3

The Fantastical Railroad

Hattie was crossing the lobby when Mrs. G found her.

“Good gracious! I’ve been looking all over the hotel for you!” The housekeeper seized her arm, turning her around. “Come with me.”

Hattie glanced over her shoulder. “But I was going down to the barn to help Dowson with Betsy!”

Betsy was one of the park’s trigers, with striped fur and three enormous heads. She’d gotten a thorn stuck in her paw, and the gamekeeper had invited Hattie to watch him remove it. She felt at home in the barn, with its cages, feed sacks, and dusty floor. There was something comforting about it. She still had dim, hazy memories of when she’d lived there with her father, in a cozy little room on the second floor. And Dowson didn’t mind when she hung around. He always said she had a way with the animals.

“There’s been a change of plans.” Mrs. G dragged Hattie across the lobby. The wilderness tour was about to depart, and there were people everywhere. “I must talk to you in my office.”

Hattie’s nerves skittered. Had she done something wrong? She racked her brain, trying to think. What if someone had seen her talking to that reporter?

“Quickly, quickly!” Mrs. G whisked her inside the office, gesturing to the lone wooden chair facing the desk. “Now sit, girl.”

Hattie eyed the chair nervously. All the maids were scared of it. It was where Mrs. G made you sit when she was telling you off for getting into mischief or sleeping too late.

“Mrs. Galliforma,” she began, “I swear I didn’t tell him anything—”

“You’re not in trouble, girl! Just sit!”

So it wasn’t about the reporter, then. Hattie obeyed, tucking her booted ankles under the chair. Why was Mrs. G acting so mysteriously? What was going on?

The housekeeper folded her hands on the desk. “Mr. Ridgewell’s niece will be departing shortly on the weeklong wilderness tour. I’ve decided you will accompany her.”

Hattie blinked. “What—me?” she spluttered. “What for?”

With a faint pop, Jeffers appeared on the desk. “Gracious!” Mrs. G shrieked, clutching her chest. “My heart! I shall need a nerve tonic.”

“Oh, Jeffers! Don’t scare people.” Hattie held out her arm, but the lemur ignored it. He popped onto the bookcase, where he started to happily sniff around.

Mrs. G turned back to Hattie. “Miss Ridgewell’s chaperone has unfortunately fallen ill, and now the young lady needs a maid. The girls tell me you’re good at fixing hair. And I know you’ve been eager to help out more.”

“Wait—fallen ill?” Hattie hesitated, remembering the powder she’d seen Evelyn Ridgewell put in her chaperone’s tea. “She’s not—dead—is she?”

Mrs. G stared at her. “Don’t be daft, girl. Why in the world would she be dead? She only has an upset stomach. The doctor says it’s nothing to worry about, but she’s too sick to go on the tour.”

Well, that was a relief. A knot unclenched itself in Hattie’s chest. If something had been wrong—really wrong—with her, it would be partly her fault for not tattling. She was glad the woman was all right. Don’t be too glad, a small voice inside her whispered. That girl poisoned her because she didn’t want a chaperone. What makes you think she won’t do the same thing to you?

“I hadn’t meant for you to enter service for another year or two,” Mrs. G went on. “But the hotel is full, and you’re the only one I can spare.” Her gaze softened. “And who knows? This girl Evelyn is the same age as you. Perhaps you’ll get along well with her. It could be an excellent connection for you.”

Hattie’s heart sank. From what she’d seen of Evelyn so far, she doubted they would get along. “A—a connection?”

“As you get older, you will find that many things in life depend on who you know,” Mrs. G said. “You may want to leave Majestica someday, and it would be good to have a reference.”

“I’ll never want to leave Majestica!” Hattie protested.

“You might change your mind.” Mrs. G sighed. “Oh, Hattie. Your father and I were friends, and I promised him I’d look after you if anything happened to him. I’ve done my best.” She snapped her fingers, and a worn carpetbag flew into Hattie’s lap. “Listen to me getting all sentimental! We must get you packed.”

In a daze, Hattie followed her up the creaky wooden stairs into the part of the hotel the guests never got to see. There was no gold-swirled wallpaper or marble tile here. It was just a long corridor lined with neatly labeled doors. Squeals of laughter and phonograph music spilled out of the maids’ dormitory at the end of the hall. Mrs. G twisted her lip. The off-duty staff were supposed to be neither seen nor heard.

Hattie had her own room next door to the housekeeper’s. It had once been a storage closet, so it was barely wide enough to fit a bed. But it did have a window, where Hattie had propped several jars. One was a potted lantern palm that Morsewood, the gardener, had given her, which lit up after dark. The other jars contained various beetles. Jeffers hopped onto the bed and began amusing himself by chasing his tail.

