To Loop the Loop the Loop

Quentin ran until he found a tree with one of the Watcherwoman's clocks, inset into the tree's trunk. He caught his breath, thought, It can't get any worse, and aimed his strongest battle-magic spell, to destroy the clock. The bolt of energy ricocheted off the face, and cut a branch from the tree.

He rolled his eyes, then had to shield them as a wind began to whip through the glade, tearing at the tree's foliage.

"Quentin?"

As the wind dissipated, he looked beyond the tree. Jane Chatwin, all grown up, stood there, wearing the black cloak of the Watcherwoman, and seemed confused.

"Jane? What are you doing, here?"

"You were playing with one of my clocks."

"What? Wait. Oh! What?! I should've put that together. I was expecting to get ripped apart by some evil bitch—Sorry! I didn't know, it was you."

"Quite alright. So, you and your friends are all here again? What's going on?"

Quentin collected his thoughts, then word-vomited at Jane. "Everyone is getting ready for the shit storm; we've got a lot to do, before we do this thing. But, I need help. I know about the time loops that you keep making."

"As you should, by now."

Quentin felt stupid, and stammered. "Right. And, there have been twenty-nine others."

"And...?"

"And, well, I figured, we were out of gods and superwitches. I figured, she'd kill me, but I came here to ask for the Watcherwoman's help—not that it matters, now, 'cause it's you. It's just, this is the last time, and—"

"Why is this the last one?"

"Oh,..." Quentin paused, hating himself, unsure about how to continue. "Uhm—uh—well, you—uh—die, this time."

Jane's face paled as though someone had just walked on her grave. Her response sounded of incredulous grief, a breathy catch. "Huh...I see." Then, she began to recover. "Do I die, doing something brave?"

Quentin was as sober as he had ever been. "Very."

"Right, then. Well, what made you think the Watcherwoman would want to help?"

"'Cause she—you—you watch. And, unless you—she—you—actually do something...Fillory is dying, and I don't—Hang on! Hang on." His mind was swimming in circles, but he could feel a faint idea forming.

Quentin stepped closer. "Jane, can you send me to a specific place, a—uh—specific time, just like, there?"

She squinted her eyes at him and responded slowly. "Yes. But, what do you want with—?"

"And, I need you to stick around, right now, and wait for me. I need to do something, first, before you do that."

"Quentin, you need to tell me what you're planning."

"No, I don't. What if I can fix everything, before it all resets?"

"You have my attenti—"

"Also, you need to figure out a way for me to talk to Ember."

Jane's cheeks began to color. "How on Earth am I supposed to do that? The Beast has blocked Ember from Fillory."

Quentin was on a roll. "Not my problem, but it needs to happen. Thanks."

"Is that everything?"

"No, Jane, that's not everything. I need you to loop me."

Jane winced.