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Back Seasons of Chaos Save as PDF
Chapters (70)
  1. Dedication
  2. Prologue
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. 59
  62. 60
  63. 61
  64. 62
  65. Epilogue
  66. Acknowledgments
  67. About the Author
  68. Books by Elle Cosimano
  69. Back Ad
  70. About the Publisher

“Kai Sampson’s not my problem!” Doug rounds on me. “Do you want to know what my problem is? My problem is this.” He pulls a dead leaf from his pocket and crushes it in his hand. “Sixty-eight Seasons are in the wind, this place is falling apart, and people are beginning to question my ability to fix it! That’s my problem!” He bangs his pointer finger into his temple. “And as long as you’re along for the ride, it’s your problem, too! So when you’re finished worrying about whatever bullshit scavenger hunt for your boyfriend’s magic is going on in the catacombs, maybe you could help me figure out how to restore the world to its proper working condition!” His mind is a storm of emotion.

I have to find Jack. I have to get a message to him. And I can’t do that while Doug’s watching me. I have to keep calm. Hold my emotions in check. I don’t know how much of my mind Doug can see, or if he’s even figured out that he can, but if he suspects I’m up to something, he’s sure to try.

“Fine,” I say with a forced calm. “But I’m not going out there in a bloody prison jumpsuit. I want real clothes. Warm ones. And a coat.”

He eases away from me. “I’ll call Lixue—”

“No,” I say, careful not to think of Jack as I slip my recalcitrant hands into my pockets. My fingers curl around the wooden ornament I took from the floor of Doug’s office earlier. “Last time she picked my clothes, I nearly froze to death. I’ll choose the clothes myself, or I’m not going.”

“Fine,” he grumbles. “We’ll stop in Gaia’s room on the way.”

45

The Edge of Doom

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JACK

I turn Lyon’s desk chair upright and fall into it, reading his letter again, certain I must be missing some clue inside it. I’ve been through all of his scattered files. I’ve checked the underside of every tossed desk drawer and the margins of every poetry book. Elbows on my knees, I stare at the secret panel in the floor. Leaving Fleur in Doug’s apartment feels like a mistake, but I know better than to try to force her to go. All I can do is find the eye, come up with a plan, and wait.