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Esta suspected that North had taken them back a few hours, to the night before the train arrived, but she didn’t know when the news of their impending arrival might have been sent to the marshals in town. There was no telling who might be watching for them. Before, she might have wrapped them in the cloak of her own affinity, but now she didn’t dare risk using her magic again. Not until she understood why Seshat’s darkness could touch her apart from Harte. After all, Esta knew too well what the darkness could do.

Trains derailed.

Elevator cables snapped.

Holes big enough to swallow horses split the ground.

It was more than bad luck. Seshat’s ability to pull apart the Aether around them and unmake the order of existence was like Esta’s own power, but stronger. Infinitely more potent.

“How far back did you take us?” she asked North.

“About six hours,” he said with another pained groan.

It wasn’t much time. Not nearly enough to get clear of the danger the marshals posed, even if North hadn’t been injured.

“We need to get going,” Esta told the two of them, hoping that her voice didn’t give away her worry.

Thankfully, Esta didn’t have to do more than support North’s weight as they made their way toward the oil fields, where the enormous rigs stood like sentries against the night. The fields were two, maybe three hundred yards away, but they might as well have been in another country, especially since North seemed to be moving more slowly with each step.

Finally, they reached the edges of the oil fields and found an abandoned rig that had a small shed leaning close to its base. Inside, it smelled of dust and mold and a hint of something mechanical, but it was clear no one had been there for a while. The roof was only partially clinging to the walls, and moonlight streamed in from above, lighting the small space. Esta tried to help ease North down, but his legs went out from under him and he crumpled to the ground instead.

Maggie knelt next to him and started pulling away his jacket and shirt to see the wound beneath, but she went still when she exposed the small, jagged hole in his abdomen. She looked up at Esta with horror. “He needs a doctor.”

Esta took one glance at the wound, ragged and still oozing blood, and knew the truth—a wound like that? A doctor wouldn’t be able to help. Even if a doctor cleaned and bandaged him, the bullet would still be inside of North, and Esta knew that a shot to the gut like that one wouldn’t heal. Without modern medicine, it would be a painful infection that would take North, rather than the loss of blood.

“No doctors,” North said.

“Hush,” Maggie whispered. “We’ll find someone to get the bullet out of you and stitch you up and you’ll be fine. We’re going to take care of you.”

North’s eyes were steady on Esta, and she knew he understood. But she certainly wasn’t going to be the one to tell Maggie, so she settled for the other reason. “He’s right,” Esta said. “You saw that posse. They rode out nearly at dawn. Chances are they’re already expecting us. Finding a doctor would only bring them faster.”

“I’d rather be in jail than know I could’ve tried to save him and didn’t,” Maggie told Esta.

Esta saw the determination in Maggie’s eyes, but she knew the truth. “Why do you think we’d even make it to jail?” Esta asked softly.

“No doctor,” North said again through gritted teeth. “No one’s gonna be able to help me anyway.”

“You don’t know that,” Maggie argued.

“I do,” North said, grimacing again. He was looking worse now, paler, and his breathing seemed more ragged. “You two need to go while you can. It’s not much, but six hours should give you a little room to get ahead of the marshals.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” said Maggie, her voice cracking as she met Esta’s gaze. “I won’t leave him like this.”

“Six hours won’t make enough of a difference anyway,” Esta agreed, her mind already furiously racing.

“You can’t stay here,” North told them.

“I won’t just sit here and watch you die,” Maggie said, stubborn as ever. “And I’m not leaving you behind.” She glared at Esta, daring her to contradict this.

“We’re not going to leave anyone behind,” Esta told Maggie, pacing a little as she tried to think of some way out of the mess they were in. Absently, her fingers went to the scar at her wrist, and as she traced over the words, she had an idea. “We could use your formulations,” she told Maggie.

“I don’t have anything to heal a wound like that,” Maggie said, stone-faced.

“Not to heal the wound,” Esta said. “But maybe with a big enough distraction, we can get out of here and save North all at once.”

“No,” North told them. “You two need to go. It’s too late for me.”

“You of all people should know there’s no such thing as too late,” Esta told him. “But if we’re lucky, maybe we’ll be right on time.”