Time shimmered. The solid, dependable reality of the fort’s stone walls seemed to bend for a moment, like a reflection in disturbed water. The sensation was profoundly strange, both novel and yet, unsettlingly familiar. Ravonna Snowdrift shook her head, trying to clear the dizzying feeling, and focused on the task at hand. The main gate of the fort was splintered, the heavy oak doors bashed inward. Deep, brutal claw marks were gouged into the wood. Her raven swooped down from the rafters, landing silently on her shoulder. Valery is alright, it whispered directly into her mind, a voice made of rustling feathers and ancient secrets. Good, Ravonna thought. She didn't have time to worry about her sister. She had a prisoner to release.

  Down in the dungeons, Aziza Tanzanight was not impressed. She sat on her cot, the picture of aristocratic indignation. "How was the ball last night?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

  "Aziza, I am so sorry about all this," Ravonna began.

  "You just knew I was going to look better than you in a dress, didn't you?" Aziza shot back, rising to her feet. "I won't forget this, Snowdrift."

  Ravonna unlocked the cell. Aziza stormed out and, without a moment’s hesitation, slapped her hard across the face. The sound echoed in the damp stone corridor. "The Snowdrifts will never touch our Ether," she spat.

  "Too late," Ravonna replied, her cheek stinging. "Your family has already made an agreement with my sister Elysia."

  "What? No. Not when they hear you locked me up."

  "They knew the whole time," Ravonna said calmly. "Setting you free is part of the deal. Besides, it was Valery who ordered your arrest, and she’s been stripped of her title."

  The news seemed to mollify Aziza. A flicker of satisfaction, of justice served, crossed her face. "Oh," she said, her tone shifting entirely. "In that case… sorry I slapped you, partner." She offered a sly, conspiratorial wink.

  As Aziza turned to leave, the world shimmered again, more violently this time. The stone walls dissolved into a vortex of colour and light. Ravonna felt a sickening lurch, a feeling of being pulled backward through herself.

  The next thing she knew, she was sitting at her desk in the offices of the Cape Lumous Chronicle, the scent of ink and old paper filling her nostrils. A soft knock came at the door. Her assistant, Eleanor, peeked in.

  "Ma'am? Have the ravens come back with any stories? We need something for our headline."

  Ravonna struggled to regain her composure, her mind a confusing jumble of a fort, a ball, and a slap. "What… what day is it, Eleanor?"

  Eleanor blushed. "Is it your birthday, ma'am? I know you Snowdrifts still uphold that charming celebration tradition."

  "The Grand Ball," Ravonna murmured, grasping for a memory that was already turning to smoke. "Let's make that the headline. Or haven’t you found anything juicy while hanging out in Hilda’s Tavern?"

  Eleanor looked utterly confused. "Ma'am, are you feeling alright? There wasn't any grand ball. And I haven't been to that… dirty tavern in years." She brightened slightly. "We could do a piece on Marina Skylar. She's gone diving for lost treasure. But our last headline was about Aria Skylar and her balloon. I don't want our readers to think the only thing newsworthy in this city involves that family."

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  Ravonna stopped listening. Was she going crazy? What was happening to her? Another knock at her office door, sharper this time. Tempora Torqueburn stood in the entrance. A spike of pure adrenaline, a phantom limb of a forgotten romance, shot through Ravonna at the sight of her.

  "Eleanor, please excuse us," she said, her voice strained.

  Eleanor scurried out. Ravonna turned to her old flame. "Tempora. It's been quite some time. Why are you here?"

  "I need your help, Ravonna," Tempora said, her voice urgent, her eyes burning with an intensity that Ravonna remembered all too well. "I need you to warn the city. Write an article about Ether."

  That word. Ether. It felt familiar, like the echo of a dream. The Grand Ball… hadn’t the theme been… Ravonna’s mind strained, but the memory was gone, a ghost that had fled at dawn. "What is Ether?"

  Tempora looked impatient. "Have your memories faded already? Next time, I'll get you to write them down as soon as you get back to this moment."

  "Temp, what are you talking about?"

  "It doesn't matter," Tempora said, brushing a hand through her already messy hair. "What matters is that you write this down: 'Ether has been discovered in the mines to the east of the city. A new substance with radioactive energy that many are describing as magic…'"

  "Radioactive?" Ravonna cut in, the word a cold stone in her stomach. "Like the substance that caused the Great Calamity?"

  "I don't know if it's radioactive or not," Tempora sighed, "but that word will trigger people. They need to know this is dangerous."

  Ravonna stood up, staring at the woman she once loved. "You sound insane, Tempora. I'm not going to risk the reputation of my paper on a story like this without proof."

  "I don't have any proof!" Tempora yelled back. "I just need you to trust me!"

  "Trust you? Why should I do that?" The old, familiar pattern of their arguments settled over them like a shroud, but beneath it, Ravonna felt the spark of the chemistry, the passion she had so dearly missed.

  "Because in the future, you do trust me, Ravonna."

  "What are you talking about? I know you’ve been tinkering with some time machine, but we both know that's not possible."

  "It is," Tempora said, her voice dropping to a deadly serious whisper. "I did it. I can time travel. I'm back from the future to warn everyone. If we don't print this article, Ravonna, the world ends."

  Ravonna was stunned into silence.

  "To prove it," Tempora continued, her eyes pleading, "you told me a secret. A secret you promised never to tell another soul. You told me so that I could repeat it to you now, so you would believe me and print this story." The raven on Ravonna's shoulder let out a single, mournful cry. "You told me about Sofia."

  Ravonna took a sharp, involuntary step back. Impossible. No one knew. No one knew that her sister, Sofia Snowdrift, was still alive, living a life of anonymity on the streets. It was a secret she guarded with every fiber of her being, respecting her sister's radical choice for freedom. The raven was her secret agent, a silent guardian who only intervened with a gift of bread when things were truly desperate. But this… this was proof. This meant Tempora was telling the truth.

  "Eleanor!" she called, her voice shaking. "Get back in here!"

  Eleanor returned, pushing her glasses up her nose, notepad ready.

  "You wanted a story," Ravonna said, her gaze locked with Tempora's. "Here it is."

  Tempora repeated her warning, her voice clear and steady now, and Eleanor’s pen flew across the page, scribbling furiously. When Tempora finished, Eleanor didn’t look up, a manic, creative energy possessing her.

  "I have just the perfect headline for this," she murmured. She tore off a new page and wrote with a flourish, then held it up for them both to see. The words were stark, bold, and terrifyingly true.

  BREAKING NEWS - EVERYTHING IS ABOUT TO CHANGE