27

Dorothy

Dorothy let herself into her room, feeling twitchy and cold. Her head was so full of Roman’s lies, and Mac’s bribes, and the dead, bleak future she’d just seen that she doubted she’d ever be able to drift to sleep. She found herself wishing that she’d taken a few more swigs of the bourbon Mac had brought them, if only to quiet the worries running through her head.

She hesitated at the door, wondering if there was any left at the bar, half considering going back to fetch it.

In the end, she only closed the hotel room door behind her, deciding against it. It would be dawn soon, and then she and Roman would need to climb back into the time machine for their second mission. There was barely time for sleep.

She removed her cloak and wet boots and pulled her white hair away from her face.

And then she touched the small, silver locket hanging from her mirror, like she always did when she got to her room, sending it swaying.

28

Ash

NOVEMBER 8, 2077, NEW SEATTLE

It was near morning, and Ash’s eyes glazed as he read through the Professor’s notes again.

If x is equal to y at the time of a storm, then the formula for calculating the stabilization of the anil (or S) would become:

S = P0 + ρxy

He swore under his breath, rubbing the skin between his eyes. He could pick out words and phrases that felt familiar, but the second he tried to make sense of them, everything crumbled.

Zora was a lot smarter than he was, though. A hell of a lot smarter. If she thought these notes meant time travel was causing the earthquakes . . .

His head started pounding, a deep, steady throb that made his eyesight go bloody. It would mean they were responsible for the deaths of tens of thousands of people—that they could be responsible for the deaths of millions more if they didn’t figure out a way to stop the Black Cirkus before they traveled through time again.

There was a creak on the floorboards behind him. Ash whirled around, fingers twitching at his waist, itching to reach for the gun he’d tucked into the back of his jeans.

But it was just Zora. She leaned against the doorframe, eyes going soft as she considered him.

“What do you think?” she asked.

Ash faltered. “You know more than me about all this.”

“Yeah, but I’m looking for a second opinion.” She took a step closer to the desk. “So?”

Ash was quiet. The numbers swam before him, but even he could see that they added up to something, telling a story he didn’t want to believe.

He lifted his eyes to Zora. “You sure about this equation?”

“As sure as I’ve been about anything.” Zora sighed and dropped into the chair next to him, swiping a hand over her forehead. “You know, if my dad were here, he’d do a whole line of experiments to prove exactly this. Come up with a question, form a hypothesis, test the hypothesis, et cetera.”