I managed to hold my laughter until he got it right.
I followed the smell of buttered popcorn to the kitchen. Peeking my head around the corner, I found everyone in various stages of preparation: Cat still making check marks; Dune clicking a mouse repeatedly; and Kaleb, watching it all, his face drawn. A flurry of popping sounds echoed off the walls as Nate leaned over the counter, eyeing the microwave like it was his job.
Maybe it was.
“I need a ring.”
Michael almost dropped the bag of money he was counting when he heard my voice. He looked up at me, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
I shook off all thoughts of those lips and concentrated on the task at hand. “To travel. Duranium or whatever.”
“Duronium,” Cat corrected me.
“Yeah, that.”
“I’ve got you covered.” Kaleb fished in his pocket and pulled out a tiny ring, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. “I got it from the safe this morning.”
“I can’t take that,” I protested. “It’s your mom’s. Isn’t it?”
He reached out to catch my hand. “My mom isn’t … in a position to save my dad. You are. She’d want you to have it. This way, it’s like she’s a part of it, even if she isn’t here.”
Michael watched us from the corner. After what had happened upstairs, I expected jealousy, or at least a hint of it, but there was nothing.
I took the ring, slipped it onto my index finger, and looked up at Kaleb. “Perfect.”
“Perfect.”
The moment was interrupted when the timer on the microwave beeped.
“Okay, Emerson.” Cat bustled over and placed her hand on my back, ushering me to a seat at the table. “We’re going to give you a crash course in traveling. You’ll be with Michael, so you only need the basics, which is good. That’s all we have time for.”
“Do I need to take notes?” Nate placed the bowl of steaming popcorn on the table, and I grabbed a big handful. Comfort food. I stopped before tossing a piece into my mouth. “Can I eat this? Should I go in on an empty stomach?”
“It’s not surgery, just time travel,” Cat said.
“Just time travel,” I muttered under my breath, and then reached out with the other hand for more popcorn.
“Look around. Notice anything different?” Cat asked.
I obeyed and almost sucked a corn kernel down my throat. After Dune whacked me on the back and stopped my coughing, I pointed to a shimmering square of light hanging in the atmosphere. It was as tall as the ceiling and at least ten feet wide.
“Holy … It’s like a blanket made of water or something. And I can see it really, really clearly.”
“That’s one of the benefits of duronium. The way it interacts with your body chemistry helps you locate veils.” Michael got a can of soda from the fridge, opened it, and slid it across the table toward me. “Veils guard the entrance to bridges, and they’re kind of like a transition space or camo for travelers. Rips will stand out better for you now, too. When you’re wearing duronium, they shimmer around the edges.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this stuff when you were explaining rips? That day at the coffeehouse?” I gave Michael a pouty face, as I popped open the can.
“Because I wasn’t ready to explain time travel. And you weren’t ready to hear it.”
“True.”
“You’ll use this veil.” Cat pointed to the one three feet away, sparkling like sunlight on the ocean. “Dune’s research uncovered that this house was unoccupied at the time of Liam’s death.”
“I still don’t understand how we get where we want to go.”
Cat frowned. “You hold the date and exact time you want to travel to in your mind and step in. My exotic matter, your travel gene, and the duronium do the rest.”
I recalled the night I’d asked Michael if it was that easy and he’d given me his standard “It’s complicated” answer. “Really, Michael?”
“So you got that part right.” He shrugged and a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “But you were wrong about the other part.”
“What other part?”
“You don’t have to click your heels together three times.”
I launched the remaining popcorn in my hand toward his head.
“What about a time limit? Does time pass for you? Or us?”
Michael shook his dark hair, and popcorn fell to the table like giant buttery snowflakes. “It’s a two-to-one ratio. For every two hours we spend in the past or the future, one hour goes by here. It’s good because we can get more done when we’re gone, and it’s not as taxing on Cat. It’s bad because we come back older than we would have been.”
“I see.” I kind of did, anyway. “What else?”
