“There’s no way to know, but if the Temporis Porta is some kind of portal, which seems likely, then you could have been seeing something that hasn’t happened yet. The actual future.” Liv started scribbling in her red notebook. I knew she wanted to remember every detail of this conversation.

“After what I saw, I hope you’re wrong.”

She stopped writing. “I suppose it wasn’t good, then?”

“No.” I stopped. “If that really was the future, we can’t let Marian go to that trial. Promise me. If they come again, you’ll help me keep her away from the Council. I don’t think she knows—”

“I promise.” Her face was dark and her voice cracked, and I knew that she was trying not to cry.

“Let’s hope there’s some other explanation.” But even as I said it, I knew there wasn’t. And so did Liv.

We retraced our steps, through the dirt, the heat, and the darkness, until I couldn’t feel anything except the weight of my world collapsing.

10.13

Golden Ticket

That night, after the visit from the Far Keep, Marian went into her house and didn’t come out again, as far as I could tell. The next day, I stopped by to see if she was okay. She didn’t answer the door, and she wasn’t at the library either. The day after that, I brought her mail up to the porch. I tried to look in her windows, but her shades were drawn, and the curtains, too.

I rang the bell again today, but she didn’t answer. I sat down on her front steps and leafed through her mail. Nothing out of the ordinary—bills. A letter from Duke University, probably about one of her research grants. And some kind of returned letter, but I didn’t recognize the address. Kings Langley.

Why was that familiar? My head felt foggy, like there was something at the edge of my memory I couldn’t reach.

“That would be mine, I believe.” Liv sat down on the step next to me. Her hair was braided, and she was wearing cutoff jeans and a periodic table T-shirt.

On the surface, Liv seemed the same. But I knew the summer had changed things for her. “I never asked you if you were okay after that scene at the library, with the Council. Are you—all right, I mean?”

“I suppose. But what happened at the Temporis Porta scared me more.” She looked scared, and faraway.

“Me, too.”

“Ethan, I think it was the future. You walked through the door, and you were transported to another physical place. That’s the way a time portal operates.”

The Far Keep hadn’t felt like a dream, or even a vision. It was like stepping into another world. I just wished that world wasn’t the future.

Liv’s face clouded over. Something else was bothering her.

“What is it?”

“I’ve been thinking.” Liv twisted her selenometer nervously. “The Temporis Porta only opened for you. Why didn’t it let me through?”

Because bad things keep happening to me. That’s what I was thinking, but I didn’t say it. I also didn’t mention that I’d seen my English teacher in the future. “I don’t know. So what do we do?”

“The only thing we can. We make sure Marian doesn’t go to the Far Keep.”

I looked up at her door. “Maybe we should be glad she won’t come out of the house. Guess I should’ve known nothing good would come out of sneaking around in Amma’s pantry.”

“Except the preserves.” Liv smiled weakly. She was trying to distract me from the one thing I could never get away from—myself.

“Cherry?”

“Strawberry.” She said it in two syllables. Straw-bry. “With a spoon, straight out of the jar.”

“You sound like Ridley. All sugar, all the time.” She smiled when I said it.

“I meant to ask you. How are Ridley and Link and Lena?”

“Aw, you know. Ridley’s tearing up the school. She’s a cheerleader now.”

Liv laughed. “Siren, cheerleader. I’m not up on American culture, but even I appreciate the similarities.”

“I guess. Link is the biggest big man on campus you’ve ever seen. The girls hang all over him. He’s a real chick magnet.”

“How is Lena? Happy to have her uncle back, I bet. And you.”

She didn’t look at me, and I didn’t look at her. When she finally spoke, she looked up into the blazing sun, instead of at me. That’s how much she didn’t want to say it to my face. “It’s hard for me, you know? I find myself thinking about you, things I want to tell you, things I think are funny or odd, but you aren’t there.”

I wanted to drop Marian’s mail and bolt down the steps.

Instead, I took a deep breath. “I know. The rest of us are all still together, and you’re alone. After everything we went through, we bailed on you. It sucks.” I finally said it. It had been bothering me since the day we came home to Gatlin, the day Liv disappeared into the Tunnels with Macon.

“I have Macon. He’s been wonderful to me, almost like a father.” She twisted the bits of string that were always tied to her wrist. “But I miss you and Marian, and not being able to talk to either of you is horrible, actually. I don’t want to get her into any more trouble. But it’s like being told you have to give up ice cream, or prawn crisps, or Ovaltine.”

“I know. I’m sorry it’s all so weird.” What was weird was this conversation. It was so much like Liv to be the one brave enough to have it.