Timepiece
Page 16
Leaning back in her chair, she called over her shoulder, “Sophie, will you throw me my glasses?”
Lily caught them one-handed and slid them on without ever putting down her tea.
I picked up a cookie. Peanut butter. “That was a really impressive catch for a girl.”
She leaned over so far her nose almost touched the photo. “Your mouth is talking. You might want to look to that.”
I bit into the cookie and ignored her. “Need a magnifying glass?”
“Yes.” She abruptly put down her tea, went to the children’s section, dug around in a bin, and pulled out a book. It was roughly the same size as our tabletop and had photos of magnets, microscopes, and graph paper on the front. “There’s supposed to be a plastic magnifier in here, unless some little rug rat stole it. Aha.”
She gently removed it, careful not to damage the book, and held it above the picture. I scooted my chair closer to her and caught the scent of vanilla and peppermint.
“You’re sure he keeps the watch with him all the time?” She looked at me from the corner of her eye. “The engraving is detailed. It looks really valuable.”
I put down the cookie, dusted off my hands, and reached for the magnifier. “May I?”
When she handed it over, I held the picture up to the light and studied the engraving.
Infinity symbols.
“It looks like duronium,” I said.
The duronium disc my parents had made for me when I turned sixteen was in my pocket, just like always. I felt for it from habit, reassured by the shape, if not the sentiment engraved on it. Hope.
“Aren’t the rings Michael and Em wear made of duronium?” Lily asked. “Em said it’s so rare I’d never see it on a periodic table.”
I handed the magnifier back to her. “It is rare, and really hard to come by. The general public doesn’t know about it. Neither does most of the scientific community.”
She closed the book and put it on an empty chair. “Why?”
“No one can explain its properties. Not even my dad.”
Fragments of information started sewing themselves together in my mind. Jack had a duronium pocket watch, and he was able to hide in veils. He’d used them to disguise himself when he first approached Emerson last summer. Poe had a duronium knife. He was able to pull Emerson into a veil, kill her, and then bring her out again without any repercussions.
“How did Jack end up with duronium if it’s so rare?” Lily asked.
“No idea. I’ve never looked at his pocket watch up close. Jack and I avoided each other, kind of like never and always.” I took my duronium disc out of my pocket and held it tightly in the palm of my hand. “I don’t know if the pocket watch has always been duronium. He could have replaced another piece that was silver.”
The shop was crowded when I came in, but now things were starting to thin out. Out of nowhere, I got the weird feeling that someone was watching me. I looked around the shop, and then outside. All I could see was a man reading a newspaper. He’d been there when I came in, a full cup of steaming coffee in front of him. I kept staring, and he lowered the paper.
Blond hair. Cold blue eyes. Gratified smile. Pocket watch in hand.
Jack.
I pushed back in my chair, shaking the table. Lily grabbed her mug of tea to keep it from toppling to the floor. “Hey! What’s going on?”
One second he was there, the next he was gone. I rushed to the front door, slinging it open so hard the hinges squeaked in protest. There was a veil beside the table where he’d been sitting. He’d left a message on a white napkin, written in black ink.
Now you see him, now you don’t.
Chapter 14
Lily burst through the front door of Murphy’s Law. “Was that …?”
“Yes.” I shoved the napkin with the cryptic message into my pocket. I didn’t want her to see what Jack had written, or the threat it implied. That he was everywhere.
“I looked right at him. Served him coffee. I touched him.” She shuddered and rubbed her upper arms. “But I didn’t recognize him.”
“He’s playing a game. It’s what he does. Exposes weaknesses and dangles possibilities.” I leaned against the window. The coolness of the plate glass on my back was a welcome relief. But the second I started to relax, Lily’s tension jumped up and punched me in the gut. “Something else is bothering you. What is it?”
She leaned against the window beside me. “Did you just read me?”
“Like I could help it.” I gave her the side-eye. “You’re shooting off anxiety like fireworks shoot off sparks.”
“Your dad called earlier.” She sighed. “I wasn’t going to tell you.”
