The Midnight Dragon Railway Station – The Train That Arrived at Thirteen Stationmaster

More about The Midnight Dragon Railway Station – The Train That Arrived at Thirteen Stationmaster

The Midnight Dragon Railway Station – The Train That Arrived at Thirteen Stationmaster
Archibald Copperclock had managed the Midnight Dragon Railway Station for 147 years and had never permitted a train to arrive late. Unfortunately, his passengers included dragons, goblins, wizards, and occasionally mountains that had decided to travel. At eleven fifty-eight, Archibald stood beneath the great clock, examining his golden pocket watch. Platform One was crowded. A red dragon waited beside a mountain of luggage, three goblins argued over a suitcase, and a small green dragon slept on a bench, snoring smoke. Everything was perfectly normal. Then Archibald's watch struck thirteen. “Impossible.” Its hands stopped at twelve, moved backward, and revealed a thirteenth numeral. The lanterns flickered. Brass letters rearranged themselves on the departure board. PLATFORM ZERO — ARRIVAL 00:13 — PASSENGERS UNKNOWN. Archibald's beard stiffened. Platform Zero had been closed for three hundred years. “Mr Copperclock?” A goblin porter named Tumble approached beneath a suitcase twice his size. “The board is making unpleasant noises.” “Departure boards do not make unpleasant noises.” A metallic groan shook the station. Archibald snapped his watch shut. “Fetch the oldest station ledger. And nobody mentions Platform Zero.” Archibald hurried toward his office. As he passed the sleeping green dragon, it opened one golden eye. “Thirteen,” it whispered. Archibald halted. “What?” “Too late to stop it now.” Inside the office, Tumble dragged out a dusty ledger. One entry remained. MIDNIGHT EXPRESS 013 — DEPARTED 00:00 — DESTINATION: TOMORROW — ARRIVAL: NEVER. Below it, in red ink: DO NOT WAIT. “That sounds encouraging,” Tumble muttered. The station clock began striking midnight. At twelve, the lamps went dark. Then came a thirteenth chime. Every dragon on Platform One raised its head. Between Platforms One and Two, a staircase appeared, descending into darkness beneath a tarnished sign: PLATFORM ZERO. “I ordered those stairs demolished,” Archibald said. “Perhaps they disagreed,” Tumble suggested. The little green dragon approached. “Don't go down there.” “And who are you?” “Ember.” “Ticket?” “Lost it.” “Then you have no business here.” “I've been waiting three hundred years.” Archibald stared at his tiny wings. “You look like a hatchling.” “Time doesn't pass properly when your train never arrives.” Ember glanced at the staircase. “The Midnight Express took my mother away. She promised to return before sunrise.” Archibald softened. “And she never did?” “Not yet.” A distant whistle sounded beneath their feet. Archibald opened his watch. 00:07. “Six minutes until arrival,” he said. “We shall inspect the platform.” “We?” Tumble squeaked. They descended. Platform Zero lay under the station, lit by silver lamps that cast no shadows. Its tracks entered a tunnel full of stars. Forgotten luggage stood beneath a thirteen-numbered clock. At the ticket booth sat a skeleton in a railway cap. “He's dead!” cried Tumble. The skeleton looked up. “Only between shifts.” Archibald straightened his uniform. “Stationmaster Copperclock. Explain yourself.” “Inspector Mortimer. I've been expecting you.” Ember rushed forward. “Where is my mother?” Mortimer's jaw clicked. “Approaching, if the timetable permits.” “Why didn't the train return?” Mortimer unfolded a yellow document. “Because someone cancelled tomorrow.” Mortimer pointed to an old map. “Three centuries ago, the Midnight Express was carrying passengers into the first morning of a new century. Its conductor learned that a mountain would collapse onto Dragon Valley. Thousands would die. She refused to deliver anyone into that future.” “My mother was the conductor,” Ember whispered. Mortimer nodded. “She stopped the destination itself. The train became trapped between yesterday's final minute and tomorrow's first.” “For three hundred years?” Tumble asked. “Outside the train. Inside, only thirteen minutes.” Ember's eyes shone. “Then she's alive?” “If the train reaches us.” Archibald checked his watch. 00:11. “How do we bring it home?” “A train needs a destination. Tomorrow was cancelled, so someone must authorise another.” Mortimer offered him a blank arrival form. DESTINATION REQUIRED. The star-filled tunnel brightened. A whistle sounded. 00:12. “And the disaster?” Archibald demanded. “Did cancelling tomorrow save the valley?” Mortimer nodded. “The conductor's warning travelled backward through the rails. The mountain collapsed three hundred years ago, but the inhabitants escaped.” “Then she succeeded!” “She never received confirmation. She still believes the disaster is ahead.” Ember lowered his head. “She saved everyone, but nobody told her.” Archibald uncapped his pen. “Destination: Midnight Dragon Railway Station.