Time's Edge

Prudence is a different matter. She’s Katherine’s daughter, Mom’s sister, my aunt. I don’t even like to think about the possibility that the only way to end all of this is to end her, and I suspect Kiernan has similar views.

And that’s only stating the three most obvious people who might have to be killed in order to stop the Cyrists. How many others might we have to go through to get to them if or, more likely, when our cover is blown? From what Kiernan showed me at Estero, we could face quite a few who are willing to risk their lives for their beliefs. I take a deep breath, trying to forestall an anxiety spiral.

Katherine is at the opposite side of the table, her mouth pressed in a tight line. “As you said, we can cross that particular bridge when we come to it. Saul, Simon, and Prudence will be the final keys.”

Kiernan’s hand is beneath the table, and he gives my knee a brief squeeze before he speaks. “And when we do reach that bridge, you will not be on your own.” He looks over at Katherine. “I don’t know how much Kate’s told you about my relationship with your daughter. All I can say is Prudence was a very troubled young girl when I knew her, and that’s only gotten worse now that she’s older. Despite the role she played in all of this, it’s hard for me to wish her ill. She’s battling her own set of demons. Some of her own making, and others Saul created for her. But Kate knows—and I want to be certain all of you know—where my loyalties lie. Leaving aside everything they’ve taken from me, I don’t want the future they’re pla

Katherine nods and then says, “It’s good to know we now have two people who can use the keys on our side. Even as historians, when we were simply out there to observe, CHRONOS generally advised us to travel in pairs for the first few years. I’ve never liked the idea of Kate traveling without backup, no matter how capable she claims to be.”

I’m not sure if there was a subtle emphasis on the word claims or if I just imagined it. I flash Katherine a tight smile and look back down at the list. “So that leaves seven keys we need to find first.”

“Six,” Katherine says. “Marcus—the one who was studying the Nazis? He destroyed his key.”

“And you’re sure that he actually destroyed it?” Dad asks. “For that matter, how do you destroy the things? What are they even made of?”

“They’re made of something called trinium,” Co

Dad raises an eyebrow. “Did you say trinium? Why does that ring a bell?”

Co

“Okay,” I say. “Let’s pretend that makes sense so that we can get back to Dad’s first two questions—do we know for certain this Marcus guy destroyed his key? And second, how do we destroy them?”

“I’ll add a third,” Kiernan says. “Shouldn’t you go ahead and destroy most of the ones you already have? Keeping them around seems like it’s asking for trouble.”

Co

“Waterproof?” Kiernan says to me out of the side of his mouth. “Knowing that would have made showering a lot easier.”

I smile, and then I feel a blush rising to my cheeks. Because now I’m visualizing Kiernan in the shower. And it’s clear from the smirk on his face that he’s guessed what I’m thinking, which, of course, makes me blush harder.

Katherine’s voice yanks me back to the here and now. “So it would actually be more correct to say that we have thirteen working keys and one useless trinket. And that is exactly what Marcus showed me when I caught up with him in Vie

“But”—Co

There’s a moment of silence, and then Dad says, “Figure out when you deactivated them and storm the house just before.”

Kiernan shakes his head. “With all due respect, I disagree. Destroy them. Why make it easy? Yeah, they’ll backtrack if they don’t find them, but that may buy us a day or an hour. And we may need that day or hour. Maybe they’re waiting for us to collect them all, so they can come steal our stash.”

“Hmm . . . Grandpa has a point,” Co

I grab a pen from the counter behind us. “So we mark the Nazi historian off the list, and we’re down to six. We have five that we can pin down with some degree of certainty—one in Russia in 1957, one in Port Darwin in 1942, and three in Athens, Georgia, in 1938. That leaves one.”

“Or maybe two. Saul might have traveled with two keys,” Katherine says. “I think Shaila’s was destroyed along with the others at CHRONOS headquarters, but I can’t be sure. Saul might have grabbed it.”

“Okay,” I say. “Leaving Shaila’s aside, you’re certain that other key is in the past and not ahead of our time?”

“Yes. The three cohorts were roughly divided by era, so that we had our research days to prepare for the various trips at the same time. That way, we could share expertise with others looking at the same general historical period. As I noted before, only two cohorts were in the field at a time, so that meant that the modern history group wasn’t on the jump schedule. Shaila’s was the most recent—sometime around 2020.”

“It was 2024,” Kiernan says. “That’s when Saul landed.”

“Nice to be able to pinpoint that after five decades of wondering,” Katherine says as she jots it down on the sheet in front of her. “As for that remaining key, I have nothing beyond what I put in the document I gave Kate. Esther was studying a matrilineal society in Africa sometime between 1100 and 1300. I’m pretty sure it was the Akan, which would put her location at the one and only jump site in Ghana at that time. But, that was seven hundred to nine hundred years ago. I suspect that one is buried somewhere, most likely with Esther, and will never be found. Think how long it took you to observe the various sites in Dallas, Kate. Can you imagine trying to do that over a two-hundred-year span?”

I shake my head. “I’ve had no luck with finding the guy in Moscow during a two-day window. Two centuries would be impossible. I guess we’ll simply have to assume that key can’t be found.”

“Well, maybe not,” Kiernan says. “I don’t know if Kate mentioned it in her diary, but I’m still working on something that we started together before she . . . before she disappeared. We’re pretty sure we’ve located a key in 1905.”