until the owner came home even though it was starting to snow. But Robin had no problem letting himself into my space—including my bathroom while I was naked in the tub—so fair was fair.
I climbed the stairs and moved into his living area and then through it toward the magic artifact room. The hourglass full of purple sand sat on his desk as though it were waiting for me. My heartbeat accelerated and without conscious thought, my feet carried me across the floor and over to the desk.
The sands of time. How did they work? And where had he gotten them from? And would I really be able to keep the accident from happening?
“What are you doing, lamb?”
I spun around and put a hand over my heart. “You scared me.”
He studied my face. “You weren’t thinking of traveling back now, were you?”
“Why not?” I raised my chin. “We struck a bargain. It seems to me that I ought to be able to go back whenever I want.”
His blue eyes glittered. “And what if you do something unintentional when you go back? Without completing your training, you wouldn’t know how to undo it.”
“What training?” I threw my hands up in frustration. “So far all you’ve taught me is that people waste time and are too preoccupied with their own lives to question random changes. It’s starting to feel as though I’m taking your course in mortal bashing 101.”
The light in the room flickered and the tree shook. Was it an earthquake? In the mountains of North Carolina? Whoever heard of that? It took me a moment to realize the house was responding to his dark mood. His blond brows pulled down over the bridge of his perfect nose. He snapped his fingers and the tree stilled.
“Lesson three,” he said. “Mortals are unfailingly impatient. To their detriment.”
He held out a hand and after a long moment, I gave him the hourglass. He took it back to the desk, placed it in the box, and shut the lid.
He ran a hand through his hair. “Believe it or not, I’m trying to help you. I want you to get everything you want out of your three trips back and nothing else because, lesson four,” he paused for dramatic effect.
I rolled my eyes. “Lay it on me.”
“Lesson four, when the faery dust hits the fan, everyone looks for someone else to blame.”
“You’re basically teaching me about human nature, not time travel.” I sagged into one of the carved chairs in front of his desk.
He leaned back against his desk and crossed one long leg over the other. “That’s right. I am.”
“But why?” What could one possibly have to do with the other?
“Because to successfully travel through time, you need to understand human nature. Would you like deaths on your head? How about unintentionally causing your own?”
My lips parted. “You said when we went back earlier that it wasn’t dangerous.”
He nodded. “That’s right. It’s not dangerous to go back a single hour. But we’re talking about something bigger than that. You want to reverse something that happened over two decades ago. That’s a long slog against the current. Do you have a plan as to how to enact the change you desire?”
I closed my eyes and recalled the scene as vividly as if it had happened yesterday. “I have to keep from getting in that car.”
“But how, Joey? Will you kill the driver?”
My mouth dropped open at the suggestion. “What? No! I could never kill anyone.”
His fingers drummed on the edge of the desk. “Then maybe tamper with the car. Steal the distributor cap so it won’t start?”
I nodded. “Okay, that sounds good.”
“And what if the vehicle’s owner sees you and calls the police? How will you identify yourself?”
I opened my mouth to answer that the people in town knew me. But they wouldn’t. In 1996, Joey Whitmore was a teenage gymnast. I couldn’t use my own name.
Robin continued to drive his point home. “Who will you call for bail? Your father?”
“Of course not.” Then a thought occurred. “Wait. Won’t I come forward to this time again after I prevent the accident?”
Robin shook his head as though dealing with a difficult child. “Again, too much television. No, Joey. Though the moment you wish to change is pivotal to you, it is meaningless to the space-time continuum. Don’t you recall what I told you would happen earlier?”
“That we would reabsorb our echoes and they would get our memories of the extra time that we had.”
Robin folded his