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be deadly. Worse, Jack Grew had still managed to slip away, taking the Book—and all of the secrets it held—with him. Without the Book, there was little chance of finding a way to use the stones to stop Seshat without Esta giving up her life.

But even sacrificing her life wasn’t enough to right the wrongs she had created. Esta was willing to give up everything to stop Seshat here and now, but even if Harte could take the Key back to New York for her and give it to her younger self, the world was likely already changing in ways Esta couldn’t predict and didn’t want to think about.

She took a step toward the edge of the platform, ignoring how the wind lashed at her. Below, the ground rushed by in a blur of rock and brush. Maybe it would be better if she didn’t return the stone. After all, without her meddling, the Book and its terrible power would have disappeared, as it had once before, and Seshat would never have been a threat. The world would be safe.

Safe. Esta looked out at the far-off horizon and tried to imagine that world, but she found she couldn’t. Hadn’t she learned long ago that safety was nothing but an illusion?

Her death was no solution. She knew that. If she never returned the Key, if history did unwind itself, the old magic would die, as Seshat had feared so long ago. Esta had grown up in that world, in a time far in the future, where magic was nothing but a fairy tale. And before magic faded away? There would be a century of fear and pain for those Mageus unlucky enough to have been born with a connection to the old magic. Removing herself from the equation wouldn’t stop the Order or any of the Brotherhoods. It wouldn’t end their hate or their violence or the power they held over the city she loved. It would simply leave the innocent as unprotected as they’d ever been. And Harte Darrigan would be gone as well, lost to history and memory, his life ended on a cold and lonely bridge.

It was that final thought that felt most impossible of all.

Esta’s fingers brushed at the bracelet at her wrist. The cheap strand of beads was the only thing Harte had left her, but he’d used his affinity to make it something more. As soon as Esta touched it, she felt Harte there, like he was standing right beside her. His voice echoed softly through her mind, explaining where he would go, what he planned to do, and when his words died away, Esta thought she could almost feel the warm brush of lips against the column of her throat: a promise and a plea all at once.

To control Seshat and stop the ancient power from unmaking the world, they needed the other lost artifacts, but with Seshat’s power growing, Harte’s time was running out. The Dragon’s Eye waited for him on a distant shore, but the Pharaoh’s Heart was closer. It was where they would have traveled together if everything hadn’t gone wrong in St. Louis. But with the threat of Seshat’s power, they couldn’t afford to waste time traveling together.

Find the dagger. Then meet me at the bridge. Together they would go back to the city and collect the final artifact.

It wasn’t exactly a command. Harte hadn’t used his affinity to take away Esta’s will, as he could have. He’d left her behind, trusting that she would be able to do what he asked of her. Trusting that she’d be willing.

Or maybe he didn’t trust her completely.… He’d taken her cuff, after all.

The land flew by around her, wide and open, a world filled with possibilities that were not for her. Would never be for her. Esta would do what Harte had asked. She would find the dagger and then meet him at the bridge, but she would not allow herself to forget where her path would inevitably lead. She would use her affinity to stop Seshat, and in doing so, she would lose her life. Once Seshat was no longer a threat, it would be left to Harte to take the Key to the small girl Esta had been and stop time from unwinding. There was nothing Esta could do about the tragedy she’d caused in St. Louis. There was no way she could see to take the stones back to 1902 without crossing them with themselves and losing them again. But she could still stop Seshat from unmaking the world. Perhaps with Seshat’s power under control, Harte and the others they’d left in the city could fight the Order and create a different future for magic. Perhaps that could be enough.

Esta reached for the bracelet once more, the beads cool against her fingertips. Again Harte’s voice came to her. She couldn’t stop herself from closing her eyes as his words brushed against her and his presence surrounded her again. Nor could she stop her throat from going tight at the feel of his lips against her skin, but when she opened her eyes, she was alone in the middle of a wide sweep of unfamiliar country.

She tore the bracelet from her wrist, letting the tiny glass beads scatter like seeds in the wind. Esta wouldn’t let herself rely on the comforting presence of Harte’s voice, nor could she afford the distraction of his kiss. Both were only reminders of a future that could never be.

But first the dagger.

The air smelled faintly of the coal smoke expelled by the train, and the morning sky was a bright cornflower blue overhead. The train didn’t seem to be slowing anytime soon, but that didn’t mean that Esta couldn’t get off. Far off in the distance, the jagged teeth of a town broke the endless stretch of the horizon. It was an opportunity.

Esta let her affinity flare until she could sense time hanging around her, but she’d barely started to reach for the seconds

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