“No. To be precise, you were supposed to die at midnight on Eventide.” He slammed his foot on the brakes, waited for a cat to cross the road, then hit the accelerator hard. Morrigan clutched the sides of her chair, her fingers turning white. “But there was no midnight on Eventide. Not for you. Nevermoor is about nine hours ahead of Jackalfax. So you skipped right past midnight—out of one time zone and into another. You cheated death. Well done. Hungry?”
