Gone was the brief blip of comfort I felt at returning to this place. Now, I felt antsy and on edge. I felt like I should’ve stayed with Marcus on Bainbridge, like I shouldn’t have been here. Must be the hormones, I thought, shaking my head. Likely, they were to blame for all of it—the weird feeling, the dream, my irritation with Marcus for agreeing to let me go …
Finally, Kat cleared her throat. “Thanks,” she said quietly. When I turned my head to look at her, I found her still staring out the window.
I studied her profile, not for the first time searching for the similarities between us that others claimed were so obvious when they saw us together. I supposed it wasn’t surprising; we were half-sisters through Set, after all, though I still had a hard time seeing the resemblance with either Kat or my other known half-sibling, Dominic. I figured it was psychological—I’d met both of them thinking they were strangers, unrelated to me in any way. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
“Thanks for what?” I asked, smiling to myself. I was glad I’d been so wrong, because I adored both of these strangers-turned-siblings more than I ever could have imagined.
“Just, you know …” Kat shrugged and shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable. “For, like—I don’t know.” She wiped her hands on her cutoffs and looked at me for the first time since moving up a seat. The usual luster in her eyes was dimmed, her whole spunky demeanor somehow wilted. Even her crown of a bun seemed a little droopy.
“Hey.” I reached over and gave her an awkward side hug. “I’m glad you’re here, Kit-Kat.”
She gave me a doubtful look. “Really?”
“Really,” I said, pulling back but keeping my arm partially draped over her shoulders. “It’s a relief to have a break from Serious, Serious-er, and Serious-est out there. At least with you here I know I’ll have someone to laugh with.”
She perked up visibly. “Why are they all always so serious, anyway?” She smiled wanly and tucked her phone into her jeans pocket. “I mean, what’s the point in living forever if you’re allergic to fun?”
I snorted and rolled my eyes. “I’m not positive”—I met her gaze conspiratorially—“considering I’m only eight months into forever, but I’m starting to think that the definition of ‘fun’ changes several centuries in. We’ll catch up eventually.”
“Or we’ll remind them of how they used to be,” Kat said, her eyes twinkling. All signs of glassy-eyed sadness were gone, her luster and spunk returned in full-force.
At a tap on the window on my side, we both jumped. Nik gave the “all clear” thumbs-up, and Kat and I pushed open our doors.
“In the future, maybe try not to give the pregnant invalid a heart attack,” I muttered to Nik.
He blinked, his expression blank. “I never said you were an invalid.” He shut the Range Rover’s door as I adjusted my patchwork leather shoulder bag and looked around for Dominic. “I believe that was your word … that you’ve now used twice.”
“I said I wasn’t one and that’s not the point,” I said in a huff, crossing my arms over my chest.
Nik paused, his hand still on the side of the car, and gave me a curious look. He cocked his head to the side and took a step toward me, his irises fading from pale blue to opalescent white as Re took over. “Are you feeling alright, Alexandra? You seem unusually agitated today. Is it the hormones?”
“Duuuuude,” Kat said as she rounded the back of the Range Rover. “You did not just tell a pregnant lady she’s being too hormonal, did you?”
I looked from Kat to Re-Nik to Kat and back, then blew out a breath. “He did, but it’s okay—he’s right.” I relaxed my arms at my sides and shook my head. “I don’t know if it’s the hormones, or what, but …” I shrugged. “The past few nights I’ve had this dream … about an accident that happened right there,” I said, pointing to the spot by the road some fifty yards away. “I had the same dream last year—it was my first echo, and it was of a possible future that never actually happened, but still … the dream was troubling and I’ve been on edge ever since, like I’m waiting for the accident to really happen, which is ridiculous, because it was supposed to happen last winter, and it never did.” I hiked my bag up higher on my shoulder. “And I guess being here is just making me antsier. So, yeah …”
“You dreamed of this bygone possibility last night, you said?” Re-Nik asked.
Biting my lip, I nodded.
“Was it simply a regular dream, or an At-dream?”