“Those are the basics,” Cat said, dusting off her hands before wiping them on a paper towel. “Are you ready to go?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Suddenly I wished I hadn’t eaten quite so much popcorn. I wasn’t looking forward to tasting it twice.
Cat stood, purple fireball spinning.
Michael held a small duffel bag stuffed with money. The keys to his car were zipped into the pocket of my puffy jacket, and the keys to the science department were in his. The timetable was memorized but still in my right hand. My left hand held Michael’s.
Kaleb, Dune, and Nate stood by, everyone’s face tense. Kaleb’s was so tight it physically hurt to look at him.
Cat flicked her wrist.
Michael stepped into the veil.
I followed.
“Focus on the date and time.” Michael’s voice echoed through the tunnel. The watery look of the veil extended as far as I could see, highlighted by a light sheen of silver. I could almost see through the fluid circular walls, as if I had a window to watch time move past. “Are you focusing?”
Snapping my head forward, I concentrated on the date and time where we wanted to land. “Yes.”
“Good, because I’m useless right now. This is all you. The Emerson Show.”
“Couldn’t you come up with something better than that?”
“Focus, Em,” Michael reminded me.
“Don’t we need to walk, or something?”
“No. We stand still. Time flows around us.”
I’d expected the bridge to be loud, like hurricane winds or a roaring river. Instead, it was achingly quiet. Occasionally, the muffled sound of a voice or music seeped through the undulating walls, but always briefly. I squeezed my eyes shut, and guessed we were getting closer to the end when the sounds became more concentrated.
“We’re here,” Michael said, grasping me gently by the shoulder. “You did it.”
I opened my eyes. The veil shimmered in front of us, and I could see the room we’d just left, now empty and cloaked in darkness.
Chapter 42
Our breath froze in the night air as we hurried through the cold, Michael holding my hand as we walked to the parking lot where his car was parked.
“I was out of town when Liam died. I’m glad I didn’t drive,” he said, holding our joined hands up to his lips and blowing his hot breath onto them as we approached his car. “Makes it easier to get to the Hourglass.”
I followed the smell of buttered popcorn to the kitchen. Peeking my head around the corner, I found everyone in various stages of preparation: Cat still making check marks; Dune clicking a mouse repeatedly; and Kaleb, watching it all, his face drawn. A flurry of popping sounds echoed off the walls as Nate leaned over the counter, eyeing the microwave like it was his job.
Maybe it was.
“I need a ring.”
Michael almost dropped the bag of money he was counting when he heard my voice. He looked up at me, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
I shook off all thoughts of those lips and concentrated on the task at hand. “To travel. Duranium or whatever.”
“Duronium,” Cat corrected me.
“Yeah, that.”
“I’ve got you covered.” Kaleb fished in his pocket and pulled out a tiny ring, holding it between his thumb and forefinger. “I got it from the safe this morning.”
“I can’t take that,” I protested. “It’s your mom’s. Isn’t it?”
He reached out to catch my hand. “My mom isn’t … in a position to save my dad. You are. She’d want you to have it. This way, it’s like she’s a part of it, even if she isn’t here.”
Michael watched us from the corner. After what had happened upstairs, I expected jealousy, or at least a hint of it, but there was nothing.
I took the ring, slipped it onto my index finger, and looked up at Kaleb. “Perfect.”
“Perfect.”
The moment was interrupted when the timer on the microwave beeped.
“Okay, Emerson.” Cat bustled over and placed her hand on my back, ushering me to a seat at the table. “We’re going to give you a crash course in traveling. You’ll be with Michael, so you only need the basics, which is good. That’s all we have time for.”
“Do I need to take notes?” Nate placed the bowl of steaming popcorn on the table, and I grabbed a big handful. Comfort food. I stopped before tossing a piece into my mouth. “Can I eat this? Should I go in on an empty stomach?”
“It’s not surgery, just time travel,” Cat said.
“Just time travel,” I muttered under my breath, and then reached out with the other hand for more popcorn.
“Look around. Notice anything different?” Cat asked.
