Sage isn't happy about the kiss, I can tell, but I ignore him as we pull into the next town and hunt down a train station. It's easy enough to find. And this time, I go to the ticket booth and buy tickets.

The smiling attendant gestures at the map before me. "Where to?" Her Austrian is crisp and aristocratic.

I answer in English, my American accent firmly in place. "Spain," I say.

"By way of Wilhelm," Sage cuts in. ...