I slept soundly for the first few hours before time tugged and pulled until it unraveled. I resisted, lying there on the ground in Nash's arms. No matter how tightly I clung to him, I slipped in and out all night while he slept. Every time I drifted off, I dreamed of another time, or lived it. I couldn’t say whether I was awake or not.

Most came in snippets, like of my father when I was young and we were best friends. Later when we weren’t. So many things I didn’t want to remember about my time before the mountain.

“Get up, Max."

I moaned and covered my eyes with my arm. We'd meditated so late into the night. It couldn't be time to get up already.

"Max." Dad shook my shoulder. "Come on, Maxy girl."

"It's still dark out." The palest of blues lit the window. The sun had not yet crested the hill overlooking our cottage. "All the other kids in the village get to sleep until the sun comes up."

"You're not the other kids. They don't have what you have."

I didn’t really understand what that was. I’d been going to our Prophet my entire life. While my friends ran through the summer fields, I was stuck kneeling, and praying, and growing the flame inside me.

"Soon you'll be eleven. The Prophet wants to test you before your birthday. You aren't ready. You'll fail as you are now."

I rolled over, twisting myself right out of the past. But I didn’t even have time to steady myself before I was falling headlong again.

The old Prophet’s face flooded my vision. Not the Prophet of the Valley who’d taken over my future, but the Prophet of my past, from across the sea where wild meadows and endlessly flat plains comprised the world as we knew it, the Prophet who’d taken me to live with him in his temple that day when Dad told him I was hiding my power.

That Prophet’s bright eyes stared into mine. And I was lost again.

"Do it, Max."

I turned my face away so I couldn't see Dad or the Prophet. "I told you I can't."

"Can't?" Dad slapped the back of his hand against his palm so loud it made me flinch. "You can do much more, Max. We need you. Your power can set the people free from the blasphemers who bring the gods' judgment upon us."

The Prophet hadn't yet spoken. Often he didn't. Instead he walked to me, lifted my chin, and made me look into his eyes. "Now."

With no hesitation, Dad unholstered his knife and placed it at his throat. He gave me only a second to think before he pushed against the blade and drew a bead of blood. Determination hardened his expression. He shifted, ready to slice his own throat.

I screamed and twisted my wrist, my power ripping the blade free of his grip and throwing it against the far wall.

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He reached for his sword next but I squeezed my hands into fists and focused on his arms so they were tethered in place. Dad struggled but couldn't move. Why would he do this?

Why?

The flame erupted like a volcano in my body. Blind, panicked power ripped at the boundaries of my every vein.

"Max." The Prophet's voice strained. It was only then I realized he was using his own power to hold mine back. "You must breathe, child. Your power is out of control."

But as concern spread over the face of the Prophet, my father only smiled.

I grabbed a hold of the world the moment I could and jerked up. My skin was hot. Slick with sweat.

I stared at Nash, wishing it was the day time and he was awake. Wishing he could say something, anything to distract me. I couldn’t hold onto my time. I just couldn’t.

Stumbling up, I walked as quietly for the pool as I could and splashed my face with water, shaking from head to toe. I was heading back to the day. It felt as inevitable as when I’d first lived it. Dad training me until the Eclipse. Until the day that changed everything. I couldn’t go back there. I couldn’t.

I gripped the back of my neck and walked briskly back and forth near the pool.

“Don’t slip,” I whispered. “Don’t slip. Don’t slip. Don’t slip.”

But I did. I lost track of how many times I relieved sleepless nights with Dad and my endless days with the Prophet honing my power. My medicine would have stopped this, or at least, lessened it. But I was alone. All alone, trapped in the past, until it released its hold on me so the future could steal me away.

Above me, the moon had nearly consumed the sun.

Pain consumed me. My head fell and I opened my eyes to my bound ankles. Strands of blood rushed down my legs. I would die here. I would die during the eclipse.

A crowd spilled out over every inch of the courtyard before me. Their screams tore into my mind. “Kill! Kill! Kill!” The voices swirled about me. Growing. "Kill the demon!"

Stepping back, the Prophet of the Valley raised up his bloodied spear of a staff against the dark sky. Black dripped from its tip.

I jolted up, gasping, back in the cave. Nash knelt beside me, grabbing my arm. "Are you okay?"

I must have fallen asleep at some point because I sat on the ground near the pool.

"Did you faint again?" he asked.

“No. I couldn’t sleep." That day that had not yet come to pass clung to me and made me feel sick. I struggled to speak. "I wanted to walk… And then I got tired… So I slept here.”

Nash looked skeptical. “Yeah?”

I nodded. I had to get out of this tunnel. Had to get off this damn mountain. “Let’s just go.”

Nash studied my face. "Why don't you sleep just a little more." He slid his arms around me and hugged me tight, settling down against the ground with me. “I’ll wake you up when we need to leave.”

I felt desperate to melt into him, but I remembered the feeling of dying and thought of how soon the eclipse would arrive. How would he feel once I died? How would it feel to get any closer? I started to push him away when he whispered in my ear.

"I've got you. It's okay. Sleep. I won't let go."

Maybe even though Nash didn't have any power, couldn't control time or space, maybe he did have something else. Because I should have slipped again and didn't. It was as if he held me in place.