A swarm of sparks breaks free of my body and soars over the fence. I rock back on my knees, shielding my face from the white-hot flash as Fleur absorbs it, and like a bolt of golden lightning, she’s sucked down into the earth.

The sudden absence of her magic leaves the park darker than it was. Colder.

The scratching burn is gone from my eye. But something feels . . . wrong. My heart begins to pound and my pulse quickens.

You are now, and will always be, alone.

I clutch my chest. Pain explodes behind it as Gaia’s magic begins to rage.

Jack turns to face me. There’s hope in his eyes. Fear in his sweat.

“Where is she?” I bellow.

His smile is triumphant. “You don’t know, do you? You can’t feel her anymore.”

I charge at him.

Jack ducks my swing. He drives a punch into my cracked rib, as if he knew the injury was there. The hit doubles me over. When I look up, he strikes the blind side of my face. His fist snaps against my cheek. I shake it off, the sting paling in comparison to the riot happening inside me.

Jack leaps for the scythe.

I tackle him, catching him by the back of his jacket and hauling him over. I throw a punch to his jaw. Another to his gut. He expels a fogged, cold breath that smells faintly like Fleur. Like magic . . .

I stare down at him, my fist frozen as I try to make sense of it. Jack pivots out from under me, swiveling onto his side. He scrabbles for the end of the staff, but I’m taller, my arms longer. I leap over him, my fingers reaching it first.

Jack rolls to his feet as I get to mine. We circle each other, panting steam, dripping rain. He inches away, backing toward the footpath.

“I can help you, Doug. But we don’t have much time.”

“I am Time! I control it!” I swing the scythe. It hisses past his midsection, kissing the side of his coat.

“If you were in control, the world wouldn’t be coming apart. Admit it, you’re in over your head. You need help.”

“I don’t need a damn thing from you.”

Jack widens the circle, increasing the space between us. His eyes are hungry on the staff, like he’s torn between running and fighting for it. A thick cloud of fog passes between us. Jack sprints, disappearing inside it.

“No!” With a flash of my scythe, I stop time. The pain takes me to my knees. The smell of blood overwhelms every other scent as a thick, hot stream of it flows from my nose.