The Shadow Crosser (The Storm Runner 3)

“You didn’t ask me how to get to the gods,” K’iin said, “only where they were.”

“You’re talking in circles,” I spat.

“Why won’t we find the gods?” Louie asked. “You just told us the address.”

The mirror began to crack and split. The image of Venice Beach shattered into a thousand pieces.

“Because,” K’iin said, “the gods are trapped in 1987.”

1987.

1987.

1987.

Did I mention 1987? The gods were trapped in time more than thirty years ago? As soon as those mind-blowing, impossible words were spoken, our destiny strands vanished. Dust and debris drifted down from the ceiling. The stars on the floor started flashing brightly.

Alana shielded her eyes, scrambling for her shades. “I don’t see any gateways in here.”

“I don’t want to die in an ancient clock!” Louie cried.

“K’iin?” Ren said. “Are you there?”

The hole in the floor went dark. The walls began to close in on us at a rapid pace—so fast we would go splat in a matter of seconds. Four feet. Three.

“Zane!” Alana cried.

We pressed our hands and feet against the encroaching walls, trying to stop them. “K’iin!” I screamed.

“I can’t do you a favor if I’m dead!” Ren shouted.

A beam shot out of the floor again. “Just testing your resolve,” K’iin said. “Ready, set, go!”

The room turned upside down. The ground—or was it the ceiling?—disappeared under our feet, and we tumbled into a dark abyss. We finally stopped, one on top of another in a pile of limbs, and I thought we might be stuck there forever. But then I opened my eyes to see that we were jammed at the end of the time tunnel. We had fallen up! Alana and Ren were ahead of Louie, and I was dead last, clinging to his ankle to keep from sliding back down.

Louie kicked, nearly smashing my nose. “Hey!” I shouted.

Alana was close enough to the top that she could climb out, then help the rest of us.

As we clambered out into the ice cave, no one spoke. No one said What the hell?, K’iin’s bonkers, or You should never trust an ancient calendar. Maybe we were all in shock. K’iin’s cost was too high, because the answer equaled a no-way solution.

And then Ah-Puch’s words flew into my brain: We are no longer here, Zane.

So he knew. He knew he was lost in time and he hadn’t told me, because he thought he was protecting Ren, protecting all of us from attempting an impossible quest. But here’s the thing about gods—yeah, they’re strategic and cunning and powerful and sometimes super smart, but they lack something that matters even more. They don’t have the stubbornness of a human heart. Not by a long shot.

Alana led us to an invisible gateway that she was hoping would get us to Montana. We needed to bring our comrades up to speed, and it wasn’t like we had anyplace else to go.

“How will we ever save the gods now?” Alana whispered, staring at Ren’s watch. “Do you think you could…?”

Ren caught Alana’s meaning. “I can only stop time for five minutes. That isn’t the same thing as traveling through it.”

Zotz and Ixkik’ were bigger geniuses than I’d given them credit for. They had managed to hide the gods in a place no one could ever reach. Well, unless you lived in the ’80s. So Brooks had been right. Our enemies no longer had access to the gods.

“If we don’t save them,” I said, “does that mean none of us were ever born?”

Ren thought for a second, then shook her head. “Not unless they also wipe out the gods in 1987,” she said. “Right?”

“How should I know?” I groaned. “You’re the time goddess’s daughter!”