Chaos (24 page)

He turned and started back toward the river. As he got closer to the end of the path, he could hear the roar of water rushing into the unknown. The sky was the same violet shade as ever; the water reflected thousands and thousands of stars.

Without hesitation, Luc dove into the river and swam toward the line where the stars met the edge of Pyralis. Soon the current grabbed him, propelled him along. He couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. He knew he must be approaching the waterfall that bled out off the edge of Pyralis, and into the Crossroad. The roar of the water was thunderous. The spray got in his mouth and in his eyes. For a second, he was cold with terror and wanted to stop, to get out, to rest. But then the current pushed him over the edge of the waterfall, and he plummeted into the swirling mist below.

This time, when the spikes of pain and light came, driving through Jasmine’s skull, it was almost a relief. She sat down heavily in front of the rotunda and waited. The ground beneath her trembled; she felt like she might get bucked off the surface of the earth. She took deep breaths, recited all the constellations through Dorado.

Finally, her head cleared. The blackness eating the edges of her vision dissipated. The sun was just breaking over the horizon, across the city. The rotunda was changed. Newer. It was the rotunda she recognized. A dozen feet away, a jogger was shouting to her—but she was too focused on his Nike sneakers, on his big digital watch and heart monitor, to make out what he was saying. With a rush of relief, she realized she was back. Or forward. Whatever. She could have cried out with joy.

Still, the ground kicked underneath her. She tried to stand up and stumbled. It was like trying to catch a wave; the pavement rolled and a loud
crack
split the air. Behind her, an enormous column split and toppled. Air whooshed past her and Jasmine felt the impact of the column against the earth from ten feet away. The air was filled with a low growl, and Jasmine instinctively went into a crouch and covered her head, as she’d learned to do during earthquakes as a young kid.

This was a bad one, one of the worst she’d ever experienced. The world turned to chaos, bucking like an angry bull, snapping trees in half and sending them crashing into cars. Across the street, windows popped and exploded along a row of well-maintained houses.

Jasmine heard screams erupting all around her. People ran in every direction; car tires screeched and horns blew, adding to the confusion. A longer, harder tremor shook the earth and more columns split and fell, bursting apart as they fell onto each other.

Somewhere a car alarm started to blare.

When at last the tremors settled, and no more aftershocks kicked up through the ground, Jasmine sat up. The rotunda was in ruins. It looked exactly as it had the day she met Ford.

Ford. She had to find Ford.

“Excuse me,” Jasmine called out to the jogger who had been shouting at her before—probably warning her to take cover. He was unharmed, except for a scrape on his cheek. “What—what day is it?”

He was middle-aged, a little paunchy. He kind of reminded
her of her dad, except for the jogging-gear part. “Are you hurt? Did you hit your head?” He came to her side, knelt next to her.

“I’m fine,” Jasmine said, and stood up as if to prove it. “I promise. It’s … it’s Saturday, right?”

The jogger nodded, squinting. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Jasmine waved him off. “I promise. I guess I just got shaken up.” She let out a laugh and walked quickly away from him, weaving through debris, before he could ask her any more questions.

So. Her intuition was correct. It was Saturday now, the day of the earthquake. That meant she had two days before she would meet Ford at the rotunda. Would he be there again? Would he recognize her this time? Would she make it two full days without time hopscotching around? Somehow, she doubted it.

Ingrid had confirmed what Jasmine had begun to suspect in Pyralis, that she
was
part Executor. Which meant Luc was, too. And now that she knew the truth, did that make her and Ford enemies? Wasn’t that what he’d said the first time she confronted him?
We both know we’re on different sides
. He had killed one Executor already, and had probably killed others before.

But she couldn’t lose Ford. He was her only ally. No one else understood. She had to make sure that in two days she would meet Ford and know that he could help her.

She needed to leave herself a clue. But where? Fort Point? Should she leave herself a clue where they had
spent the night together? But that wouldn’t work, because how would she know to go there?

Another rumble shook the ground. Shit. She stood with her feet planted firmly apart and waited for it to pass.
Think, Jasmine. Where would you look?

Then, in a flash, she understood. Here, at the rotunda. The note in the secret room.

Jas stumbled through the mess of concrete and branches. The air was filled with choking white dust and screaming sirens and panicked voices. She carefully picked her way to the hollow column that hid the secret stairway.

Dim light streamed down the steps. The shadows lengthened as she got near the bottom; it was so full of dust here, it was almost impossible to breathe. She slid her hand along the cool brick until a break in the wall indicated that the main room was right there. As she stepped into the room, she saw that part of the ceiling had collapsed. A bit of sunlight filtered through, casting a crazy array of shifting shadows.

Chills washed over her skin, and she rubbed her arms. The Executors had found her here twice. It wasn’t a good idea to hang around. The girl had said more would come in her place until the task had been completed. Until Jasmine was dead.

A low rumble started under her feet and grew in intensity until the dishes in the cabinet on the wall fell and smashed into pieces. Jas darted to the doorway and braced her hands against the sides. Another large chunk
of the ceiling fell and sent a blast of dust straight at her. She turned her face, felt the pressure of dust and plaster on her back.

She needed to do what she had to do and get out, before the whole frigging place caved in and she was buried alive. When the shaking subsided, she moved as quickly as she could into the small side room. In the nightstand, she found an envelope and a pen.

Find Ford. Ask him about Miranda
.

It wasn’t much. But it was enough.

She reached the top of the stairs just as a terrible noise began deep under the earth and seemed to claw its way to the surface. Everything shook, a harder aftershock than any of the previous ones. Jasmine hurtled through the doorway just as what remained of it collapsed behind her. Before she could react, a flash of light filled her vision and now-familiar agony ripped through her head. She stumbled and fell to her knees.

