Finally, Portia pulled back and wiped her eyes. “Everything feels perfect,” she said. “But it’s not.”
Apprehension stirred in my gut. “What do you mean?”
“We still don’t know why we don’t have any females.” She looked between us. “Aside from me, every child born in the last twenty-three years has been male. The Curse is broken, but our population problem remains.”
The fire popped, sending embers flying onto the thick rug in front of the hearth. Instead of winking out, they glowed brighter, threatening to burn holes in the thick weave.
“I’ll get it,” I said, leaving the bed and crossing the chamber. I stomped out the glowing fragments, then started back toward the bed. I froze mid-step.
My clothes were piled on a chair by the window where I’d left them after the three of us showered. But the book sitting on top most definitely hadn’t been there before.
And I’d know it anywhere, its dark leather cover plain except for the red rune in the center.The Complete Guide to Chronomancers.I’d studied it obsessively when Tavish and I returned to our own time. More than once, Tavish had pried the book from my hands, insisting I needed sleep.
But I hadn’t brought it with me through the stones when Portia called us tonight.
My heart pumped faster as I went to the window and picked up the book.
“What is it?” Tavish asked, rising onto his elbow.
I ran my fingertips over the rune. “I didn’t have this with me when we got pulled through the stones.” Disquiet settled over me.
“That’s your chronomancer book,” Tavish said grimly.
“Aye,” I rasped. The book had followed me. I flipped it open, and gray dust sifted from the pages and spilled to the carpet. A faint ticking sound filled the air.
Tavish was on his feet in a flash, his expression dark. “Fucking clocks again.”
Portia slipped from bed, wariness huddling around her. She stared at the book like she worried it would bite me. “The chronomancer said I only had to make one more jump. The gods should be finished with me now.”
The noise grew louder, the rhythmictick-tocksforming a jarring, disjointed symphony. I flipped another page, and more dust fell to the floor. In all the years I’d owned the book, it had never produced dust.
Tavish wrapped an arm around Portia, who stared at me with stark eyes. “What should I do?” she asked.
I set the book on the chair and went to her. “Not you,” I said, touching her jaw. “Us. That’s the difference this time, lass. You’re not alone. We’re one, all three of us.”
Tavish nodded. “Whatever the gods have planned, we’ll face it together.”
The ticking grew louder, filling the chamber. I looked at the book over my shoulder. Moonlight from the window illuminated the pile of gray powder.
Not dust, I realized. Stone dust. From the auld stones.
“We have to get to the stones,” I said.
Portia made a strangled sound. “Now?”
I turned back to her. “We go where it all started. Back to the beginning.”
“Fuck,” Tavish muttered.
Portia looked like she might be sick. “Are you certain?”
I wasn’t at all certain. But centuries of study had taught me to look for patterns. “The auld stones are the one thing that connects everything,” I said. “The book. The chronomancer. You.” I took her hand. “The stones pulled you to them before. Maybe they’re pulling you again now.”
“Pulling all of us,” Tavish corrected, his expression grim but resolved.
I nodded. “Aye. All of us.”
Portia drew a shaky breath. “Okay. Then we have to tell my?—”
