PART ONE: ANACHRONISM

Chapter LXXV: The Woman In The Mirror

Nick's uncle was a surgeon at the city hospital. It took a lot less time and a lot less hassle than I thought it would for him to perform the surgery. Nick talked his uncle a few times before they got me into the hospital for an x-ray. I hadn't fully believed my dad's story until Doctor Hamersley showed me the photographs. It was there, a circle of white lodged just below the ghostly lines of my rib cage. The Senturiel really was inside of me.

I expected to Skip away before the surgery could take place. I figured the Senturiel would want to remain in my stomach, continuing to torment me for the rest of my life. With each passing day, as I waited for the scheduled date of the surgery to arrive, my fear grew. What if I did stay in Ohio long enough to undergo the surgery? What if something went wrong? Was the Senturiel planning something? What if I Skipped on the operating table? What if I winded up on Ravenhill with my stomach sliced open? Would I just bleed out until the Skips took me home? What if, despite out warnings, one of the medical staff accidentally touched the Senturiel? Would they Skip to Middle Earth? Would they become the new Skipper? Would the burden of saving Middle Earth from my mistakes fall on them? Would they even care enough to try to save Middle Earth? What if I never got to go back?

The questions circled in my head, round and round, until the moment where I was sitting in the hospital, in my green gown, waiting for the anesthesia to take effect. As I slipped into unconsciousness, my last thought was: "I want to see Middle Earth again."

As the world faded away, images began to form in my mind. At first, they were scattered. Crashing waves. Gray sky. Thin trees. Jagged rocks. White cliffs. Then, slowly, the images started to knit together. A woman in a red dress stood on the edge of the white cliffs, looking out over the churning ocean. Her long, golden curls coiled around her pale face, while the hem of the red dress whipped about her ankles, struggling against the wind. She was barefoot, her toes covered in grime as they curled around the white stones of the cliff. A metal key hung a necklace, the metal chain jarring and garish against her pale throat and elegant dress.

And that's when I saw her face for the first time, and I realized that was me standing on the cliff. Not the current me. She was older: her face thinner, her hair longer, and her eyes sharper.

I was dreaming. Definitely dreaming. It was one of those out-of-body dreams that I'd heard Bonnie talk about. I wasn't standing in any particular spot in the dream, but rather, I was everywhere all at once. I could see the gray waves of the sea crashing over the rocks. I could see the spindly trees, their branches scattered with young leaves, reaching towards the sky. I could see this future version of me, her mouth moving around soundless words as her hand raised to touch the black key that hung from her neck.

Was the dream trying to tell me something? That was the first thought that popped into my head. After all, my dreams were usually incoherent messes; I don't think I'd ever seen a scene so clearly before. I could see every detail from the red marks the chain had left on her neck to the blisters on the ankles of her bare feet.

Her blue eyes lifted to the sky…and she jumped off the cliff.

God, damn it.

I had enough problems on my plate. I was undergoing surgery for God's sake! I didn't have time to worry about what bad decisions my future self was making. In fact, she—

My eyes snapped open.

Before, I would have imagined waking from surgery to be a slow, groggy experience, and maybe it was for other people, but for me, I jerked awake and was greeted by a world of pastels. The ceiling and bed sheets were white, but everything else from the walls to the curtains to my gown had been colored in varying shades of Easter. I'm sure the colors were supposed to be reassuring to patients, but all they did was make me want to hurl. I made a mental note to tell Doctor Hamersley to change the décor.

The feeling of nausea passed, and I was left with only a slight pain in my stomach. All in all, the after effects of surgery could be much worse.

I lay on my back, staring up at the white ceiling, and wondered how long it would be before the Skips would take me back to Middle Earth. Then, slowly, it dawned on me that there would be no more Skips. At least, no more Skips against my will. The Senturiel was gone. Nick's uncle had removed it…or at least, I hoped he removed it. I was gripped by a sudden, intense fear that the surgery had gone wrong, and the Senturiel was still inside me. Maybe that's what my dream had been about. Future me had finally had enough of the Senturiel.