“Uh-oh.” I turned my head to look at her. “Which one of us is in trouble?”
“I tested positive for the time gene.” Her laugh was short and bitter, and she dropped her face into her hands. Her fingernails were short, perfect ovals. “This day. What’s next? Blood-filled water? A plague of locusts?”
“Apocalyptical references?” I crossed my arms and stared back out into the afternoon traffic. A red sports car kept driving around the town square, either on a joy ride or lost. “That bad, huh?”
“I think I’ll classify you in the boils category.”
“Ow.”
“Okay,” she said, relenting. “Maybe frogs.”
“You know what happens when you kiss a frog, don’t you?” I asked, appreciating the moment of levity in the middle of disaster.
“I think they pee.” She stepped forward into my line of vision, her hands on her hips. “Your dad’s phone call didn’t surprise you.”
I shook my head. “Nothing does anymore.”
“Why?”
“Something’s … off. In our world.” I didn’t want to say “wrong,” because that would be like saying “Welcome to hell, now with hotter fire.”
“Off? That’s all you have to say?” She threw her hands into the air in defeat. “That’s sad. I thought you and I’d come to an agreement.”
“What kind of agreement?” I couldn’t understand why she felt so let down.
“That you’ll tell me the truth.” She pursed her lips.
Even though we didn’t like each other, that bottom lip was still tantalizing. “I’m not exactly known for honesty.”
“This is different. We’re working together for a common goal. I’m not a conquest,” she said, “or even a possibility, so please be real with me.”
Uncommon request. “Okay.”
“I think my Ivy Springs as Freak Magnet theory is correct,” she said. Her hair was twisted up into a sloppy bun. “Three people from the same hometown with a time gene?”
“Technically, my hometown is Memphis.”
“Really, Kaleb?”
“Just keeping it specific.” I made a motion of surrender.
“It doesn’t matter if we were physically born here, we were attracted here. Magnet.” Lily drew the word out, speaking with precise enunciation as she touched her pointer fingers together.
I tried not to laugh. “What’s the other possibility?”
Lily caught them one-handed and slid them on without ever putting down her tea.
I picked up a cookie. Peanut butter. “That was a really impressive catch for a girl.”
She leaned over so far her nose almost touched the photo. “Your mouth is talking. You might want to look to that.”
I bit into the cookie and ignored her. “Need a magnifying glass?”
“Yes.” She abruptly put down her tea, went to the children’s section, dug around in a bin, and pulled out a book. It was roughly the same size as our tabletop and had photos of magnets, microscopes, and graph paper on the front. “There’s supposed to be a plastic magnifier in here, unless some little rug rat stole it. Aha.”
She gently removed it, careful not to damage the book, and held it above the picture. I scooted my chair closer to her and caught the scent of vanilla and peppermint.
“You’re sure he keeps the watch with him all the time?” She looked at me from the corner of her eye. “The engraving is detailed. It looks really valuable.”
I put down the cookie, dusted off my hands, and reached for the magnifier. “May I?”
When she handed it over, I held the picture up to the light and studied the engraving.
Infinity symbols.
“It looks like duronium,” I said.
The duronium disc my parents had made for me when I turned sixteen was in my pocket, just like always. I felt for it from habit, reassured by the shape, if not the sentiment engraved on it. Hope.
“Aren’t the rings Michael and Em wear made of duronium?” Lily asked. “Em said it’s so rare I’d never see it on a periodic table.”
I handed the magnifier back to her. “It is rare, and really hard to come by. The general public doesn’t know about it. Neither does most of the scientific community.”
She closed the book and put it on an empty chair. “Why?”
“No one can explain its properties. Not even my dad.”
Fragments of information started sewing themselves together in my mind. Jack had a duronium pocket watch, and he was able to hide in veils. He’d used them to disguise himself when he first approached Emerson last summer. Poe had a duronium knife. He was able to pull Emerson into a veil, kill her, and then bring her out again without any repercussions.
