The Copernicus Archives #2 (2015)
“On top of that, every face looked sinister.
“Mom, remember,” Darrell said. “You ask the third cashier for ‘five tickets for the next train to Bishops Stortford via the London Midland line.’”
“I remember, thanks. Go to that newsstand, all of you”—Sara pointed like Roald would do—“pick up a tourist guidebook, and stay put. Do. Not. Move. I’ll be right back.” She gave us a stern look, then headed off to the ticket line. She seemed small and frail in the crowd, but she moved quickly across the floor.
My head was spinning. I had to get the puzzle on paper before I forgot it. The room was so loud that I couldn’t concentrate. Maybe I’d already forgotten it, the strange lines and symbols. Then, on the way to the newsstand, I froze.
Lily tugged at my bad arm. I winced, but I wouldn’t budge.
“Wait,” she said. “Are you seeing Henry the Eighth in your mind? Is he as fat as they say?”
“No,” I said. “I mean, he might be; that’s not it. Someone’s here in the station.”
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