by Lanie Bross
Luckily, he didn’t ask questions. “Follow me,” he whispered.
She couldn’t stop the slight tremble in her limbs when his breath washed over her ear.
Ford stood up, keeping his hand wrapped around hers. It made her feel slightly better. They inched toward the doorway that led to the main room, sticking close to the wall, moving in complete silence. Jasmine was extra careful about where she placed her feet.
They flattened themselves against the wall next to the doorway. Ford peeked around the corner, then made a complicated gesture to Jasmine with his hands.
In the other room, the boy said, “Are you sure this was the place?”
“I’m sure,” the girl answered.
“Real craphole,” the boy said.
“Just find her.”
Ford bent down and picked up a piece of copper pipe that had become dislodged during the earthquake. Jasmine thought he must be arming himself for a fight, and her throat seized up. She’d never hit anyone, never gotten violent at all except in some stupid self-defense program she’d taken instead of gym class freshman year.
But then Ford tossed the pipe so it landed with a clatter in the far corner of the bedroom, and Jas understood. As the boy and girl came rushing into the room, their attention fixed on the other side of the room, Ford and Jasmine moved. They made it only two steps into the main room before the stalkers pivoted, shouting, and leapt after them.
But a two-foot advantage was better than nothing, and Jasmine was fast now.
Unfortunately, they were fast, too. The girl’s fingertips grazed Jasmine’s hair as she reached the staircase. Jas twisted her head away and the girl growled in frustration. Ford was taking the steps two at a time, and Jasmine sprang after him.
Jasmine’s heart was bursting through her throat.
Once they were outside, Jas would scream for help. Once they were outside, they’d be okay.…
Just a few more steps …
Then Jasmine felt a hand wrap around her ankle. She fell hard and fast, slamming headfirst into the concrete lip at the top of the staircase. Pain spiked out at the impact, and stars danced in her vision. She tried to cry out, but shadows were advancing along the edges of her vision too quickly.
“Wait!” Ford called out, and she felt the electric brush of his fingers against hers before they were wrenched away.
Help me. That was the last thought she had before everything went black.
This time, Luc was able to keep his footing in the Crossroad, but barely. It was like trying to stay afloat in a river flowing simultaneously in different directions, or trying to score a goal from inside a tornado. He fought to keep control over his body. Openings, vivid and multicolored, bloomed like huge flowers on either side of him. He knew they must have been openings into different worlds.
Panic overtook him. The universe was much too big to contemplate, and there were hundreds of thousands of worlds. What if he ended up in the Forest of the Blood Nymphs? Or somewhere even deadlier?
Thinking that made him think about Jasmine, waiting for him at Aunt Hillary’s house. The great flower had brought her back from death after the Blood Nymphs had nearly killed her, but it hadn’t cured her entirely. She was different now. The way she’d fought off the Executors proved it.
He wondered how long it would be before she noticed the change.
He wondered if she was safe, and if she was worried about him.
Luc tried to fight his way to an exit, any exit, but it was no use. The winds were too strong. He staggered on, borne forward like a piece of driftwood at sea. All around him, shimmering colors twisted together to form new colors, a continuously changing canvas that was both breathtaking and terrifying. He found himself driven forward by a strong current the color of Corinthe’s eyes.
Corinthe.
Even her name brought a fresh wash of pain. This was all for her. He couldn’t forget that. If he didn’t do everything in his power to find a way to alter time, he would be lost. Rhys had known how, but his friend was gone.
Another life lost.
He wished the chemist was there now, to guide him, to tell him what to do.
The swirling colors ebbed, slowly, to a thick gray mist, and Luc knew he was washing up onto the shore of a new world. Outside the Crossroad, the air was much colder. A sudden chill overcame Luc. He shivered and rubbed his arms for warmth. Maybe he had gone back to the world of possibilities? But no. It was too cold.
