Dissonance: An Echo Trilogy Novella (Echo Trilogy, #2.5) (5 page)

6

Ah… & Awe

“Hello? Lex?”

I exhaled heavily upon hearing Dr. Ramirez’s deep, familiar voice.
“Hey, Dr. Ramirez!” I took a deep breath to calm my frazzled nerves. “Sorry to
keep calling you, but texts haven’t been getting through on my phone lately,” I
lied. “And,
well .
 . . it’s a long story.”

“It’s alright, Lex.” I thought I could hear a smile in his voice.
“I’m on a conference call right now,
so .
 . .”
Such a simple explanation as to why he hadn’t answered the first time.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry! I’ll make it quick, then.” I relayed my
request for the change in meeting locale and let him know that I had a bit of
an entourage with me, and when Dr. Ramirez agreed to the new plans, we said our
goodbyes so he could return to his call.

Practically giddy with relief, I turned around to grin at my
companions. “So
that’s
good news.” I looked from Nik to Dominic and
back, knowing they’d heard everything Dr. Ramirez had said on the phone.
“Right?”

They might not have been overly enthusiastic about it, but they
did both nod. Eventually.

“Okay,
so .
 . . we’re good,
right? We can head down to the library and get settled in for the meeting?” My
stomach grumbled. “And eat.”

Again, Nik and Dominic gave their reluctant nods. They moved so
similarly it almost appeared rehearsed.

“Good,” I said with a heavy exhale. After tucking my phone back
into my bag, I linked my arm with Kat’s and started toward the sidewalk that
led to the stairway down to Red Square and across the expansive brick plaza, to
Suzzallo
Library. My spirits were the highest they’d
been all day, and I didn’t want to waste a minute more of
our
oh-so-rare free day now that we’d banished
most
of the dark clouds.

“So where we’re going now is one of my very favorite places on
campus,” I told Kat, squeezing her arm to hug her a little closer as we wound
around a roundabout and headed toward the school’s main flagpole. “It’s just
so .
 . . I don’t know.” I tossed her a sideways
glance, meeting her bemused eyes. “I remember the first time I came here—it was
for a middle school field trip, and my mom was my group’s chaperone.”

As we reached the broad cement stairs leading down to Red Square,
I leaned in closer, like I was going to share a secret. “She was a Husky, too,”
I said, then straightened. “So she had all kinds of stories that made this
place seem magical. It was like getting a chance to glimpse into her past.” I
snorted. “Ironically
enough .
 . .” I
shook my head. “But anyway,
Suzzallo
was the place
she was most excited to show me, because she knew how much I’d love it because
it basically looks like an old castle.”

We reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped onto red bricks
whose color had been dulled by the span of dry heat we’d been having. Passing
between aluminum bike racks and a row of alternating purple and gold flags
boasting the benefits of attending the U to new and prospective students, we
made our way into Red Square. A few moments later, I pointed ahead to where
part of the grand old library was coming into view behind Kane Hall, made only
more majestic in comparison to Kane’s blocky cement colonnade and overall
general hideousness.

“And there it is,” I said quietly, “dear old
Suzzallo
.”

“You know,” Kat said, “I
have
been here before. Like every
year we’d take a field trip here and learn about all the history and stuff.”

I looked at her, shaken out of my nostalgic reverie, and grinned.
“Of course you have, but you’ve never been here
with me
, and that’s an
entirely different thing.”

She looked at me, a single eyebrow raised. Lucky girl to get that
gene when it had passed me by without a second glance. “
Why’s
that?”

“Because I’m not going to tell you the history.” A little bounce entered
my step as we drew nearer to the library’s arched doorways, the central figures
in
Suzzallo’s
elaborate Gothic fa
ç
ade. “I’m going to help you
feel
the history of this place.
And it’s so much more than that—it’s the beauty of knowing how much knowledge
has passed through its doors, transported in the minds of students and
researchers, the appreciation and awe that comes with understanding just how
purposeful each and every piece of architecture and decoration is and how each
element represents not only academia and discovery, but this crazy unique place
we call home.

“I mean—” I stopped in the middle of the nearly empty brick plaza
and gestured to the stairs that led away from Red Square to the south end of
campus. Tree-lined brick buildings bordered a wide walkway leading to a large,
circular fountain surrounded by a sea of rose bushes. Beyond that, the horizon
was decorated with two staples of the Puget Sound area: never-ending evergreen-covered
foothills and majestic Mt. Rainier, grand as ever against a backdrop of clear
blue summer sky. “There’s nowhere else in the world like this.”

