Chapter Five:

A Journey on MagiTrak

As the summer evenings grew shorter, so the time approached for Ethan's departure to Kaaterskill. Over the last week of August, he revisited his favorite haunts: Law Park, the comic book shop, the Farmers' Market and the Co-op. The Lloyds and the Abrams shared a meal at the frozen custard place overlooking Lake Monona.

Diana made sure that Ethan's trunk was packed with clothes sufficient for the term, all with tags carefully marked "Ethan Lloyd." Of course, she also packed his robes, hat and cloak. Ethan slipped in the box containing his wand and wondered how the trunk could possibly hold all the other supplies he'd bought. The scales, phials, gloves and telescope were all packed inside the cauldron. Nevertheless, Ethan was surprised to find that the cauldron and all the books seemed to fit easily inside the trunk.

When he asked his father about it, Griffin answered slyly, "Yes, that trunk always did seem nice and roomy."

Ethan had named his owl Bucky, after the university's mascot. The bird seemed happy with the name, and gave Ethan an affectionate peck and strutted about proudly when called.

At breakfast one morning, Griffin explained the travel arrangements to Ethan.

"First, I'll take you to Chicago the day after Labor Day. That's the nearest place to catch MagiTrak," he began. "From there it's an overnight trip to Hoboken. A special boat leaves from the terminal there and goes directly to Platteclove Landing. That's where the school wagons pick you up for the trip up the clove to Kaaterskill."

"Do I sleep on the train, Dad?" Ethan asked.

"Yes indeed," Griffin continued. "On this trip, they'll probably have a sleeper car reserved for students heading to Kaaterskill."

"Who else uses the train? I mean, adult wizards can just apparate, can't they? or use a broom?"

"Well, they can go other ways," his father replied patiently. "But this is a big continent. It takes a lot of skill and energy to apparate accurately from the Pacific coast to the Atlantic. And brooms are marvelous, but going across the continent that way takes a long time and can really wear one out. A lot of wizards and witches prefer to travel more comfortably and MagiTrak fits the bill."

On Labor Day, the Abrams' had their traditional barbecue. The Lloyds, Spencer-Blacks and Morgans were all invited, so the boys had one more chance to get together before Ethan headed east and the others started at O'Keefe Middle School.

Griffin had arranged to have Frank Abrams drive them to campus the next morning, where the Chicago bus departed. Pete went along to see Ethan off and as they stood on the sidewalk in front of the student union they speculated on what the new school year would bring each of them.

"I've heard Mrs. Schwartzberg's really tough," Pete said. "So you're probably lucky you're going to school in New York."

"I don't know," Ethan demurred. "Dad says the schoolwork can be really hard at Kaaterskill. I'll probably wish I had Mrs. Schwartzberg."

"Well, at least you get to have an owl at school," Pete said. "You wouldn't see that at O'Keefe."

"No, I guess not," Ethan agreed. "Hey, here comes the bus!"

The coach pulled up and discharged a few passengers. Griffin and Frank brought Ethan's trunk over to the curb.

Diana gave Ethan a big hug.

"Take care of yourself, Ethan," she said, holding back tears. "Time to begin your big adventure!"

"Yeah, mom, I'll let you know how things go," Ethan said, giving her a kiss.

"Good luck, Ethan!" said Frank Abrams, shaking his hand. "I'm sure you'll do well."

"Well this is it, Lloyd!" Pete said as he gave Ethan a hug too. "Be sure you write...I want to know all about what you're up to."

"OK, Pete! And make sure you keep the bullies under control," Ethan said, high-fiving his friend and turning to join Griffin getting on the bus.

Griffin had Bucky's cage as he gave the driver their tickets. The driver took a look at the owl cage and Ethan saw him open his mouth to speak. Ethan was sure that he was going to tell them Bucky couldn't get on the bus. But Griffin gave the man a sudden, sharp look and the driver just smiled and directed them aboard.

Ethan took a window seat where he could wave to his mother, Frank and Pete as the bus pulled away. As the bus wound through downtown Madison on the way to the interstate, Ethan took mental note of each familiar landmark they passed and wondered when he'd see them again.

Then Madison slipped behind them, followed by the flat farmlands of southeastern Wisconsin. Not far across the Illinois line, the farms began to give way to office parks and suburbs as the bus rolled on towards Chicago. Ethan found the new landscape interesting if not attractive; having spent almost all of his eleven years in Madison, things like toll booths and elevated trains were novelties to him. He noticed that the houses were getting closer and closer to each other and residential neighborhoods were broken up by shopping strips and run-down industrial buildings. As they passed the airport, Ethan could see huge jetliners taxiing next to the roadway. Ethan couldn't see the city center yet, but he knew that they must be getting close to their destination.

