The Shadow Crosser (The Storm Runner 3)

“No demons yet. The magic is holding for now.”

“Why don’t you sound worried?” Alana asked. “Like before?”

“Oh, let me explain,” he said. “I am a segment of Itzamna’s consciousness—not the god in his glorious totality. Do you understand?”

“Uh-huh,” I muttered. The gods were pros at splitting themselves into pieces so they could be in more than one place at a time. It was pretty weird. But we didn’t have time for chitchat. “What should we do next?” I asked, wondering if I was going to have to look at his floating face for the entire quest.

“How should I know?”

I was about to argue that he was an all-seeing god when Ren’s left arm jerked up over her head in a spastic sort of way.

“Do you have a question?” Louie asked. “Like, how do I make it snow?”

“I didn’t raise my hand,” Ren said, her eyes wide as her arm continued to waggle over her head like she was a marionette whose strings had been pulled. A bright light pulsed from the watch on her left wrist as a single strand of gold, no longer than four inches, peeled away from the band and hovered in midair.

“Uh, Ren?” I said, staring at the suspended strand.

She followed my gaze and gasped, struggling in vain to bring her arm back to her side. “It’s a piece of the time rope,” she said. “But why is it loose?” She grabbed the end closest to her with her upraised hand, and it stuck fast to her palm.

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“It isn’t loose now,” said Louie. “I think it likes you.”

Ren still couldn’t lower her arm, and the string started pulling her forward.

“It’s leading us somewhere,” Alana said, pointing.

“Probably to our deaths.” Louie groaned.

We all stared in awe as the gold string stretched longer and longer, floating across the ice, weaving between the crystal towers.

“Follow the gold!” Itzamna commanded.

“Right,” I grumbled. “Great idea.”

We stepped onto the ice and trailed the gold thread as it zigged and zagged, snaking up some of the massive quartz formations like it was sniffing them out before dropping down in front of us again.

“It’s looking for K’iin,” Ren whispered.

“No,” Itzamna said in a hushed voice. “They’re looking for each other.”

“How do you know?” Louie asked.

“Because the watch was made with pieces of the time rope,” the god said. “And K’iin is made of the same threads. They’re like magnets trying to connect.” He sighed appreciatively. “I must hand it to Pacific—she’s quite ingenious.”

Ren’s expression brightened.

White puffs streamed from our mouths as we stalked the now nearly ten-foot-long gold thread. It stopped and hovered over the ice before it slipped out of Ren’s grasp. It formed a hoop that floated down to the surface we were standing on.

With a sizzle and a flash, the golden circle sank into the ice. We stood around the five-foot-wide hole it had left behind.

Ren squatted to investigate. “It’s a tunnel. We should take it.”

“I’ll wait here,” Louie said. “Keep everything frosty.”

“We stay together,” I argued. “Unless you want to risk never getting home.”

“Like I said,” Louie added, “I’m totally following you guys.”