His teeth chattered. He jogged in place, trying to stay warm. A mountain rose in the distance, tall and capped with snow. Icy air swept down from its peak, bathing everything in subzero temperatures. Luc could feel it deep in his bones. It was worse, far worse, than the Land of the Two Suns at night.
He needed to find shelter before he froze to death.
Up ahead, Luc saw a small grove of trees, which would at least provide protection from the wind. He needed somewhere he could sit and look over Rhys’s book. He trudged through the snow toward the woods. His sneakers were little protection against the cold and the wet.
He pulled his hood up and over his head and drove his hands into his pockets. In the silence of this new world, Luc’s muffled footsteps seemed to echo off the mountain itself. Other than the trees, he saw nothing alive, nothing growing—nothing but snow and ice.
Finally, he reached the trees and stepped between two medium-sized trunks. Their boughs were covered in heavy snow and, burdened by the extra weight, drooped toward the ground. But it was slightly warmer away from the wind.
Luc slid his backpack from his shoulders and set it down in the snow. While Jasmine had showered, Luc had grabbed an old army surplus backpack and thrown in a pair of thick gloves, a new lighter, and five protein bars.
The last time he traveled the Crossroad, he’d been unprepared. Not this time.
Unfortunately, the lighter would be of no use. There was nothing dry to burn. He wrestled on the gloves, still shivering, and pulled out the book he’d taken from Tess in the library.
Rhys’s book. Rhys’s life.
Luc sat down on his backpack and leaned against one of the tree trunks. A dull ache throbbed inside his chest, and he closed his eyes, imagining Rhys was there with him as he read the words.
There is a coldness inside me that I can’t fight off.
I’ve been cast out. Exiled. I knew the risks when I embarked on this course. I thought it was worth it. What is life without love? But now, I fear that the sacrifice might have been for nothing. There is a vast nothingness inside me. Who am I if not a Radical?
Luc closed the book and the voice fell abruptly into silence. The longing, the pain in Rhys’s voice was too much. Rhys spoke about cold—was that why Luc had been driven to this freezing world? Had Rhys’s book somehow guided him here, to this vast and empty place?
What is life without love? A good question. Luc thought of the bittersweet kiss he and Corinthe had shared, their first and last. How her eyes had lit up like two suns. How finally, at last, he’d felt a sense of belonging.
Failure was not an option. A popular mantra that Coach had them repeat before every game.
Luc flipped through the pages, hoping there was something about the tunnels of time, about how to go back.
Time does not move forward. It moves in different directions and can be created, manipulated, and altered. A single change can ripple across the whole universe, generating change in every world.
It is power like nothing I’ve ever felt. I’ve succeeded where even the Unseen Ones have no control.
Controlling these combinations however, is next to impossible. I did it, but it cost dearly. I am only a shadow now, cast out, weak.
My love lives on, but each day I grow weaker, closer to death.
Luc swallowed against the wedge of emotion lodged in his throat. Rhys had seemed happy when they met, sailing the Ocean of Shadows, tending to the needs of the Figments—but it had been only a mask.
Did everyone have secrets? Luc wondered. Corinthe h
ad hidden behind an idea of Fate. His mom had hidden within the comfort that drugs could give her. His father had chosen the bottle.
Luc flipped through the pages. He knew that going back in time was possible—the book proved that Rhys had done it—but it didn’t say how.
Blank pages rustled in the quiet, but Rhys’s voice had stopped speaking.
“Come on,” Luc muttered.
“That doesn’t belong to you.”
The voice came out of nowhere. For a split second, Luc thought the book had spoken in a voice that was not Rhys’s. Then Tess moved out of the shadows, becoming solid as she approached him. He could tell she was tired. Her form seemed more fluid than it had earlier, as if she couldn’t bother to keep it together.
But her eyes were dark. Wild. Urgent. Wounded, too. Maybe she’d been hurt in the fight with whatever those things were—those shadow figures who’d attacked in the library.
