A small smile curled her lip. She had no way of knowing the exact day or the time, but she could guess that it was the morning of her wedding, and that the machine she’d just seen take to the sky wasn’t an airplane at all but a time machine, and, in fact, it was the Second Star, disappearing into the future with her and Ash on board.

The last thing she remembered with any clarity was standing in her rickety boat outside the anil in New Seattle, 2077, staring into Ash’s golden eyes as she slid a dagger into his body and praying to whoever would listen that her foolish idea might actually work.

She released a small, sharp laugh. Remarkable. It had happened just as the Professor wrote that it would. Of course, neither the Professor nor she had known that the anil would spit them out here and now, of all the times and places throughout history she could’ve gone, but she couldn’t think about that. Time, as always, was slipping away.

“Ash?” She turned her full attention to the body splayed across the earth in front of her. Now that the time machine had gone and the smoke had begun to fade, she could see him more clearly.

Oh, he looked like death. He was lying on his back, his eyes closed, his arms splayed to either side of his frightfully still body. His skin was gray and sallow, and blood clung thickly to his shirt, the color much too red and garish in the early morning light. Staring down at him, Dorothy felt fear roar up inside of her.

No, she thought, gritting her teeth. He couldn’t be dead. That wasn’t the plan.

It wasn’t going to end like this.

With a grunt, she pulled Ash’s head and shoulders off the ground and maneuvered them onto her lap. She lightly slapped his cheek. “Ash? Jonathan Asher, can you hear me? Wake up. Please.”

He didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. His eyelashes didn’t even flutter. Dorothy felt her fear turn cold.

Oh God, what have I done?

She groped along his neck, desperately searching for a pulse. Nothing and more nothing and more nothing after that . . .

And then . . . there. Just below Ash’s skin she’d felt something, a slight bomp bomp bomp, so faint that she could barely make out the vibration against her finger. It wasn’t strong, but it was still a heartbeat, which meant there was hope, if only she could figure out what to do now.

Think, damn you, she thought, looking up. Oh, this was bad. They were in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees and woods, a few yards from the old church and a mile or so from the train station. The nearest hospital was in Seattle proper, and it would take them ages to get there.