“I don’t die today,” Ash muttered. His thoughts were still soupy. “I know when I die.”

“Lucky you. Now go.”

Either a moment or an hour later, Ash opened his eyes and found that he was alone in the small hotel room. Dorothy wasn’t there. She’d never been there.

He was about to let his eyes drop closed, to let himself fall unconscious again, when he noticed that the Cirkus Freaks weren’t there, either.

And the door to his room was open, the darkened hallway twisting before him.

And . . . his gun was lying on the floor in front of him. He blinked to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.

The gun stayed where it was.

Now go.

Was that possible? Could he even stand?

I have a plan to take care of them, he thought, and the words worked like a salve, easing the pain in his body somewhat. He slid his hands under his shoulders and, cringing, began to peel his body off the floor.

He rose to his forearms first. Then, arms trembling, pushed himself to hands and knees.

It was a mistake. Pain crashed over him, leaving him dizzy. He tilted to the side, and he thought he was going to fall back to the ground again but he steadied himself against the side of the bed.

He breathed. Sitting upright became a little easier. He grabbed his gun, hands thick and clumsy. It took a few more tries but, eventually, he made his way to his feet and stumbled for the door, his heartbeat hammering in a small, panicky way.

I have a plan to take care of them, he remembered again.

Whatever Mac’s plan was, he had to stop it.

Ash followed the twisting docks through New Seattle without stopping to think about where he was going. His feet seemed to lead the way, carrying him through the dusty, damp buildings and out into open water. Downtown, the docks all converged and overlapped in a strange labyrinth. But once he got to the edge of the city, the docks stopped, leaving only empty, black water dotted with white trees.

Ash stood at the edge of the final dock, breathing hard. There was a little over a mile of water from where he stood to the anil. He was reasonably sure he could make it.

And then . . .

What?

What was his plan, here? He had no idea how long it had been since he heard Dorothy, Roman, and Mac planning to go back in time, but he was sure he was too late to catch up to the Black Crow. Which meant that he was going to have to try to go through the anil on his own, again, and hope that he’d be pulled through time by the Black Crow’s wake.

Would it work?

Shouting cut through the streets behind him. Ash looked over his shoulder and saw lights flicker in and out between the buildings, figures moving. He swallowed, tasting blood. The Black Cirkus wasn’t far behind. It’s not like he had another choice.