“You know Poe?” The admission made me dizzy. “What kind of ultimatum?”
“She wanted us to find someone.” His frown told me there was more to the story and that he was weighing whether or not to tell it. “She turned Poe into her sock puppet to get it done, and she claimed it was all for Chronos. She used him.”
Not surprising. My mother consistently proved she felt she was entitled to say or do whatever she wanted to get her way. “Who did she want you to find?”
“A man named Jack Landers. She stole a digital storage device called a Skroll, and she needed him to open it.”
“What was on it?”
“Information about the Infinityglass,” he said. “But the Hourglass stole it from her, and I broke the encryption and downloaded the information on it. When we turned Landers over to your mom, she took the Skroll, but it’s missing some info.”
I tapped the hard drive that sat on my vanity beside Dune’s laptop. “It’s all here?”
“That and more. Everything I’ve gathered over the years, and even some things my dad found before he died.”
“My whole life encapsulated in one external drive.”
“Not your whole life. Nothing could contain you.” The fierceness in his voice surprised both of us.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said cautiously. “If I want to know what’s on that drive, I guess it’s my turn in the sharing circle?”
“It’s a very small circle.”
Small, but suddenly not as cozy as I’d like.
His fingers tapped on his track pad. “Will you talk to me about your … symptoms?”
I searched his eyes. Trusted what I saw. “I started seeing rips, but apparently everyone else with the time gene does, too.” He nodded confirmation. “My energy levels are insane. I don’t need to sleep or eat. I do, out of habit, but it isn’t necessary. All my senses feel sharper. And I heal really fast. Insanely fast. I can also hold any form I change into a lot longer. Things like my vocal cords and hair color have always been either impossible or complicated. Not anymore. No effort at all.”
“Show me.”
I thought for a second, and then morphed into Zoe Saldana à la Star Trek.
“James T. Kirk who? Spock who? Bring me a sexy Samoan.” I slipped back into my normal skin. “Are you okay? You kind of look like you swallowed your tongue.”
“Fine. I’m fine.” He rubbed one hand over his face, picked up a pencil, and started scribbling in his spiral notebook.
“The possession, or whatever, isn’t connected to my transmutation ability. It’s new, part of the Infinityglass thing.” I tried to sound casual as I asked the next question. “Do you have a theory on how the Infinityglass part of me kicked into gear?”
He tapped the eraser end of his pencil on the vanity. “It could be … hormonal.”
“Excuse me?”
“That wasn’t meant as any kind of insult; it’s just a known trigger for some people. Usually, it’s puberty.” Dune gave me the once-over, and then started scribbling in his notebook again.
“Yeah. I passed that a long time ago.”
“Obviously.” He wouldn’t look at me. “Or the genetic stressor could be an object or a million other things.”
I could tell from his expression and the speed of his pencil on the paper that he was thinking a hundred miles an hour. I was also pretty sure I knew what the trigger was, but I couldn’t go there yet. I had to talk to Poe.
“What happened with the rip is another side effect, like your senses or sleeping or energy level. I can’t stop thinking about all the variances. For us, back in Ivy Springs, the rips progressed. At first, only travelers could see them, and they could be interacted with. Then they became scenes, and the travelers existed outside them. Then anyone with an active time gene could see rips, whole scenes. Rip worlds. Time started blending: rips with humans but no interaction between the two.”
“But I interacted with rip people. Stepped into someone else’s life. Has anyone else done that?”
“I don’t think so. Here’s a list of everything everyone has seen.” He leaned back so I could see his computer screen, and then pointed to a desktop folder titled “IG.” “I’m going to send you this file. It contains all the basics about the Infinityglass, from when I thought it was an object. If you want to look over it, we can talk about it, see if any of it applies to you.”
“You mean, slick as glass, gritty, curvy, immalleable?”
“If those are the ones that work.” He shut his laptop and slipped it into the case. “Have you decided whether or not I’m a nice guy?”