I obeyed and almost sucked a corn kernel down my throat. After Dune whacked me on the back and stopped my coughing, I pointed to a shimmering square of light hanging in the atmosphere. It was as tall as the ceiling and at least ten feet wide.
“Holy … It’s like a blanket made of water or something. And I can see it really, really clearly.”
“That’s one of the benefits of duronium. The way it interacts with your body chemistry helps you locate veils.” Michael got a can of soda from the fridge, opened it, and slid it across the table toward me. “Veils guard the entrance to bridges, and they’re kind of like a transition space or camo for travelers. Rips will stand out better for you now, too. When you’re wearing duronium, they shimmer around the edges.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this stuff when you were explaining rips? That day at the coffeehouse?” I gave Michael a pouty face, as I popped open the can.
“Because I wasn’t ready to explain time travel. And you weren’t ready to hear it.”
“True.”
“You’ll use this veil.” Cat pointed to the one three feet away, sparkling like sunlight on the ocean. “Dune’s research uncovered that this house was unoccupied at the time of Liam’s death.”
“I still don’t understand how we get where we want to go.”
Cat frowned. “You hold the date and exact time you want to travel to in your mind and step in. My exotic matter, your travel gene, and the duronium do the rest.”
I recalled the night I’d asked Michael if it was that easy and he’d given me his standard “It’s complicated” answer. “Really, Michael?”
“So you got that part right.” He shrugged and a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “But you were wrong about the other part.”
“What other part?”
“You don’t have to click your heels together three times.”
I launched the remaining popcorn in my hand toward his head.
“What about a time limit? Does time pass for you? Or us?”
Michael shook his dark hair, and popcorn fell to the table like giant buttery snowflakes. “It’s a two-to-one ratio. For every two hours we spend in the past or the future, one hour goes by here. It’s good because we can get more done when we’re gone, and it’s not as taxing on Cat. It’s bad because we come back older than we would have been.”
“I see.” I kind of did, anyway. “What else?”
“Those are the basics,” Cat said, dusting off her hands before wiping them on a paper towel. “Are you ready to go?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Suddenly I wished I hadn’t eaten quite so much popcorn. I wasn’t looking forward to tasting it twice.
Cat stood, purple fireball spinning.
Michael held a small duffel bag stuffed with money. The keys to his car were zipped into the pocket of my puffy jacket, and the keys to the science department were in his. The timetable was memorized but still in my right hand. My left hand held Michael’s.
Kaleb, Dune, and Nate stood by, everyone’s face tense. Kaleb’s was so tight it physically hurt to look at him.
Cat flicked her wrist.
Michael stepped into the veil.
I followed.
“Focus on the date and time.” Michael’s voice echoed through the tunnel. The watery look of the veil extended as far as I could see, highlighted by a light sheen of silver. I could almost see through the fluid circular walls, as if I had a window to watch time move past. “Are you focusing?”
Snapping my head forward, I concentrated on the date and time where we wanted to land. “Yes.”
“Good, because I’m useless right now. This is all you. The Emerson Show.”
“Couldn’t you come up with something better than that?”
“Focus, Em,” Michael reminded me.
“Don’t we need to walk, or something?”
“No. We stand still. Time flows around us.”
I’d expected the bridge to be loud, like hurricane winds or a roaring river. Instead, it was achingly quiet. Occasionally, the muffled sound of a voice or music seeped through the undulating walls, but always briefly. I squeezed my eyes shut, and guessed we were getting closer to the end when the sounds became more concentrated.
“We’re here,” Michael said, grasping me gently by the shoulder. “You did it.”
I opened my eyes. The veil shimmered in front of us, and I could see the room we’d just left, now empty and cloaked in darkness.
Chapter 42
Our breath froze in the night air as we hurried through the cold, Michael holding my hand as we walked to the parking lot where his car was parked.
“I was out of town when Liam died. I’m glad I didn’t drive,” he said, holding our joined hands up to his lips and blowing his hot breath onto them as we approached his car. “Makes it easier to get to the Hourglass.”