“It’s not yours, either.” Luc slowly pushed to his feet, never taking his eyes off Tess. He shut the book and tucked it under his arm. Wind howled through the trees, picking up snow and swirling it around them. It was as if Tess’s presence had attracted the wind.
“It’s mine more than anyone’s,” Tess said. “Rhys gave me life. His energy created me, and now that energy is all that’s left of him and it’s in that book. I want it back.”
Now Luc understood the wounded look. She was grieving, like he was. “If you’d just help me, I wouldn’t need it,” he said. His breath condensed in the air. Slowly, he tucked the book back into his backpack and zipped it closed. The only way she’d get the book was by agreeing to help him or taking it by force. Tess watched him like a predator, her muscles tense like she was waiting for him to try to escape. Like she would pounce and tear him to shreds at the slightest movement.
But she didn’t move. She only said, “I can’t help you, because you don’t understand what you’re trying to do. This isn’t a game. Time is not a toy to be played with. By changing one small thing, it could ripple outward and disrupt the universe. Are you willing to take that chance? And what do you think will happen to your world? The safety of everyone you know would be gone, because you think you’re in love.”
“I am in love,” Luc corrected her. “And yes, it’s worth the risk. I’m not scared.” Luc hoped he was doing a good job of bluffing. He was deathly afraid. But he wouldn’t screw up. Failure was not an option. He would bring the universe back, restore it to what it had been before Corinthe died, in balance and intact.
Everyone wins.
Tess shook her head as if she could read his thoughts. “She was fated to die. She accepted it, so why can’t you?”
“Fate isn’t everything,” Luc said. “You’re a Radical. You should know that better than me.” Luc was quiet for a second, fighting for the right words. “I made her a promise. I have to keep it.”
Tess sighed. For a second, she looked so tired, he almost felt bad for her.
Almost.
“I’m sorry,” Tess said. “Your journey must end here.”
She moved across the small clearing, her movements graceful but slow. Did the cold affect her, too? After all, he had learned from Rhys that a Radical was born in the fiery explosion of a star.
Luc twisted sharply to one side, then ducked between the trees and began to run.
He risked a glance over his shoulder. She was almost on top of him again. Shit. She was too fast. Just as she reached for him, he faked left, then spun off to the right. Tess grunted in frustration and he took off again, cold burning his lungs, blood pounding in his head.
The mountain was closer than it looked, and all too soon he was approaching a wall of rock. Should he try to climb? A few feet ahead of him, he spotted a small overhang, like the entrance to a cave. Maybe he could take shelter there and fend her off—but no, then he’d be trapped. Before he could make a decision, Tess slammed into his back, sending them both sprawling into the snow. He felt her grab for his backpack and used the last of his strength to buck her off, sending her toppling over onto her back.
She was on her feet immediately, but so was he.
They squared off, neither giving an inch.
“Give me the book and I won’t hurt you,” Tess said.
Luc wiped his mouth and his hand came away red. A rock must have cut his face. He was too cold to feel it. There was nowhere to run. The slope behind him was steep and covered with heavy snow. He’d never be able to outrun her.
“I won’t.”
“I’m giving you one last chance—” Tess said, but the rest of her words were drowned out by a dull roaring, like an ocean crashing on a beach. She stiffened; a look of terror passed over her face.
Luc turned around. A hundred feet above them, an enormous sheet of snow was breaking free from the mountain. With a tremendous crack, it raced toward them, a surging wave of snow, devouring everything in its path, snapping whole trees as if they were matchsticks.
The earth shook like no earthquake Luc has ever experienced. The sound was deafening.
Luc made a split-second decision. The overhang, and the small cave, was his only hope.
He dove forward, throwing himself into the small gap underneath the overhang. The cave was shallow but wide, plenty big enough for two people.
“Take my hand!” he shouted at Tess. But she didn’t move. She was frozen, her mouth open.
Snow began pouring over the ledge, rapidly blocking his vision. Luc protected his head. Thunder exploded around him. This had to be what the inside of hell sounded like. It went on for only half a minute, but it felt like hours before the ground stopped shaking and the air grew silent once again.
