Neil Gaiman - Eternity’s Wheel

First published in the USA by HarperCollins Publishers Inc in 2015

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2015

HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,

HarperCollins Publishers

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

The HarperCollins Children’s Books website address is

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Copyright © Neil Gaiman, Michael Reaves and Mallory Reaves 2015

Cover art © 2015 by Colin Anderson

Cover design by Heather Daugherty

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780007581955

Ebook Edition © April 2015 ISBN: 9780007523498

Version: 2015-04-20

For CAL COTTON and THERESA MACWILLIE, who I think must have had the ability to Walk between conventions.

—Mallory Reaves

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright Copyright Copyright Dedication Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Have You Read? About the Authors Also in this Series About the Publisher First published in the USA by HarperCollins Publishers Inc in 2015 First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2015 HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd, HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF The HarperCollins Children’s Books website address is www.harpercollins.co.uk Copyright © Neil Gaiman, Michael Reaves and Mallory Reaves 2015 Cover art © 2015 by Colin Anderson Cover design by Heather Daugherty All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. Source ISBN: 9780007581955 Ebook Edition © April 2015 ISBN: 9780007523498 Version: 2015-04-20

Dedication For CAL COTTON and THERESA MACWILLIE, who I think must have had the ability to Walk between conventions. —Mallory Reaves

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Have You Read?

About the Authors

Also in this Series

About the Publisher

INTERLOG

Mom, Dad, Jenny, and Kevin the Squid,

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry I left and I’m sorry I can’t come back, and for everything I’m sure you’ve been through in the past however many years. I’m sorry you were given this note and know I was here but left without saying hello or good-bye. I was never even supposed to come back—it was a fluke, a one-time thing, and the longer I stay, the more likely it is I’d put you in danger.

I shouldn’t even be writing this. But I couldn’t come back, even accidentally, and leave without saying I miss you. I think of you guys every day. I bet the Squid is so big now! You probably don’t call him that anymore. If you do, when he’s old enough, tell him I’m sorry he got stuck with the nickname. He can blame his older brother, even though he won’t remember me.

Jenny, I hope you’re enjoying my music collection, and everything else, really. I’m not coming back again, so everything is yours. I miss you, kid.

Dad, I’m sorry I didn’t say good-bye when I left. It was hard enough to tell Mom, and I knew you wouldn’t let me go. Everything I’m doing is to keep you all safe, even though you may not understand it. I’m doing it to keep everyone safe. I think you’d be proud of me.

Mom, I still have the necklace you gave me. It helps to remind me of home and what I’m fighting for. I met a girl. Her name is Acacia. I don’t know if it’s even … anything, but I think you’d like her. She’s tough. She doesn’t take crap from anybody, especially me.

I miss you all so much. I know the chances are astronomically slim, but I hope I can see you again someday. That thought is part of what keeps me going.

I love you.

J. H.

Have you ever had to walk with a broken rib? If not, count yourself lucky—and if you have, I sympathize. If you’ve ever had to walk three blocks with a broken rib, wrist, and fractured shoulder, all while trying to make it look like you were out for a stroll in the park … well, then you and I should exchange stories sometime. For now, here’s mine.

My name is Joseph Harker. I’m almost seventeen, and I’m back on my version of Earth for the first time in two years, if not longer. It’s hard to tell exactly how much time has passed when you’re hopping from world to world.

When I left, I gave up everything I’d ever known. My friends, my family, including the little brother who hadn’t quite learned to say my name right yet. The possibility of straight As on my next report card. My favorite breakfast cereal and riding my bike through the crisp fall leaves on Saturday afternoons. My mother’s smile, my father’s laugh. Everything I thought my life would be. Still, I gave it all up, and willingly.

I’d lost so much more than that in the past two days.

It was dark; the sun had just been going down when I’d arrived. I’d stayed in the park to watch the red-gold light set the familiar town afire one last time, then started off toward my school. My old school, I should say. “School” now was the long, sterile halls and compact rooms of InterWorld Base Town; the Hazard Zone combat sessions; and the trips that were all for field training. At least, it had been. Maybe InterWorld Base Town was my old school now, too.

No , I thought fiercely, as I concentrated on keeping my feet moving across the grass. I would get back there. I would see InterWorld again.

I had to.

Through the park, off the grass, onto the sidewalk. Even after being away for so long, I knew where I was going—which wasn’t due to any innate sense of direction, believe me. I just knew that the park was between my house and my school, and I had landed house side instead of school side. Not too difficult, even for someone who might or might not have a concussion. I hadn’t hit the ground from that far up when I’d been shoved through dimensions, but it’d sure felt like I had.