"Ana, are you awake?"

At the sound of the familiar voice, I tipped my head to the side to see that my mom sat in the bedside chair. Her blonde hair had been pulled back into a bun and she wore a simple sweater and jeans.

"Yeah." I tried to sit up, but the sharp pain in my abdomen grew to unimaginable proportions. "Arhck!" I sunk back onto the bed. "Not a good idea."

"Take your time," said Mom.

Once the pain had subsided back to a dull ache, I turned to her and asked, "The Senturiel? Where is it? Did they get it out? Did they touch it? What happened?"

"Slow down," said Mom with a small smile. "You'll overexert yourself that way. Your dad is getting something for you at home, but he'll be back shortly. Doctor Hamersley got the Senturiel out. He listened to us and ensured that no one touched the stone. He's was skeptical but he listened to Nick." She hesitated and then extended a hand to point to the bedside table. "It's there."

My gaze shifted to the plastic, white table. Resting on the smooth surface was my cellphone, an emesis basin, a book, and a Ziploc bag. The plastic bag seemed so commonplace, so forgettable, and yet inside, I could see a glittering red jewel about the size of my thumbnail. It wasn't a smooth cut stone, but small and a little rough around the edges. If I looked closely, I could see that it was kind of pretty.

Completely forgetting that I'd just had surgery, I sat upright in the hospital bed, grabbed the Ziploc bag, and threw it onto the floor.

The gemstone landed with dull clang against the white tiles.

"What are you doing?" cried Mom.

I felt the overwhelming urge to scream. I wanted to jump out of the bed and stomp on the Senturiel, grind it into the tiles until it became nothing more than fine red powder. Until it was unrecognizable, unusable, and gone. I fucking hated that thing.

My stomach heaved. I grabbed the emesis basin from the bedside table and emptied the contents of my stomach into it—which wasn't much, since all I'd consumed was the IV drip.

Pain shot through my stomach, but this time, I welcomed it. The pain only incited my anger. I placed the basin back on the bedside table as my body fought against the pain.

"What are you doing?" asked Mom. There was a note of impatience in her voice. "You'll overwork yourself."

"I hate it." My breath came in ragged pants. "I hate that thing. Get it out of my sight."

Mom didn't move. We both stared at the Ziploc bag on the floor, the red gemstone inside reflecting the lights of the hospital room.

"It ruined my life," I hissed. "All the things I wanted to do—go to school, fall in love, get a job—it took them away from me. And instead it brought me to a world of darkness and war. I've seen so many people die—I almost died—and for what? What does that thing want from me? I don't know. I just want it gone."

The Senturiel sat on the floor, lifeless just like any other rock. Mom picked up the Ziploc bag by the corner, careful not to touch anywhere near the Senturiel. She started towards the trashcan, but before she could drop the Ziploc bag, I cried, "Don't!"

Mom stared at me. When I met her eyes, I knew she'd never had any intention of throwing away the Senturiel. She'd done this on purpose.

"Damn it." I covered my face with my hands. My throat burned, my abdomen was tense with pain, and my head was spinning. What did I want? "I hate it." I didn't know if my mom could hear my voice through my hands. "I hate that rock. But it's mine."

"I know." Mom gently placed the Ziploc bag back on the bedside table. Then, she returned to her seat. Her blue eyes lifted to me, and I saw the sadness in them. She seemed on the verge of tears. "It's given you so much too."

I nodded.

Mom's gaze slowly dropped to the floor. Her hands were folded in her lap and her shoulders were hunched. She seemed to be making herself smaller. It was so different from how my mom usually held herself. She was usually proud and fierce, a presence that was hard to ignore, but now, she kept her head bowed.

I turned away from her. I couldn't bear to look at her anymore. I'd already decided. When I'd listened to my dad's story about his life in Bree and his discovery of the Senturiel, I'd made up my mind.