There was a reason Marcus had chosen to establish his line’s main
complex in the Puget Sound despite his propensity to grumble about the prominent
damp chill that lasted full-on half of the year—it was so damn beautiful. And I
could see in Kat’s rich brown eyes that she understood, maybe better than
either Marcus or I ever could, because she was from here. This place was in her
bones, in her blood. It was her home.

“Well, come on,” she said, tugging on my arm and dragging me
onward toward the library. “Now that you’ve got me all excited to
feel the
history
, let’s get this show on the road already!”

I laughed and, more than willing, let her tug me toward
Suzzallo
. Glancing over my shoulder, I spotted Nik hanging
back several dozen yards, seeming to watch everything and nothing at the same
time, but I didn’t see Dominic anywhere.

At spotting my quizzical expression, Nik nodded toward the
library, and I understood. The other half of my minimal guard for the day had
gone inside to scope out any potential dangers before I stepped through the
front doors. Duh.

Once we were inside in the foyer, the muffled echo of voices surrounded
us. A buzzing tour group huddled together further in the library where the
1970s addition joined up with the original 1920s structure, and people sitting
in clusters in the cavernous café to the right of the foyer shared hushed
conversation over iced coffees and laptops.

Kat had been in the library before, but never as a
Nejerette
, and I couldn’t help but wonder if that added to
her rapt expression as she took it all in. She was especially intrigued by the shallow
grooves worn into the travertine steps of the split grand staircase from
thousands upon thousands of library-goers ascending and descending the twin
curving, carved stone stairways over the past century, though she also “oohed”
a bit at the elaborate leaded glass windows stretching high overhead in the
walls sheltering the staircases.

“I think I get what you mean about the ‘feel’ of it,” she
whispered. “It’s like I’m at Hogwarts or something,” she added with a giggle,
placing her hand over her mouth when the sound echoed more than she’d expected.

Dominic stood at the top of the stairway, his back to us as he
waited for us to finish our ascent. I touched his arm as I passed him, offering
a quick smile before moving on. He nodded, his deep-set eyes filled with secrets
but his face stony. “Ah, Lex?” he said quietly.

I paused and turned around partially to face him, motioning for
Kat to continue on.

“The Reading Room is safe enough, but please don’t venture into
the stacks at all.” He tilted his head minutely toward the newer portion of the
library, an aisle running between bookcase after bookcase in a seemingly
endless optical illusion. “Too many hiding places for my comfort.” Though his
words had sounded like a polite request, I knew them to be much more. Don’t go
into the stacks. Noted.

“No problem,” I told him, flashing him another smile, tighter this
time. “Thanks.”

I found Kat standing in one of two doorways to the Reading Room,
which was, in my opinion, one of the most beautiful and relaxing places to research
in the entire world. It was one of the few places I’d ever been where the rule
of quiet was obeyed universally, as though even raucous coeds could sense the
volume of knowledge and wisdom that had been absorbed under its vaulted
ceiling.

I stopped beside Kat in the doorway and leaned my shoulder against
the wooden doorframe. “So what do you think?” I asked her in the barest
whisper. “Worthy of a sketch or two?”

She nodded, eyes wide as she took it all in. “It reminds me of
those cathedrals in Florence,” she whispered, “except warmer, like here they
actually want me to sit down and stay for a while.”

I smiled broadly, having felt exactly the same way about this room
from the moment I first set eyes on it as a young teen. When my phone buzzed, I
fished it out of my bag and glanced at the screen; it was Dr. Ramirez.

Before answering, I pointed to the carved wooden bookshelves
bordering the room and whispered, “Check out the friezes on top of the
bookcases.” At Kat’s confused look, I amended, “The carvings—they’re all of
flora native to this area. It’s pretty cool.” I watched Kat’s face brighten
with understanding as I backed out into the landing and answered my phone.

“Hey, Dr. Ramirez,” I said, still keeping my voice hushed. I
hurried past Dominic and the staircase and into an off-shooting hallway that
led to the restrooms, where I could speak above a whisper without bothering
anyone.

