“That’s what I thought.”
“Who is Carrington Day?” Connor asks.
“The correct question would be what is Carrington Day.”
“Okay, what is Carrington Day?”
“Carrington Day School is merging with Briar Hill,” Dad says. “It was decided back in January, right after I started teaching. In this timeline, at any rate. Kate didn’t remember it.”
“As I discovered last night, Carrington Day is a Cyrist school. I don’t know if it’s officially owned by the Cyrists, but the party was held at the home of Eve Conwell. Her grandparents have this larger-than-life painting of Prudence in their living room, with her pregnant belly sticking out. It was like looking in a weird fun-house mirror.”
“So I take it you didn’t stay long,” Dad says.
“Correct. Trey needed to speak with this teacher who’s retiring from Briar Hill, but we left just after.”
“Harvey Tilson, right? He’s been out on sick leave since I started teaching.”
“Yes. Whoever decided to hold his retirement party and the Carrington Day welcome at the same time clearly didn’t ask for his input. He was livid. Said he’d spent decades researching those charlatans, and let’s just say he thinks the merger is a bad idea. That it’ll turn Briar Hill into a propaganda tool.”
“That probably is a risk for science, although I’d think it’s a bigger issue for social sciences. But I doubt it will affect my department. How would you politicize math?”
Connor snorts. “There are always the word problems, Harry. ‘You have ten apples. You give one apple to Cyrus. How many do you have now?’ And the correct answer will be, ‘It depends. If you only have nine, Cyrus does not find you worthy.’ ”
We toss around a few more word problem possibilities. None of them are particularly funny, and Connor’s quip about subtracting the unfaithful from the global population is gallows humor, pure and simple.
“Well,” Connor says finally, “this definitely means you won’t be going to school.”
“No, it doesn’t. Eve’s memory wasn’t wiped—she remembered our encounter at the temple. And Prudence seems to be using her as a messenger. They’re watching me, and I don’t think Pru’s exactly happy with what she’s seeing. I don’t know if this has to do with me working with Kiernan or what, but Eve said my aunt was very concerned that I focus on my studies, instead of what she called ‘extracurricular activities.’ Which reminds me, have you noticed the blue van outside? The one that’s always parked at the curb?”
“You mean the one that belongs to the guy next door?” Connor asks.
“I guess. You’re sure about that? I’ve gotten a weird feeling . . .”
“Yes. I’ve talked to the guy. Kate, you know as well as I do that the Cyrists don’t need a surveillance van to see who’s coming and going. All they have to do is set up a stable point and have someone with the CHRONOS gene monitor it for activity.”
“Yes. But you can’t hear them. For that, you’d need the type of equipment that you might be able to hide in a van. But whether they’re watching from a van or a stable point doesn’t matter—either way, they’ll know if I’m not going to school. We’re in a state of truce right now. If they see me stepping out of line, things are going to heat up really, really fast.”
“All the more reason to hunker down and get this over with,” Connor says.
Dad gives me a meaningful glance over his shoulder. Your call, don’t let him bully you.
“Maybe,” I say. “But school starts on Tuesday, which leaves today and Labor Day. I’m still researching the other two jumps, and there are only so many times I can repeat the same day. I pulled several seventy-two-hour days last week, and unless I start sleeping in the past or sleeping less than eight hours, it’s going to be hard to cram much more than three days into one twenty-four-hour slot. And that’s doubly true if I’m going to avoid bumping into myself. Since Katherine said that’s a bad idea and Kiernan’s pretty certain it’s a key reason Prudence is now several fries short of a Happy Meal, I’d kind of like to avoid it.”
“So you think it’s a good idea for you and Harry to just stroll into Briar Hill every day? Like nothing has happened?”
“I’m not sure we have a choice, Connor,” Dad says as he pours the last of the eggs into the pan. “As Kate just noted, she can’t wrap all of this up before school starts, even if she repeats the next two days over and over. Prudence might suspect Kate’s working against them, but she’s going to be even more suspicious if Kate disappears. If I had my way, I’d pack her into the car and we’d go back to Iowa—”
“Ick.”
“Or somewhere remote, and hope and pray they don’t find us,” he continues, giving me an annoyed look for the interruption. “But since we can’t pick up the apparatus you have protecting this house and take it on the road, I’d prefer to have Kate, and myself for that matter, sleeping under a stable CHRONOS field until this is over.”
Connor huffs. “Which was kind of my point, Harry. When the two of you are at school, you aren’t under a stable CHRONOS field.”
“Connor,” I say, “we can go round and round about this, but the reality is that we need to stall Prudence for at least a week or so. Dad’s right. She has eyes and ears at Briar Hill. If I’m not in class, she’ll know something is up, and I don’t think anything we have here is going to protect us from a full Cyrist onslaught if Prudence decides the truce is off. She was adamant about two things when we clashed at the Expo: stay out of her way, and stay away from Kiern—”
As I’m finishing the sentence, I realize there was a third thing. Be nice to your mother.
“It wasn’t Katherine,” I say softly.
Connor pauses midbite. “What wasn’t Katherine?”
“Mom’s trip. I thought—”
“Why would you think Katherine was connected to that?” Connor says.
“And,” Dad adds, “if you thought that, why didn’t you say something earlier?”
“Well, Mom wouldn’t have gone if she thought it had anything to do with Katherine, and she was so happy about the grant. And I didn’t have any proof . . .”
“You definitely didn’t,” Connor says, “because Katherine didn’t have anything to do with it. But what made you figure that out now?”
“Something Prudence said at the Expo. I think maybe Prudence arranged the trip to be sure Mom is far away from here.”
Dad looks alarmed. “Then we need to let Deborah know. She could be in danger.”
I shake my head. It’s more of a gut feeling than anything solid, but I don’t believe Prudence would endanger Mom. She might be willing to let us think she would, but . . .
“Prudence won’t hurt her. Whatever she may think about Katherine, or about me for that matter, she doesn’t hold it against Mom. If anything, I think Prudence took Mom out of the picture to keep her safe. I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty okay with that, at least until this is all over.”
Dad still looks skeptical.
“That doesn’t mean I’m not going to call her right now,” I say, “because this kind of creeps me out.”
I put my plate in the sink and grab my tablet. That reminds me why I brought it downstairs in the first place, so I turn back to Connor. “Do we have anything I could use as a disguise? Not just period costumes but something to make me look different. I can’t just go around looking like this on jumps.”
“Like what?” Connor asks.
“Like me. Like Prudence. Obviously, when I’m at school being a good, little sheep, it doesn’t matter. But when I’m doing things that are potentially truce breaking, it’s kind of dumb not to use a little subterfuge. Hair color? Floppy hat? Fake glasses?”
They both nod, but I don’t think they get the full picture. Of course, they didn’t see the look the woman at the barbecue gave me when I bumped her plate. It was almost like I’d honored her by knocking fruit onto her shoe.