"I want to tell you not to go," said Mom. She wasn't looking at me as she spoke. "The Senturiel is gone now. You're free. You don't have to go anywhere." She took a deep breath. "But I know you won't listen. I've known for months now that I would lose you to Middle Earth. I knew…but still, I'd hoped that when we could finally tell you the truth, you would choose us. You would choose this world."

What could I say? What words of comfort could I offer her? My parents had lied to me for most of my life. Even when they'd seen how much the Senturiel tormented me, they'd said nothing. The one bond that could've held me to this world had been stretched to the point of breaking.

I lifted up a hand to my throat, searching for comfort, but the metal chain was not there.

My heart skipped a beat and I sat upright. The bedside table was empty. Had it fallen? Had I lost it? Where was it?

"What are you looking for?" asked Mom. "Calm down. You'll make yourself sick again."

"My necklace. The locket. The one I got from Thorin. Where is it?"

Mom frowned. "You gave it to me before the surgery, don't you remember?"

"What?"

"It was after the anesthesia," said Mom with a sigh. "You couldn't wear it into surgery, so you gave it to me for safekeeping." She reached into her purse and pulled out the necklace. The golden locket, still in perfect condition, dangled at the end of chain, swinging from side to side.

I took the locket from her, the chain cool against my fingers. I sunk back into the pillows and breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

The locket snapped open, and I stared at the white gemstone inside. I ran my finger across the stone; it was about the size of my thumbnail. I stared at the gemstone, and then, slowly, my gaze lifted to the Ziploc bag. No way. No freaking way. Such a coincidence didn't exist. No way.

I pressed on the white gemstone and watched as it popped out of the locket. I placed it carefully on the bedsheets. Then, I reached over and took the Ziploc bag off my bedside table.

"What are you doing?" asked Mom.

I shook my head. There were no words. I opened the Ziploc bag and emptied its contents onto the bedsheet. The red and white gemstones sat side by side, almost identical in size.

"No way…"

Careful to pick the Senturiel up using the sheet so that my skin didn't touch the surface stone directly, I wrestled the Senturiel into the slot of the locket. The stone clicked into place, and when I moved my hand away, the Senturiel stared back at me. I shut the locket, and the laced threads of gold covered the Senturiel so that hints of red flashed through the gap.

"What are you doing?" asked Mom again.

I held up the locket for her to see. It took me a moment to find my voice. "So, now, I can bring the Senturiel with me without it touching my skin. But if I ever need to Skip…" I flickered the locket open, and the Senturiel sat exposed.

Mom stared. "Didn't Thorin give that to you?"

Any answer died in my throat. I closed the locket again and stared at the Senturiel. I didn't understand. And the sense of foreboding that had formed in my chest told me that I didn't want to understand. It would be better for me if I remained in Ohio. I could have a normal life now. No more Skipping back and forth, eternally lost between two worlds. I could finish school, I could find a job I actually enjoyed, maybe even fall in love with a regular human boy. For the first time in seventeen years, I had control of my own life.

And there was only one choice I could make.

"I have to go, Mom," I said. "I have to go back."

She nodded. She turned away from me so I couldn't see the tears that trickled down her cheeks. "I know."

Brown leather riding boots—check. Dark colored pants—check. Long sleeved white shirt—check. Sports bra—check. Leather jacket—check. The Sword Breaker in right boot—check. Wearing as close as I can get to a Middle Earth outfit so every stranger I run into doesn't call me a witch—check.

I'd spent the last two weeks in my apartment, recovering from the surgery. Bonnie and Nick had taken it upon themselves to be my caretakers, and they visited every day. They even sat through 25th Anniversary Phantom of the Opera with me. Bonnie had cried halfway through, and I had to pause it. I had never seen Bonnie cry during a movie before.

My parents visited regularly. They tried to call on the days when they couldn't see me, but sometimes, when I saw "Mom" or "Dad" in the caller ID, I was filled with an immeasurable rage and refused to answer. I felt guilty as the call went to voicemail, and I called them back an hour or so later.