"You seem quiet, Ethan," his father said. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm OK, Dad," Ethan said, emerging from his reverie. "I guess I'm just thinking that there's an awful lot I don't know."

"Well, that's true enough," Griffin said. "We can all say that, though. You're at the beginning of a journey, an adventure as your mother said. What you don't know now, well, that's for learning."

The bus now turned off the expressway onto city streets. It wound around several blocks and pulled up outside a massive stone building with a long colonnade along one side.

"Union Station," the driver announced.

Ethan and Griffin, carrying Bucky's cage, filed off the bus with the rest of the passengers and waited for the trunk to be unloaded from the baggage compartment.

They walked together into the station, and Ethan gaped at the barrel-vaulted ceiling, light streaming in through the high arched windows. Griffin led the way through the crowds.

"Let's grab a bite to eat," he suggested. "There's quite a bit of time yet before your train leaves."

They found a hamburger stand, got lunch and sat down at an adjacent table. As they ate, Griffin gave Ethan some last instructions for the trip.

"I'll see you onto the platform, Ethan," he said, pulling an envelope out of his pocket. "These are your tickets. The top one is for the train, and the other is for the steamboat tomorrow. Keep these safe. And here's some cash for the trip. There's enough here for your meals, tips for the porter and a bit more just in case."

Ethan took the ticket envelope and the bag of coins and stuffed them into his pockets.

"Now, the trip should be smooth; the train only makes a few stops--Fort Wayne, Cleveland, Buffalo and Scranton--and some of those are in the middle of the night.," Griffin continued. "If you need anything, your porter will be able to help. Oh, and I think it would be wise for your to keep your wand with you when you leave your room."

Ethan thought this odd, as the wand was neatly tucked into its box inside the trunk. But he just said,"OK, Dad, if you think I should."

"And remember, Ethan," Griffin added, looking around them warily. "Keep your guard up. There are all sorts who use the train. Be careful."

"Yes, dad, I'll be careful."

"Good, now, look at the ticket. What track does it say your train leaves from?"

Ethan slid the ticket from its envelope and read, "MagiTrak Hoboken Limited, Track 99Q. 6:00 PM." He looked up at the list of trains on the kiosk next to their table. "That's odd. I don't see the train listed, Dad. There's a 5:55 to Fox Lake and the Lake Shore Limited to Boston at 6:15. And there's nothing listed on Track 99Q."

"Not to worry, son," Griffin assured him. "MagiTrak may use the same station as Amtrak, but that fact's not generally advertised. You'll see where 99Q is soon enough."

They explored the station a bit, looking into shops and getting an ice cream. Just before 5:30, Griffin led Ethan out towards the departure platforms. They passed through the automatic doors for Tracks 14 and 16 and strode down the platform between the two tracks. A sleek modern Amtrak locomotive faced them on Track 16 to the right. Track 14 was vacant to the left.

Pylons were spaced every twenty feet or so down the middle of the platform. They had advertisements attached to the top, just above stencils of the track numbers, "14-16." As he carried Bucky's cage, Ethan started to wonder where his father was leading him when they stopped between the seventh and eighth pylons.

"This should be it," his father said. Ethan saw that the stencil on the next pylon read "99 Q" instead of "14-16." As he watched, a balding middle-aged man with a leather suitcase rushed past them up the platform...and walked straight into the pylon.

"Yes, this is it," Griffin said. "Your platform is that way, Ethan. Keep a good hold on the cage and just walk right through. Keep moving, I'll be right behind you."

"OK, Dad," Ethan said. By now he was willing to ignore the fact the pylon looked quite solid. He took a deep breath and walked ahead. As he reached the pylon, he felt himself moving straight through it. He found himself on an entirely different platform with a sign painted in gold letters on burgundy, "Track 99Q Train departs 6:00 PM."

As Griffin emerged behind him, Ethan looked around. Behind him was a brick pylon. Ahead on the platform was a small crowd of people, some in wizard robes, and others in muggle clothes. And on the track to the left was a shining streamlined locomotive with a large headlight right on top. Emblazoned on its nose was a logo, "MagiTrak/Hoboken Limited."

"Here's your train, son," Griffin said, beaming. "It's always been a favorite of mine. You know, in some ways I wish I was taking it with you."

