Time's Edge

It’s pretty much the same advice that Sister Elba gave as I was leaving the chapel. And it’s good advice, I know it is, but . . .

“The big problem here is that there’s an if in there. If we stop Saul. And I don’t know for certain that we can do that. Isn’t the last part of that serenity prayer about having the wisdom to tell what you can’t change from what you can? It’s not so simple when everything is all mixed up like this, and there are things that I could, in theory, change, except that it will screw up who knows what else. Including my own existence. Is there a serenity prayer for that?”

After Trey leaves, I consider going upstairs to sleep. But I’m too wound up from talking about it, and I keep ru

They’re both on the couch in the living room when I get downstairs. Katherine’s showered and changed out of her nightclothes since I spoke with her in the kitchen earlier. I’m hoping that’s a positive sign.

“Okay,” I say, sitting in the chair opposite them. “The good news is that 1938 went pretty well. I spent a little over five hours hanging around Athens, near the campus and over by the Morton Building, where Delia, Abel, and Grant were working today. I got some awkward looks when I walked into a café on that side of town, because it didn’t occur to me that segregation sort of works both ways. I mean, I’m sure they would have let me buy a cup of coffee, but the guy behind the counter looked really nervous when I walked in, probably because I was by myself. I just acted like I was lost and asked for directions to campus. And I saw all three of them—they left the Morton Building together. I walked behind them for a few blocks before they split up over near Broad Street.”

Katherine nods and says, “Grant. What did he look like?”

“Average height, muscular build, sandy hair. Young, seemed nervous. Delia was jumping his case about something.”

“Grant must have been a first-year. If this was one of his first trips, then he’d have been your age or a year older, at most. Delia was nice enough, but she had a reputation as a tough instructor. She’s a bit of a stickler when it comes to rules.”

Katherine kind of wrinkles her nose as she says this, and I bite back a chuckle. It’s way past ironic to hear her sniping at someone else for enforcing rules. I sneak a glance at Co

“What?” Katherine rolls her eyes when she gets it, and she ends up laughing, too. It’s been a while since I heard her laugh. I wish I could just stop the discussion here, on a cheerful note. But they’re both looking at me, waiting for me to go on.

Katherine says, “I’m guessing that’s not all you wanted to discuss, is it?”

Her arms are pulled into her sides, and she’s hunched over slightly, and I wonder for a moment if she’s cold. There’s something familiar about the position, however. I glance down and realize that I’m sitting the same way, like I’m bracing for a blow.

“Do you remember Saul mentioning a place called Six Bridges? In Georgia?” I ask.

“No. Is it near Athens?”

“About thirty miles away, over toward Greensboro. He might have also referred to it as God’s Hollow.”

“It’s not ringing any bells. Why?”

“Everyone who lived there was killed in September of 1911, about fifty people total. They were found all together, in their church. Kiernan says the bodies look a lot like those he saw after some war in the 2070s, something Simon showed him. Simon also mentioned Six Bridges to Kiernan one night when he was drunk. Apparently it was something Saul told Simon about a mistake he’d made long ago.”

Katherine raises an eyebrow. “Saul admitted to a mistake? Doesn’t sound like him.”

“I don’t know, Katherine. I’m just reporting back what Kiernan told me. Anyway, we took a trip over to—” I stop and hold up a hand, because she’s clearly about to interrupt. “We drove over a few weeks before the deaths happened and set up some stable points so that we could observe the village. The authorities think whatever killed them was in the well, so I have a few points set there and several in the church. Kiernan’s going to watch those locations. I’ll check back with him shortly. Hopefully we’ll be able to find out what happened.”

“And what do you plan to do if you discover something? You can’t stop it—”

“Yes, I know,” I snap, then remind myself to breathe deeply and get a grip before I go on. “I know that, Katherine. I’ve been reminding myself of that fact for the past few hours. If the well was tampered with by Saul, or anyone else with a CHRONOS key, we’ll go in afterward and get a sample. Co

It’s obvious from both of their faces that they don’t disagree with that point, but then Katherine starts in about how it’s too dangerous for me to go back to God’s Hollow, and Co

Finally, Co

“What did you say?”

“We need someone with the technical skills—”

I sit back up and stare at him. “No. Before that. About Copenhagen. And Kiernan.”

“Just that you’d probably get him to handle this one, too,” he says and then looks down, shaking his head. “On a personal level, I’d prefer that my ancestor didn’t have to take that degree of risk, but I know that there’s a lot more at stake here than getting my family back. And at least you took precautions. If he hadn’t been wearing body armor, one of those bullets might have done permanent damage—”

He stops suddenly, my facial expression finally registering. “Oh. You didn’t know.”

“I most certainly did not.” I yank my CHRONOS key out of the leather pouch and pull up the coordinates Kiernan and I agreed upon before I left his cabin. I’d pla

Katherine reaches over and grabs my wrist, causing the display to waver. “Katherine,” I say, “please let go. Kiernan and I need to have a little chat.”

She releases her grip, but as I’m pulling up the stable point again, she says. “I was just going to note that Kiernan made the decision we would have made as a group, Kate. Having him retrieve Moehler’s key in Copenhagen was the logical decision.”

“Yeah, well maybe that’s your view, and Co