"Sticks and stones can't break my bones," said Johnnie-O, reciting the familiar Everlost rhyme.

"But names can always hurt me," finished Nick. True enough, because an Everlost name can define you, and not always for the better. "It's not the sticks and stones I'm worried about," Nick said. "It's that look in their eyes."

Nick could see the intensity of their stares. It was a look that spoke of first strikes against intruders. These kids had a communal instinct for self-preservation that left no room for compassion.

"If they want a fight, they'll get one," said Johnnie-O.

Charlie looked at him, worried, and Nick gripped Charlie's shoulder to ease his mind, leaving behind a brown handprint. Johnnie-O might think with his fists, but Nick knew better than to provoke a fight here. More and more kids flooded the street around them. Then, when it seemed that every Afterlight in Atlanta had come out of hiding, Nick said, "Stop the train."

Charlie turned to him, and Nick swore that his afterglow grew a little pale. "You're kidding, right?"

"Dead serious."

Charlie gripped the brake lever, but made no move to stop the train, for his fear would not allow it. "But look-- they're keeping out of our way. If we just keep moving, we'll make it through, doncha think?"

"Who says I want to make it through?"

Charlie shook his head, as if trying to shake off the thought. "You can't be thinking of giving them all coins! There's not enough in the world!"

But that wasn't true; the bucket was never empty. Still, it wouldn't be a good idea to start making kids disappear. The mob would get confused and frightened. The mob would attack. Nick, however, had another reason for making a pit stop here. "Trust me," Nick said, although he wasn't really sure he trusted himself. Still, Charlie sighed and pulled on the brake. The steam engine came to a wheezing, shuddering halt.

"Now what?" asked Johnnie-O.

Nick reached for the door. "I'll be right back."

Johnnie-O stepped in front of him. "I'm going with you."

"No ... . Your hands might scare them."

Johnnie-O smirked. "And your face won't?"

He had a point. "Okay," said Nick, "but you've got to lose that scowl. I want you to smile like an idiot. Can you do that?"

Johnnie-O took a deep breath and smiled like the best of idiots. He did it so well, it was scary. Probably scary enough for the kids outside to throw bricks. So Nick pulled Johnnie-O aside and whispered to him. "Actually, I'm more worried about Charlie panicking. It might be a good idea to keep an eye on him."

The grin left Johnnie-O's face, and he nodded, accepting this new security detail. "On second thought," he said loudly, "maybe I'll stay here and keep my buddy Charlie company."

Charlie seemed relieved to know he wasn't being left alone.

Nick opened the door and stepped down from the engine. Around him the Afterlights of Atlanta backed away, cautious and guarded. He didn't know whether they had heard of the so-called Chocolate Ogre, but even if they hadn't, seeing a face such as his gave him a psychological advantage. A kind of authority of the uncanny.

"Who's in charge here?" Nick asked them. No one answered right away.

"C'mon--a group this big has to have someone in charge."

There were murmurs in the crowd, and then someone spoke, Nick couldn't be sure who it was. "You mean in charge of us, or all Atlanta?"

Interesting, thought Nick. That meant that there was some sort of structure here. Maybe even a government.

"When I say in charge, I mean in charge," he answered.

The crowd murmured again, and once the murmurs had died down, Nick said, "I'll be waiting." Then he strode back to the train, and prepared for a meeting with the eminent ruler of Atlanta.

They kept Nick waiting in the parlor car for more than an hour. It could have been intentional, or it simply could have taken that long to retrieve the kid in charge. Nick gave them the benefit of the doubt. The kid who finally climbed into the parlor car was a tall and gangly African-American Afterlight, about sixteen or so. The torn, shabby clothes he wore made Nick wonder if perhaps he had been a slave when he was alive, and yet there was a confidence to his stride that bristled with powerful independence. Whatever this boy had been forced to endure in life, he had certainly risen above it here.

He looked Nick over and said, "What's wrong with your face?"

Apparently stories of the Chocolate Ogre had not reached Atlanta after all. He didn't know whether to be grateful or annoyed. Either way, he didn't feel like answering the question. "Please sit down," he said. "Let's talk."

The Afterlight introduced himself as Isaiah. He didn't offer to shake Nick's hand.

"Tell me about Atlanta," Nick said. "How many of you are there?"

Apparently Nick wasn't the only one reluctant to give answers. Isaiah crossed his arms. "First tell me about your train," he said. "I've never seen an Everlost train before."

"My train is my business."

"Well, maybe it won't be your train anymore."

Nick wasn't sure whether this was an actual threat, or just a show of force. He decided to match Isaiah's confidence measure for measure.

"You won't take my train."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because," said Nick, "if you meant to steal it from me, you would have done it already. Besides, you don't strike me as the type. I think you're honorable. I think that's how you got to be in charge here. You probably overthrew some bully, and had everyone's support, because the kids here trusted you."

Isaiah smiled. "I took down a whole lot of bullies, actually." He didn't let the smile linger for long. "Honorable or not, you're trespassing."

"It's not trespassing if we stop the train, and ask for permission to pass." Isaiah was not impressed, so Nick added. "Besides, I have something you need."

"And what might that be?"

"News of the world," Nick told him. "News from the north." "I didn't think there was a north in Everlost," Isaiah said. "And anyway, whatever happens there don't matter to us."

Nick kept silent, waiting for Isaiah's curiosity to kick in. Finally Isaiah said, "What kind of news."

"Have you heard of Mary, the Sky Witch?"

Isaiah shrugged. "Sure I have--but it's just a story, everyone knows it's not true."

"That's where you're wrong." Then Nick told him everything he knew about Mary. How she had kept hundreds of younger kids from finding the light, and leaving Everlost. How Nick had freed them himself, right under her nose ... and how she was now gathering more Afterlights to mother, to pamper, to trap. This time, however, he had reason to believe that Mary was building herself an army.

"Did you give them coins?" Isaiah asked. "Is that how you freed them?"

"You know about the coins?"

Isaiah nodded. "We all had them once, but lost them, or tossed them. Most of the kids here don't know what they're for, but some of us do." He became thoughtful for a moment. "I'd like to think we'll find them again. When we're truly ready to move on."

"Maybe there's a whole bucketful waiting for you." And that's all Nick said about it. Something told him that freeing the kids of Atlanta was best left for another day.