A World Without You(91)

As I walk closer to the burning academy, I bring up the timestream. It comes to me easily. All those stutters before, they were all just growing pains. I’m in control now. I understand now. This is not something I need to fear.

The power is mine for the taking.

It washes over me in a glorious wave. I have never been in such control before. I have never felt the power this way. I finally have complete control. The power courses inside my body, filling me with a firm knowledge: I can change time. I can bend it to my will. I am its master.

The timestream is tantalizingly in my reach, and I can see with perfect clarity exactly how every thread is placed, how every moment in history rests within the palm of my hand.

And I know. I can change it all.

The image of Sofía in the window—I know it was her, I know it—it’s a sign. I can go back. I can go back to before she went missing in time, before my powers crumbled, before Ryan could manipulate them and me. With this power, I can stop tragedies long before they happen. I can save not only Sofía, but also the Doctor and Berkshire. I can save Ryan from himself. I can bring it all back to the way it was before.

I don’t see everything laid out in front of me in chronological order, but that doesn’t matter. I can see the first step. And the first step is to go to that image in the window—to the outline of the girl I know is Sofía—who’s waiting for me on the second floor of the academy despite the fire, despite the mess I’ve made of the present.

“Bo?” Dr. Franklin’s voice calls out. “Bo!”

I glance behind me just in time to see the Doctor running for me, one arm outstretched. He’s still in Ryan’s control, still believes he’s just my doctor, not my mentor and teacher in understanding my powers. He wants to hold me back. He wants to stop me.

I put my hand up, palm flat.

Time stops.

The Doctor is launching toward me. His frozen face is full of fear and anguish.

I turn back to the academy. The flames look somewhat paler now, but they still move ever so slightly. Or maybe it’s just my perception that they’re moving as I walk closer and closer to the burning building—I can’t tell. The light flickers in and out, playing peekaboo with my eyes.

I mount each step slowly. Even though everything is stopped, I can still feel the heat radiating from the fire.

A moment of fear seizes me, and my control falters. For just a second, the flames lick out and the smoke engulfs me, and I choke.

But then I see the girl in the flames, her shape perfectly cut out of the raging fire, and I am in utter control again. Time is stopped, ready to serve my whim.

The timestream stretches out before me, but I am only looking for one specific thread. The red thread, the one that connects me to Sofía.

And there it is. Leading me through the burning academy.

Clouds of smoke obscure my vision, and I blow, watching as they gently disperse.

It’s strange to see the static fire, caught in the process of eating the school like a voracious monster. The crisp black edges of the wallpaper and carpet and wood paneling glow red. The flames lick out from all around, impossibly slow, as if they’re inviting me to dance.

I can’t help myself—I reach out and scoop a tiny ball of flame from the wall by the door. It has no weight at all; it glows in my palm. It’s almost like a hollow shell of light, the orange-red wisp curling around nothing.

“BO!” a voice shouts through the silence.

Several things happen at once. A roar fills my ears, crackling and popping, the timbers overhead creaking as the fire comes alive once more. The smoke billows around me, cascading over my body, and the tiny ball of flame I held in my hand scorches my skin, blisters bubbling up across my palm. I scream in pain. My hand is not empty—it holds the iron key that I went back in time to give to Harold, but now that key is red hot and branding my palm. I cry out, dropping the key to the floor.

How did it get in my hand?

The Doctor runs up the outside steps toward me.

“Bo!” He screams my name again. “What are you doing? Come back!”

I retreat further into the fire. The Doc stops—not because I’ve stopped time, but because he’s afraid of chasing me deeper into danger. His eyes are wide and filled with terror.

“I can control this,” I say, my voice just loud enough over the sound of the fire. “Go back to the others. I can handle it.”

“Bo.” His voice is sobbing now. “Bo, you’re sick. You can’t see reality. The building is on fire. Please, please come back.”

The burn on my hand aches and stings, but I shake my head. “You don’t understand,” I shout, backing further into the foyer. “I have control now. I can go back. I can change it all. I can stop this from ever happening.”

“This is suicide!”

His words make me pause. Suicide? This has nothing to do with that. This is about saving everyone. I can’t die.

I’m in control. I know what I’m doing.

I’m going back to Sofía.

“Bo, please!” the Doctor shouts. “Come back out! This isn’t the answer! You will die in there!”

The pain in my hand is sharper than any I’ve ever felt before, but it hadn’t burned when I held the fire, only when the Doctor pulled me from the timestream.

“It’s okay!” I shout back at him. “I know what I’m doing!”