Timepiece (Hourglass #2)

Timepiece (Hourglass #2) Page 31

“Wait. Dr. Turner was there, too?” Michael looked from me to Lily and back again. “Maybe you should start from the beginning.”

We explained everything, including the crowd of freaky rips.

“So now we have a device that we don’t know what to do with, and we still don’t have any leads on how to find Jack,” I said.

“Obviously, we have to go back to talk to Dr. Turner.” Em felt the edges of the Skroll, looking for a way to open it. “We’re taking this with us. First thing in the morning. And we aren’t leaving until we get answers.”

Chapter 26

Early the next morning, Em and I hurried across Bennett’s campus toward the science department.

“Are you just going to plop it down on his desk and say, ‘Hey, my best friend stole this from the same office where you were seen with the head of Chronos. What’s that all about? And also, do you know how to open it?’”

Em had the silver case in her bag. “No. Maybe. I don’t know right now. But when I see him, I’m sure I will.”

We didn’t even have to go all the way to Dr. Turner’s office.

He was in front of the science building, holding his briefcase. A pink carnation was in the buttonhole of his vest.

“Dr. Turner,” Emerson called out.

When he heard his name, he turned to face us and smiled politely. “Good morning. How can I help you?”

He seemed a little formal after our encounter yesterday. I stepped close to him, hoping no one around would hear us. It was around nine, and people were rushing to classes all around us. “I took your advice and checked out the sights. The Pyramid? I saw some things I wanted to talk to you about.”

I expected shock, at the very least, surprise. But not confusion.

“I’m sorry, did I give you advice?” Dr. Turner pulled at the edge of his bow tie.

“Yes,” I answered, “in your office, yesterday …”

He had no idea what I was talking about.

“Dr. Turner, it’s me. Emerson.” She smiled and nodded, encouraging him to remember. “We were here yesterday morning.”

He leaned over to get a better look at her face. “Yesterday morning?”

“During your office hours.” She looked around before saying in a low voice, “We talked to you about Chronos.”

Distress coated his words. “I don’t … I wouldn’t … oh, hold on, my phone …” He fumbled around, touching each of his pockets before finally finding his cell. “Hello?”

He glanced at Em and me as he listened to the caller on the other end, his fear more pronounced by the second.

Em’s anxiety crashed into mine. “I don’t feel good about this.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Could he be senile, have Alzheimer’s or something? Or does this mean what I think it does?”

“His memory is gone.” I nodded. “It has to be Jack.”

“But he disappeared off the map.” She fought her fear, denying the obvious truth. “Lily’s been checking every hour.”

“More like every half hour.”

“Then how could Jack have gotten here?”

“He could be hiding in veils. If he stays inside them, it could block Lily from being able to track the pocket watch. He would exist outside space and time.”

“Or he could be stuck. That could explain why the rips just keep getting worse. More screwing around with the continuum equals more consequences.” Em made a sound of frustration. “As if things weren’t bad enough already.”

“Actually, I don’t think Jack’s stuck. He paid the professor a visit, which would be impossible if he were stuck.”

“Why would he take Dr. Turner’s memory?” Em asked. “Specifically his memory of us?”

“I don’t know.” I just knew we were surrounded by enemies and uncertainties, and everything in me wanted to get the hell out of this town and back to Ivy Springs. “Maybe because Dr. Turner told us too much about Chronos.”

“He barely told us anything.”

I looked at Dr. Turner, paid attention to his appearance, and panic settled in my chest. “We have to go, Em.”

“We need to call someone. We can’t leave him like this.” She didn’t move. “Who knows how much of his memory Jack took?”

“Em, don’t.” I needed to get her back to the hotel. “There’s nothing we can do.”

Dr. Turner had hung up his phone, and he stood staring at the Gothic arches in front of the science building, frowning at them.

“Please, we have to at least take him to his office. He has grandkids, a family.” She pushed away from me. “We want to take you to your office, okay, Dr. Turner? We’ll explain once we get up there.”

“I’m afraid you can’t. I have to get to a meeting shortly.” He tucked his phone into the pocket beside the buttonhole that held the carnation. The bright pink, perfectly fresh carnation.

“Don’t worry,” Emerson said. “We’ll be speedy. Just come with us.”

She reached out to take his hand.

He dissolved.

Denial came first. A white-hot burst of adrenaline in our chests that flooded out to our arms and legs, making us weak and dizzy.

Reality kicked in, the image outside reconciling with our brain. Panic sped up our breathing, broke us out in a sweat, made us shake.

I’d never felt another person’s emotion so strongly in my life.

“Dr. Turner?” Em turned to me. “Kaleb? Was he …”

“No,” I said, reaching out for her before she turned around. I knew where she was going.

“Rip.” Her breath heaved in her chest. “Dr. Turner was a rip. He was a rip, and he didn’t recognize us.”

“It could have been a future rip,” I said, trying to stall her, calm her down. Work out a way to stop what I knew was about to happen.

She shook her head in protest. “No. Michael and your dad said they haven’t seen any future rips since all this started.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“Kaleb, he was wearing the exact same thing he had on yesterday. He had the pink carnation in his buttonhole. It was fresh. He should have recognized us. Oh no.”

“Emerson, don’t.”

“Oh please, God, no.”

She didn’t wait for me, just took off running at top speed. My legs were longer, but she ran distance and had fear as a chaser. “Stop! You don’t know what happened up there—stop—Em!” She skidded through the entrance to the science building. I was two seconds behind because of the time it took to open the door she let slam behind her.

Her footsteps echoed up the stairwell. I heard her wrench open the door to the second floor. I caught it right before it closed.

The receptionist from yesterday sat at her desk, her mouth opening to ask us where we were going. We were too fast for her.

Em opened the door to Dr. Turner’s office and stood, frozen, just outside. I stopped in time to keep from running into her.

The fedora he’d worn to meet Teague was on the floor.

The pink carnation was wilted in the pencil holder.

The pipe was cold.