The Shadow Crosser (The Storm Runner 3)

“Ha!” Louie muttered, nearly tripping as he slowed down.

“I thought we’d be skewered for sure.” Alana fell against Ren, laughing between gasps of air. “Old Smalls is faster than I remember.”

“Smalls is bigger than a tow truck.” Louie was panting and sweating like he’d run a marathon in the Sahara Desert.

We all spun to see the bull suspended in the air mere steps behind us. He was in mid-stride, openmouthed, and wearing a glare so deep it looked etched on his face. And those long spiky horns that could double as demon fangs, size extra-large? Practically in my back pocket. Okay, I didn’t have a back pocket, but you get the point.

But something was missing. The last time Ren had stopped time was at SHIHOM, and she had used a shadow to protect those of us she didn’t want frozen. So where was the shadow now? When I asked, she just shrugged and said, “It was all instinct. Maybe I’m getting more precise?”

As we headed to the gate, I took in the amazing scenery. All trees, mountains, and a dozen shades of green that folded in on us as if to say Welcome. The daylight was fading, and it was hard to tell where the horizon ended and the sky began.

“Can we eat now?” Louie said as he exited the corral.

We hosed ourselves off near the cows’ water trough, and I steam-dried everyone’s clothes as best as I could by waving handfuls of fire over them. Then we walked about a quarter mile. The land rose and fell until we emerged on a wide grassy plain that smelled like pine and wet wood. In the distance was a log mansion complete with a wraparound porch and at least six stone chimneys. Behind the house was a gran white barn, a field of grazing horses, and three other houses—we’ll call them mini mansions, because they were way bigger than a normal house but not quite supersize.

“Whoa!” Louie said. “This is the hideaway?”

Alana nodded and sighed as we approached the wide porch of the main house. Lights shimmered behind the big windows.

Hondo bolted out of the front door, slamming the screen behind him. “Adrik said you found K’iin?”

I nodded.

“So where are the gods?”

“Where is everyone else?” I said, wishing I didn’t have to give him an answer.

“They’re doing a training exercise over by the barn,” he said. “Don’t deflect, Diablo.”

“How are the godborns?” Ren asked. “Do they know anything?”

Hondo eyed us suspiciously. “They know nothing. Now how about you tell me what you know.”

Alana walked up the porch steps and said, “I have to find Adrik.” Probably to check on his head bump. And then she was gone, followed by Louie, who was no doubt looking for the kitchen.

Hondo’s eyes found mine and held my gaze. I saw the questions rising, so I cut to the chase. Not wanting to repeat myself, I put on Itzamna’s shades.

“Zane!” the god cried. “You left me alone for so long I thought K’iin had thrown you into a time loop. Those are the worst—imagine living the same moment over and over and over for all eternity.”

“We’re fine,” I said before I explained the shades to Hondo. He just rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head. “Wait a second,” I said to Itzamna. “How come you didn’t want K’iin to know you were there?”

“We have a bad history, and that’s all I’m going to say on the matter.”

Yeah, probably some dumb calendar war, I thought.

“If she’s so all-seeing,” I asked, “how come she didn’t see you?”

“She wasn’t looking.”

“Zane,” my uncle said impatiently, “give it up, man.”

“The gods are lost….” Being the bearer of bad news sucks. Big-time. “They’re in a place we can’t get to,” I said, and even as the words left my mouth, I didn’t want to believe them.

“Of course we can get there,” Brooks said as she came around the side of the house. “Just tell me where. I’ll fly around the world if I have to.”

I loved that Brooks thought that scheming and planning and outsmarting your opponent would always win the day. And I really wanted her to believe that for a little longer, but there was no longer. There was no way to prepare her or Hondo for what I had to say next. “They’re in 1987.”

Brooks shook her head. She staggered back like someone had punched her in the chest. “WHAT?! How? No…Why?” Her brain was in full-throttle denial mode. “Did you say 1987…as in the year?”