"Looks pretty cool, dad," Ethan agreed. "Has it changed at all since you went to school? It looks brand new to me."

"She looks as well-kept as ever," Griffin said as they walked alongside the train. "Now what car's your compartment in?"

Ethan looked at the ticket and said, "Car number ten, compartment 8."

"About half way back then," Griffin calculated. "There's the dining car. You'll be about four cars behind that."

When they reached the tenth car, Griffin turned the trunk over to a porter. He lugged the trunk; Ethan started to follow him, but he felt his dad's hand on his shoulder.

"This is where I leave you, Ethan," he said. "Good luck, son! Your mother and I will be thinking about you...we know you'll do your best. Don't let anything get you down."

Ethan had realized the moment of farewell would come, but now that it had arrived, he felt a great reluctance to say goodbye to his father and get aboard. He hugged him tight, setting Bucky down on the platform.

"There, there, Ethan," Griffin comforted him. "It's not really goodbye, you know. We'll be with you in spirit. Use Bucky to keep in touch. And be sure to send along a note for Pete when you do."

"Yeah, I will, dad," Ethan said. "I didn't know how to tell him that Kaaterskill didn't have a US post office. I'll be OK. See you at the end of the term!"

Ethan let his arms slide away from Griffin; he lifted the owl cage again and stepped on board the Hoboken Limited. He waved once to his father, and then followed the porter along the corridor inside the sleeper.

More than half-way down the car, the porter slid the trunk into a room on the right. As he passed, Ethan slipped a silver sickle into his hand.

"Thanks very much, sir. Safe journey, now," the porter smiled.

Ethan reached the compartment door and entered.

"You must be Ethan Lloyd," said a voice within. "Am I glad to see you at last!"

Ethan turned and saw that the voice belonged to a boy about his age, taller and stockier. Brown hair curled over his head; a warm smile lit up his face, which looked weathered for one so young. The most striking thing about his appearance was the intense green of his eyes.

"I'm Tim Van der Meulen," the boy said, stretching his hand out. "Welcome aboard!"

"Hi, Tim," Ethan said as he shook the boy's hand. "But how do you know my name?"

"The conductor has the list, and I got him to tell me who my roommate would be," Tim explained. "I've been on since Winnipeg and it gets a bit boring, you know."

"I suppose it would," Ethan agreed. "Hey, there's my dad on the platform!"

He waved to Griffin, who apparently couldn't see in through the tinted windows. Just then the train began moving very slowly down the platform. Ethan watched his dad wave. Then to his surprise, Griffin stood up straight, waved once more and disappeared.

Tim, who'd been watching out the window, exclaimed, "Whoa! Where'd he go?"

Ethan, who'd never seen his parents travel that way, said with a mixture of worry and envy, "It's called disapparation. He's already home in Madison, I'd guess. You and I aren't allowed to travel that way 'til we turn 17. It took us 2 1/2 hours to get here by bus, and he's gone just like that."

"Amazing," Tim said as the train picked up speed and left the platform behind. "So is your mother a witch as well?"

"What?" Ethan asked distractedly. "Oh, yes, she's a witch and dad's a wizard. What about you?"

"No, my dad's a farmer and mom's a housewife...well, a farm wife really, that's not the same," Tim said. "Were they ever surprised to find out exactly why I was so different!"

"So you didn't know you were a wizard?" Ethan asked, becoming more interested in his new traveling companion.

"Nope. Not until the owl dropped my letter on the front stoop," Tim said. "At first none of us knew what to make of it. But it explained a lot, really."

"Yeah, I'll bet it did. That happened when I got my letter, too," Ethan commented.

"But hang on," Tim looked confused. "Didn't you say your parents are magic folk?"

"A long story," Ethan said, realizing for the first time that it would seem strange to muggle-born and magic-born alike. "But my parents live in the muggle world--in Madison, Wisconsin-- and they'd never told me anything about magic or wizards until my birthday this July."

"Wow, that must have been weird," Tim said. "Me, I'm the only wizard in the family, so far anyway."

"Do you have brothers and sisters?" Ethan asked.

"Five all told. An older brother, 18; older sister, 16. Both as non-magical as can be. I'm third. And two younger brothers, 9 and 6. And the youngest is my 3-year old sister. No magic from them yet, but who knows?"

"Where are you from, Tim?"

"Eastgrove, Saskatchewan," he replied. "That's about two hundred miles southeast of nowhere in the wheat belt."

"I don't know much about Canada...but is Winnipeg close to your farm?" Ethan continued.

