The Shadow Crosser (The Storm Runner 3)

I stuck Itzamna’s shades back on, hoping the god’s magic would work here, like Pacific’s.

His face immediately appeared and he said, “I’m glad to hear Zip is doing well.”

“You knew he was alive?” I asked.

“I will not even dignify that with an answer.” Then: “Of course I knew!”

“Yeah, yeah. You see everything.” Seems to me he could have given us a heads-up….

Ren didn’t leave our friends in the dark. She briefly explained to Alana and Louie what had happened when they were in the time tunnel.

Alana took it like a champ, whispering stuff like “Whoa” and “Bomb dot com” while Louie got even paler.

“You okay?” Ren asked him. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

His nostrils flared. “I…I rocketed down a time tunnel?”

We all nodded.

“And into a lake with some kids?” he went on.

“Ghost kids,” Ren corrected.

Louie’s eyes grew wider. “And I chased a giant through a creepy forest?” His words hung on an I-can’t-believe-it breath. His mouth fell open, and as he looked up, his face bloomed into this huge goofy smile. “I’m a freaking ninja!”

Alana swept a wet strand of hair off her forehead and chuckled as I clapped the guy on his back.

A distant groan sounded. Everything went creepily silent and still—the kind of silence that cramps your insides and makes you worry about lurking ghosts and hidden snakes.

Then, one by one, the walls’ colors peeled themselves off in glowing pink, green, blue, and purple ribbons. Tiny threads hung from the end of each six-inch-wide strip.

“What are those?” Louie whispered.

The spectral strips swayed left, right, and back again like kite tails blowing in the wind. Then, one by one, they floated above each of our heads. Pink followed Alana. Purple drifted over Ren, green hovered over Louie, and I got a shimmery blue.

“Why are they following us?” Louie said, reaching toward his band.

Itzamna gasped. “No one move!”

My heart leaped into my throat. “Why?!”

“Those ribbons—” he began.

“Are they going to choke us to death?” Louie asked in a trembling voice as he quickly withdrew his hand.

“Those are your destiny strands,” Itzamna said. “One tug of the thread and your future is gone, changed, morphed, ruined.”

I glanced up. Each of our “destiny strands” was frayed at the bottom.

“My destiny is a ribbon?” Alana asked, ducking to avoid hers.

“No,” Itzamna offered. “Your destiny is written on the ribbon.”

“I don’t see any words or symbols,” Ren said.

“Only a god or K’iin can read it,” Itzamna whispered.

“Why are our destinies here?” I asked.