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Marco grunted and muttered something under his breath I didn’t catch.
“How many strands will we need, Itzamna?” Ren was breathless.
“To make a rope strong enough for a round trip?” he said. “At least two.”
Ren gave a half-hearted smile. “I already lost one thread, and Zip said there’s only so much time magic to go around. I don’t know how many more are in the watch.” Ren held her wrist up to my glasses for Itzamna to see. “Do you?”
“Does it matter?” Hondo said, pacing. “We just have to make it work with however much we have.”
Itzamna took a shuddering breath. “Even under the best circumstances, time travel is not easy. It’s not like going through a gateway. It requires precision. Perfectly executed precision. And failure can spell disaster.”
“I’m in!” Hondo said with renewed energy.
Everyone else nodded and raised their hands—everyone except Marco, whose shifty eyes told me he was weighing the risks and rewards. “Wait,” he said. “Any chance I—we could get stuck in 1987?”
“A very good chance,” Itzamna said. “But that isn’t the only risk. You could get devoured. But even worse, you could disrupt the time continuum. You could do something in 1987 that would have consequences today. Dire consequences.”
“Like what?” Ren asked.
“No idea,” the god said. “Just avoid all people.”
Marco stuffed his fists into his pockets. “Even if we could get there, how do you plan to rescue the gods and get them back across thirty-plus years without anyone noticing?”
“One step at a time,” I said, not wanting to lose the momentum and hope we were building. “What do we have to do?” I asked Itzamna.
The god said, “To ensure the most precise landing, you will need to return to where time began.”
“The Old World,” Hondo, Brooks, and I said at the same time.
The images I’d seen in the labyrinth flew at me. Were they clues?
Time. Evil. Deception.
“We can totally do this, guys,” Ren said, nodding vigorously.
“No human has ever done it successfully,” Itzamna said.
“Well, no human ever succeeded in finding K’iin, either,” I reminded the god.
“You’re a godborn,” Itzamna retorted.
“Exactly,” I said with a smile.
Marco continued to scowl. “Time travel. You guys are serious.”
Ignoring him, Itzamna said, “Someone on the 1987 crew will need to stay connected to the present at all times. ALL times. Losing the connection will result in you being imprisoned in the past.”
“And…?” Brooks asked like she knew there was more, because there is always more.
“How do we stay connected?” Hondo asked.
“That’s the darker, more terrible piece that must be put into place,” Itzamna said.
“Yeah,” Marco said. “How to get the gods back!”
I braced myself. “Tell us, Itzamna.”
“You’ll need a shadow crosser.”