"No, it was a long day's drive to Winnipeg," Tim answered. "'Course no one really objected. The whole family came along to see me off, except for Marvin, he's my oldest brother. Someone had to stay to look after the farm. The rest got a chance to visit the big city."

"So is Winnipeg as big as Chicago? I've never seen a city like this one," Ethan said, again looking out at the urban scene passing slowly by their window.

"Well they call it the Chicago of the Prairies and it's plenty big compared to Eastgrove."

"You said your letter explained a lot," Ethan looked back at the curly-headed farm boy. "Did funny things happen to you before you knew?"

"Oh yeah," Tim grinned. "I mean on the farm we started helping out with chores when we were about four. And my mom always said I had a knack for getting into tight spots...and then getting out of them. We have just a few cows...wheat's our real business. Somehow one day when I was in the cow barn, I ended up in the stall with a cow that felt like kicking. Next thing I knew I was up in the hay loft...no ladder, and no, the cow didn't kick me there."

"I know the feeling," Ethan said.

"And then there was a time when I was about 6 and I was out in the field. Dad was driving the combine. When he stopped, I lost my balance getting down and fell; it must have been 20 feet to the ground. He was petrified I'd killed myself. But guess what? I just bounced...like a soccer ball, right back up. Anyway, when they started looking into my letter, it all began to make sense."

"So what do they think...I mean about magic?"

"At first they didn't really know what to think. But Dad says farmers have always believed in magic," Tim said. "Even if they farm hundreds of acres with huge machines and satellite positioning, they still believe that throwing seeds over the right shoulder under a full moon will bring a good harvest. So he figures having a wizard in the family might be a good thing. When he and Mom took me to Calgary to get my things, that's when they really started believing this was all real."

The train had left the Chicago yards by now and picked up speed. Suburbs passed by quickly as the Limited headed for Fort Wayne. The skies, which had been sunny in the city, turned dark as the train caught up with a line of thunderstorms.

"That's a real nice owl," Tim said admiringly.

"His name's Bucky," Ethan said. "Yours looks pretty neat, too. What kind is it?"

Tim had hung his owl's cage from a hook in the ceiling of the compartment. An exceedingly dignified owl, mostly grey with black markings was looking over the boys with intense eyes.

"She's a Great Gray," Tim said proudly. "Her name's Evangeline. Of course, a month ago I didn't know one owl from the next. I'm picking up quite a bit though. Bucky's a barn owl, right?"

"Sure is," said Ethan. Bucky turned to Tim and hooted appreciatively.

Just then a high-pitched voice rang through the car: "Dinner is now being served in the dining car. The first seating is available presently. Second seating will be at 7:30 and the third seating will be at 8:15. The dining car crew looks forward to serving you this evening. Thank you."

"Do you want to eat now?" Ethan asked.

"Definitely!" Tim answered. "Wait 'til you see the dining car...and the food! You have to share the table with whoever else is eating, but it's worth it."

"OK, lead the way," Ethan said. As he was about to leave the compartment his eyes fell on his trunk and he remembered his father's words--"I think it would be wise for you to keep your wand with you." He couldn't see what there was to worry about, but decided to follow Griffin's advice. "Wait, just a minute, Tim."

Ethan opened the trunk, slipped the wand out of its box and put it in his front right pocket. Leaving the room, he closed the door behind him and followed his new friend towards the front of the train. He caught quick glimpses of passengers in other rooms: some clearly students, adult couples, some wizards in pin-striped business robes.

Two more sleepers were immediately ahead of theirs; the third car forward was the lounge. A compact bar was in one corner; three somewhat unkempt wizards sat on high stools there, smoking pipes and enjoying mugs of beer. Other passengers sat in overstuffed chairs arranged randomly around the car. Passing into the dining car, Ethan and Tim soon found themselves at the end of the dinner line.

"Not too bad. Looks like we'll get in on this seating," Tim observed. Four or five passengers were ahead of them; a few moments passed and several more came up behind them. In a few minutes, the host beckoned to them and ushered them to seats at a table for four.

At first Ethan thought the host was a goblin, as he had ridiculously long ears and an extremely pointy nose. But his eyes seemed ready to pop out of his head, he was shorter than the goblins Ethan had seen at Gringott's and he seemed ready to go to any lengths to please the diners, a trait that seemed out of character with goblins.

"Good evening, young masters, welcome," the host said as he seated them. "Name's Ripley and I's your host tonight. Ripley trusts this table will be satisfactory?"

