Nerves tingled in her fingers as she turned, taking in the space. Mac had begun hoarding the items she and Roman had brought back from the past, she saw. A baseball from the Cubs’ first World Series win had rolled against his dresser. A wineglass from the Titanic sat on his bedside table, where it was currently being used as an ashtray. The bass guitar that Dorothy had stolen from the dressing room of the Beatles’ first show in Liverpool was lying on the floor near the far wall, in pieces. It hadn’t been in pieces when they’d brought it back. Mac must’ve smashed it.

Grimacing, Dorothy tore her eyes away from the treasures, telling herself that none of that mattered, now. If she’d left them in the past, they would’ve been destroyed by the ravages of time anyway. This wasn’t any worse.

And she had to work quickly.

She removed the EM from her cloak, fingers trembling as she unscrewed the top of the canister. The EM glittered inside, strange as always. She couldn’t risk losing any, not when there was such a limited supply left in the world. And she wasn’t sure how much she’d need for this little experiment. The Professor, infuriatingly, hadn’t been very specific in his calculations.

Not a good sign, whispered a voice in her head, but she quickly pushed it away. What other options were there? She’d just have to make do.

She hurried into the penthouse bathroom and pushed the door closed behind her, jumping a little as she heard it latch. She fumbled for the light switch—success. Electric lights flicked on above her, gleaming off the white marble and black tile. She should’ve known that Mac would have his private rooms set up with electricity as soon as possible.

Exhaling deeply, she placed the EM canister on the countertop and met her own eyes in the mirror above the sink.

She looked dreadful. Hair mussed from a night spent outdoors and going so long between washings, face smudged with dirt and grime. A nervous smile twitched at her lips. Was this really how she wanted to greet Ash after so long? Unwashed and filthy? Her eyes flicked to the shower stall behind her, and she found herself wishing she had time to bathe.

Footsteps outside the hotel room door made her tense. She didn’t know how long she had before Mac came up here to do . . . whatever he planned to do to her. And she didn’t know how long this would take to work.

“Here goes nothing,” she murmured, on an exhale. She pulled Roman’s dagger out from under her cloak and gathered a very small amount of EM on the tip of the blade.