By then some men were rushing from town, including Sellet the barber, who was the second-best bonesetter in town. They began shouting at Father to put down the knife, put down the boy, be glad that Kyokay was alive, there should be no killing, and after brandishing the knife a while to keep them back, Father finally gave in to Sellet’s obvious point that if Father kept him away, he couldn’t set Kyokay’s bones, which he could see from there were broken in many places.

“I need splints and leather thongs to tie them,” said Sellet. “Be a good father and fetch me what I need!”

“Don’t tell me how to be a good father!” roared Father, and it might have started up again except now there were six strong men looming around him, making it clear that they would tolerate no more nonsense from him. Two of them went into the house with him.

Sellet went to Kyokay all right, but the others went to young Umbo, who was now being held by his mother. Father might have struck with the flat, but the blade was still there, and it had cut willy-nilly all over young Umbo’s head and shoulders and arms.

“Nothing’s bleeding hard,” one of the men said. “But I think the skull is broken here. Look how it’s swelling, but it looks dented anyway.”

“I’m sorry, Enene,” said one man. “But I don’t like the look of his head.”

“Umbo saved me,” said Kyokay feebly, and then cried out in agony as Sellet pushed one of his bones into place. Father came out with thongs and bracing sticks that Umbo recognized as dismantled frames for stretching leather. He was still angry and Umbo could see that he wanted to kick young Umbo again.

“What are you doing?” said a man. Umbo couldn’t remember his name, though once he had known it. “One son all broken up, and this boy saved him, and you already broke his head. He may never be right again, you fool.”

“He was never right! He was never my son! I say it out loud—does he look like me? All the others do, but not him! And now he tried to get us to commit murder by his false accusation! That’s no son to me!”

They got the splints and thongs out of his hands and then he was roughly walked far from the scene. Mother continued to weep over young Umbo.

Only then did Umbo himself jump back in time just enough to allow him to arrive at the riverbank only moments after he had carried Kyokay up from the boat. With two boats on this side, it was easy enough to hop into the one he had just left and row urgently back to the other side.

Though there was no urgency. Only in his own heart and mind. He had all the time in the world, because he was not going to let this happen.

Umbo was coming up out of the water for the last time on his second day of swimming, when he saw a vision of himself standing on the shore only a few feet away.

“I’m not here! I’m not going to make two fools where one will do. You can’t do it. It’s a disaster.”

“What’s a disaster? You’re all right,” said Umbo.

The vision of future Umbo seemed distraught, about to cry, but also angry and ashamed and . . . urgent.

“I’m such a fool—and so are you!” cried the vision of Umbo. “It all works, you save him, his bones are broken, you take him home and leave him, but then he says that Umbo saved him, and so it makes me—us—young Umbo, it makes him look like a liar, like he knew Kyokay was alive and he lied to try to get them to kill Rigg and Father beat him—us—”

“Young Umbo,” prompted Umbo. “Beat him, of course.”

“Broke his skull,” said vision Umbo. “Maybe he’ll die. Maybe he’ll live and be . . . simple. Or crippled. But he’s sure not going on any trips with Rigg. It’s all undone. We just—I just ruined everything. You can’t do it! Don’t do it! Undo this future, you fool! Let him die!”

And then he was gone.

What could Umbo do but dry himself off and think about what his future self had said? Yes, that was a disaster. Of course Kyokay would know that it was Umbo who saved him. He wouldn’t be in any shape to notice how much taller and stronger he was. But Umbo couldn’t blame himself for rushing Kyokay home. It’s what they always did when Kyokay injured himself. Rush him home, take him to Mother, then let Father yell and beat on somebody for not watching Kyokay, even though everybody else knew that you couldn’t watch Kyokay because he would do what he wanted no matter what.

Future Umbo was wrong, though. In the rush of emotion after saving Kyokay, he had hurried home to Mother and that was the disastrous mistake. Not saving Kyokay, but taking him home.

Now that Umbo knew he could save Kyokay, he wasn’t going to unsave him because future Umbo was a hysterical mess. He had just watched Father beat his younger self. It made Umbo sick with fury even now. He hated that man—not his real father at all. Just Tegay, master cobbler, wife beater, child beater, and evil fool.

But I didn’t see it. I didn’t just save my brother from the water. I can think more clearly, and I’m going to save Kyokay and leave the future unchanged.

It meant he would skip a bit of practice swimming to make a few more preparations. He would need more blankets. He would need a much heavier knife than his everyday knife, or the jeweled knife that he rarely used and feared to break. But that was a simple matter, to swim across the river in the night and steal the heavy leather-cutting knife from Father’s—Tegay’s—workbench. Sharp. Yes, Tegay was kind and caring to his tools. Anything it touched, it would cut.

It might also rust, since it got plenty of underwater time as Umbo swam back across. When he stole blankets, though, he had to use the boat to ferry them, then use the pulley line to haul it back across to the far side. Couldn’t have wet blankets for this.

He cached everything near the ferry, then went back to swimming and watching.

He saw the tale unfold—Kyokay running to the stone stair, Umbo following after, but too far away. Kyokay laughing, knowing he was doing something stupid and wrong, but delighting in it.

But there was now an added complication. Umbo knew that when he had done this the first time, everything had worked out well enough—broken bones, but alive, not drowned. Now, though, besides trying to concentrate on the things he had planned to do, he had this nagging doubt: Am I doing it exactly as I did it before? Or slower? Or wrong somehow? Will I fail now, though I succeeded before?

Kyokay fell. Umbo slowed him so much he was afraid he might exhaust himself so he’d have nothing left to slow time for himself as he swam. But how could he do less than his strongest, fiercest effort? What good would it do to save strength for later, if he didn’t keep Kyokay alive now?

Kyokay twisted himself in midair so his legs would enter the water first. Smart boy, thought Umbo. Don’t get your head anywhere near those rocks.

Umbo plunged into the water and swam directly to where Kyokay was being churned by the water. His legs were broken, feebly waving around with extra bendings. And a dark patch spreading from one leg made it clear that a bone had broken the skin. Can’t worry about infection now.

He got to Kyokay and the boy was able to grip his hand, then cling to his shoulders as Umbo swam strongly to shore. He dragged him up out of the water and realized at once that he couldn’t leave that bone sticking out. He used the jeweled knife to slice open Kyokay’s trouser and then he gripped the boy strongly and pulled the bottom of his leg away far enough to put the jutting bone back in place. Then he tied strips of Kyokay’s own trouser leg around the wound to keep the leg from moving and to keep the wound closed. It was a ragged job and if it wasn’t fixed soon, if the bones knit back together as Umbo had left them, Kyokay would never walk right again. But he was alive.