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'Jack？' Richard asked； his voice a whiny； irrelevant skirl of sound。
'Would you be safe yourself？' Jack asked。
Anders twisted his big white head sideways and squinted up at Jack as if he had just asked a riddle。 He looked like a huge puzzled dog。
'I mean； I'll be about as safe as you would be yourself。 That's all I mean。'
'But my Lord 。 。 。'
'Jack？' came Richard's querulous voice again。 'I fell asleep； and now I should be awake； but we're still in this weird place； so I'm still dreaming 。 。 。 but I want to be awake； Jack； I don't want to have this dream anymore。 No。 I don't want to。'
And that's why you busted your damn glasses； Jack said to himself。 Aloud； he said； 'This isn't a dream； Richie…boy。 We're about to hit the road。 We're gonna take a train ride。'
'Huh？' Richard said； rubbing his face and sitting up。 If Anders resembled a big white dog in skirts； Richard looked like nothing so much as a newly awakened baby。
'My Lord Jason；' Anders said。 Now he seemed as if he might weep…with relief； Jack thought。 'It is yer will？ It is yer will to drive that devil…machine through the Blasted Lands？'
'It sure is；' Jack said。
'Where are we？' Richard said。 'Are you sure they're not following us？'
Jack turned toward him。 Richard was sitting up on the undulating yellow floor； blinking stupidly； terror still drifting about him like a fog。 'Okay；' he said。 'I'll answer your question。 We're in a section of the Territories called Ellis…Breaks…'
'My head hurts；' Richard said。 He had closed his eyes。
'And；' Jack went on； 'we're going to take this man's train all the way through the Blasted Lands to the black hotel； or as close to it as we can get。 That's it； Richard。 Believe it or not。 And the sooner we do it； the sooner we'll get away from whatever just might be trying to find us。'
'Etheridge；' Richard whispered。 'Mr。 Dufrey。' He looked around the mellow interior of The Depot as if he expected all their pursuers to suddenly pour through the walls。 'It's a brain tumor； you know；' he said to Jack in a tone of perfect reasonableness。 'That's what it is…my headache。'
'My Lord Jason；' old Anders was saying； bowing so low that his hair settled down on the rippling floorboards。 'How good ye are； O High One； how good to yer lowliest servant； how good to those who do not deserve yer blessed presence ' He crawled forward； and Jack saw with horror that he was about to begin that moony foot…kissing all over again。
'Pretty far advanced； too； I'd say；' Richard offered。
'Get up； please； Anders；' Jack said； stepping back。 'Get up； e on； that's enough。' The old man continued to crawl forward； babbling with his relief at not having to endure the Blasted Lands。 'ARISE！' Jack bellowed。
Anders looked up； his forehead wrinkled。 'Yes； my Lord。' He slowly got up。
'Bring your brain tumor over here； Richard；' Jack said 'We're going to see if we can figure out how to drive this damn train。'
2
Anders had moved over behind the long； rippling counter； and was rooting in a drawer。 'I believe it works on devils； my Lord；' he said。 'Strange devils； all hurtled down together。 They do not appear to live； yet they do。 Aye。' He fetched out of the drawer the longest； fattest candle that Jack had ever seen。 From a box atop the counter Anders selected a foot…long； narrow softwood strip； then lowered one of its ends into a glowing lamp。 The strip of wood ignited； and Anders used it to light his enormous candle。 Then he waved the 'match' back and forth until the flame expired in a curl of smoke。
'Devils？' Jack asked。
'Strange square things…I believe the devils are contained therein。 Sometimes how they spit and spark！ I shall show this to ye； Lord Jason。'
Without another word he swept toward the door； the warm glow of the candle momentarily erasing the wrinkles from his face。 Jack followed him outside into the sweetness and amplitude of the deep Territories。 He remembered a photograph on the wall of Speedy Parker's office； a photograph even then filled with an inexplicable power； and realized that he was actually near the site of that photograph。 Far off rose a familiar…looking mountain。 Down the little knoll the fields of grain rolled away in all directions； waving in smooth； wide patterns。 Richard Sloat moved hesitantly beside Jack； rubbing his forehead。 The silvery bands of metal； out of key with the rest of the landscape； stretched inexorably west。
'The shed is in back； my Lord；' Anders said softly； and almost shyly turned away toward the side of The Depot。 Jack took another glance at the far…off mountain。 Now it looked less like the mountain in Speedy's photograph…newer…a western； not an eastern； mountain。
