The Chronomancer and The Twins of Time The flat is quiet—Mikael, diplomatic as ever, has slipped out, probably to fetch Tarmo a fresh suit and a coffee strong enough for the next war. The sight would be comic if it weren’t evidence of all the ways my life has become both impossible and inevitable. Tarmo…

With the house finally quiet, Drina sits at my side, drawing a small, weathered pendant from deep within her many scarves. She fingers the chain already at my neck—the one with the shard from Oued Laou, the one Hasna pressed into my hand in the blue-shadowed market, the very one Tarmo later set in a…