Chapter 35
We made it all the way to the beginning of the garden before we stopped to take a breath, to look around, see if we’d been followed, or if someone had spotted us.
So far nobody was calling and nobody was running anywhere around us, so we figured it was safe enough to gather in our usual spot.
Nobody sat down this time, though, not on the bench and not on the ground.
We stayed closer together, too, all of us between the two larger trees, looking about, waiting still…
“Anybody wanna tell me what an anchor is?” Seth asked first.
The others then erupted at the same time, talking over one another.
Do we look like Timekeepers to you—
An anchor is an anchor—who knows what it means in this place—
Who messed with them, and what in Time’s Trousers would it mean for us if we go into the next trial now—
Who were they talking about—
Who even knows how to bypass Diamond clearance—
Does that mean they’re a Diamond—
Do you understand what kind of systems Diamonds create—they’re un-bypassable!
On and on they went, but nobody was getting anywhere fast.
I stepped away to the side of the tree for a moment to get myself together, to try to clear my head and think about an answer for a change, because we all had these questions.
The problem was, we hadn’t heard nearly enough.
Even so, one face stood out in my mind’s eye—one face. And when the others calmed down a couple minutes later, exhausted by their own questions, Levana said, “Do you guys think they meant…Sy?”
Yes. That was exactly who I thought they meant, too.
“He always has the answers,” said Seth.
“He always knows things about…things,” said Erith.
“Like today, when he knew that timeometers are illegal—did any of you even know that thing could exist in the first place?” asked Helen.
We all shook our heads.
There were more things to mention—like how everybody always looked at Silas a certain way when they first met him, and how secrets hung in the air around him like an aura, and how he inspired trust when speaking to you, but he rarely shared anything about himself at the same time.
He knew how to get the sap out of the Tree of Years, and he knew that the Labyrinth was a giant machinery underneath the ground—not to mention he always had the answers to any question Master Talik ever asked in the workshop.
But at the same time it was Silas.
He was kind. He was sweet. He was good—you could see it in his eyes. He cared—a lot more than me. I’d say more than anyone.
“So what is he doing then, if it is Sy?” March wondered. “Why would he deliberately sabotage the Labyrinth when he’s in the trials, too? It makes no sense.”
It didn’t.
“Where is he, anyhour?”
“Maybe we should just ask him about it?”
“Or maybe we can just stop pointing fingers and think about it for a second.” This from Seth. “Silas has been nothing but kind and helpful to all of us since the get-go. Let’s not accuse him of something when we don’t even know what the something is.”
“We’re not accusing him,” I said. “We’re trying to understand.”
“Exactly,” Mimi said. “You heard the Timekeepers at the end, right? When Cal said, you know what he is, right? He said what he is, not who. What.”
Another long moment of silence ticked by. My head was already killing me.
“Let’s just get to bed for tonight before anybody sees us here. Let’s move,” March said eventually. The others must have felt as hopeless as me because they were all eager to call it a night.
Things were getting so…serious.
None of this was like we’d expected, and now we were face to face with the consequences—and nothing was even over yet. We still had another trial to survive among the secrets crawling in the shadows, and people who could be anything, anyone, and you wouldn’t even know it until it was too late.
Mimi stayed on the ground floor near the grandfather clock we always passed at the junction to get to our dorms.
“You guys go ahead, I’ll catch up,” she said waving us off as she stopped to look at it. She was always looking at it like that—like she both loved it and was wary of it. I found it odd but said nothing. None of us did.
And when we made it to our dorms, it hit me all over again just how much I didn’t want to be in my room right now, not alone. I didn’t want to be with everyone, either—just with March.
March, who was already saying his goodnights to the others. Who opened his door, not even looking back at me the way he usually did.
Probably because he already knew I’d be on my way to him before I got to my room.
“Hey,” I said before he could close the door, and others turned to look at me, some with grins, some with wiggling brows as they went. I didn’t really care, to be honest.
March stopped, turned to look at me, even tried to pretend he was surprised to find me there.
“Yes, Ora?”
Heat on my cheeks, especially when the corner of his lips turned up a bit.
“I was, uh…I was wondering if you were going to sleep right away.” Time’s Teeth, I should have been goo all over the floor by now. It was insane that this was so hard even after everything.
March arched a brow slowly, and said nothing until the last door in the hallway was closed, and we were outside, all alone.
“I am,” he then said. “Why do you ask?”
Do it—do it—do it, my mind chanted, because I knew that if I chickened out and walked away, I’d be staring at the ceiling all night, and then inevitably just come to his door again. Better to just get this over with right now.
“Because maybe I could…come over.”
Fuck, it was like the words were nails coming up my throat. They cut me wide open.
“Oh. You want me to fuck you again?” My jaw hit the floor. “How…predictable.”
Holy Hour, I could hardly believe my ears. “March,” I said in a whisper, not entirely sure what I wanted to sound like—a warning, or maybe a plead?—but he didn’t care.
“I’m right, aren’t I? You want to come into my room, take what you can, then leave in the middle of the night again while I’m asleep.” He smiled, his eyes dark, his words full. Heavy.
“I—”
“I’m afraid that’s a no. My schedule’s full.” He stepped into his room and grinned bitterly. “Have the night you deserve, Spade.” And he closed the door in my face.
I was left standing there like an idiot staring at the wood, wondering if I should set his room on fire, or maybe the entire Ever; if I should scream and cuss and kick the stupid door down, or if I should just go back to my room and never-ever-reven speak to him again.
Since the other options weren’t worth the effort, I decided on the last.
I knew March hadn’t taken it lightly that I’d left his room at dawn, had peeled his arms off me, had snuck out without telling him.
I knew he was pissed about it. Hurt. I didn’t really care about that, if we were completely honest here, but I genuinely didn’t expect to be humiliated like that.
To be looked at with such mockery—not by him.
Either way, I cried when I went back to my room. I cried because I didn’t care but it somehow still hurt. It somehow still cut me wide open, and my ego was a bruised mess on the floor, and my pride was piles of ashes near it, too.
Just before I finally fell asleep sometime after two o’clock, I promised myself that I was never going to put myself in that position again, to the Everstill with how he felt and how he looked and how he tasted.
Minutes—that’s what it felt like. I slept for minutes, and then warm sunlight was on my face and there was a knock on my door, and I was sure it was Lida.
She’d come to get me for breakfast, but I didn’t want to eat.
I didn’t want to do anything, and I’d be damned if anybody could make me. Not today.
So I took in a deep breath and prepared to tell her to go away, to shout it at the top of my lungs if I had to, when…
“Tick-tock-tea-talk. You up yet?”
It wasn’t Lida at all, and I didn’t even need to jump out of bed and run to the door to convince myself that I hadn’t heard wrong—I hadn’t.
It was Silas.