He recovered, then shot me a disgruntled look. “In a hurry?”
“You!” I snarled. We stood in a short alley between buildings, the traffic behind us a muted clamor.
The chronomancer squinted at me from behind his square glasses. “Do I know you?”
My hand itched to slug him in the jaw. “Your spell keeps dumping me in the wrong time. You said you’d get me home.”
He folded his arms, his expression unimpressed. “I told you not to interfere.”
“I haven’t!” I paused. “It wasn’t my fault.”
He raised his brows.
“We tried not to interfere, but we kept getting dropped into situations where it was impossible not to.”
He pushed his sleeve back and looked at one of the watches that climbed to his elbow. “Great, now we’re both running late.”
“Late for what?” I demanded.
He lowered his arm. “You did what you were supposed to do. Good job. Gold star. Pat yourself on the back. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m in a bit of a hurry.” He stepped around me and headed toward the street.
“Oh no, you don’t,” I growled, lunging forward and grabbing his arm.
He stopped, giving my hand on his arm a deliberate look.
“I’m sorry,” I said, releasing him. He was my only shot at finding Tavish and Albie. “It’s been a long three days. What do you mean I did what I was supposed to do?”
A shrill noise emanated from his pocket. “Oh, for the love…” he muttered, stuffing his hand inside. He pulled out a cheap-looking plastic timer like someone might use in their kitchen. He silenced the alarm, then shoved the timer back into his coat. “Look, I really need to get going. I don’t have time to?—”
“Then just tell me how to get home!” I cried. “I lost your spell bag on the last jump, and now I’m stuck.” All the heartache and frustration of the past three days rose up, and I flung up my hands as fresh tears burned my throat. “My father was right. I should have never gone near those stones.”
“And your women would have never been saved,” the chronomancer said.
I stilled. Because I must have heard him wrong. “What?” I breathed.
“I told you,” he said. “You were meant to accomplish certain tasks, and you did. You’re not a time traveler. You’re a Timekeeper.”
My blood pumped faster. “Timekeeper?”
“It’s a rare gift.” The chronomancer lowered his voice like he was sharing a secret. “It’s also a pain in the ass, but I havea feeling you already know that.” He sighed. “Gifts from gods usually are.”
I knew I was staring like an idiot. “So I’m…like you?”
“Hardly, and thank your lucky stars, all right?” He plucked at a loose thread on his jacket. “The gods don’t choose Timekeepers often, and for good reason. Time is a heavy burden.” He looked up. “We all think we want to know the future, but do we, really? I’m not so sure.”
“I don’t want this,” I said, uncertain if I spoke of the gift or knowledge of the future. Maybe both.
He shrugged. “It’s non-refundable, I’m afraid. Once the gods choose, that’s it. The stones called you. The longer you resisted, the stronger that call became. That said, we all have free will. Of course, exercising it brings consequences. If you had refused to answer the stones’ call, you would have eventually gone insane.”
“So you’re saying the godswantedme to enter the stones?”
“Andinterfere, as you call it.”
“But you told me not to,” I said, new frustration spiking. “In your cottage, you said?—”
“I remember.” Lowering his head, he tugged at the loose thread again. “If you know too much ahead of time, your free will can override the mission. So the gods prefer to keep you in the dark.” He met my gaze. “Makes it harder to fuck things up.”
I thought of every jump. Medieval England, where we’d saved Chloe’s ancestor from burning. Bucharest, where we’d killed Ludovic’s wife, possibly opening the door for him to take Halina’s mother as a thrall. The demon plane, where we’d watched Mullo sail toward the Oracle where he’d gather the elements he need to create the Curse.