"Looks perfect," Tim replied.

"Excellent, sir, excellent. Here is our menu card for tonight. Please to mark your choices on the card, and we will be most pleased to serve you, most pleased indeed."

Ethan looked over his menu and exclaimed at the extent and variety of the available dishes. No fewer than 5 soups, 3 salads, 10 entrees and 10 desserts were listed. The beverages included familiar choices such as milk and cola, but pumpkin juice and butterbeer also featured.

"Do you recommend anything?" he asked Tim.

"Well, last night, I had the pumpkin soup, rib roast with mashed potatoes and sweet potato tart for dessert. And butterbeer, now there's something new that's really good!" his companion said. "Tonight I think I'm having roast pheasant, squash and bilberry pie."

Ethan pondered his choices and finally settled on the egg drop soup, salmon steak grilled with magical herbs, mashed potatoes and pumpkin pasties. He'd heard so much about butterbeer that he had to try that.

When he'd marked his menu, Ethan set it down and waited for a server to come take his order. But as soon as they placed their cards on the table, Ethan was astonished to see full bowls of soup, a basket of breads and two large mugs of butterbeer appear before him.

Tim grinned at the look on Ethan's face.

"Now I know what I must have looked like last night," he said. "Couldn't you get used to this kind of service? The diner's run by house elfs."

"So that's what Ripley is, eh?" Ethan asked. "I didn't think he was a goblin."

The boys ate eagerly. Ethan had always been a fairly adventurous eater and he was especially hungry on this night. They watched the rain coming down in torrents outside the window; distant but dramatic bolts of lightning illuminated the flat farmland as it passed by.

Just as their main dishes had appeared on their plates, Ripley ushered two more passengers to the other side of the table. One was a tall wizard with a Roman nose, raven hair and a walking stick. The other was a blonde witch, petite, with intense brown eyes.

"May we join you?" the wizard asked politely. Tim just nodded, his mouth full of pheasant. Ethan said, "Certainly, please do."

"Splendid. Dinner does look good tonight, I must say," the wizard said as he sat down. "I'm Malcolm Hastings and this is my sister, Eliza."

"Tim Van der Meulen."

"And I'm Ethan Lloyd."

Ethan was too busy consuming salmon to notice the curious look the newcomers exchanged when they heard his name.

"You two must be headed to school," Eliza Hastings guessed.

"Yes, we're on our way to Kaaterskill," Tim volunteered.

"Ahhh. Your first time, then?" Malcolm Hastings asked, as he surveyed the menu and began marking his choices.

"Right," Ethan answered.

"You're both going a long way from home, aren't you?" Eliza asked.

"That's for sure, I'm from Saskatchewan, " Tim replied.

"And you, Ethan, where's your home?" her brother asked.

"Oh, I'm from Madison, Wisconsin," he said. "Where are you two from?"

"Us? Oh we're on our way from St. Louis to New York...some family business to attend to," Malcolm said. "What do you think of the train, boys?"

"Very cool," Tim affirmed. "I mean, my whole family are muggles, so this is all pretty new to me. But I really love it so far."

"Yes, this must be a bit of culture shock for you, Tim," Eliza said. Just then the Hastings' soups appeared and they began to eat.

After a few minutes silence, Malcolm Hastings cleared his throat and asked,"What about you Ethan? Are you from a muggle family, too?"

"Oh, no, sir. My mom's a witch and my dad's a wizard," he said. "But we do live with muggles, so I don't know much more about magic than Tim."

Hastings raised one eyebrow as he swallowed a spoonful of soup. Then he continued, "Live with muggles, do you? That's odd. I have nothing against them, you understand, but I wouldn't want to live with them."

"Well," Ethan said as his mug of butterbeer refilled itself and two pumpkin pasties appeared on his plate, "To tell you the truth, I don't think they would have chosen it, but they kind of had to."

"Had to?" Eliza echoed. "Why ever was that, Ethan?"

"Well, it was back before I was born, so I'm not really sure," he answered. "But I think they were afraid of being attacked by Vol-, I mean He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Tim had been silent for a while, concentrating on finishing two slices of bilberry pie topped with whipped cream. But now he looked at Ethan with great interest.

"Wait a minute," he said. "I've only read about this in the history book we bought, but your parents fought against the Dark Lord? What did they do?

"Like I said, I don't really know for sure," Ethan said. "I think they'd gotten something You-Know-Who wanted. They left it in a safe place, but they used some sort of spells to basically drop out of sight."