“Ah, Lex, so glad you answered,” he said. “I don’t, by any chance,
suppose you’re already on campus?”

“Actually, I am.”

“Well then, I’m heading to
Suzzallo
right now. Think you’d be able to move our meeting up a half hour?” A muffled
laugh made its way across the line. “This is the last thing on my calendar
today, and with the rest of the day unexpectedly free, I thought I’d take
advantage of the sunshine and head home afterwards to get a full afternoon of
gardening in.”

The mental image of big, burly Dr. Ramirez rolling up his
shirtsleeves and getting dirty in a flowerbed was enough to make me grin.
“Yeah, of course. I’m actually already here. I’ll meet you in the café in a few
minutes.”

I emerged from the hallway to find Kat and Dominic waiting for me
at the top of the nearest staircase. And for some strange reason, that eerie
sense of waiting had a resurgence. Or maybe it had been there all along, but
wanting to enjoy at least part of the day, I’d been too stubborn to acknowledge
it.
It’s just the weirdness in the
At
,
I told myself. And the dream and my hormones and, as
much as I hated to admit it, being away from Marcus. It was a perfect recipe
for a crappy day.

I took a deep breath, then forced a smile. “Who’s hungry?”

7

Tick & Boom

“Egypt certainly seems to have agreed with you,” Dr. Ramirez said
after releasing me from a body-engulfing grandfatherly hug. His soft brown eyes
scanned my face. “You look absolutely radiant.”

“Oh,
well .
 . .” I glanced
down at the floor and felt my face heat. Gracefully accepting compliments had
never been my strong suit, a facet of my personality that appeared to intrigue
Marcus.

“That’s because she’s
pr
—” Kat slapped
her hands over her mouth. When I glanced down at her with what could only be
called “a look,” I found laughter and apologies dancing in her eyes.

“Dr. Ramirez,” I said through a slightly forced smile. I placed my
hand on Kat’s shoulder—she was seated with Dominic at the good-sized square
table we’d claimed a couple minutes earlier, my chair beside hers and the extra
for Dr. Ramirez opposite her currently empty. “This is my youngest sister,
Kat.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Kat,” Dr. Ramirez said, offering her his
hand. She looked a little stumped, but just for a moment, before reaching out
to shake hands. “For whatever reason,” he said when they’d finished, “I was
under the impression that you only had the one sister.” He frowned
thoughtfully. “
Hmm .
 . . Jenny, if I’m
correct?”

“I did only have the one sister,” I said, motioning to his free
chair before pulling out my own to sit. “Or, at least, I thought I did.” I
glanced at Kat, meeting her eyes and smiling fondly. “Kat’s my half-sister, and
we just found out about each other a few months back.” I let out a breathy
laugh. “It’s a long story,” I said, shaking my head. And complicated. And
absolutely, completely unbelievable.

“It would seem that you’re full of long stories today.” Before he
sat, Dr. Ramirez pulled a slender, polished wooden box out of his leather
briefcase and set it on the table.

The feeling of waiting—what I was now starting to recognize as a
strange mixture of dread and expectation—quadrupled with that single action. It
was like a timer was ticking, counting down to something, only I didn’t know
how long it would tick for or what would happen when it stopped. It just kept
on ticking and ticking and ticking, silent and unsettling.

Dr. Ramirez rested his bag on the floor and eased himself down
into his chair. My eyes were glued to the slim wooden box, but he didn’t
notice, as he was too focused on something else. I forced my gaze to break away
from the box to see what had captured his attention.

It was Nik. Of course.

Walking around with Nik was the opposite of camouflage, but in
some ways, that was better than trying to hide. He was one of those people who
was always gawked at, but those same gawkers usually went out of their way to
ignore him. The same thing that made him stand out often rendered him all but
invisible. He was the guy with the piercings and tattoos. That was all most
people saw. It was all most people
wanted
to see. A sad notion, but
sadder still was my suspicion that it was all Nik wanted people to see when
they looked at him. His appearance was a barrier between himself and the world—by
choice. I didn’t get it, and unlike most of the Nejerets who weren’t too afraid
of him to talk about him, I didn’t pretend to.

At the moment, my confounding friend was returning from the coffee
bar with a monstrous energy drink, a plastic-wrapped sandwich, and a couple of
large cookies, everyone around him either watching him or trying to appear
disinterested. He sat two tables away, seeming to ignore us completely as he
kept an eye on everyone else in the room.

