“Your future. A future. A very likely one. Possibly the only one that will lead to the outcomes we desire. You and Chance will detain a man on the path to immortality, I will correct a personal error, and you will go home.”

The atmosphere shifted. Miranda turned quickly, her breath suddenly shallow. To her right, where there had once been featureless ground, was a large white stone labyrinth patterned in the dark soil.

“That’s not like the one Chance had me walk,” she whispered.

“No. That was the past. This is the future. You may suffer some déjà vu if you decide to live it again.”

“Are you trying to trick me?” Miranda asked, still whispering. “These are only illusions.”

Patience shook her head. “Once you walk that labyrinth, you will know. It is the only way.”

Miranda had already abandoned disbelief; now even fear was leaving her. She had been told the worst; now she was accepting it. She looked at the labyrinth again, or rather she focused on the white stone that marked the start of the path. She stared at it, and gradually her face and body relaxed.

“Very well,” said Miranda quietly. “Let’s go.”

She stepped forward onto the first stone.

—

The Trickster, silent witness throughout, took the opportunity to show himself. He coughed apologetically.

“Ajit,” said Patience, looking at him with the expected lack of surprise and an unexpected amount of tolerance. “Chance has started the work?”

The Trickster nodded. Patience was not omniscient—she merely knew him too well—but she could still awe him into good behavior and serious speech. “I couldn’t stay to help him, but perhaps I could help Miranda?”

Patience almost smiled. “She’s perfectly safe.”

“She . . .” The Trickster hesitated. “She is,” he acknowledged, “but she will not know that. May I go with her?”

She regarded him silently for a moment. “It is a very large labyrinth.”

“As large as only you can manage,” he agreed. “I understand what that means. I’ll keep my head on. I will remember that it’s not real.”

“You must not expect to be able to change anything. I am obliged to show her the worst case so that her choice, when she makes it, shall be fully informed.”

“Yes . . . an interesting choice. You prepare in advance?”

Patience chuckled at his folly. “I prepare in the moment, every moment, wherever it may fall in time.”

“Of course. Being human has made my thinking lazy. But I do wonder, in my small, limited way, what you are really expecting to get out of this.”

“I know you have been guessing at that for a very long time,” Patience replied. “Now, will you walk the labyrinth, or will you keep talking in the hope that I might say something that will satisfy your curiosity?”

He laughed. “I’ll walk. I’ll walk and wonder and keep an eye on my friend Miranda. You’re a cruel mother, Patience.”