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Timebound(52)

By:Rysa Walker


I could hear Katherine’s voice in the kitchen. “So kind of you, Trey. Connor will certainly be pleased—he has an insatiable sweet tooth.” She turned as I walked into the kitchen, two iced coffee drinks in her hands. “I’ll just take these upstairs and leave you two young people to talk.”

“Hi, Kate.” Trey was crouched down, petting Daphne, whose tail was wagging happily. “I see they found you something to wear besides your school uniform.”

I nodded, hit by an inexplicable wave of shyness. Despite everything that had happened the day before, we were still only a few hours removed from being strangers. “Connor is a surprisingly good shopper, as it turns out.” I took one of the two remaining drinks, both of which were topped with whipped cream and a drizzle of caramel, and settled down on the window seat. “Thanks. How did you know that caramel and coffee is my favorite flavor combination?”

“Well—the coffee part I knew from yesterday. Caramel was just a lucky guess.” He sat down next to me and his smile faded a bit. “So… are you okay? I mean, that was some hellacious day you had. I was thinking about it on the drive home and, well, I was worried about you. Kind of wished I could call or text you or something, but…”

“Hold on.” I walked over to the counter near the telephone and found a notepad. I jotted down the screen name and free email account I had set up that morning while I was ordering some additional clothes and other necessities.

“These are both active now,” I told him. “No phone yet—we’re going to get one of those pay-as-you-go things next time Connor goes out. Katherine and Connor had to do some creative banking yesterday once they realized what happened. She kept a lot of cash on hand and his accounts are still active—I mean, he still exists, it’s just that some things are different. I’m beginning to wonder how long we have before someone out there figures out that we are, technically, squatters. The house is shielded from the time shift, but… if Katherine doesn’t own it now, someone must.”

“Yeah, you’d think,” he said. “So did you get all of your answers? It looked like the conversation was headed toward choppy waters when I left.”

I shrugged. “I actually decided I wasn’t up to that conversation last night. But we’ve made up for lost time since I woke up this morning.” I began filling him in on the day’s events and revelations, then hesitated a bit when I reached the part about the Cyrists.

“What religion are you, Trey?”

“Uh—Presbyterian, I guess? We don’t really go regularly—at all, to be honest. Actually, I’ve probably been to more Catholic services. Estella likes to have company at holiday mass. Why?”

“Just making sure I wasn’t about to step on any toes. This is going to sound kind of crazy, anyway.” I took a deep breath and then continued. “How much do you know about the Cyrists?”

“About as much as anyone who isn’t a Cyrist, I guess. They’re pretty secretive—but I’ve known a lot of members, both here and abroad. They’re everywhere in Peru. Not quite as numerous as Roman Catholics, but it’s a close call. I don’t like it when they try to lecture me on ‘The Way,’ especially when they seem so genuinely worried that ‘The End’ is near. But otherwise they seem harmless enough. And they do a lot of educational work with the poor and other charities, so…”

I explained about Saul’s creation of Brother Cyrus and the Cyrist International, and as I expected, Trey’s reaction was pretty much the same as mine had been. It was hard to fathom how an organization that had, in our view, existed long before we were born could have possibly been formed in just the past year.

“But you know,” he said, considering the possibility, “if you wanted to build a power base that was outside the scrutiny of the government, a religious organization gives you a lot of room to maneuver. And the Cyrists have an odd mix of liberal and conservative views—the purity pledge, and then women can be ordained, but they have to marry another ordained minister. Most of the temples are led by a family, with control passed down from one generation to the next.”

He paused, pointing at the CHRONOS medallion on my chest. “So if you took that thing to a Cyrist temple, you’re saying that they would see it the way you do? And that they could use it?”

I nodded. “The leaders of the temple, yeah. Or at least that’s the theory we’re going on. They’d be able to power the diaries, too.” I walked over to the table, then picked up Katherine’s personal diary that I been listening to earlier and opened it. As with Charlayne, Trey could see the scrolling text, but he couldn’t make it scroll.