Why does this keep happening to me?

When her vision finally cleared, she saw that the sun was just now breaking over the horizon again. It was dawn once again, as if she were in a badly edited film. But the ground was still, and police tape crisscrossed the whole area like a giant yellow spiderweb. Teams of volunteers moved silently around the area, bagging and shifting debris.

“Jas!”

Jasmine turned, and her heart squeezed and then opened. Ford. He was here, really here, skirting the piles
of rubble, his face twisted with concern. He was here and he knew her. Without intending to move, she crossed the distance between them and threw her arms around him. He pulled her close, holding her so tightly her feet lifted off the ground.

“I’ve gone crazy looking for you.” He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes and cupped her face with his hands. “You’re okay, right? I thought something had happened to you.” When she nodded, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. He was breathing hard, as if he’d been running through the whole city. “I’m—I’m sorry for leaving. You were asleep and … I just freaked out. I got halfway across the city before I realized what an idiot I was being. But by the time I made it back to the bridge, you were gone.”

Jasmine flipped back through her memories of the past few days. It must be Tuesday morning; the morning after Ford had vanished while she was asleep in his secret hideout. That meant the Executors hadn’t tracked her to the shelter yet. Ford hadn’t killed one of them. She hadn’t yet been brought to Pyralis. She thought of the tip of the girl’s knife breaking the skin on her chest and shivered.

She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” she blurted out. Her voice hiccupped and she tried to take a breath. She didn’t know exactly what she was apologizing for, but she knew she had gotten Ford mixed up with something very bad. And she was not like him. She didn’t know
what
she was anymore. “I—I don’t know what’s happening to
me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Or—I do know. There
is
Executor in my blood. My grandfather was an Executor. You’ve known that all along, haven’t you?” Ford nodded.

Jasmine swallowed. “That’s why—that’s why you said we were on different sides, isn’t it?”

He made a sound, sort of a groan deep in his throat. His free hand rose and curled around the back of her neck. He pulled her closer, slow enough that she had time to stop him, but she didn’t. “I don’t care what I said,” he whispered. His voice was low and hoarse and it sent butterflies dancing along her skin. His lips were so close to hers she could feel his breath skim across them. Suddenly, everything around them disappeared from her mind and it was only the two of them.

She slid her hand slowly up and stopped just over the frantic heartbeat in his chest. Heat radiated between them; the air felt charged. His thumb brushed her earlobe as he drew her even closer, and every cell in her body came alive, focusing on that one spot.

He closed the last breath of space between them and his lips brushed hers. It was like being struck by lightning. Jasmine wrapped both her arms around him, pulling him as close as possible.

Ford held her tightly and deepened the kiss, and a new hunger rose inside her. In her mind she could see millions of stars spinning out of control, suns exploding, comets with fiery tails hurtling through galaxies. She ached to be one of them, wild and free and out of control.

Ford finally pulled back with a gasp and rested his forehead on hers. His breathing was harsh and loud. When he opened his eyes, Jasmine swore she could see the same cosmic chaos swirling around in them.

“I won’t leave you again, I promise. And I won’t let anyone hurt you. As long as I’m able, I
will
keep you safe. Okay?” Ford kissed her again, softly this time.

A lingering warmth replaced the fire in her blood. Nothing in her life had ever felt this perfect before. She wanted to stay right there, in that moment, in Ford’s arms.

“Remember how I told you last night about the time shifts?” Jasmine asked, and Ford nodded. “It’s getting worse. More frequent. Bigger, too. I went back forty years. I met my grandmother.…” Ford’s eyes widened. Jasmine rushed on, “I’m scared, Ford. I’m worried I’ll get lost. Or stuck. Do you think this has to do with the Unseen Ones?” The Executor had said that the Unseen Ones managed everything in the universe. They
must
be responsible.

But Ford frowned. “That’s not how it works. The Unseen Ones control the fates of all the creatures in the universe. But even they can’t control the flow of time.”

Jasmine wasn’t convinced. What other explanation was there? Unless … unless it was some kind of weird effect because she’d used the Flower of Life, or whatever the Executor had called it.
You can feel it inside, can’t you?
the girl had said.
The way you’ve changed
.

But Jasmine didn’t want to believe it. Did that mean
she would keep bouncing through time forever, like some cosmic pinball?

“Do you know where to find them?” Jasmine asked. “The Unseen Ones,” she prompted, when Ford looked at her blankly.

“I only know
of
them.” He looked away, squinted. “The Unseen Ones are everywhere and nowhere.”

“That sounds like a riddle,” Jasmine said, getting impatient.

“Sorry.” He reached out and touched her face again; then his expression hardened. “If I knew where to find the Unseen Ones—if I could get to them—I would. I swore after they destroyed an innocent life, that I would take revenge.” Bitterness laced his words. He looked angry. Wild.

“Someone you knew?” asked Jasmine quietly. She knew the answer already, had seen it in the pain and loss in his eyes.

He didn’t look at her. “A girl. A human girl who didn’t deserve to die simply because
they
decided it. They sent an Executor.…”

Jasmine couldn’t meet his eyes anymore. “I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t anything you have to be sorry for. It was a long time ago.”

She could tell from his tone of voice: He had loved the girl. She felt a brief flare of jealousy, and then immediately felt guilty, and then angry with herself. What kind of person was she, to be jealous of someone who was dead? Especially at the hands of someone just like her.

He had kissed her, saved her life, and yet there was a part of him that someone else had known. It made her feel … strangely alone. She had the sudden overwhelming urge to turn and run away as fast as she could. “I’m sorry,” she said again, at a loss for what else to say.