They hired a carriage for the part of the journey that went from town to town, but the last part could only be done on foot because no roads led to the Wall. It was then, at the verge of the Wall, that Umbo pulled the others forward into the future moment when Rigg, Noxon, and Ram Odin had just left to rejoin the rest of them near the shore in Larfold. The flyer would be gone, but Vadeshex would be at home.

Passing through the Wall with permission did not involve the agony of anxiety and despair that normally made it impassable. But neither was it completely absent. Several times Umbo saw Loaf take Leaky by the hand and reassure her, because even these pale shadows of the feelings the Wall evoked were clearly upsetting her. Umbo remembered watching Rigg, Olivenko, and Loaf walk this half-league—though that time there had been soldiers coming to kill Umbo and Param as Umbo held the others in the past. Umbo also remembered making the walk himself, holding Param’s hand. They had just saved each other’s lives, and Umbo was in the first throes of falling in love.

All in all, it was a place that filled him with nostalgia, as well as dread.

Umbo half-expected Vadeshex to be there to greet them, as he had been the first time. What he did not expect was to meet himself.

Or at least the image of himself. Loaf was reminding Leaky to step only where he stepped as they came near the first stream, when someone cried out, “Stop!”

They turned and saw Umbo, and knew at once it was a message from the future rather than another copy of Umbo himself, because the background was different around him, and his hair was blowing in a breeze that didn’t exist where they were.

“It doesn’t work,” said the messenger. “Leaky can’t master the facemask. We waited a year but she never came out of it.”

Leaky was angry. “Are you saying that I’m weak? I’m too weak?”

“It’s not about strength of will,” said the messenger. “You’re plenty strong, but that probably makes it worse.”

“What is it, then?” asked Umbo.

The messenger clearly didn’t want to say it, but realized that he must. “Loaf thinks it’s a matter of self-control. Leaky doesn’t have enough of it, and neither do I. Rigg and Loaf do. Go back. There’s nothing for any of you here.”

And then the messenger—future Umbo—was gone. Gone completely, gone even from the future, because his message made it so that particular future would never exist.

Leaky sank to the ground, Loaf with her, his arm around her. “Why do we have to believe him!” she said.

“Because Umbo doesn’t come back and give false messages. Why would he?”

“What if I can do it this time because I was warned?” asked Leaky.