'What's with that Lord Jason business？' Richard whispered right into his ear。 'He thinks he knows you。'
'It's hard to explain；' Jack said。
Richard tugged at his bandanna； then clamped a hand on Jack's biceps。 The old Kansas City Clutch。 'What happened to the school； Jack？ What happened to the dogs？ Where are we？'
'Just e along；' Jack said。 'You're probably still dreaming。'
'Yes；' Richard said in the tone of purest relief。 'Yes； that's it； isn't it？ I'm still asleep。 You told me all that crazy stuff about the Territories； and now I'm dreaming about it。'
'Yeah；' Jack said； and set off after Anders。 The old man was holding up the enormous candle like a torch and drifting down the rear side of the knoll toward another； slightly larger； octagonal wooden building。 The two boys followed him through the tall yellow grass。 Light spilled from another of the transparent globes； revealing that this second building was open at opposite ends； as if two matching faces of the octagon had been neatly sliced away。 The silvery train tracks ran through these open ends。 Anders reached the large shed and turned around to wait for the boys。 With the flaring； sputtering； upheld candle； his long beard and odd clothes； Anders resembled a creature from legend or faery； a sorcerer or wizard。
'It sits here； as it has since it came； and may the demons drive it hence。' Anders scowled at the boys； and all his wrinkles deepened。 'Invention of hell。 A foul thing； d'ye ken。' He looked over his shoulder when the boys were before him。 Jack saw that Anders did not even like being in the shed with the train。 'Half its cargo is aboard； and it； too； stinks of hell。'
Jack stepped into the open end of the shed； forcing Anders to follow him。 Richard stumbled after； rubbing his eyes。 The little train sat pointing west on the tracks…an odd…looking engine； a boxcar； a flatcar covered with a straining tarp。 From this last car came the smell Anders so disliked。 It was a wrong smell； not of the Territories； both metallic and greasy。
Richard immediately went to one of the interior angles of the shed； sat down on the floor with his back to the wall； and closed his eyes。
'D'ye ken its workings； my Lord？' Anders asked in a low voice。
Jack shook his head and walked up along the tracks to the head of the train。 Yes； there were Anders's 'demons。' They were box batteries； just as Jack had supposed。 Sixteen of them； in two rows strung together in a metal container supported by the cab's first four wheels。 The entire front part of the train looked like a more sophisticated version of a deliveryboy's bicycle…cart…but where the bicycle itself should have been was a little cab which reminded Jack of something else 。 。 。 something he could not immediately identify。
'The demons talk to the upright stick；' Anders said from behind him。
Jack hoisted himself up into the little cab。 The 'stick' Anders had mentioned was a gearshift set in a slot with three notches。 Then Jack knew what the little cab resembled。 The whole train ran on the same principle as a golf cart。 Battery…powered； it had only three gears： forward； neutral； and reverse。 It was the only sort of train that might possibly work in the Territories； and Morgan Sloat must have had it specially constructed for him。
'The demons in the boxes spit and spark； and talk to the stick； and the stick moves the train； my Lord。' Anders hovered anxiously beside the cab； his face contorting into an astonishing display of wrinkles。
'You were going to leave in the morning？' Jack asked the old man。
'Aye。'
'But the train is ready now？'
'Yes； my Lord。'
Jack nodded； and jumped down。 'What's the cargo？'
'Devil…things；' Anders said grimly。 'For the bad Wolfs。 To take to the black hotel。'
I'd be a jump ahead of Morgan Sloat if I left now； Jack thought。 And looked uneasily over at Richard； who had managed to put himself asleep again。 If it weren't for pig…headed； hypochondriacal Rational Richard； he would never have stumbled onto Sloat's choo…choo； and Sloat would have been able to use the 'devil…things'…weapons of some kind； surely…against him as soon as he got near the black hotel。 For the hotel was the end of his quest； he was sure of that now。 And all of that seemed to argue that Richard； as helpless and annoying as he now was； was going to be more important to his quest than Jack had ever imagined。 The son of Sawyer and the son of Sloat： the son of Prince Philip Sawtelle an