Take it, Genevieve.
I pulled my hands away, and Amma’s moved with mine. The Book jerked free as if it sensed its only chance at escape. It lurched toward the outer circle, where John and Link were holding hands.
The glowing green light was still in place, and John concentrated his gaze on the Book. “I don’t think so.”
It hit the light and ricocheted back into the center of the circle and Genevieve’s waiting hands. She closed her hazy palms around it, and the Book seemed to shudder.
Not this time.
I held my breath, listening to Amma cry.
Genevieve pressed the Book against her chest and dematerialized.
My heart dropped. “Amma! She took it!” I couldn’t think or feel or breathe. I had made the wrong choice. I would never see Ethan again. My knees gave out, and I felt myself falling.
I heard a rip, and an arm caught me around the waist.
“Lena, look.” It was Link.
I blinked back the tears and looked at him, his free hand pointing at the sky.
Genevieve was there in the darkness, her red hair trailing behind her. She held The Book of Moons out to Sulla, who took it from her hands.
Genevieve smiled at me.
You can trust me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
She disappeared, leaving the Greats looming in the sky behind her like giants.
Amma held her burnt hands to her chest and stared up at her family from another world. The world where Ethan was trapped. Tears ran down her cheeks as the green glow died around us.
“You take that book to my boy, ya hear?”
Uncle Abner tipped his hat to her. “Be expectin’ a pie now, Amma. One a those lemon meringues will do me just fine.”
Amma choked back a final sob as her legs gave out from under her.
I dropped with her, breaking her fall. I watched as the rain drowned out the fire and the Greats disappeared. I had no way of knowing what was going to happen next. There was only one thing I knew for sure.
Ethan had a chance now.
The rest was up to him.
BOOK THREE
Ethan
CHAPTER 30
Lost Time
L. Are you there? Can you hear me? I’m waiting. I know you’ll find the Book soon.
You wouldn’t believe this place. I feel like I’m living in a ten-thousand-year-old temple, or maybe a fortress. You wouldn’t believe this guy either. My friend Xavier. At least I think he’s my friend. He’s like a ten-thousand-year-old monk. Or maybe some kind of ancient temple wombat.
Do you know what waiting feels like in a world where no time passes? Minutes feel like centuries—eternities—only worse, because you can’t even tell which is which.
I find myself counting things. Compulsively. It’s the only way I know how to mark the time.