In that moment, Oliver felt like the whole world was falling in on him. “No you’re not.”
Esther gave him a sad look. “I am, Oliver. I’m sorry. Professor Amethyst diagnosed me after we came back from Germany.”
“With what?” Oliver exclaimed. Emotion threatened to take over. It seemed to be tightening around his neck.
“A type of time travel sickness.”
Oliver shook his head again. “Well then that’s okay. Time travel sickness is curable. I’ve had it before and I’m fine now.” He just didn’t want to believe what he was hearing. “And you saw Ralph when he first reached us. He bounced back right away.”
“Oliver, listen,” Esther said more firmly. “This isn’t like usual time travel sickness. What I have is a very rare type. And it’s fatal.”
Oliver thought back to all the moments in their adventure. Esther’s references to nausea. Her lack of appetite. Her headaches. Her weak swimming. Even her distrust of Professor Amethyst. It had all been related to her diagnosis of incurable time travel sickness.
“Sister Judith,” Oliver said with a gasp. “That’s what she saw when she looked into your mind? That’s why you couldn’t enter the vision well? Because you’re … you’re…”
He couldn’t bring himself to say the D word.
But Esther nodded sadly and finished his sentence for him. “…Dying.”
Finally, the truth dawned on Oliver. It was real. Esther really was dying.
Grief stabbed him through the chest. This wasn’t fair! Why Esther? After all the bad things he’d experienced in his life, why was the best thing he’d ever found going to be taken away from him?
Suddenly, he remembered the compass. There was one dial on it that had never moved; the one pointing at the boy and girl. Professor Nightingale said the image symbolized friendship. First love. And if the compass showed him the future, then his future was with Esther!
He stood suddenly, dropping her hand.
“Oliver,” Esther said, her voice strained. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to speak to Professor Amethyst. There has to be a way to save you.”
Tears sparkled in Esther’s eyes. “There’s not. I’ve already spoken to him. You have to accept this. I’m going to die.”
“No,” Oliver said, shaking his head with resolution. “You’re not. I won’t let you.”