Arwen shook her head. “What my brother meant to say was that twenty-two months would give us plenty of time to leave even if it were necessary to build a new gate from the ether where Nothing hides. But it isn’t necessary because there’s one at . . .” She jerked and snarled, “Did you kick me?”

Elessar showed teeth. “You were about to gift the little prince with the burden of knowledge.”

“My mistake.” The words were almost lost under her hiss.

“Do you guys honestly think Allie doesn’t know about a gate inside the city limits?” Jack sighed. “About every gate within the city limits?”

“It matters more, as my brother reminds me, that we are not the ones who have informed her of it.” Arwen’s fingernails peeled up fine lines of plastic from the tabletop. “And, as I was saying, just under two years gives us time to finish four, perhaps five seasons of the glorious game before we move leisurely home. The Gales’ very nature ensures they’ll be staying here.” Her smile became pure malice. “If you want the rock to stop falling, you stop it.”

“All we have to do is survive it,” Jack shrugged, hoping the movement looked more natural than it felt. “When the dust settles, there will still be Gales. The family can save itself.”

“So you want us to save the rest of world, little Wyrm?”

“No. We want to know if you’re going to.” He nodded toward the crests on their jackets. “Me, I kind of thought you might want a chance to save basketball. We’re not going to do it. We’re still arguing about saving hockey.”

Elessar and Arwen locked gazes for a moment, then Elessar dumped another three packages of sugar into his coffee and said, “There’s that.”

“We will discuss this information among ourselves.” Arwen inclined her head in what was clearly a dismissal.

“Good for you. Then let me know what you decide to do, so I can take it to the aunties and make sure there’s no misunderstandings.” And she did not dismiss him. Who was the prince here anyway? “Are you going to eat that?” He nodded toward her nearly untouched pie.

She pushed it to him.

“Thanks.”

“It’s poisoned.”

Jack shrugged. “Dragon.” If they were that easy to kill, he’d have fewer uncles.

They watched him eat, watched him stand, watched as Joe fell into step beside him and the two of them left the diner. It wasn’t until they were across the road and nearly to Joe’s car that Jack finally felt the weight of their combined gazes drop off.

“You might want a chance to save basketball?” Joe asked.

Jack opened his mouth, belched, and melted a no parking sign.

CHAPTER EIGHT

“HOW LONG DO WE WAIT?”