The heat of training, the smell of plastic and sweat, combined to create a pungent mix that should have been repugnant, but it had become Ashe’s comfort. A place he could be himself, a place where he shared the same goal as everyone else.

  He had surrendered to his precog, knowing that doubting it would only lead to more harm. It had already saved him on numerous occasions. His precog flared: a sharp stripe of pain down his arm.

  Instead of reacting at that first spike, he waited a split second, until the sound of wind being sliced reached him, then he moved, spinning sideways. Amalia’s footsteps thundered against the mat as her momentum carried her forward.

  Then something changed. The alarm split the air like thunder. He heard Amalia yell something, but he could not make it out over the chaos.

  Her hands caught his arms and he flinched, her voice suddenly close and clear. “There is a portal. We need you to join. We do not have any backups and something is wrong. A woman accidentally went inside.”

  Ashe wanted it so badly he felt like a drug addict. His mind went blank, sweat crawled up his spine, and his mouth filled with water. But he could not. He had promised. And he did not break promises.

  “Can’t. My dad will not allow it.”

  Amalia’s hand slipped from his and her footsteps faded ahead of him. Ashe followed, hoping to catch some of the conversation.

  The alarm cut off, and all the sounds it had drowned out crashed back into Ashe. He followed quicker now, more confident in each step with sound as his guiding force. He stopped, as his legs bumped into the row of plastic chairs, just in earshot of the conversation.

  His heart hammered against his ribs, excitement about the possibility rising before he could stop it.

  “It is not happening,” Axel said. His voice was sharp enough to cut. “You are not taking my son into a portal. We agreed.”

  “We do not have a choice,” Amalia answered. Her tone stayed clipped, controlled. “There is a woman inside. Alone. The portal shifted rank after it opened. I have only two Jumpers on site, one with a broken arm. Ashe is the only one here who can keep up.”

  “You call that no choice?” Axel let out a short, bitter laugh. “You trained him for three weeks and now you want to throw him back in because your roster is a mess.”

  “This is not about my roster,” Amalia said. “You saw him today. You know he is different.”

  “I also heard you kick him in the chest until he could not breathe,” Axel snapped. “He is not ready.”

  “He is readier than the woman who tripped into that portal on her way to work,” Amalia said. “She has no training, no weapon. She will not survive if we do not go soon. If I go in alone, I may not be able to fight and help at the same time. With Ashe, our chances improve.”

  Ashe stood a little back from them, listening in silent horror. The whole conversation had barely lasted a minute, but it felt like time was spilling away while they argued.

  “Do not say ‘our’ like you are the one who will have to tell his mother he is dead,” Axel said quietly.

  “I already know what that talk feels like,” Amalia replied. “I lost my brother in an E-rank. I am not careless with lives, especially not his.”

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  Silence stretched. Ashe heard Axel’s breathing, harsh and uneven.

  “You gave me your word,” Axel said at last. “A month of training before another portal. F-rank only. Controlled conditions. That was the deal.”

  “And I meant it,” Amalia said. “If there were another viable option I would use it. There is not. The nearest team is twenty minutes away. The portal has already been active for ten.”

  “So we wait,” Axel said. “That’s the protocol.”

  “Protocols are written for average days,” Amalia said. “This is not an average day. You are a doctor. If you had a patient who would die in thirty minutes and the only surgeon who could save them was seventeen, would you refuse on principle and let them die on time?”

  Axel muttered a curse under his breath. “That is not fair and you know it.”

  “It is the same shape,” she said. “A life in front of you, a person who can help, risk attached to both. You do not get a clean choice.”

  Ashe stepped closer. “Dad,” he said. “I want to go.”

  “You do not understand the risk,” Axel said.

  “I do,” Ashe answered. “I have been in there. Twice. I know I could die. I also know someone already will if no one goes.”

  Another long breath from Axel. “You are still a child.”

  “I am your child,” Ashe said, “but I am also a Jumper. You signed the papers. Please let me. This is what I want.”

  For a moment Axel said nothing. When he finally spoke again, his voice sounded scraped raw.

  “Conditions,” he said to Amalia. “He stays behind you. You pull out at the first sign that something is wrong. He does not play hero. And you allow me to wait outside the portal and treat you the second you come back.”

  “Fine,” Amalia said.

  Axel turned slightly toward Ashe; he could hear the movement in the rustle of fabric. A hand closed around his shoulder. “First thing that feels wrong, you say it and you get out. You do not try to prove anything. Do you hear me?”

  “I hear you,” Ashe said.

  “Fine,” Axel said. “Go. Help her. Then you come back to me.”

  He heard Amalia’s footsteps approach. They stopped beside him, and her hand brushed his arm, the silent signal that she was there.

  “Your dad agreed,” she said. “We have to go. Now.”

  She must have assumed he hadn’t heard the argument. As she moved away, he fell in step behind her, tracking the rhythm of her strides. His father’s scent and footsteps stayed close at his side. Axel didn’t say a word, just followed in tight, heavy silence. He got like this when he was nervous or angry. Ashe really hoped it was nervous; he couldn’t handle another time-wasting fight.

  They climbed into the guild van. It lurched forward before Ashe had even found the seat, throwing him back into the cushion as he fumbled for the belt. He didn’t mind. Moving meant he was getting what he wanted. They were close to the point of no return.

  Amalia drove, but still managed to press something into his hand. A loop of elastic with a hard round piece in the middle.

  “It is a heart-rate tracker,” she said. “We require all Jumpers to wear one. It lets us see how you are reacting and if you are in danger. Strap it around your chest.”

  Ashe did not bother replying. He pulled off his shirt and fastened the band around his chest. It itched and sat a little too tight, but if this was the price of being allowed in, he did not care.

  They had barely been driving five minutes when the van jerked to a stop and Amalia yanked the door open. “Follow me.”

  Ashe jumped out, running after the sound of her steps, when his father’s hand closed around his forearm.

  “Be careful,” Axel said.

  “I will.” Ashe slipped free and left him there.

  The portal was inside a supermarket, a terrible place for a new opening. It would be hard to contain, and accidental jumps were almost guaranteed.

  He ran too fast, burning past the edge of what his precog was trying to tell him. As he chased after Amalia, his arm clipped shelves; he heard cans and random products clatter to the floor, but he didn’t slow.

  Then he felt it. The portal was close. The air shifted, the normal supermarket smell overlapping with something from somewhere else. His stomach pulled toward it, reaching. He didn’t need to follow Amalia anymore. He knew where it was.

  He turned left and sprinted straight ahead. His stomach lurched, his head went light, and the world flipped. The sharp scent of lavender filled his nose. High blades of grass, up to his chest, sliced against his skin.

  A scream tore through the air, snapping him back to his mission. He was supposed to stay behind Amalia, but she wasn’t here yet—and this woman needed help now. He darted toward the sound, shoving through the thick grass.