After my stomach had mostly healed, I'd begun the process of moving out of my apartment. Mom had been horrified when I'd first suggested moving out and selling my belongings. I'd told her I planned to return to Middle Earth, but I don't think she'd fully realized how permeant I intended that move to be. It was Dad who, in the end, convinced her that it was my choice. He refused to sell all of my belongings, but he did help my end my lease early and organize the moving.

My parents helped me carry cardboard boxes of my things out to the car. Almost all my possessions had been shipped out or sold, and I now stood in the bare bones of what had been my apartment. I felt as it looked—empty.

When I stepped out of my bedroom, clad in my Middle Earth attire, I saw my dad carrying down the next load of clothes. After hearing the story of how my dad came to Ohio, I now noticed the parts of him that were dwarven. He had always grown hair faster than normal men and was shorter and stockier than most humans. Now, he had a dark beard, carefully trimmed so that it looked acceptable in Earth, but I had little doubt that if he let it grow, he could have a curling beard that rivaled those of Company.

Catching sight of me, he paused halfway to the door. After a moment's consideration, he placed the box he was carrying on the sofa and turned to survey my clothes. "Not bad. Still strange for Middle Earth, but you can probably pass by."

"That bad?" I asked. "I tried not to wear any modern fabric."

"You are wearing pants," said Dad.

"Yeah. I get weird looks for that one." I hesitated. "Where's Mom?"

"Loading the trunk," said Dad.

A long pause filled the space between us. I remained rooted in the doorway of my now-empty bedroom unable to take a step forward. The dull anger sat in my chest, preventing me from opening my mouth and saying what ought to be said.

It was Dad who broke the silence. "Are you sure you will not return?"

"I don't know."

He nodded once. Of anyone, he could understand me best. He ad intended to turn to Bree after he Skipped, but something about this world and my mom had drawn him in until he could not bring himself to return to the world of his birth.

"You are my daughter," said Dad. "You'll always be my beloved daughter. The Middle Earth you have seen is very different from the Middle Earth I knew, but I understand your love of its lands all the same. Even if you choose you choose to dwell in the lands of my forefathers, you will still be my most beloved daughter."

Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes but with them came anger. I stared out the window of my apartment at the scattered, downtown office buildings. I wondered if I would ever see them again.

"I hope," said Dad, his voice soft and loving, "you will understand us one day."

"I hope so too."

There was a click and then the sound of a door opening. I glanced over my dad's shoulder to see my mom entering the apartment. She pushed the door shut behind her and just sort of stood on the doormat for a second, her blue eyes taking me in.

"Don't go," she said finally. "I know I'm being selfish, but, baby, please don't go."

Something in her pleading hardened my heart. "I'm going."

Mom wiped the corners of her eyes with the back of her left hand. "You'd better be back or I'm going to ground you for a lifetime."

"She'll be back for the coffee," said Dad with a wry smile. "Middle Earth does not have coffee. Lexie, do you think our daughter could survive in a world without coffee?"

I couldn't argue with this, so I added, "And they don't have tampons. How am I supposed to survive without tampons?"

Mom managed a weak smile at the two of us, while Dad looked scandalized by the mention of tampons. Suddenly, the concept of no return hit me. My chest felt tight, and I wanted this moment to never end. Forever standing in this empty apartment with my parents. I would be safe with them. But even as I imagined myself safe, the feeing cracked and fell away. My parents had lied to me all my life. They had watched me suffer and said nothing. There was no safety with them, not anymore.

"You're going to go see Bonnie and Nick?" asked Mom, ending the silence.

"Yeah. I'm going to have one last cup of coffee before I leave."

She nodded. "How's your stomach?"

Instinctively, my hand reached up to clutch the locket. My fingers ran over the laced gold. "Fine. I can't feel anything. Nick's uncle did a good job."

"Do you have to leave now?" asked Mom. "You could wait another day. Or another week. It doesn't make a difference."

Perhaps in the grand scheme of things, it wouldn't make a difference, but every second that I stayed in Ohio was another second that their deaths ate at me. And Thorin…the anger in his voice after I'd saved his life. I didn't understand. I needed to.