"Extraordinary, my dear boy!" Malcolm Hastings exclaimed as he began working on his Chicken Kiev. "You must be very proud of them!"

"Well, I suppose I am," Ethan said. "Of course, I didn't even know I was a wizard until July, so I've really only just learned about my parents since then, too."

"It must be quite an adjustment for you," Eliza said. "It can be a bit of a shock finding out your parents weren't exactly who you thought they were."

"You're right about that," Ethan said. "And that I wasn't exactly who I thought I was, either."

As they finished dinner, the Hastings asked Tim about life on the farm. Then the conversation passed to school preparations; Ethan mentioned his shopping trip to Old Solomon's Row. They talked until the Hastings' finished their desserts, then all arose to leave.

"We're about six cars back," Eliza mentioned.

"We're in the fourth car back from here," Tim said.

As they entered the lounge car again, Tim noticed a chess set on a low table between two chairs.

"Ethan, you've got to see this," he said excitedly. "This is wizard's chess. Let's play a game."

"Good night, boys," Malcolm Hastings said lazily. "It was a pleasure making your acquaintance. Perhaps we'll see you at breakfast."

"Nice to meet you too," Tim said.

"Good night," Ethan added.

Tim was delighted to give Ethan the full benefit of his twenty-four hour acquaintance with wizard chess, a version of the game in which the pieces actually attacked and maimed each other as they thrust and parried across the board. It was nearly an hour later when they headed back to their car.

Tim was the first to notice that the door to their compartment was ajar.

"That's odd," he said. "Last night when they put down the beds, they closed the door too."

He pushed the door open the rest of the way and exclaimed, "What the---?"

Ethan hurried in and saw at once that the room had been ransacked. His trunk had been opened and the contents were scattered around on the floor. Tim's trunk had also been opened, but only the top layer of his things removed. The two owls seemed to be untouched, though Evangeline had a shocked look on her face and Bucky was fluttering about his cage nervously. Ethan went over to stroke Bucky's feathers, and the barn owl hooted appreciatively. As he comforted his owl, Ethan's eyes fell on the box for his wand, left open on the floor below the cage. The cloth bag in which he normally kept the wand was not in the box.

"Looks like someone wanted something of yours," Tim observed in a shocked tone. "They looked in my trunk but they didn't tear it apart. Everything's here."

"This is strange, Tim," Ethan said as he surveyed the damage. "They didn't take my money. All my books are still here. They didn't take my tickets or my supplies. They left the owls alone. I can only see one thing missing."

"What's that?" Tim asked with interest.

"Just the bag my wand came in," said Ethan. "They didn't get the wand though, 'cause it's in my pocket."

"That was a bit of luck, wasn't it?" Tim said, then added with a perplexed look. "But why'd you have it with you? You can't do magic yet, can you?"

"No, but my dad told me I should keep it with me before I got on the train," Ethan explained. "He didn't tell me why. And I only remembered at the last minute."

Tim was checking his possessions again. He found his wand safely tucked into its box.

"They didn't want my wand," he said. "I guess you must have the deluxe model."

"I don't know much about it yet," Ethan mused. "Then again, it was kinda weird when I got it."

"What do you mean?" asked Tim. "Did you get that lecture about the wand choosing the wizard?"

"Yeah, but that's not what I'm talking about," Ethan continued. He'd taken the wand out of his pocket and was twirling it absent-mindedly in his fingers. "The shopkeeper said that someone else had tried to buy it right before I came in. And he told me the wood in this wand came from the same tree as Voldemort's wand. It really seemed to creep him out."

"You...you said his name!" Tim said, sounding surprised. "I don't know much about him, but I thought you weren't supposed to say the name."

"Yeah, I noticed that too," Ethan said. "But you don't mind do you? I try not to say it around my parents, but as far as I can tell he was--or is--just an evil man, even if he has a lot of magical power. I don't see why we should be afraid of his name."

"I suppose you're right," Tim agreed. "I just don't want everyone to be mad at me from the start. And they seem really touchy about that."

Just then the car attendant, a short, grey-haired wizard in a powder-blue uniform, stuck his head in the room.

"Can I set your beds...," he began, then stopped short as he surveyed Ethan's scattered belongings. "Merlin's beard, boys, what's happened here?"

"We found it this way when we got back from dinner, sir," Tim explained. "They seem have wanted something of Ethan's."

"Well, I'll report this to the conductor and he'll come to investigate," the attendant said. He hurried away and returned a few minutes later with a tall, gaunt wizard in dark blue robes and a pointed hat that had a brass plate engraved with the word "CONDUCTOR."