“Hattie Swift!” Mrs. G screeched, glaring at the beetles. “You must stop accumulating creatures! I said one pet!”

“But I’m trying to hatch them into water butterflies—it’s an experiment—”

“Ugh! Bugs! What’s next?” Mrs. G jerked open the dresser and began pulling out stockings and petticoats. “You spend too much time with Dowson. He encourages you. Now, put one of those uniforms on.”

Hattie tore her eyes away from the jars. She had just fed the beetles this morning. They would be all right for a week. They didn’t eat a lot.

“Uniforms?” she echoed. Things were moving at an overwhelming pace.

“In the bag, girl!” Mrs. G snatched the carpetbag from Hattie’s frozen hands, rummaging through it. “You’re tall for your age, so I hope they fit you.”

Hattie stared up at her. “You mean…real maid’s uniforms?”

“Of course! You are representing this hotel. You must have the proper uniform.” She pushed a black dress and white apron into Hattie’s hands. “Now get changed.”

“But—”

“I’m surprised at you, Hattie. Just this morning, you were asking me to give you more duties. And I thought you’d be excited to see the rest of the park. It’s a wonderful opportunity. Think of the creatures you’ll get to meet!”

Hattie had always wanted to go into the wilderness. Dowson had taken her on the overnight tour once, but it only went a little way into the savannah and then looped back. This tour was the crown jewel of Majestica. It would be gone a whole week, winding through the jungle and around the mountain where Agatha lived. With shaking fingers, Hattie buttoned the black dress. It was slightly too big, and the top billowed out over the waistband. Her cheeks grew hot. The dress was made for someone with, well, a chest. She rolled up the cuffs and tied the white ruffled apron over it.

“Not bad,” Mrs. G said approvingly. “Not bad at all.” Licking her fingers, the housekeeper brushed away a smudge of dust on Hattie’s cheek. “Still, I wish we had time to clean you up a bit. This is your chance to really impress Mr. Ridgewell.”

“Oh, Hattie!” Maude came rushing in without knocking. “I’m glad I caught you!” Spotting Mrs. G, she immediately halted and dropped a curtsy. “I heard you were going on the wilderness tour!”

“How do you know that?” Mrs. G demanded.

“Oh! Well, Violet overheard Mr. Ridgewell, and then Violet told Anna and Anna told me…anyway, here!” Maude pulled a bundle of white fabric from her apron pocket. “I’m going to lend you my lucky cap.”

Mrs. G pursed her lips. Hattie knew she did not approve of gossip. With deft fingers, Maude set the cap on Hattie’s hair and pinned it in place.

“There! You look perfect!”

“But this is your favorite!” Hattie protested. Maude had sewed the lace on herself.

Maude adjusted the cap. “I’m sure you’ll take good care of it.”

“Maids aren’t supposed to make alterations to the uniform,” Mrs. G grumbled, eyeing the lace trim. But she didn’t make Hattie take the cap off. Instead, she gave her a satisfied nod. “You’re ready.”

A train whistle blared outside the window.

Mrs. G glanced at her pocket watch. “Goodness, we must go! The train’s about to leave.”

Like a whirlwind of aprons, the housekeeper swept her downstairs and into the lobby. Hattie barely had time to say goodbye to Maude. Jeffers scampered after them, his tail sticking up like a flag.

“Mrs. G, wait!” Hattie squeaked, clutching the carpet-bag. “I have to tell you something. It’s important.” She took a deep breath. “I think Evelyn Ridgewell poisoned her chaperone.”

To her surprise, Mrs. G let out a laugh. “Nonsense!”

“It’s true—I saw her! At the breakfast table, while I was gathering the table linens.”

“You’re letting your imagination run away with you,” the housekeeper said sternly. “It’s just nerves. Now hurry up, girl! The train won’t wait.”

Hattie skidded across the lobby, trying not to bump into any of the guests. She couldn’t shake the feeling of utter strangeness. The floor was the same black-and-white checkered tile it had always been. The dragon skull still peered down from above. But somehow everything had shifted, as if she’d crossed an invisible border into a foreign land.

Before Hattie could protest any more, Mrs. G shoved her through the glass doors and onto the grand steps of the hotel. They joined the line of passengers waiting to board the train. The red cars gleamed in the sunshine while hotel porters scurried around, loading the last of the luggage. A fancy gold M was painted on the engine car. Underneath it, gold script read:

Ridgewell’s Fantastical Railroad

~World Famous~

Mrs. G wasn’t looking at the train. She was looking at Hattie.

“Seeing you in that uniform…” Her voice was suddenly wistful. “I hope I’m doing the right thing. Maybe you are too young.”

“I can do it.” Hattie tried to sound more confident than she felt. “This is what I’ve always wanted. I—I was just surprised, that’s all.”

