Page 108 of Yumi and the Nightmare Painter

“Yumi!” Painter cried. “You were right!”

She shook herself and tore her eyes away from the lead scholar, focusing on Painter. Right?

She’d beenright. About the machine. About the needs of the spirits. After all that doubting, after all that uncertainty, she’d…been right?

She’d beenright.

This would all end when she and Painter destroyed that machine.

“It’s absolutely, mostdefinitely, assuredlynottime travel,” Design explained to the two of them, resting her elbows on the bar.

“How do you know?” Painter asked.

“Because time travel into the past is impossible,” Design said. “I can show you the math.”

“Wait,” Yumi said. “Time travel into the futureispossible?”

“Um, yes, dear,” Design said. “You’re doing it now.”

“Oh. Right.”

“We can slow or speed up time relative to other places or people,” Design said. “That’s easier in the Spiritual Realm, where time flows like water into whatever container you provide. But you can’t goback. Nobody, not even a Shard, can do that.”

“What’s a Shard?” Painter asked.

“Yeah, we’re not going to get intothat,” Design said.

“Very well,” Yumi replied, “but many things I assumed impossible proved to be entirelypossiblerecently. So perhaps something is happening that you don’t know about, Design.”

The buxom woman—well, entity—sighed. “You need proof, eh? All right, let’s read your aura, little girl.” She ducked down and began fiddling with things under the counter.

“Read my aura?” Yumi whispered, leaning over to Painter.

“It’s a carnival thing,” he explained. “Izzy loves readings. You know how she’s always trying to use dramas to guess what people’s futures are? It’s like that. Old lady sits in a room and squints at you, then tells you what kind of job you’ll like. It’s…mostly nonsense.”

Design popped back up and thumped a large piece of equipment onto the bar. A black box with some kind of…glass portion on top? Like a viewer?

“Is this normally part of it, Painter?” Yumi asked.

“I’ve…never seen it done like this before…” he said as Design took Yumi’s hand and put it onto the glass plate.

A customer came up for food, and Design shooed him away. When he didn’t leave, she stood up tall and snapped, “What? Can’t you see that I’m talking to a ghost and reading his girlfriend’s spiritweb? Go sit in the storming corner until I’m ready for you.”

The man frowned and trailed away. Painter, however, was shocked. Girlfriend?

“Took me longer to find this thing than I wanted,” Design said. “Hidden among all his junk. Guy needs a sorting system.”

(I have one. It’s called my brain.)

Design moved some dials, then hooked the machine up to the bar’s hion lines for power. While he waited, Painter reached over and took the spirit of Yumi’s soup, pulling it in front of him. He got two bites before it evaporated. He didn’t get hungry while a ghost, but hedidmiss Design’s cooking.

“Okay,” Design eventually said as something began to glow inside thebox. “This fabrial will give a far more accurate reading of your spiritweb than I can on my own. Let’s see…” She leaned back, frowning, then leaned forward again, studying some…were those words? The waving lines that appeared on a smaller plate at the side?

“Huh,” Design said.

“What?” Yumi and Painter said in unison.

“The readings are going haywire,” Design said, “because you’rehighlyInvested. Like,superInvested.”

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