“Adan, I don’t wanna be carried,” Maya whined, wriggling in Henry’s firm grip. After yesterday’s repeated delays, he’d decided to carry her most of the way today. Maya, of course, was less than pleased and made sure everyone knew it.

  Henry sighed, readjusting her on his hip. “I know,” he said for what had to be the tenth time since we’d set out. “But you can’t keep wandering off. You could get lost or hurt. I told you after the second time—if it happened again, I’d have to carry you. Tomorrow, we’ll try again. Stay close, and you won’t have to be carried. Deal?”

  She slumped against his shoulder, sulking. “But there are so many pretty things…”

  Her eyes lingered on a vibrant purple flower as we passed a willow-like tree with grey bark and hanging blooms. Henry stepped further away before she could reach for it.

  “We don’t know what’s poisonous, sweetling. I won’t risk you getting hurt.”

  She cuddled closer and sighed, clearly defeated but still pouting. “Fine,” she mumbled, drawing the word out like it physically pained her to agree.

  Henry chuckled, tickling her side. “That didn’t sound convincing, little one. Are you sure?”

  Maya squealed, giggling as she squirmed in his arms. “I am! I am! Stop tickling!”

  His grin widened as he relented. “Good. Just had to be sure.”

  Dominicus, walking ahead of us, twitched his ears, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “He’s a good father.”

  I nodded. “He is. And I’ve met enough bad ones to know the difference.”

  Time’s stare burned into the back of my head, and I resolutely avoided looking at him. It was unnerving, knowing he knew about everything—the basement, Mr. Bugel, the abuse. I hadn’t told many, and the few I had didn’t believe me. The courts ruled in my favor, but the whispers still lingered:

  You probably just wanted attention and got a good man locked up for it. Hope you’re proud of yourself.

  My stomach churned as the old, venomous voice clawed its way to the surface. I shoved it back down and focused on the present.

  But Time’s stare didn’t let up, and the skin-crawling feeling finally forced me to glance at him.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  His expression was neutral, save for a flicker of contemplation in his eyes. When our gazes met, he hummed. “You are quite…casual with referencing your past trauma.”

  I shrugged, turning back toward the path. “It’s a habit. Making jokes about it…it’s easier that way.”

  Dominicus glanced at me curiously but, mercifully, said nothing. “Did you have any luck finding the tomes?”

  Groaning, I rubbed the back of my neck. “I think so? Some of the books might be tomes, but there aren’t any titles on the covers. And I have no idea what I’m even looking for.”

  Time nodded, his gaze flicking to the satchel slung over my shoulder. “Tomes usually have symbols on the front to indicate the affinity of the spells inside.”

  I thought back. “There were a few with what looked like fire, one with a spiky ball, and maybe two with a diamond?”

  “Those are likely tomes of Mana—fire, light, and ice, if I had to guess. When we stop tonight, I will take a closer look.”

  Whatever we’d do with the tomes after finding them all was another question entirely. Maybe Inspiration could build some kind of vault for them. I’d have to bring it up with Time later.

  “Adan, I have to pee.”

  Maya’s whine snapped me back to the moment, and Henry shot me an apologetic look. “This is normal. I’m sorry for the delay.”

  I waved him off, amused by the familiarity. Kids were kids, no matter what planet you were on. “It’s fine. I used to work around kids. I know how it goes. Looks like the trees are clearing up ahead—we can stop there.”

  Stepping past the last of the trees, I froze. “What the f—”

  “Language!” Henry cut me off, and I grunted, shaking my head.

  “English, but seriously, what is that?!”

  I gestured toward the massive fissure in the ground ahead of us. It stretched for what seemed like miles, at least fifty feet wide, with dead grass lining its crumbling edges. The earth fell away into jagged stone, but the rest of the forest around it seemed untouched—like some colossal beast had raked a claw through the land and left everything else unscathed.

  Henry grimaced, his eyes dark with foreboding…and sympathy.

  “It was caused by a spirit’s grief. No one knows which one or what happened. One day, everyone across Nexus felt this crushing wave of power. And then…this appeared.” He shuddered, looking away. “We were lucky they managed to contain it to a non-populated area. A little farther, and it would’ve destroyed the nearby town.”

  Time’s expression shifted—pain and guilt flickering across his face. My blood ran cold as realization struck like a bucket of ice water.

  He’d lost a child, arguably one of the worst things that can happen to a person. The grief would have been unfathomable…and this was the consequence.

  My stomach churned as I looked down at the fissure again, its jagged edges a testament to the sheer power it must’ve taken to carve it into the earth. I’d known Time was strong—he’d rewound an entire planet, after all—but seeing this… It was something else entirely.

  And I’d cursed him out the first time we met.

  Holy shit.