Mrs. G set her hands on Hattie’s shoulders. “We’ll call it a trial run. Perhaps you’ll decide you don’t want to be in service after all. We could ask Mr. Ridgewell to send you to school in Basillica City…”

Hattie’s heart leaped. The last thing she wanted was to be sent away. “No! I want to stay here. At Majestica. With you.”

“Ah, Hattie!” Mrs. G gave her a fond smile. “You’ve always been such a good little helper to me.”

“I’m not little anymore.” Hattie straightened, trying to make herself taller. “I’ll look after Miss Ridgewell. You can count on me.”

A man brushed by them. His round face was speckled with sun spots from working outdoors, and his reddish beard had bits of hay stuck in it. A duffel bag was slung over his shoulder.

“Tarnation!” he muttered distractedly. “I told him not to come here. This is a disaster.”

Dowson? But he was supposed to be at the barn. Why was he getting on the train? Who had he told not to come? Hattie couldn’t even guess. There were too many people on the platform. Before she could get his attention, Dowson jumped up the steps into the first car. He had not seen her.

A shrill steam whistle sounded. “All aboard!” yelled the conductor.

“What on earth are you gaping at, Hattie?” Mrs. G demanded. “Shift yourself and get on that train!”

Hattie’s shoulders jumped. Gripping the door handle, she swung herself up just in time. With a lurch, the train started slowly clacking along the tracks. Glancing back, she watched Mrs. G glide out of sight.

Hattie climbed the train steps, squeezing the handle of her carpetbag. Everything had happened so suddenly. Sensing that she was upset, Jeffers bundled himself into the crook of her neck.

“Ah! Here she is!”

Mr. Ridgewell sat in the first row, smiling at Hattie. He was on the left side of the aisle, and Evelyn was on the right. They each had two seats to themselves. All the other seats in the car were taken, and the overhead luggage racks were stuffed with bags.

Mr. Ridgewell tapped his niece on the shoulder. “You remember Hattie Swift, don’t you?” he said. “From breakfast? I’ve engaged her as a companion for you, since poor Mrs. Hawkins wasn’t able to come.”

Evelyn’s mouth dropped open. “You,” she gasped, glaring at Hattie. “Uncle Clive, no!” She raised her voice, causing people’s heads to turn. “I don’t want a companion!”

Hattie’s face grew hot with embarrassment. Mrs. G always said a maid should never be noticed, but all the passengers were staring. Surely Evelyn was not about to throw a tantrum. She was too old for that…wasn’t she?

“My dear, it’s too late now.” Mr. Ridgewell chuckled. “The girl is already here. I thought you would like having someone to…ah, do your hair…and, you know, talk about girl things…”

He trailed off. Hattie had never seen him look so uncertain. He was good at running a hotel, but he clearly knew nothing about girls.

“I don’t want her,” Evelyn said nastily. “Get rid of her.”

“Well, we can’t throw her off a moving train, can we?”

Hattie suspected that was exactly what Evelyn wanted to do. She stood in the aisle, feeling the humiliating tickle of everyone’s eyes on her. The train hit a bump, and she almost dropped the carpetbag.

Evelyn gave her uncle a sour look. She had clearly not expected to share her row with anyone. She made a big show of shifting over to the window seat, acting like it was terribly difficult to move her hat and parasol.

Before Hattie could sit, someone jostled her from behind.

“Sorry!” It was Mr. Foxfire, the handsome reporter. He was out of breath. “Whew! Barely made the train.”

“What are you doing here?” Mr. Ridgewell demanded irritably.

Foxfire flashed a charming smile. “Couldn’t miss a chance to see the, ah, world-famous creatures in their natural habitats, could I? Sorry, Miss Swift.” Pushing past her, he made his way down the aisle.

Hattie dropped into the seat beside Evelyn, who ignored her. So much for making connections. She had tried to tell Mrs. G this wouldn’t work. Why did grown-ups always think just because you were the same age as another girl, you would magically be best friends?

When she was little, she used to play with the guests’ children, splashing in the pool and running around the gardens. But the older she got, the more awkward it became. They were here on holiday, while Hattie had chores to do. It had been a long time since she talked with someone her own age.

What could she possibly have in common with Evelyn Ridgewell, a girl who had everything?

She looked over Evelyn’s head out the window. The hotel was already out of sight. In the distance, a stumpy brown figure lumbered through the grass. Hattie gasped. A minotaur! She’d already spotted her first wild creature.

“Next stop, Wyvern Rock!” one of the train staff called out.

For the first time in her life, Hattie would get to see a wyvern in its natural habitat. She grinned, the breeze ruffling her white cap. She did want to see the creatures. But her smile faded when she realized Evelyn was glaring daggers at her.

If she doesn’t poison me first.