Seriously? Considering how the family drew power, who the hell had thought settling in Canada was a good idea? Though the weather did make it obvious time had passed. Even in Calgary. Shivering, she noted the barrier still hummed at her heels, and bent carefully to scoop up a handful of snow, licking it off her fingers, melting it in the warmth of her mouth to ease the tightness beginning at the back of her throat. Here, in the park, it tasted clean. Cold. Purified by the family’s power. And maybe, it tasted a little like Allie. Charlie grinned. But then, why wouldn’t it?

Beyond the barrier, would it taste of ash? Twenty-one months less eight was thirteen. It was possible she’d emerged once again before the impact point. Possible that Allie had agreed to decrease the spacing between her pregnancies. Possible, but unlikely given Allie. If the universe insisted, she’d be more likely to dig her heels in than fling them into the air.

Still . . . Charlie bit another mouthful of snow off the clump on her palm. If she turned, what would she see? A thousand tales began or ended with doors opened that should have stayed closed and Charlie’d had her hand on the doorknob her whole life.

Except this time she couldn’t open the door. Ask the question. Turn around . . .

“I’d have been a pillar of salt before they reached the suburbs,” she told the silence.

The silence agreed.

The residue of power in the snowmelt helped relax her throat. Responding to the ritual power rising on the hill, growing damp and heated under her clothes, she reached for more. It was safe enough this time to take the time. David couldn’t leave ritual. The aunties wouldn’t allow him out of . . .

Slammed her to her knees, the bout of her guitar carved a crescent into the snow. She jerked it clear, found her voice, and rolled sideways into the Wood.

Metaphysical dirt still tasted like dirt. Who knew? Ass in the air, chin dimpling the ground, guitar clutched tight against her body, Charlie straightened and spat. “Fucking hell, David!” He hadn’t needed to leave the circle, not with the power he commanded once ritual began. Why hadn’t she warned him that she’d be in and out? Unless she had, because why the hell wouldn’t she, and it hadn’t mattered. Didn’t matter. Wouldn’t matter. David acted instinctively to protect the family against someone he knew wasn’t supposed to be in the park. Because they were already in the park. Or had stepped into the Wood one day twenty-one months before an asteroid impact and had never stepped out.

“Let’s go with already in the park.”

Which raised the odds that he’d be waiting at the stage door every single time.

And speaking of time.

Familiar Songs rose around her.

Right back where she’d started from. Again.