Chaos (Lanie Bross) - Lanie Bross Page 0,70

flower grow again. That’s what keeps the universe in balance, and balance is a gift from the Unseen Ones. Blood for blood and a life for a life.”

Luc froze. Dread pooled in his stomach. Blood for blood. A life for a life. Corinthe had picked the flower, but she had not used it for herself. She had given the flower’s nectar to Jasmine. Corinthe had died and Jasmine had lived. Would he have to choose between them in order to satisfy the Unseen Ones?

If he saved Corinthe, did that mean the Unseen Ones would keep sending Executors to try to kill Jasmine? Was it some kind of sick rebalancing act? Had the Executors been after Jasmine, not him, all along?

He knew immediately that it was true. He felt it. Jasmine would never be safe while Corinthe was alive.

Unless …

Unless he could find a way to go back to the beginning, before everything started, before Jasmine was taken, before Corinthe received her final task.

He felt a swinging sense of nausea. That meant going back to the tunnels.

Impulsively, Luc touched Corinthe’s shoulder. “Whatever you do, don’t stop asking questions.”

Corinthe frowned, then nodded. Her eyes were now the color of a swirling thunderstorm.

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,