard stores, offices, and secret entrances all over the place. Almost every building in New York has a wizard space in it on the thirteenth floor. Muggle elevators just skip right over it because they're superstitious about the number thirteen. Convenient, eh?"

"What about that skyscraper over there?" James asked, pointing. "The huge one that looks like it's made out of glass. Don't tell me that's a Muggle building!"

" That," Zane said proudly, "is the center of the American wizarding world. It's the headquarters of the Department of Magical Administration, the Worldwide Wizard's Alliance, and the International Magical Bank. People just call it the Crystal Mountain."

"Oh!" Ralph said, smacking his forehead. "I've heard of that! That's excellent! But how do Muggles not see that ?"

Zane shrugged. "Same way they don't see the rest. To them, it's just a three-story parking garage that's always full. It's the sort of thing they expect to see on nearly every corner anyway."

James glanced back at him, unsure if his American friend was joking or not. Zane shrugged and smiled.

A loud click sounded throughout the train as the public address system turned on again. "Attention passengers," the goblin engineer said in a businesslike voice. "Please secure all loose objects and find a handhold. Remember, the M.T.R.S. is not responsible for lost or damaged goods during Muggle railway interactions. Thank you."

"What's that mean?" James said, peering forward. The Zephyr was currently rocketing along an elevated section of track that curved around a bank of industrial buildings. "What are 'Muggle railway interactions'?"

"Oh, this is the best part," Zane said, climbing to his feet. "Come on with me. Grab onto the ceiling handles here along the middle aisle."

"What?" Ralph said suspiciously, but standing nonetheless. "Why?"

"The Zephyr uses most of the same tracks as the Muggle subway," Zane explained, adjusting his stance on the ribbed metal floor. "So, occasionally, the Zephyr and the Muggle trains have… er… interactions."