“Almost,” he answers. “That’s the version of the prophecy in general circulation. The more accurate version is known only to a select few.” He indicates the others sitting around the table. “What Mother actually said is that a girl from Sol would open a pathway to and from the seventh. A girl with a very particular name.”

All my attempts at being calm and composed vanish.

I know what he’s about to say. I can hear the words already.

“Beatrice Gold,” I whisper, my voice tight with excitement.

Gabe just looks at me. He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “Ana Moon.”

26

I look from Gabe to Silver-Hair and then aquiline-nose woman. My eyes travel to the others around the table, expecting them to react in some way. To fall about laughing. To tell me it’s all bollocks. Anything. But they’re dead serious. Every one of them.

I try to process what Gabe said, but I can’t. How am I supposed to feel about being the centre of some multiverse prophecy?

I look at Gabe. He stares back at me intently.

“What’s so special about my name?” I ask.

“Well, Ana is a palindrome,” he says. “And, man, that’s interesting, but not all that remarkable. Then, of course, Ana Moon comprises seven letters. Coincidence? A link to the seven worlds?” He shakes his head. “No. The real reason is Mother made it plain. She told us a Moon girl from Sol was the key. A Pathfinder with powerful abilities. You, Ana Moon. So, I’m sure you’ll understand—and forgive us—we set about following you, watching you. Long before your first Fall.”

I grip the edge of the table, allowing his words to sink in.

Following you. Watching you.

I’m back on the path into the woods with Bea. In my gut, that familiar nervy feeling. Something—hidden in the trees—following.

“It was you?” I whisper.

“Not us personally, you understand,” Gabe says, clearing his throat. “Collective agents. Pathfinders, acting on our behalf.”

“Stalkers!” I cry, standing up out of my seat, hand moving to my sword. “You were watching me? Who do you think you are?”

“Sit down, Ana,” he says.

But I’m not listening. All I can think about is seeing things, figures across the street, and believing I was mad. But all this time it was real. It happened.

I’m breathing fast. My heart is racing. I’m tired of being turned inside out and upside down. I’m tired of reality twisting, shifting, dropping out from under me.

“Sit down,” Gabe says firmly. His tone is kind, but commanding. Without being able to stop myself, I pull the chair in and retake my seat, pulse thumping.

“Listen, Ana, I know this is crazy,” he says. “I get it. We all do. But we were looking out for you. Watching over you.”

“I thought I was going insane,” I mumble under my breath.