“Well …” I frowned. “Honestly, it felt like an At-dream.”
Re-Nik’s eyes narrowed, the corners of his mouth turning down in a frown. “Such a thing should be impossible, and I do not use that word lightly.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, not sure I wanted the answer.
Re-Nik took his time, filling the silence with more thoughtful squinting and a several-thousand-mile stare. “All unfulfilled future possibilities disappear from the At the moment they are passed by.” He paused for several heartbeats, and it felt like forever. “I know this may sound confusing, but that echo—a bygone possibility of a future that never happened—should not exist anymore.”
“So it was just a dream then,” Kat said. “Case closed.”
Both of them stared at me, waiting for a response I couldn’t give them. Because I felt fairly certain that it had been an At-dream, and that was precisely why it had been bothering me so much. According to Re, I shouldn’t have been able to view an echo of Dr. Ramirez being hit by a car last December because Dr. Ramirez hadn’t been hit by a car, and the echo should have winked out of existence when the moment passed. And yet … “I, um—I’m not sure.”
“You are not sure of what, Lex?” Dominic asked as he jogged around the front of the car.
“It’s a long story,” I said, frustration evident in my tone. I could only think of one way to set my overactive imagination and buzzing nerves to rest—I needed to venture into the At and examine the echo in question. When it showed me making my solo, uneventful trip to get coffee without Dr. Ramirez getting hit by a car, then I’d know once and for all that it had truly been a dream and that I was getting myself worked up over nothing.
“I have to check the At,” I told the others. Upon taking in my companions’ question-and doubt-filled faces, I added, “I can’t explain why, but I have to do this.”
It was Nik who nodded first, then Kat. Dominic returned my stare, his dark eyes hard, his expression set. “The At is unstable; I will accompany you.”
I wasn’t surprised and didn’t argue. I was anxious enough about this particular trip into the At not to want to argue, and it would go a long way to setting my jumpy nerves at ease to have him there with me.
“Alright,” I said, easing myself down onto the hot pavement and sitting cross-legged. I reached up for Dominic to join me on the ground, flashing him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “Let’s get this over with.”
Because I felt certain that as soon as I proved to myself that all was as it should be, the mounting sense of waiting for something to happen would evaporate. All of this echo-dream dread and confusion would be behind us, and we’d be able to enjoy ourselves, worry free. I felt certain of it … ish.
4
See & Believe
“Oh my God, Dr. Ramirez!” Horrified and filled with disbelief so intense it was verging on denial, I watched a past version of myself stumble toward my graduate advisor’s lifeless body. This couldn’t be happening. There was no way. Except it was happening. Right before my eyes, some false version of the past was playing out in an echo that couldn’t exist. Unless …
I froze the impossible echo and turned to face Dominic. Our hands were linked, enabling us to maintain our connection in the echo—a necessity now that the At was far from stable. “It could be a false echo,” I told him. “Someone could’ve created the whole thing.”
Dominic pressed his lips together, thinning them further, and scanned the paused scene surrounding us. “Possibly, but it does not hav
e the feel of a false echo,” he said. And he would know. We both had the somewhat rare ability to manipulate the At—create cloaks to hide something in an echo or fabricate whole, new echoes entirely—but Dominic had a lot more experience with the skill, more than four centuries’ worth of experience.
“Well …” I pursed my lips and moved them from side to side as I thought. A drizzle of rain trailed within arm’s distance in front of me, and I reached out to tap the delicate strand of frozen-in-time water, what looked like the most delicate icicle in existence. “If someone created a false echo in this time and place, for whatever reason, it’s much more likely that they altered the echo because of my presence, not because of Dr. Ramirez’s, don’t you think?”
Dominic nodded slowly. “Considering you’re not only Nejerette but the Meswett, yes, I’d say that’s a fair assumption.”