"I'm Herb Fahnestock, boys," he said gravely. "Abernathy here tells me you've had a bit of trouble and I can see he wasn't kidding. This all happened while you were at dinner?"

"Yes, sir," Ethan and Tim said in unison.

"Now let's see," the conductor said, looking at his manifest. "You are Ethan Lloyd and Timothy Van der Meulen?"

"Yes, I'm Tim and he's Ethan," the Canadian boy volunteered.

"Have either of you noticed anything missing?"

"Only the bag for my wand, sir," said Ethan.

Fahnestock raised an eyebrow and asked, "Only the bag?"

"Yeah, I had the wand with me," Ethan said, holding it up.

"And nothing else was taken?" the conductor asked.

"No, sir," Tim said.

"Well, it's very strange, I'll say that," Fahnestock said with a sigh. "Since whomever did this seemed to be particularly interested in you, Mr. Lloyd, I will ask you: is there anyone aboard this train who knows who you are?"

"No, sir, just Tim and he's been with me all along."

"What about the people we had dinner with, Ethan?" Tim interrupted. "They know both our names and what car we were in. And they seemed pretty interested in you and your family."

"Did you catch their names, Mr. Lloyd?" Fahnestock inquired.

"Yeah, it was Hastings. His name was Malcolm and hers was..."

"Eliza," Tim answered for him. "They said they were brother and sister, from St. Louis."

"And you saw these folks last where and when?"

"Well, when we stayed in the lounge car to play chess they headed back this way," Ethan told him. "They told us they were six cars back of the diner."

Mr. Fahnestock surveyed his passenger list again. After a minute or so, he shook his head.

"Are you sure the name was Hastings?" he asked, furrowing his brow. "I don't have anyone on the train by that name. What did they look like?"

"He was real tall, with dark hair," Ethan said.

"And he had a walking stick," Tim added. "When he set it down, I noticed the top was carved like a snake's head."

"She was pretty short and blonde," Ethan continued. "And she had brown eyes."

"Well, I'll be the first to admit that I don't know what this is all about, boys," the conductor concluded. "I'll circulate those descriptions to the crew and if we find anyone who matches them, we'll question them. Now, why don't we let Abernathy help you clean up and get your beds out?"

He strode off down the corridor and Abernathy stepped into the room.

"Now, Mr. Lloyd, if you'll stand aside, I'll repack your trunk for you," Abernathy offered. Tim had already put his remaining things back into his trunk. The car attendant drew a wand from his jacket pocket. "Books first, then clothes, Mr. Lloyd?"

"Sure, that's fine," Ethan answered curiously.

With one sweep of the wand, Abernathy said loudly, "Pack books!" and Ethan's books flew into the air and back into the trunk in neat piles. Another sweep with the words, "Pack clothes!" and the robes and other clothes followed. Finally, he called out, "Pack cauldron!" and the cauldron, packed with the rest of the supplies fell into place in the trunk.

"Nice model, plenty of expansion in it," Abernathy said.

"Thanks!" was all Ethan could say; he closed and latched the trunk's lid.

"Glad to be of service, sir. Now if you two would stand over by the door for a moment I'll get your beds down," the car attendant. With a few more waves of his wand, Abernathy converted the two chairs into a lower berth, complete with sheets, blankets and pillows. Then he released the upper berth with another charm and furnished it with bedding.

"Cool," Ethan said in admiration.

"Now, I'll leave you to relax," Abernathy said. "Shall I have the diner crew send a couple of hot chocolates up for you?"

"That would be great, if it's no trouble," Tim said.

"None at all. Now, if you need anything, call my name, Abernathy. Good evening!"

When the attendant had gone, Tim shut the door and he and Ethan sat on the lower berth. Ethan was torn between interest in the sleeper setup and worry about the burglary of the room.

"I slept in the lower berth last night since I was alone," Tim said. "But you can have your choice tonight."

"I think I'll stay down here if that's OK," Ethan said. "But you're not going to sleep yet, are you?"

"Nah, I'm not tired," Tim answered. "Besides, I'm looking forward to the hot chocolate. I hope the house elf shows up with it soon."

No sooner had Tim finished then two large mugs of hot chocolate materialized on a small shelf on the opposite side of the room.

"Whoa! That's wicked!" he exclaimed. The boys grabbed the mugs and sat back on the berth. As they sipped the hot drinks, their conversation returned to the break-in.

