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In my mind’s eye, I can see his hideous leering face, looming just a few steps away.

I don’t know how he managed it, but he definitely…

A wave of anxiety crashes over me, dragging me down until I’m swept away by the undertow of the past.

The duke is…

No.

The duke is in France—existing in a time that’s nearly two and a half centuries from where I currently stand.

Just breathe, Dr. Lucy once coached me. Whenever I find myself gripped by a panic like this, I’m to take a slow, deep breath, followed by another, and then another, until—

Slow, steady, and deep…Her soothing voice replays in my head. The duke is no longer a threat. He will never, ever, find you again.

Gradually, my pulse settles, and I realize it’s true.

But if not the duke, then who?

If it’s a Timekeeper, I know exactly what I must do.

Slowly, I edge my free hand into my pocket, wrap my fingers around the hilt of my dagger, then turn, weapon ready. I stare him square in the face, willing to fight till the end if that’s what it takes.

But the shocking sight that awaits me leaves me convinced my eyes must be playing some kind of trick. And for a fleeting moment, I’m sure it’s all part of the Unraveling/psychometry phenomenon.Maybe it hasn’t quite ended. Maybe—

But then I blink.

Once.

Twice.

And still, Braxton remains rooted in place.

62

My heart lurches at the sight of him.

My limbs ache to move toward him.

But my head is in charge, and it’s quick to remind me that Braxton is not the person I once thought he was.

I drag a slow gaze over his plain muslin shirt, the loose-fitting brown breeches he wears tucked into boots. Unlike the way Killian and I arrived, Braxton is dressed plainly, less like a noble and more like a commoner. A look that’s far safer for this particular timeline. A look that’s nearly identical to mine.

And yet, he wasn’t fooled by my boy’s disguise. Even before I turned to face him, he knew it was me.

But is that because he was expecting me—because he knew where to find me?

Considering how he lied about leaving Killian behind, I can only imagine what other secrets he might be hiding.

The silence grows, and I’m so torn between my head and my heart I can’t seem to find the right words, so Braxton speaks first.

“May I ask what you’re planning to do with that now that you’ve claimed it?” He nods toward the small silver ball I hold in my hand.

I swallow hard, my gaze narrowing on his. Worried he might make a grab for the Moon, I take what I hope to be an imperceptible step back. But the way Braxton’s jaw grinds, the way his mouth tugs down at the sides, I’m sure that he’s noticed.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

But Braxton ignores the question. With another nod toward the ball, he says, “Seriously, Tasha. What now—what will you do with it?”