“Good, that’s good,” I said, some of the threads of worry that had wrapped around my heart loosening. This was about me, not Dr. Ramirez. For whatever reason, that made me feel better. And yet, those strands of worry were still there, intermixed with doubt and dread. I offered Dominic a wan smile. “Still, wouldn’t hurt to check how far this thing reaches”
Dominic frowned, just a little, but before he could say anything, I jumped forward an hour. The echo darkened as the day grew later. It was no longer raining, but the street and sidewalks were still wet, the red, blue, and white police and ambulance lights reflecting on their shimmering surfaces.
Because according to this echo, the accident had still happened. My heart clenched.
Abandoning this location, I switched my focus to Dr. Ramirez himself. Like my grandfather, Alexander, I was a tracker—if I focused on any specific person or object, I could track said person or object through the entire span of time the person or object had existed. Finding when Dr. Ramirez popped back into existence seemed to me the simplest way to figure out how far-reaching this mangled portion of the At truly was.
Except Dr. Ramirez supposedly didn’t exist during the rest of the day of the accident, or the day after. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and squeezed Dominic’s hand. On our own, we were each extremely powerful Nejerets, thanks to Set’s almost pristine bloodline, but when our bas worked together, when we pooled our Nejeret power, our collective control over the At was pretty damn flawless. And with the At’s current instability, that was something I needed right about now.
I pushed forward in time, keeping my focus on Dr. Ramirez. He continued to not exist the days following the accident, and the week after. He didn’t exist a month out, or two months … or three.
“This can’t be happening,” I said, panic making my voice thready. “Nobody would go to the trouble to erase him like this—it would take forever to do this.”
“It’s been done before,” Dominic said, his thickening accent telling me that he was battling his own growing concern.
“Yeah, but that was Hitler. Apep wanted the chaos he would bring to the world … but Dr. Ramirez is just a professor of archaeology. What could he possibly do in the future that would make someone—anyone—want to hide his actions by erasing his existence from the day of the ‘accident’ on?”
“It is impossible to see that which has been hidden,” Dominic said. “I do not mean to trouble you further, Lex, but is it possible that something has since happened to your Dr. Ramirez, and that only a small period of time was altered in the At?”
I shook my head adamantly. “He’s not really dead, Dom. I mean, we just exchanged emails a few days ago.” I fought my rising panic. “He’s the whole reason this day trip turned into a group excursion rather than just Neffe coming out here to do her research alone.” I was fully aware that Dominic knew all of this, but some part of me was convinced that if my words could banish the doubt in his midnight eyes, everything would be alright.
Dominic hesitated to speak, but his lips eventually parted, and the words that left his mouth elicited a whole new maelstrom of panic. “Anyone can send an email, Lex … they just need access to the account.”
5
Bad & Worse
“Lex, wait!” Dominic yelled after me as I raced across the small parking lot toward the pathway that edged around the side of Denny Hall.
“I have to know,” I shouted over my shoulder, my sandals slapping against the asphalt.
“Know what?” Nik asked a moment before his hand latched onto my arm and he pulled me to a halt. I was still a few strides from the curb, couldn’t even see the steep steps leading up to the anthropology building’s front doors, and acting on instinct I yanked to free my arm. The attempt was pointless; Nik’s grip was unyielding.
“I have to make sure he’s okay,” I told my ancient friend, pleading with my voice and eyes and more useless tugs against his grip. “Let go, Nik, please.”
“Do not let her go,” Dominic said as he strode toward us, Kat close behind him. “She could be running into a trap. I can’t believe we were so careless.”
Nik’s expression hardened. “What did you find in the At?”
“Let me go and I’ll tell you,” I said, feeling both obstinate and defeated. Dominic was right—my instinctive reaction had been reckless and would’ve endangered not only myself but Marcus and our unborn children, as well. I pressed my free hand against my lower abdomen in silent apology.
Not a heartbeat later, I caught the eye of a lone coed crossing the mouth of the small lot. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket, her face an open question. Did I need help? Should she call the police? Considering Nik’s appearance and the way he was restraining me, not to mention Dominic and Kat’s presence nearby, almost looking like they’d come over to suss out the situation, I couldn’t blame the young woman for jumping to such conclusions.
