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“No, Harte, listen. I saw what was written in that diary, the same as you. And as much as I want to ignore it, we can’t.”

“I’m not going to kill you,” he told her. “I couldn’t.”

“You could,” she said softly. “The words on that diary page prove it’s a possibility, however unlikely it might feel.”

His brows snapped together in frustration. “I’m not having this discussion. We are going to make it out of this tonight, and we’re to make it out together.”

“I hope so,” she told him. The sureness in his voice had brushed away some of the icy dread clinging to her. “But I trust you, Harte. I know that you wouldn’t hurt me. If you killed me in some version of tonight, you must have had a reason, and that reason must have been an outcome worse than my death.”

“There is no worse outcome for me than your death,” he told her.

He was wrong. She’d seen it herself, hadn’t she? She’d seen futures more terrible than death, and she’d felt a terrifying nothingness that waited as a possibility lodged in time.

Esta fought back the tears that threatened. “I feel the exact same way, Harte. But whatever happens in there, I need you to promise me that you’ll do whatever you have to in order to keep Nibsy from winning. Especially if he tries to take my affinity.”

Harte went very still. “How could he?”

“If he got hold of the sigils—” She stopped. It felt too dangerous even to utter it out loud. But she’d seen the world as it would be if the Brink fell.

“We have Viola,” Harte reminded her. “Nibsy won’t get anywhere near you or those discs.”

Esta leaned her head on his shoulder. “All I’m saying is that if everything goes wrong and if there is no other option, you should do whatever you need to do to keep him from winning.”

“He can’t win if he’s dead,” Harte said.

“But you can’t kill him,” Esta reminded him. “Even if I’m about to die. Even if everything else is falling apart. If there’s any chance at all that you or the others can get away, there has to be someone to send the girl forward to. Or it will doom everyone.” She glanced at him. “Unless you know?”

Harte was frowning at her. He shook his head slightly.

It meant that there was a good chance that the fate they’d read in Nibsy’s diary would be realized tonight. It felt impossible. How could she believe Harte would ever hurt her, much less kill her outright? Unless…

A thought occurred to her then, one that she’d been trying to ignore ever since she’d read those words written in Nibsy’s own hand. There were fates worse than dying. She’d seen the possibility of a world torn apart. She also remembered the pain and terror of nearly being torn apart herself when she’d originally brought the Book to Professor Lachlan and he’d tried to take her affinity to control it.

There had been a reason Professor Lachlan had wanted them to return to the past. Maybe it was because the diary had shown him how to win.

“There might not be a choice,” she whispered, horrified at the thought of it. “If we’re not successful tonight, if Nibsy somehow gets the upper hand…” She couldn’t bring herself to finish that statement. “It might be the only way to stop him.”

Confusion shadowed Harte’s expression. “What, exactly, are you saying, Esta?”

“The diary,” she told him. “Maybe it doesn’t show the worst-case scenario. If he managed to get control of the Book, or worse… control over my power? Maybe it isn’t Nibsy who has to die tonight. Maybe it’s me.”

“No,” Harte said. “I refuse to believe that’s possible. It’s not going to happen. I won’t allow that to happen.”

“Harte…” She closed her eyes, because she couldn’t look at him, not when she asked this of him. “If Nibsy is about to win—if the worst has happened and he somehow manages to get control of my affinity—you have to take me out of the equation.”

“No, Esta—”

“We cannot allow Nibsy to control the Book,” she said, her mind spinning furiously. “Ever since that day in the library, I’ve been trying to figure out why the Professor would have wanted us to come back here. I knew there had to be a trap of some sort. I knew he had to have some bigger plan. Maybe it’s been right in front of us the whole time. He needs my power to control the Book. It’s possible he’ll find a way to get it.”

“I would kill him first,” Harte vowed.

“But you can’t. The girl has to go forward, or everything we’ve been through—all that we’ve done and all that we’ve lost—will have been for nothing. If she goes forward, we still have a chance to start again. If she goes forward, maybe in another time line there’s some other possibility where we do win. But if that girl doesn’t go forward, or if there’s no one waiting to send her back, then it’s over.”

A heavy silence filled the carriage before Harte responded.

“You’re not actually asking me to kill you, Esta?” he asked, his voice straining with emotion. He pulled away from her. “Absolutely not.”

“If everything is falling apart, you might have to, Harte,” she told him. “Nibsy cannot be allowed to control the Book with my affinity. He cannot be allowed to have that kind of power. If he has me, if I’m going to die anyway, then take the possibility of victory away from him. It would be a mercy.”