I met Dr. Ramirez’s speculative eyes and shrugged. He smiled
faintly and shook his head, his eyebrows quirked together as if to say, “Kids
these
days .
 . .”

“Trust me,” I told him, “I don’t get it either.” As I spoke, my
stomach rumbled quietly—apparently triggered by the sight of Nik’s food—and
almost instantly, Dominic pushed his chair back and stood.

“What can I get everyone to eat?” he asked, his accent elevating
his polite demeanor to the next level.

Remembering my rusty manners, I cleared my throat. “Dr. Ramirez,
you remember Dominic
l’Aragne
from the
Djeser-Djeseru
excavation crew, don’t you? I’m sure your
paths must’ve crossed at some point while we were holed up in
Denny .
 . .”

“Why yes, yes, I do remember seeing you around.” Dr. Ramirez stood
and shook the younger-appearing man’s hand. “I knew you looked familiar, but I
couldn’t place you. It’s great to see you again.”

“And you as well, professor.” A smile softened his severe
features, and he bowed his head minutely. “Now what can I get you for lunch?”

Dr. Ramirez paused halfway in the act of sitting back down. “Oh,
no, you don’t need to do—”

“Please,” I said, placing my fingertips on his forearm. “It’s our
treat .
 . . for everything you’ve done for me over
the past few years.”

He met my smile with an awkward one of his own and lowered himself
down the rest of the way into his chair. “Well, alright, but only this once.”
He gave Dominic his order, which I followed up with “the usual”—a turkey
sandwich, a scone, and large decaf vanilla latte—and Kat requested, “PB & J—anything
red—and a chocolate chip cookie. And some hot Cheetos. And a Coke—a Cherry
Coke.”

While Dominic was fetching lunch, Dr. Ramirez and I did the
catching-up dance—how have you been and what’s new and the like—but finally I
had to interrupt our conversation to look at Kat, who was literally bouncing in
her seat. “What is up with you?”

“How have you not told him yet?” she all but exploded.

My eyes opened wide. “Told him
what
?” I asked, astonished.
She couldn’t possibly have expected me to divulge the past eight months’
happenings—Nejeret matters, time travel, and all—to my former, very human
graduate advisor.

“About”—she glanced down at my middle
—“
you
know . . .”

“Oh! Right,” I said, smacking my forehead at my denseness. “I’m
pregnant.” The words came out blasé, but the moment they were free, I blushed.
Because to get pregnant, as everyone knows, you had to have sex. Which meant
I’d basically just told Dr. Ramirez that I’d had sex. Which was just awkward.

“Well, uh,
congratulations .
 . .”
He looked from me to Kat and back, clearly uncomfortable. Apparently he found
it awkward, too. “I’m assuming?”

“Oh, yeah,” Kat said. “It’s not one of those
whoopsie
things. I mean, it kind
of is, but they’re stoked about it, anyway.”

Dr. Ramirez’s responding grin was full and warm. “Congratulations.
You two make a handsome couple,” he said, glancing to the line at the coffee
bar, where Dominic was standing with a food-filled wire basket in his arms,
next to pay.

“Dom?” I said, surprised, and Kat snorted unabashedly. “Oh, no,
we’re not—he’s not—he’s just my—” Half-brother I didn’t know about last year?
Best friend? Bodyguard? Platonic soul mate? “Friend,” I said lamely, because he
was so much more.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Dr. Ramirez said. “I just
assumed .
 . .”
He shifted in his seat, shaking his head. “This is a bit embarrassing.”

“It’s fine,” I told him. “Dom and I are really close friends, but
I’m actually engaged to Marcus
Bahur .
 . . the
Djeser-Djeseru
excavation director.” I chuckled to
myself. “So, uh, thanks for recommending me for the position on the
excavation .
 . .”

Dr. Ramirez laughed out loud and, much to my amusement, actually
slapped his knee. “Well, how about that! Never knew I had a future in
matchmaking.” His smile was broad, warm, and catching. Kat and I were grinning
along with him almost immediately.

But as my eyes were once again drawn to the small wooden box, my
smile wilted.

Tick .
 . .
tick .
 . .
tick .
 . .