I shook my head at her, offering her a small smile of thanks. Between clenched teeth, I said, “Let go, Nik, before someone tries to play hero …”
Nik’s eyes tensed, but he did let go. After he’d stepped around me to block my access to the pathway, of course. Despite my title of Meswett, prophesied girl-child and savior to our people, and my honorary position on the Council of Seven, sometimes I felt more like a prisoner than a leader. And by sometimes, I meant most of the time. How well the Council had ignored my input this morning about their debate over Re-Nik joining them being an exercise in futility was further proof of that.
Nik leaned in closer to me, his words as sharp and heated as the determination in his pale blue eyes. “Everything I do, I do to keep you safe. Everything.” His unwavering gaze shifted from me to Dominic and back. “Now tell me what happened in the At.”
I quickly relayed what we had—and hadn’t—discovered, making sure he understood just how important it was to me to make sure Dr. Ramirez was okay. One way or another, I was determined to get eyes into Denny Hall to check on him.
Nik was quiet for a long moment, then let out a heavy sigh. “Sorry, Lex, but I’m inclined to agree with Dom here, and so is Re. There’s no way you’re going in there now.”
“But—”
Nik crossed his arms, flashing me one of his fresher tattoos—an evergreen tree line ringing his forearm in an array of black and grays.
Shoulders slumping, I slunk away from him toward our car and settled, once more, on the sun-warmed asphalt. Part of me was starting to wonder if they were right, if something had happened to Dr. Ramirez, something hidden under the apparent cluster of false echoes, and the person I’d been emailing with to set up this meeting had, in reality, been an imposter.
Dominic followed me and stood between me and the midday sun, his shadow a cool contrast to the warm asphalt. “Do you still have his number, Lex?”
I looked up at him, eyebrows raised in question. “Dr. Ramirez’s?”
He nodded.
“Yes.”
“Well, it’s simple then.” Dominic sat on the ground beside me. It was the perfect balm for my agitated mood—his presence always had an almost magically calming effect on my troubl
ed soul. “Call Dr. Ramirez,” he said. “If he answers, then we’ll know he’s alright and that the meeting is benign enough.”
I searched his eyes, the blackish-brown hue of his irises speckled with bronze in the sunlight, seeking answers he couldn’t know. “But the At … even if he answers, something’s still wrong with what the At thinks happened last winter.”
Dominic’s shoulders rose and fell and his head moved from side to side. “It’s something we’ll have analyzed when we get back.”
“But—but—”
“It’ll be okay, Lex,” Kat said, sitting on the ground on the other side of me and taking my hand in hers. “We’ll figure this out.”
Nik took several steps toward the nearest pine tree in the foliage bordering the lot and placed his hand against its rough bark. “I have, in rare occasions in the past, noticed an odd occurrence when certain of my more notable and powerful descendants manifested.” From the accent and cadence of his words, it was obvious that Re had taken over. “They create something of a disturbance in the At surrounding the first few echoes they viewed. It happened with Nik, of course,” Re-Nik said, touching his own chest, “as well as with all of my direct children and some of their children, such as Heru, Aset, and Set. Over time, I came to believe that it meant those individuals would have a distinct effect on the events to come, that their presence in the At would be disproportionately significant.”
My eyebrows drew together. “So you think because that echo with Dr. Ramirez getting hit by a car was the first one I viewed, I might have disrupted it to the point of changing all of the following related echoes as well?” It sounded like a stretch to me, but then, so did my whole life.
“I have never seen such a far-reaching disruption, but considering your significance to maintaining ma’at—universal balance quite literally depends on the fates of you and the children you carry—I can’t bring myself to believe that such a large disturbance in the At is out of the realm of possibility.” The answer was so much like Nuin—Re’s original Nejeret host—that my heart warmed. Nuin had always had the damndest time admitting that he simply didn’t know something.
Dissonance: An Echo Trilogy Novella (Echo Trilogy, #2.5) Page 3
