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While Milos was more than happy to stall as long as possible, Mary’s hordes were getting restless, and nothing would quell the growing discontent but moving them closer to their imaginary destination.
Milos had no choice but to go back to Allie.
“Tell me what you saw,” Milos said, “and I will set you free.”
“Deal,” Allie told him. And then she said, “This church isn’t what it appears to be.”
“If it’s not a church, then what is it?”
“No—it’s still a church but . . .” She sighed. “It would make much more sense if you saw it for yourself. Then you can honestly tell everyone you figured it out, and be the big hero.”
“I went back along the tracks. I looked. I saw nothing.”
“Did you go to the top of the hill?”
“That,” said Milos, “is much more than a mile.”
“My mistake,” said Allie. “Hard to measure distance when you’re tied to the front of a train.”
Again, Milos backtracked alone, and when the tracks began to climb up the hill, he kept going all the way to the top, which afforded him a view of the train, and the terrain around it. There was a small living-world lake to the right of the train, and on the other side of the lake there was a deadspot, about the size of a house. Only a person with a wide view from the front of the train could have seen it as the train came down the hill. There was nothing on the deadspot—just a square made of stones, and a few stone steps that led nowhere. It was the foundation of a building.
It was not unusual for random bits and pieces of the living world to cross into Everlost, but there was something very wrong with this picture. Foundations did not cross into Everlost . . . entire buildings did.
Now he understood exactly what Allie had seen—and what it meant for all of them.
Milos raced back to the train, the memory of a heart beating in his chest, not out of exertion, but out of excitement and out of a fear he was not yet ready to admit. When he arrived back, the others knew right away that something was wrong. Perhaps it was in his eyes, or maybe his Afterlight glow had grown paler—maybe even a little sickly green.
Milos weaved through the groups of jump-roping, ball-playing, yo-yo–bouncing kids, and found Speedo preparing to go out on another rail-finding expedition.
“I will need fifty of our strongest Afterlights,” Milos told him.
“What for?” asked Speedo.
Milos didn’t bother answering him. “Gather them and have them meet me by the church.”
Allie knew that Milos had figured it out, because he came to the front of the train with a huge group of Afterlights—too many for her to count.
“I told you you’d see it,” Allie said, pretending not to be anxious. “All it took was a little perspective.” Milos gave her a quick glance, but not a kind one.
“I don’t understand,” said Speedo. “Are all these Afterlights for my expedition?”
“There will not be another expedition,” Milos told him. “Look under the church. Tell me what you see.”
Speedo reluctantly knelt down, getting eye-level with the railroad ties. “I see the bottom of the church . . . and the tracks underneath it.”
“Exactly,” said Milos. “The church is sitting on top of the tracks.”
“So what?” said Speedo. “It’s still in our way.”
Again, Milos glanced at Allie giving her a chilly look, then he returned all his attention to Speedo.
“Since when does a building cross into Everlost without a foundation?” asked Milos. Speedo could only stammer. “The answer is, it doesn’t.” Then he pointed across the lake. “The church’s foundation is over there.”
“So . . . if the church crossed over there . . . ,” said Speedo, his voice shaking, “. . . how did it get onto our tracks?” But by the way he asked, it was clear Speedo didn’t want to know the answer.
“Someone moved it here,” Milos informed him. “Someone lifted it up, carried it all the way around the lake, and put it down right in our path.”
“Milos gets a gold star!” said Allie.