“Ah, yes!” Dr. Ramirez pushed the box across the corner of the
table to me. “This. I forgot about it in the excitement of everything.”

I made small, interested noises, once again forcing myself to look
away from the box despite my desire to do nothing but stare at it, especially
now that it was close enough to me that I could almost make out a shadow of my
reflection on its surface. Part of me expected it to open a yawning mouth and
lunge at me in an attempt to bite my face off. Another part of me wanted to
open it more than I’d ever wanted to open anything, because I was fairly
certain opening the damn box would be the only way to make the sense of waiting—the
silent ticking—finally stop.

“So what’s in it, anyway?” Kat asked. Her words seemed to jog me
out of a trance.

I placed my fingertips on the edge of the box and slid it closer
to me. “And what’s the story behind it?” I looked at Dr. Ramirez. “All you said
in your email was that you had an artifact for me, something with me ‘written
all over it.’”

Dr. Ramirez nodded slowly. “Right,
well .
 . .”
He reached out and tapped the polished lid. “This little gem here actually came
to me with a note inside, just two words written on it.”

Both Kat and I leaned forward, waiting.

Tick .
 . .
tick .
 . .
tick .
 . .

Dr. Ramirez’s warm brown eyes met mine, his eyebrows raised.
“Alexandra Larson.”

Slowly, my stare dropped to the box, and I fought the urge to
shiver. The expectant sensation was nearly overwhelming now, the silent ticking
almost deafening.

“
Ohmigod
, open it, Lex,” Kat said,
squirming in her seat. She was gripping the edge of the table, her fingertips
pressing against the surface so hard they were bleaching of color. “All this
mystery .
 . . I seriously can’t handle it!”

Neither could I.

Tick .
 . .
tick .
 . .
tick .
 . .

The lid creaked faintly as I opened it. The sense of waiting, of
expectation, turned to full-on dread and, as I rested the lid on the tabletop,
to near-outright revulsion. It was a struggle to keep my expression curious,
interested, to fight the urge to slam the lid closed and throw the repulsive
thing across the room while brushing off the sudden tidal wave of heebie-jeebies
like so much raw sewage.

Because I had absolutely no reason to feel that way about what was
in the box. I would have no way to explain my totally bizarre reaction to
it
.

And, possibly most disturbing of all, the ticking in my head
hadn’t stopped when I’d opened the box. It had only grown louder, become truly
audible.

“What is it?” Kat asked, her voice filled with nothing but
curiosity and maybe a hint of disappointment. “A compass?”

I shook my head, leaning in to get a closer look despite my urge
to fling the box away. “It’s a
watch .
 . . a
pocket watch.” Couldn’t she hear it ticking? It sounded so loud to me,
overwhelming all the other sounds in the room as I stared at the device nestled
snugly in a padded gray velvet depression.

The watch was made of some dark metal that had been treated in a
way that caused it to appear nearly black. I squinted, my mouth quirked to the
side. Not nearly black—the thing was pitch-black, its dull metal surface not
reflecting light but seeming to consume it. The sense of revulsion it instilled
within me wasn’t based on how it looked—rather, the watch was a breathtakingly
beautiful creation, its black filigree design undeniably delicate and feminine—but
from something deeper. It was instinctive, a gut feeling.

This pocket watch was wrong, or
off
. Its very existence
clashed with my internal sense of balance.
Of ma’at
,
I realized, pressing my palm against my abdomen as though I could
somehow draw strength of will and clarity of mind from the two souls within,
the living embodiment of universal balance.

“What’s it
look
like on the inside?” Kat
asked, reaching out to touch the watch’s black filigree cover.

Breath catching, I snapped the lid of the box shut and raised my
head, meeting her eyes. I didn’t know what would’ve happened if she’d touched
the watch, but I had the visceral sense that touching it would be a very, very
bad thing.

“Lex?” Her brows drew together, her eyes filled with worry. “Are
you okay? You’re so
pale .
 . .”

“I—” I cleared my throat and licked my lips. “I’m feeling a little
light-headed,” I said truthfully. “I think I just need to eat something.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Dr. Ramirez said gruffly. “Let’s let the
mother-to-be eat before we get too sidetracked by our mysterious artifact
here.”

I looked at my old advisor, giving him a weak, grateful smile. His
expression was wrought with concern, but his eyes weren’t troubled like Kat’s.
I glanced two tables over.