"No," I said. "I need to go now."

I stared at both my parents faces, drinking in the sight of them. Mom's golden blonde hair, Dad's warm, brown eyes, the silver necklace that hung around Mom's neck, Dad's short, dark beard. Dad who had brought me to his jewelry store and showed me the gemstones. Mom who had driven hours to my apartment to make dinner and eat ice cream with me after I'd been dumped. These were my parents who, despite their mistakes, had done their best to raise me.

"I love you both." I meant it. There was no forgiveness in me yet, but there was love.

I stood in the empty shell of my apartment. My parents had hit the road just fifteen minutes ag, my mom sobbing and my dad shedding silent tears. And now it was just me and my apartment.

I patted the kitchen counter.

"We've seen some good times, old pal," I said. "I probably haven't treated you as well as you deserved, but I want you to know, the fact that you put up with my mess for so long means a lot to me."

The counter, of course, was silent, and I moved to the empty living room.

"You've been great. I wish we could have stayed together longer. It's not you, it's me. I have to leave. I have something important to do."

To my surprise, I found myself tearing up. It was a rented apartment, and I always knew I'd have to give it up someday, but it had been a constant in my life of Skipping after I'd gone away to college. Even when I was fired from job after job and the world kept changing under my feet, I always had my messy apartment to return to.

"I'll miss you."

I opened the front door of my apartment and stepped out into the hallway. Tears blurred the edge of my vision.

"Ana?"

I had always known I had bad luck, but really this was a new kind of ill fortune. The exact moment I left my apartment, Jack had returned from grocery shopping. He stood outside his apartment, key in one hand and paper bags in the other, preparing to go inside.

"Hi," I said, dashing the unshed tears from my eyes. "What's up?"

"Are you alright?" asked Jack.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, trying and failing to prevent the sniffles. "I was just saying good-bye to my apartment."

"Are you leaving?"

I nodded. I closed the apartment door behind me and added, "For good."

For a second, Jack looked confused. Then, the corner of his mouth twitched into a smile and he grinned at me. "Well, I'll miss my neighbor—even if you're rarely here. Where are you moving to?"

"Somewhere far, far away," I said.

"Oh."

"Don't worry," I said. "It means that we won't have any of these awkward run-ins where the elephant in the room is so large that it suffocates both of us."

Jack winced, and I knew he was remembering our date where I'd disappeared in the middle. I barely remembered the date. Instead, I remembered the months after where he'd taken to avoiding me, calling me a liar when I'd tried to explain.

"I'm sorry," said Jack. "No one deserves to be treated like that."

"Don't worry about it," I said. "I'm over it. I've come to realize that you're not nearly crazy enough for me. It is impossible for me to date a guy that cannot accept the fact that a girl can travel to a different world. That's like the number one criteria on my list. No. Actually it's number two. Number one criteria is that he's hot."

Jack frowned, probably trying to come up with a good response.

But I didn't expect that of him. I expected nothing from him, I realized. I had given up on my dream of falling for regular guy long ago. I smiled at Jack. It was a genuine smile meant for the man who symbolized all my dreams for a normal life. "No worries. You've helped me a lot even if you don't know it. Have a nice life, Jack."

I left him standing in the hallway, and I didn't look back as made my way down the stairs.

"This might very well be the last coffee I will ever have."

I held the steaming cup of black coffee in my small hands. I let its warmth sink into my skin through the curved mug. I inhaled the heavy smell and felt comforted.

"I will miss you, my old friend. We have seen many an exam night together. We have seen many a dark morning together. We have brave the horrors of life together and we have survived them. I drink, now, as a toast to our long and substantial relationship." I lifted to hot drink to my lips and took a long gulp of coffee. I placed the cup back on the table. "Perfect."

"You're such a drama queen," said Bonnie.

"At least she knows how to appreciate coffee in style," said Raoul. He wiped his hands on his work apron and grinned. "I'm glad you came here for your possibly last drink of coffee."

