“Not Chance. Another whom you did not see and have not met. Not yet. Not ever, if I can help it.”

Miranda spun around in helpless fury, but there was nothing to throw, no walls to hit or kick. She was reduced to clenching empty fists, stamping and shouting. “Let me go home!”

“I do not advise it,” Patience said soberly. “Your past and your future are now changing significantly. You cannot go until they have been resolved. It would be like walking on quicksand—perilous and likely to take you in a direction that you do not intend.”

“Don’t say that! How dare you say that? That’s not possible!” Miranda fidgeted, rubbing her fingers together, trying to persuade herself of her own reality by mere touch.

Patience waited, and eventually Miranda grew still once more, her gaze lowered in resignation.

Miranda raised her head and looked steadily at Patience. “There’s no need for this. Stop it now. Let me go back.”

“No,” said Patience. “Nothing can hurt you here. As for elsewhere . . . I cannot be held responsible.”

Miranda kept silent. She sat on the floor and stared down again, grimly swallowing back tears. For a long time, the hall was quiet.

Head still bowed, Miranda spoke slowly. “You want something from me.” She looked up and glared at Patience.

Patience did not meet her eyes. “Yes. Something I cannot ask.”

Miranda began to laugh. “You’re not even trying. You won’t tell me what’s going on. You won’t even look at me. What am I supposed to say? Do you want me to give you permission to ask? You want me to say I trust you?”

“I do not want you to trust me,” Patience said harshly. “I do not want you to like me or fear me or pay me any mind whatsoever. I want your decision on this matter to have nothing to do with me.”

“All right,” said Miranda, standing up shakily. “I’ll ask, then. What do I have to do to get back home?”

“That is the wrong question,” said Patience, her voice soft with regret. Her face was ageless, and only her silver hair hinted at an elder’s status, and yet between the gentle voice and the serene, resigned look of sorrow, she seemed very like a mother, and Miranda her rebellious child.

“What do you need me to do?” The words came unwillingly.

Patience looked at Miranda, meeting her eyes at last. “I will need your help to put an end to the undying one who is looking for you.”

“Why?”

“I am too close to him, too much akin. He can sense my presence and be gone in an instant. I know where he will be, but I cannot approach him without his knowledge. I would need a disguise.”