Time's Edge

Co

I drop into an office chair, roll toward him so that we can both see the screen, and point to the little link under the words Cyrist International. It reads “Redirected from Koreshan Unity.”

Co

“But Katherine said, just a few minutes ago, that they weren’t co

“Because Wikipedia is infallible?” he laughs, setting the iPad down on the desk.

“No. But why did Katherine tell me they aren’t co

He leans back in his chair. His elbows are on the armrests, and he rubs his temples, his mouth forming a grim line. It’s probably just that I’ve seen Kiernan do the temple-rubbing gesture several times, but this is the first time Co

“What?” I ask.

Co

I definitely remember. I was in my room, going through some diary entries last Monday. When I glanced up at the clock, I realized it was nearly four thirty, which meant I’d completely missed my three o’clock karate lesson with Sensei Barbie. Katherine was downstairs when she rang the bell and turned Barbie away at the door. She canceled the lesson, saying there’d been a change of plans. The only reason I found out is that Barbie called my cell and left a message, noting that Katherine not only didn’t pay her but didn’t even apologize for making her drive all the way over. I called back to apologize and promised she’d be reimbursed for her trouble but only got her answering service. I’m guessing Katherine was incredibly rude, because Barbie still hasn’t called back. Katherine’s response? She decided I was too busy with research to take time off for a lesson. I told her not to cancel my plans without asking and chalked it up to the fact that she’d been lukewarm about lessons all along. Now I wonder whether it was another of these mood shifts.

“So you think she’s getting worse?” I ask.

“She’s terminal, Kate. That means she will only get worse. Based on what the doctor said the last time, I think she still has several months left, but there are no guarantees, especially when she isn’t resting like she should. I mean, the whole drama over the diary when you got back from Dallas . . .”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t blame you, but it wouldn’t have mattered. She can barely use the equipment at all now. I don’t know if it’s the tumor or the medications, but I saw her hurl one of the diaries across the room the other day, because she couldn’t get it to scroll.” He leans forward and says in a lower tone, “If you mention this to Katherine, I will totally deny I said it. I’ll flat out lie, because she needs to feel someone is in her corner right now. But I don’t think we can count on her to make decisions at this point.”

I cross my arms and look down at the floor. “Okay. Understood. I’ll just get back to—”

“Kate, wait a minute, okay? I saw you this morning in the kitchen, and I was here when Harry talked to Katherine today. I get it. I do. This is just a god-awful situation for everyone and—”

“And I’m the only one who can do anything about it.”

He nods. “It sucks, but yeah. That pretty much sums it up. No pressure, right?”

I give him a halfhearted smile. “So, since Katherine isn’t a reliable resource right now, what can you tell me about these Koreshan guys? Do you know why the dates are different?”

“Well, Saul isn’t Koresh, and he isn’t the half dozen or so other cult leaders whose followers he, um . . . appropriated? But we do know he sank a lot of resources into those groups to lure them into the fold. The dates are probably just different because they had more followers and more money at that point. But I’ll do some research.”

“Thanks. I’m going to be at Mom’s for the next few days—we don’t have long until she leaves, and I need to spend some time with her. But I’ll put together a tentative list of the order in which I think we need to tackle these jumps while I’m there and talk it over with you, Dad, and Katherine when I get back. Does that work for you?”

“It does, but I’m wondering why you’re leaving out of the equation the one person who actually has the ability to help you.”

I don’t follow him at first, and then I realize he means Kiernan. He’s right. Kiernan’s abilities with the key may be somewhat limited, but he’s the only other person who can use it—at least, the only one who’s on our side. And he knows more about what we’ve tried in the past than anyone else, except for Other-Kate, who isn’t exactly available for a question-and-answer session.

I pause a little too long, I guess, because Co

“No. Absolutely not.” I think back to Kiernan’s expression at the cabin on the Wooded Island, after he saved me from the hotel, when I asked if he was still in this fight. “He hates them as much as anyone. It’s just—it’s hard for him to jump very far out of his timeline. He said it drains him and . . .”

“Hard, but not impossible for a short time.” Co

I sigh and pull my knees into the chair. “Kiernan wants to help. But . . . it feels like I’m rubbing salt in a wound. I don’t want to make it worse or to . . . encourage him, I guess? He’s been hurt enough. When he looks at me—”

“He’s an adult, Kate. If he hates Saul and the Cyrists as much as you say, shouldn’t you let him make that decision?”

“I don’t want to hurt him. I already feel like I owe him so much, and I have nothing to give back. I’m just a reminder of what he’s lost.”

Co

“It’s not a question of trust, Co

Unless, says this teeny-tiny voice in the back of my head, you don’t entirely trust yourself?

∞6∞

BOSTON

July 25, 1905, 11:35 a.m.

Kiernan sleeps with his head on one arm, his body curled around a pillow. I watch him for a moment, and then a shiver runs through me as I imagine how I’d feel if I discovered someone was, without my knowledge, watching me while I slept. But why is he still asleep at ten in the morning? I thought people were all early to bed, early to rise in 1905. Apparently not Kiernan.

It also occurs to me that I have no clue what he sleeps in. Or doesn’t sleep in. And he could throw those covers off at any second. So I jump ahead to noon, only to discover an empty room. I work my way backward in five-minute increments and finally hit the jackpot at 11:35. He’s awake and sitting on the bed, in black pants and a long-sleeved white shirt, buttoned up to the neck. A thin black strip of cloth—a tie of some sort, maybe?—hangs down around his collar on both sides.