I found out later why he’d been sent. His presence was in answer to the prayers of a little girl who just wanted her father to come home safe. But because I would’ve still been alive when the ambulance arrived, because I would’ve been medevaced to Albuquerque in a futile attempt to save my life, because my grandparents, in their haste to see me, would’ve sped through the mountain pass, crossing the center line and having a head-on with the little girl’s father, Jared was sent to take me sooner. The little girl’s father would’ve died peripherally, as a direct result of my getting hit by that truck. Jared’s mission was to take me before I ever made it to the hospital, before the helicopter was even called, but he’d disobeyed those orders and saved me instead. Much to my glee. As a result, however, because he broke one of the three celestial laws of his kind—he’d changed human history—Jared was now stuck on earth as punishment, helping a group of us fight an upcoming war. This war. The war I’d just seen in my visions.

Or at least that was the plan before I ran off into the night. I thought that perhaps by disappearing, I would change the future. The war wouldn’t happen.

Clearly, I’d made a mistake.

The war was going to happen anyway. My running did nothing to deter it. I was hoping that all the prophecies were wrong. The ones that said the last prophet of Arabeth, aka me, was going to stop a supernatural war before it ever started. I didn’t know how to stop a war, supernatural or otherwise, and if my visions were correct, that meant the prophecies were wrong. I was about to stop absolutely nothing.

With sadness weighing me down, I touched the picture, let my fingertips slide along the cool surface until it paused on Jared. Then I took a deep breath, concentrated on the image, and dived inside.

When I first began entering pictures, there was a kind of curtain, a barrier I had to get past. That was no longer the case. I could now enter any picture in a matter of seconds. I barely had to concentrate anymore, I’d become so proficient at it.

And this particular picture, I’d entered at least a hundred times. Maybe two. I knew what was waiting for me. I had memorized the roar of laughter and idle chitchat. I automatically squinted my eyes, trying to block out the blinding sun, even though I could only see in. I was not physically there. I couldn’t really squint my eyes or raise my hand to block it.

Just like every other time, I entered the scene at the exact same moment. I felt the heat of the New Mexico sun rush over me. It was warm and comforting, so opposite the damp, cold air of Maine. And the fact that I could feel the sun at all was new. When I first began, I could only see into the picture. Could only hear voices, music, birds … whatever gems the picture held. But now I could feel things. The heat in the air. The texture of the brick building Jared was leaning against. The soft breeze as it ruffled his hair. And I could manipulate my vantage point. I could look around, see things that were not in the picture itself.

I looked up at the boys chained to the flagpole. The sign that I could never make out in the picture read STATE CHAMPIONSHIP OR BUST. I’d learned that it was actually part of a skit for a pep rally they were having outside. The football team was going to the championship playoffs, and the school was sending them off in style. Elliot Davis, the team’s quarterback, died barely an hour after this picture was taken. I wondered what it did to the rest of the team. How his death affected the players. I knew that they didn’t win state that year, but I wondered if they even went. If they played at all.

I glanced to the side and saw the now familiar faces of the cheerleaders as well as several other students, mostly girls, looking toward what they must have thought was a new kid at school. But Jared was not there to attend class. He had been sent for Elliot and was … what? Stalking his prey? Biding his time? Did he like to watch humans interact? Did we fascinate him? Repulse him? I couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of us.

I moved forward until I was standing beside him. The thing about going into these pictures was that I was a ghost. No one could see me. No one could hear me. I was simply an observer. I could not interact or alter my surroundings or change the outcome. I could only watch.

And yet, Jared could see me.

“I thought you were going to stop doing this.”

I turned to look at him.

“Why are you here?” I asked. I’d thought of the question only recently, but now it burned inside me. “Why did you show up to take Elliot Davis an hour before his time when you can appear, take a person, and disappear within the span of a heartbeat?”

He regarded me from underneath his long lashes, and said quietly, “I came to see you.”

I blinked in surprise. “I don’t understand. How could you—?”

“You look tired,” he said, interrupting.

“I’m fine.”

The barest hint of a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. He leaned over and whispered into my ear. “Go to sleep.”

Before I could protest, the world fell away and oblivion, that dark vortex of nothingness, swallowed me whole. It was comforting and warm. I hadn’t been warm in weeks, and I suddenly felt as though I weren’t alone at all. As though I’d never been alone.

* * *

“Lorraine?”

My lids fluttered open and I peered into the darkness, waiting for my eyes to adjust. When they did, I saw a pale face with round-rimmed glasses and a light dusting of freckles. Crystal gazed down at me, her blue eyes huge with worry. I lay there a moment, trying to gain my bearings, then bolted upright, almost head-butting her in the process. The world was about to end and I was napping. Napping!