A thick layer of snow had piled in front of the ledge, leaving only a small gap through which Luc could see the sky. But it was enough. The stone ledge had kept him from being buried completely. He punched through the snow with his elbows until the opening was large enough to accommodate him, secured the backpack, then slithered out of the cave on his stomach.
Tess had disappeared.
“Tess?” Luc shouted. His voice echoed across the vast landscape. He trudged a little farther up the slope, then turned around, shielding his eyes, to see if he could spot her. But there was nothing but white.
Had she been buried alive? Even though she’d been trying to steal Rhys’s book, and probably would have killed him to get it, the idea made him feel queasy.
The entire upper quarter of the mountain had come off during the avalanche, just sloughed away. Instead of a peak, there was now a crater, open to the sky like a vast wound.
So. Not a mountain. A volcano.
Steam hissed from the opening at the top, unlike anything he’d ever seen. Colors, almost like those of the aurora borealis, twinkled above the crater. Could it be the opening to the Crossroad?
After taking one last look for Tess, Luc started trudging through the snow toward the summit. It wasn’t more than a football field’s length to the top, but his sneakers sank into the heavy drifts of snow, making each step difficult, and biting wind whipped down the slope, making it hard to take a breath. The wind battered his body, as if it were a conscious force, as if it were trying to prevent him from reaching the top. He forced himself to keep going, even though he could no longer feel his fingers and his ears ached from the cold. He refused to die in this bleak, lifeless world.
Near the summit, the wind changed. Warm, humid air rolled up from the crater, creating waves of white steam that hissed as they cooled and condensed abruptly into more snow.
Luc pushed the hood off his head. In front of him, colors swirled and danced in the steam. He ventured closer to the crater’s edge, and saw that the colors emerged from a wide gap at the bottom of the depression. They looked stuck, almost, like streamers bound to something solid.
Could he be looking at some kind of tear in the Crossroad, maybe caused by the avalanche? It was as if the gap had created a path into the Crossroad where no path was supposed to be. But the crater was deep, an
d he didn’t know whether he could safely climb down its steep ledge and make it to the opening. Even if he could, he didn’t know if he would fit.
He remembered, suddenly, the first time he had ever ventured into the Crossroad. He’d been standing at the edge of a roof, terrified. Corinthe had been threatening him with a knife. Even then, she’d been the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. It seemed like an entire lifetime ago.
He was going to have to jump again—straight into the colors flashing toward the sky. He checked the straps of his backpack, then backed up several feet from the rim. He took a deep breath and felt the air burn his lungs. Now.
He started sprinting. But just before he sprang from the edge, his foot broke through a layer of ice and he tripped. Momentum propelled him forward. He slid over the edge of the crater and plummeted.
Instinctively, Luc covered his head and braced for impact. Except there was none. At the moment of collision, Luc simply passed through the ground as if it were no more than air.
He fell into a vast nothingness where wind howled and voices whispered, yet he couldn’t feel his own limbs. When he tried to move his arms, there was a disconnect between his mind and his body. He existed, but not in this reality.
A sound began, whether in his mind or somewhere around him, he couldn’t be sure. It shook the air, shook him all the way to the bone. Wind came up out of nowhere, and he was sucked into a vacuum that felt like it was tearing him apart.
It was the same as when he and Corinthe crossed through worlds: the unbearable howling winds, the relentless tearing at his body until he thought he would shatter. But under it all was the sense of familiarity. If he could make it through, there was something at the end of the pain.
Just when he thought he’d be ripped from limb to limb he was thrown into the Crossroad. Colors spun around him, twisting upward like a tornado, leaving him standing on trembling legs.
Luc regained solid footing. He stood. The voices, usually so loud, seemed like faint whispers now. He wondered, briefly, whether this meant he was getting less human. Mortals weren’t supposed to wander the Crossroad.