“Okay.” Tair readjusted our grip, but didn’t try to pull away. “Just calm down. You’re throwing off delta waves like you’re in REM sleep.”

That might explain the pressure clamping my head like a toothy vise. Tair’s digital watch thingy beeped frantically, and I twisted his arm a bit to check the display. He had my vitals on the screen—my pulse rate neared the scary red part of the graph and my adrenaline levels read like a game of ping-pong.

Mazu, Odin, and Thor.

I could deal with being overwhelmed, but not bouncing back and forth between nothing and all the visions at once. What was Tair doing to me?

It wasn’t the same touch I’d felt at breakfast—when a force zinged between us, doubling everything and making my head go fuzzy. Something stronger than electricity.

That one had only lasted a split-second, but the sensation was burned into my brain. Like that moment had just made my life’s highlight reel for reasons I couldn’t begin to guess. Even now it stood out in vivid color against the army of bluish, washed-out ghosts, like something about that breakfast was calling to me through time.

The pancakes hadn’t even been that good.

But this…

Now Tair’s hand felt like a lifeline and our connection shot through every nerve I had. I’d never felt so much clarity. All I could see were the crisp, solid lines of the present.

And the quiet. Only the sound of my breath echoed in my ears.

But actually…

The more I looked around, the more the clarity felt creepy. Our six guards shifted warily on the balls of their feet. I turned to the closest one and swallowed hard. I could read the wrinkles in his clothes like a map—he carried spare magazines of ammo at his hips, a small handgun (less than 30 millimeters) strapped to his ankle, and probably a sleeve of slim throwing knives up his right sleeve.

I shouldn’t know that.

If I hadn’t seen it in the past or present—and I hadn’t, because I couldn’t see anything now that I was holding on to Tair—then I couldn’t possibly have that information.

Thirty millimeters? All I knew was gun or not gun. Big gun or little gun.

It wasn’t like I was seeing through his eyes exactly, but…

Was his consciousness bleeding over?

Or was he trying to beam me a message?

My own projection sucked so hard I could only reach the mental Marcos of the world, and I doubted Tair was that open. But it wasn’t like my brainpower was weak. Not when I spent all day, every day sifting through time.

We already had skin contact. I could try to send him an image, except I had zero timeghosts at the moment.

Instead, I sent him a little mental flick, like a poke between the eyebrows. Tair?