"Well, I had to say good-bye to my work buddy, didn't I?" I said, grinning up at him.

"Where are you going?" asked Raoul.

"Somewhere far, far away," I said.

"That sounds like a fairytale," said Raoul, moving back to the coffee shop's kitchen. "Say hi to Shrek for me."

"Will do," I said, saluting him.

When Raoul had left, Bonnie, Nick, and Karen turned to me.

"Do you have to go?" asked Nick for what must have been the hundredth time.

"I'm not staying," I said.

"I never told you to stay. I told you to tell me why you have to go."

I shifted in my seat. I'd told Nick and Bonnie very little of my last days in Middle Earth. How does one begin to describe the pain and loss that filled my chest?

"No reason," I said. I search desperately for a distraction and settled on biscotti. "Oh look! They have biscotti! White chocolate and almond biscotti! That's to die for! Excuse me while I go buy some." I started to get up, but Bonnie grabbed my hand and pulled me back to my seat.

"Don't use biscotti as an excuse," she said.

I bit the inside of my cheeks. "This might be my last day on Earth and you're going to deprive me of a white chocolate and almond biscotti?"

"I'll buy your biscotti," said Karen. She got up and went to the counter, leaving me at the mercy of Nick and Bonnie. I wriggled uncomfortably in my seat.

"Explain," said Bonnie.

I could, of course, just open the locket, grab hold of the Senturiel, and it would take me away from here. But I didn't want to leave Bonnie and Nick on bad terms. They were my best friends. They had stood by me despite my odd disappearances, and they'd remained my friends even after I'd lost them in Middle Earth. I owed them the truth at least.

As I weighed out my options, Karen returned to the table with my biscotti. She settled back into her seat next to Nick and asked, "Is she finally going to tell us?"

Bonnie nodded and Nick leaned forward as though that might help him hear better. All three of them gazed at me intensely, waiting on edge for me to start talking.

I took my time. I dipped my biscotti into my coffee and had a bite—delicious. I took a sip of my coffee—even more delicious. I had another bite of biscotti. Then, I sighed and recounted the story as best I could. I took me several tries to talk about Fíli and Kíli's fates, and I started to cry when I told them about Gollum's victory over Frodo and Sam. As I reached the end of my story, my voice became quitter and quieter until finally, in little more than a whisper, I said, "I think the reason Frodo and Sam died is because Thorin lived."

"What?" Nick's head jerked up at this. "What does Thorin living have to do with anything involving the Fellowship? Aren't they in different timelines?"

I stopped speaking and stared into my half-drunk coffee. Doubt crept over me, and I wondered if I was wrong. Perhaps there was no saving Frodo and Sam. Perhaps they were doomed to die.

"Shut up, Nick," said Karen, elbowing her boyfriend in the ribs. "Let the woman talk." She met my gaze and offered me a warm smile. "Go on, Ana.'

I took a deep, shaky breath. I tried to send Karen a thankful smile, but I failed miserably. Instead, I focused on my explanation. "You remember what happened when I brought Boromir to Ohio? Everyone died because Boromir was not there to stop the orcs. I had to bring Boromir back and Boromir had to die to save the mission of the Fellowship. It had to happen. Some people are meant to die for the greater good. Boromir was willing to do that." I paused to take a sip of coffee. "I think Thorin is the same. I know he's supposed to die. Glóin almost told me at the Council of Elrond. I stopped Thorin from dying at the Battle of Five Armies and I think that's what caused Frodo and Sam to die this time."

"But don't these events happen decades apart?" asked Nick.

"They do," I said. "I'm not entirely certain myself. The link is tenuous at best, but…even the smallest thing can throw what is meant to be out of balance. The way the Senturiel showed it to me—it has to be. I saw Frodo and Sam almost to the mouth of the Orodruin, but then I saved Thorin's life, and they died at the foot of the mountain. Thorin living was the only thing that changed."

Nick and Karen exchanged puzzled glances.

"How did you work all that out?" asked Bonnie.

