The letter found Bob aboard the Train to Elsewhere.
It lay on the seat beside him, although he had not seen anyone enter the carriage. His name appeared on the envelope without greeting, explanation, or apology.
Bob broke the seal.
Bob,
You are being sent on a delicate mission. Wit alone will not be enough. You must learn the board.
Chess is silence in motion, foresight given form. Come to the Enchanted Forest. The table is set.
Do not delay.
Lady Marmalade
Bob flicked his tail sharply.
“Not even a dear Bob. Just Bob.”
He sniffed at the letter, half expecting it to smell of roses or wine. It didn’t, only parchment and inevitability.
“Silence in motion, she says. Sounds like boredom with extra steps.”
He stretched, yawned, then narrowed his ember eyes.
“But a delicate mission, hm? And a chessboard waiting? Well, I’ve been called worse than a pawn.”
He tucked the letter beneath his paw, a smirk curling beneath his whiskers.
“Fine then, Lady Marmalade. If you insist on silence, I’ll bring the noise, and we’ll see who moves first.”
Bob made his way to the Conductor’s timetable, the great folded parchment of rails and hours that most passengers never dared to touch. The stations shimmered faintly on the page, written not only as destinations but as riddles:
Violet Hour: Two Stops Past Silence.
Enchanted Forest: Arrival on Whim and Memory.
His whiskers twitched. Yes, that was the one.
He folded the timetable back into place as if it had never been touched, then padded toward the end of the car. Outside, the world leaned into dusk. Beyond the window, the outline of the Enchanted Forest began to breathe in violet light.
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