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However, I’m a little taken aback by how awful this version of me looks. He’s got dark circles under his eyes, his skin is pale, and I swear his shoulders look leaner. Weaker.
Is this what I truly looked like back then? It’s sad, but I thought those years serving under Vaeront—before the banishment—were the best of my life. I lived with a false sense of invincibility. Anger and bitterness made me unbreakable, and I was roaming Valora a free man, privy to its natural resources of food, water, and magic.
“Come here,” Number Two hisses urgently. “Quickly.”
I join him by the tree, confusion setting in. “You don’t look surprised to see me. Why?”
He spreads his arms. “I’m your future self.”
Confused, I shake my head. “No, you’re from my past. I’m the future.”
“No, you stubborn ass,” he argues vehemently. “I’ve already been you. I’ve done this before.” He points at the house behind me. “I came back here to tell you not to intervene. You can’t change the deal.”
“What? Why?” If I’m talking to the future me, that means the past me is still around here somewhere…
A distinct whooshing sound comes from behind the house, and I glance over my shoulder to see a third Ellister tumbling onto the ground amongst the trees.
What the fuck is happening here? Brushing himself off, Number Three starts toward the house.
He’s the one I need to speak with.
I step that way, but a firm hand on my shoulder prevents me from going.
“Don’t.”
“How are you going to stop me?” I try to break away from Number Two, but he hooks his other hand around my elbow with a surprisingly strong grasp.
“With physical force, if I must.”
In a split second, I size him up, figuring my own weaknesses are his as well. He’s obviously not in great shape. Still, I’d lose. I can’t fight with Hannah in my arms. Even if she’s dead, I won’t allow her body to become more battered than it already is, and I’m not willing to put her down.
I notice Number Two watching her, his eyes a well of grief and love.
If he’s looking at her as though he loves her, he must be telling the truth—he’s from the future. He knows her like I do, while the past version of us does not.
“Stop staring,” I order possessively.
His gaze snaps up to mine. “I can’t help it.”
I know he can’t. He’s me. If our positions were reversed, I’d be using every drop of self-control to not snatch Hannah from his arms.
“So my plan doesn’t work the way I thought it would?” I ask.
Number Two confirms it when he points at Number Three, who’s currently peeking through Waylon’s window, and says, “That one was very difficult to convince, but that’s because he had nothing to lose. You do, so I’m hoping you’ll be more reasonable. You must allow the deal to happen as it will.”
Lifting the woman in my hold, I give him an incredulous glare. “If I let the bargain play out, this is the end result.”
“The alternative is worse.”
“What could be worse than killing my soul mate?”
“Your soul mate never existing at all,” he answers morosely. “Just… completely wiped from ever being born.”
Shocked, I pause. “There’s… there’s no Hannah in the future?”
He shakes his head. “Not without the bargain. Think about it—if the bargain is for an object and not a life, little Waylon will have no reason to believe having children is a bad idea. He’ll go on to have two sons and two daughters, instead of just the one child he accidentally produced—the one that branched to Hannah’s generation.”
My heart skips a beat. “There’s no Bobby Wildwood either?”
