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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

I loop the ribbon around my finger and study the snowman. From what little I’ve seen of Jack’s room, he doesn’t strike me as the sentimental type, but the footlocker is full of keepsakes . . . ceramic, glass, and silver trinkets. There must be close to thirty of them. . . .

I kneel beside the box as I realize what I’m staring at.

“What is it?” Lixue asks.

“These aren’t Jack’s. They’re Fleur’s.” These are the memorials she made for him each spring after she killed him.

In Lixue’s eyes, I see a reflection of a shared memory. The day our team found one of the ornaments hanging from a pine tree in some backwoods town in Virginia. Jack’s initials had been carved in the bark. That was all the evidence I’d needed to justify Fleur’s Reconditioning. Lixue had been with me that day when we cornered Fleur in an alley and confronted her about her feelings for Jack. And Noelle . . . she had been the one to deliver Fleur’s punishment. Clearly, she hadn’t learned anything from it; she’d helped them escape anyway. And it got her killed.

“Why would he leave them here?” Lixue asks. “I mean, it’s obvious why he abandoned the maps—he would have known he’d never have use for them again. But why keep these here when he was so careful to shred everything else?”

Unless he cared about them too much to destroy them.

I fish a silver angel from the box and hold it dangling from its ribbon as I read the inscription.

Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time . . .

The line of old poetry reads like a love note. Or a code. Regardless, if these ornaments are meaningful to Jack, all the more reason for me to hang them like bread crumbs throughout the Observatory, just to taunt him when he gets here.

“Take the box and the maps to my office.”

“Yes, Chronos.” Carefully, she places all the ornaments back in the footlocker and collects the maps.

I slip the silver angel into my pocket, certain I have all I need to find Jack once he gets here. He and Kai will probably hide in the catacombs under the Winter wing. Kai will break off in search of her sister while Jack forms a plan to find Fleur. With any luck, Jack won’t be the only thing I’ll uncover down there. The maps are all it would take to find him and smoke him out of his hole, but I won’t need to. I’ll have the eye. And I’ll have Gaia’s magic. Then all I’ll have to do is dangle his shiny angel in front of him and Jack Sommers will come to me.

20

Into the Storm

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JACK