“How did Jack end up with duronium if it’s so rare?” Lily asked.
“No idea. I’ve never looked at his pocket watch up close. Jack and I avoided each other, kind of like never and always.” I took my duronium disc out of my pocket and held it tightly in the palm of my hand. “I don’t know if the pocket watch has always been duronium. He could have replaced another piece that was silver.”
The shop was crowded when I came in, but now things were starting to thin out. Out of nowhere, I got the weird feeling that someone was watching me. I looked around the shop, and then outside. All I could see was a man reading a newspaper. He’d been there when I came in, a full cup of steaming coffee in front of him. I kept staring, and he lowered the paper.
Blond hair. Cold blue eyes. Gratified smile. Pocket watch in hand.
Jack.
I pushed back in my chair, shaking the table. Lily grabbed her mug of tea to keep it from toppling to the floor. “Hey! What’s going on?”
One second he was there, the next he was gone. I rushed to the front door, slinging it open so hard the hinges squeaked in protest. There was a veil beside the table where he’d been sitting. He’d left a message on a white napkin, written in black ink.
Now you see him, now you don’t.
Chapter 14
Lily burst through the front door of Murphy’s Law. “Was that …?”
“Yes.” I shoved the napkin with the cryptic message into my pocket. I didn’t want her to see what Jack had written, or the threat it implied. That he was everywhere.
“I looked right at him. Served him coffee. I touched him.” She shuddered and rubbed her upper arms. “But I didn’t recognize him.”
“He’s playing a game. It’s what he does. Exposes weaknesses and dangles possibilities.” I leaned against the window. The coolness of the plate glass on my back was a welcome relief. But the second I started to relax, Lily’s tension jumped up and punched me in the gut. “Something else is bothering you. What is it?”
She leaned against the window beside me. “Did you just read me?”
“Like I could help it.” I gave her the side-eye. “You’re shooting off anxiety like fireworks shoot off sparks.”
“Your dad called earlier.” She sighed. “I wasn’t going to tell you.”
“Uh-oh.” I turned my head to look at her. “Which one of us is in trouble?”
“I tested positive for the time gene.” Her laugh was short and bitter, and she dropped her face into her hands. Her fingernails were short, perfect ovals. “This day. What’s next? Blood-filled water? A plague of locusts?”
“Apocalyptical references?” I crossed my arms and stared back out into the afternoon traffic. A red sports car kept driving around the town square, either on a joy ride or lost. “That bad, huh?”
“I think I’ll classify you in the boils category.”
“Ow.”
“Okay,” she said, relenting. “Maybe frogs.”
“You know what happens when you kiss a frog, don’t you?” I asked, appreciating the moment of levity in the middle of disaster.
“I think they pee.” She stepped forward into my line of vision, her hands on her hips. “Your dad’s phone call didn’t surprise you.”
I shook my head. “Nothing does anymore.”
“Why?”
“Something’s … off. In our world.” I didn’t want to say “wrong,” because that would be like saying “Welcome to hell, now with hotter fire.”
“Off? That’s all you have to say?” She threw her hands into the air in defeat. “That’s sad. I thought you and I’d come to an agreement.”
“What kind of agreement?” I couldn’t understand why she felt so let down.
“That you’ll tell me the truth.” She pursed her lips.
Even though we didn’t like each other, that bottom lip was still tantalizing. “I’m not exactly known for honesty.”
“This is different. We’re working together for a common goal. I’m not a conquest,” she said, “or even a possibility, so please be real with me.”
Uncommon request. “Okay.”
“I think my Ivy Springs as Freak Magnet theory is correct,” she said. Her hair was twisted up into a sloppy bun. “Three people from the same hometown with a time gene?”
“Technically, my hometown is Memphis.”
“Really, Kaleb?”
“Just keeping it specific.” I made a motion of surrender.
“It doesn’t matter if we were physically born here, we were attracted here. Magnet.” Lily drew the word out, speaking with precise enunciation as she touched her pointer fingers together.
I tried not to laugh. “What’s the other possibility?”