"I hate to say this, Ethan," Tim started, "but I'm afraid those two were setting us up at dinner. I mean, why use phony names and pretend to be so interested in your family and life on the farm."

"You're right," Ethan agreed. "But I don't understand why anyone would be that interested in me. I mean, like I told them, I really don't know much about what my parents did, and that was years ago."

"Maybe they...nah, that wouldn't make any sense."

"What, Tim? Tell me what you're thinking."

"Well, maybe they--whoever they really are--know more about your parents than you know yourself," Tim said thoughtfully.

"I wish I knew. But I'd rather not think any more about it right now," Ethan said and he changed the subject. "What about you? Did you like living on the farm?"

"Did I like it?" Tim asked between sips of cocoa. "Well, yeah, I like farm life fine. Of course, it's not easy. Even with all the modern equipment and hybrid seeds, Dad never knows from one year to the next whether he's going to make enough to make ends meet."

And so the boys talked about their homes for an hour or so, through another serving of cocoa that appeared just as Ethan mentioned that he'd like seconds. Finally, they started to yawn and changed into pajamas. Tim climbed up into the upper berth and Ethan turned off the light and slid into the lower one. He pulled the blanket up, but propped himself up on one elbow and peered out the window as the dark countryside of Ohio passed by. He heard Tim snoring lightly already above him. "Tim's right," he thought to himself. "I probably know less about my parents than lots of other people. Especially if they were famous once..." And that was his last waking thought before he drifted into a deep sleep.

Some hours later, Ethan drifted into a dream, one that seemed familiar in parts. He was moving through the woods at night; he felt something heavy in his right pocket. He was not alone; a green-eyed boy he thought he recognized was with him, as was a red-haired girl. He sensed that they were trying to escape pursuit and soon he heard harsh voices and the sound of feet crunching the underbrush behind him. Suddenly they entered a clearing with a large rock in its center. In the distance the lights of a large building shone. Ethan and his companions stopped short, for atop the rock was a huge wild cat, with a shaggy mane and tufted ears. Ethan looked at the animal and recognized it as a lynx. He'd seen one in the Madison zoo once. Somehow he felt unthreatened by it. In fact, the lynx seemed to be talking to him. "The secret lies within you, Ethan Lloyd. Unlock it and your quest will succeed." Just then their pursuers reached the clearing. One of them, tall and dark-haired stepped forward and raised his staff. The distant lights illuminated the leering head of a snake carved into the top of the staff. The lynx vanished. Ethan and his friends climbed upon the rock. Before their horrified eyes, the walking stick below them transformed into a very real and very large snake, which began slithering up to them. The snake's head had just reached the top of the rock, when the train must have hit a bumpy section of track, for Ethan woke with a start, shivering, his sheets damp with sweat. He lay awake for a few minutes, then drifted back to sleep. The next thing he remembered was the morning light shining in the window and when he awoke, he had completely forgotten the dream.

Tim had already come down from the top berth and gotten dressed.

"Where are we?" Ethan asked sleepily.

"I think we must be getting near the New Jersey line," Tim answered through his toothbrush. "We left Scranton awhile ago. I heard the conductor announcing that station."

"Then we must not be too far from Hoboken," Ethan surmised, looking at his watch. It's about 6 and we're scheduled to arrive at 8:30."

Ethan got himself dressed and then he and Tim ventured up to the dining car for breakfast. He made certain he had his wand with him. This time, Tim decided to bring his wand, too.

"Just in case," he said.

Conductor Fahnestock passed them on their way. He asked how they'd slept, but could report no success in locating anyone resembling their dinner companions.

"The diner crew remembers them, so we know your description's OK," he said with a perplexed look. "But there's no sign of them on this train now. Either they disapparated from the train--no mean feat doing that from a moving train--or they changed their appearance. Either way, I'd say you do need looking after! Keep your guard up, boys."

While this unsettled Ethan once again, their breakfast was uneventful--and bountiful--as was the remainder of the trip. The train passed over the Delaware Water Gap and on through the New Jersey suburbs. As they slowed to enter the Hoboken yards, Tim and Ethan gathered their trunks and owls and prepared to detrain.

The Hoboken Limited slid alongside Platform 8-Z at exactly 8:30 am.

"Good luck, Mr. Lloyd, and you too, Mr. Van der Meulen," Abernathy said as he handed down their trunks. "Take care of yourselves."

"Well," said Tim, "One part of the trip down. Let's see if the next part is just as exciting."

"I certainly hope not," Ethan said fervently, and he began to haul his baggage down the platform.