"How can you be sure?" asked Karen.

I stared at my coffee. I could still see the thin steam rising from the mug. It danced about in the air for a moment before vanishing altogether. I glanced up at my friends. "Because Thorin wanted to die."

An unsettling silence came to rest amongst us. At first, no one knew what to say. And then—

"You're insane. You are batshit insane," hissed Nick. "You're going to let him die because he wants to?"

"Nick," said Karen.

"It's insane," repeated Nick. "And don't give me any of your usual 'Well, I can always Skip back and change it' bullshit. You have no control over where you Skip. You have no guarantee that you can save him if that doesn't work."

"Nick." Karen placed a hand on his arm. "Nick, stop."

"Ana," said Bonnie. She had been watching me carefully, her eyes filled with concern. It was usually the other way around—Bonnie getting angry, and Nick worrying. Odd how during my last days on Earth, they managed to switch roles.

I wasn't just by Nick's words as much as I expected to be. Perhaps because I had already thought all those things about myself.

I took a sip of coffee and said in even tones, "Oh, I hate myself for this, don't worry. I would gladly jump off that cliff right now with no Senturiel if it meant I could save Middle Earth and avoid Thorin's death, but the world doesn't work like that. My life doesn't work like that. It took me awhile to understand how all this works. I thought I understood it when I saw Fíli and Kíli killed, but of course, I panicked when I saw Thorin. But I understand now. I get what I have to do. I get that I have to return to Middle Earth so I can let him die. And I know I won't be able to look at myself in a mirror after that, let alone see any of you ever again. I get it. So let me say good-bye to you while smiling and stop talking about what I'm about to do."

The looks on their faces were enough to shatter anyone's heart. I had to take another sip of coffee so I wouldn't have to look at them.

"Sorry," said Nick.

"You know we love you," said Bonnie.

"And we know you love Thorin," added Karen.

A slow smile spread on Nick's face. "Is my ship finally coming true? Are they finally realizing it?"

"Shut up," I said. "Our relationship is more complicated than that."

Nick leaned back in his seat and grinned at me. "I'm going to miss you, Ana."

"I'm going to miss you too," I said.

"You know what I'm not going to miss," said Bonnie. "Those awkward moments on a shopping trip where I'm talking to you about my life and I turn around and you're no longer there because you've Skipped away and in your place is this old woman who is staring at me like I'm crazy because I'm talking to thin air."

Karen laughed. "I've had those moments too."

"They suck," said Bonnie.

I grinned sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

I made sure the bathroom of the coffee shop was empty. No one in any of the stalls. Then, I turned to face the mirror. A short, scrawny, blonde woman stared back at me. Her blue eyes were pink and puffy and the nostrils of her small nose were inflamed by the constant Kleenex use.

I had seen this woman in the mirror many times before. Sometimes she looked tired. Sometimes she looked wild. Sometimes she looked sunburned. Sometimes she was smiling. Sometimes she was crying. This woman in the mirror—she was my constant companion and I knew her well. So why was a willing to place this burden on her? Why did I believe she was capable of watching Thorin die? What right had I to place this burden on her? This girl who was on the verge of tears even now. How much further did I think I could push her before she broke?

I reached out a hand and clutched the locket around my neck. The woman in the mirror did the same thing.

"Hey," I said.

The woman in the mirror moved her lips in time to me, but no sound came out.

"Hey," I said again. "We'll get through this."

I traced the locket's design with my thumb.

"It will work. We're doing the right thing. Thorin will forgive us. He has to."

I thumb flicked over the locket's clasp and it swung open. I lifted my head and grinned at myself in the mirror.

"Come on. In your dreams, you go cliff diving while wearing a red dress. This isn't anywhere near as scary as that."

I glanced down at the red gem fixed in place in the locket. This magic rock that had cause me so much suffering, and now I needed it to help me. Could I trust it? Probably not, but I didn't have any other options.

"Take me to the right place this time, please." I closed my hand over the Senturiel.

Skip.