Travel between alternate dimensions is possible. Whatever it is that happens to people traveling from another dimension. Her memories will take over again, any second, any moment, and while I know I’ll awaken again in time, it’s terrifying to think about . . . The dimension I leaped into, using the Firebird. Instead, this body will return to its rightful owner, the Marguerite who actually belongs in this dimension. But I won’t be the Marguerite Caine living in it anymore. This is the message I must pass on, the one goal I have to remember after everything else I am is gone.ĭie isn’t the right word. Fingers trembling, I unscrew it and scrawl on a tattered poster on the wall of the alley. When I fish inside, I can’t find a pen, but there’s a lipstick. Desperately I tug at these unfamiliar clothes-the short dress and shiny jacket I wear have no pockets, but there’s a small bag dangling from my shoulder. I don’t know whether I have minutes, or seconds, or even less. It hangs around my neck, still glowing with the heat of the journey. It’s hard to catch my breath, to get any sense of where I am. Rain falls cold and sharp against my skin, from a sky I’ve never seen before. My hand shakes as I brace myself against the brick wall.
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