“That certainly fits your profile.”

“We have to stop him.”

The Hermit laughed wildly. “You are turning understatement into an art form.”

“He has a simulacrum of me,” Nate explained.

“Now we’re talking,” the Hermit said with relish. “I’d love to get my hands on that!”

“His simulacrum of me would make it impossible for me to beat him.”

“Many things will make it impossible to beat him,” the Hermit scoffed. “If Jonas has the Gate and the Protector, his quest is essentially complete. You’ve already handed him victory. He need only claim his prize.”

“Jonas hasn’t won yet,” Nate protested. “William Graywater told me that if I reach Uweya first, I may be able to use it against Jonas.”

“You?” the Hermit mocked. “What do you know of Uweya? Now I know you’re telling tall tales. As if William Graywater would trust you!”

“His idea, not mine,” Nate insisted, digging in his pocket for the keychain. “He gave me this.” Nate held up the totem.

The Hermit offered no reply. After a long pause, he stepped out of the darkness of the cave, his skin ghastly pale beneath the moonlight.

“How did you get that?” the Hermit asked slowly.

“William gave it to me.”

“Yes,” the Hermit marveled. “It was freely given. How did you convince him?”

“I told him the truth.”

The Hermit rubbed the back of his arm roughly. He glanced around, then took a long look back at his cave. He seemed torn. “Very well. What aid do you seek?”

“I need protection from my simulacrum,” Nate said.

The Hermit stared flatly. A membrane briefly shimmered over his eyeballs. “You wish to strip me of protection?”

“I’ll bring it back,” Nate said uncomfortably.

“Like you brought the Gate back?” the Hermit erupted. “If I refuse to hand it over, do you plan to hurt me again?”

“I’m trying to save the world,” Nate sighed.

“A Simulcrist needs protection. Especially a homeless, friendless Simulcrist. I don’t have much. I don’t ask for much. I did not cause this problem. You’ve wronged me in the past. Why should I take a risk for you?”

“It won’t just be bad for me if Jonas wins,” Nate said. “It’ll be bad for you. Bad for everyone.”

The Hermit shook his head. “I’ve always been adept at avoiding attention. I keep to myself. I no longer have anything that Jonas wants.”

“Would your amulet work on me?” Nate asked.

The Hermit considered him in silence. “If freely given, I could make it work.”

“You don’t want Jonas to get Uweya,” Nate said.

“Correct. There are many people I don’t want to get Uweya. In fact, I don’t want anyone to get it. Including you. That’s why I kept the Gate with me! Then you came along and stole it! For all I know, you delivered Jonas the Protector as well.”

“I kind of did,” Nate admitted. “It wasn’t what I wanted, but he has the simulacrum of me.”

The Hermit folded his arms. “This is preposterous! You’re a hoodlum!”

Nate struggled to think of a way to convince the Hermit. He didn’t seem very concerned about others, but at least he acted interested in himself. “You’re a Simulcrist. No matter how good you are at hiding, that makes you a target. Jonas is too careful and too paranoid. He won’t rest until you’re captured or killed. With Uweya, he’ll find you no matter what necklaces you hide behind.”

The Hermit held very still. Nate held his breath. On the hillside around them, insects chirped.

“You’re right,” the Hermit finally said. “Unfair though it may be, you’re absolutely correct. Very well, I’ll lend you my charm. I lack a better option. A long shot is better than no shot.”

Nate couldn’t resist a relieved smile.

“Don’t look at me like that! This is no victory for you. My charm has been yours since I saw what William gave you. You’re in serious trouble. We all are!”

“At least we’ll have a chance,” Nate said.

The Hermit gave a halfhearted shrug. He slipped the twine over his bald head. The metallic figure eight swung gently. “Come here.”

Nate approached.

Muttering mysterious words, the Hermit looped the amulet around Nate’s neck. His breath reeked of fish. “This will shield you from simulcry. It will be virtually impossible for a Simulcrist to perceive unless he actively works simulcry against you.”

“Thanks,” Nate said.

“Don’t thank me,” the Hermit said. “I don’t like you. It was foolish of you to take the Gate. I have zero tolerance for fools. But you happen to be the least terrible of several terrible options. If you’re willing to risk yourself to stop Jonas, I’m willing to let you assume that risk.”

“All right.”

“Don’t try to find me to return my charm. I won’t be here. If you succeed, I’ll find you. If you fail, you’ll have bigger problems than returning borrowed enchantments. Don’t fail.”

“Is there anything—”

“This is all I can do for you,” the Hermit interrupted. “I’m now unshielded. There are measures I must take. Go.”

The Hermit turned and ran off down the slope. Nate waited for a minute, listening to him crunching through the brush, then took flight.

*****

When Nate reached his house, he landed gently on the roof near his window. He had been concerned about falling asleep in midair, but now he was home. Body and mind ached for sleep. All he currently desired was to crawl into bed.

Nate had stopped by Arcadeland on his way home. It had appeared closed and quiet. There was no sign of Lindy or the other Jets. Either Jonas had let them go home or he was keeping them there. Either way, Nate had decided there was not much he could do at the moment. Exhausted, he had chosen not to worry about Jonas until morning.

Nate slid open his window, climbed through, and found Lindy waiting on his bed. She sat primly, hands folded on her lap.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“You freaked me out,” Nate said, a hand on his chest. “I’m okay. What’s up?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked in a small voice.

Nate froze. “Tell you what?” His mind raced to consider all the possible meanings of her question. She sounded hurt and upset.