Despite everything, she stared in wonder as the man Dak had described so reverently — beard, top hat, lankiness, and all — stepped out of the carriage. Abraham Lincoln had arrived.
ONCE DAK had known he was safe from Riq and Sera, he’d slowly and stealthily made his way through the rows of seats, out a door, up a flight of stairs, and onto the balcony where he knew President Lincoln and his wife would be seated. They should be there any minute now.
He heard the voice before he saw the man.
Dak had assumed the greatest leader the world had ever known would have a deep, resounding, booming voice, a voice that could be heard across the entire country every time he so much as said “Excuse me.” But that wasn’t true. Lincoln actually spoke with a somewhat high-pitched, squeaky sound. Dak decided that just made him all the more likable.
“Our seats are right up here, Mary,” the man said. “The good people here at Ford’s were so nice to arrange this. A great way to celebrate the Confederacy’s surrender, don’t you think?”
“Why, yes, my dear. So very nice of them.” Dak could hardly contain himself. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to give First Lady Mary Todd Lincoln a big hug.
When the couple reached the little alcove, Dak gathered his courage and stepped out from the shadows. When he did, Mary gave out a little shriek and clutched her husband’s arm. As for Mr. Lincoln, he grabbed her almost as hard, making a sound that made Dak picture a poor little mouse smashed by a boot. He couldn’t really blame them for the reaction, seeing a geeky kid in strange clothes appearing out of nowhere.
Dak held up his hands, palms out. “Hi there. Don’t worry, I’m not here to assassinate you or anything. I’m from the future. Mary, you’re looking quite dandy tonight.” He let out a little peep of a laugh, and then his face reddened like coals as he realized that he’d just said about the dumbest assembly of words ever uttered by a human being.
The president had regained his composure, however, his face a mask of calm. “Son, is there something I can do for you? My wife and I are here to enjoy the show tonight.”
“Yeah, about that . . .” Dak began, searching for how to say this. He’d gone over it, over and over, in his mind while he hid, but now it was all a blank. “Look, I only need a minute. I know this sounds crazy-town, but I really am from the future. And I know something that you need to know. There’s a man named John Wilkes —”
“Stop.” Abraham Lincoln only said the one word, but it held so much power that Dak couldn’t have spoken again for a million dollars. Then the man came forward and knelt before Dak — quite the feat, long arms and legs folding up like a wooden laundry rack — putting president and boy on the same level. Then Lincoln reached out and took Dak by the shoulders.
“Listen to me, son,” he said. “I can tell you’re a good soul, and I’m sure that somewhere you have very proud parents. If you say that you’re from the future, then I believe you. But if that’s true, then there’s a lesson I want you to learn. A lesson about destiny. My path has been laid before me. As has yours. Now it’s our job to walk it.”
“But . . .” Dak started, but the look on Lincoln’s face stopped him cold again.
The president smiled. “What’s your name?”
“Dak.”
“Dak? Unusual. But I like it.” Lincoln stood up, unfolding himself until he seemed to stand a hundred feet tall. Then, looking down at Dak, he said, “Now, go on and walk your path, Dak. Do good things. Make the world a better place.”
Dak nodded, suddenly knowing, without a doubt, that Sera and Riq had been right all along. He sighed, feeling that too-close-for-comfort feeling. Not for the first time, Abraham Lincoln himself had saved the day.
“Good-bye, Dak,” the president said.
“Bye.” It was all he could get through his emotion-choked throat.
Dak walked away from his hero, his heart aching, six words ringing in his head. Six words that he’d never, never forget.
Make the world a better place.
THE SUN had set by the time Dak came out of the theater, his shoulders slumped, a suspicious redness to his eyes. Sera wanted to scream at him, pound him, lecture him until the moon crossed the sky. But instead she walked right up and threw her arms around him, squeezing tight.
“What happened?”
“You were right,” he answered. “Both of you. We need to leave before the president gets shot.”
Sera pulled back in surprise. “You didn’t tell him?”
“Destiny” was his only response.
Sera glanced over at Riq, who shrugged. At least he didn’t say “I told you so,” or look smug. The three of them had come a long way, leaving behind their childish ways. Mostly.
“Let’s just get out of here,” Riq said. “This won’t be the best place to hang around in about an hour. And you both know what’s waiting for us now.”
In answer, Sera reached down to her satchel, where the figure-eight shape of the Infinity Ring rested, hard and cold. Ready to take them to their final destination, where matters would be settled once and for all.
“The Prime Break,” Dak whispered, as if the words were sacred.
The three of them found an alley and walked into the safety of the darkness.
Traveling through the wormholes of time was an experience that Sera would both miss and hope to never do again. She loved it in a way — doing something so scientifically revolutionary, so spectacular, so terrifying. But she also hated it. Every time her body ripped through the dazzling violence of a quantum disturbance, it was as if a part of it got left behind. Time ate away at her like it ate away the years.
Nineteenth-century Washington, DC, exploded away from them, replaced by sound and sparks and streaking light and warping pain. Like always, just when Sera thought she couldn’t take one more second of it, they were thrown from the wormhole, spilling out and tumbling across the soft leaves of a forest floor near Corinth, Greece. Sera’s head whacked the trunk of a tree right at the end of her roll, a perfect ending.
Dak must’ve seen it because he was at her side in a flash.
“You okay?” he asked.
She looked up at him. “Yeah, fine. Thanks for asking.” And she really meant it. Maybe Dak meeting Abraham Lincoln had been worth the extra trip after all. Suddenly he seemed . . . nicer. Wiser.