CHAPTER NINE #2
“It’s a type of constructive interference,” Everest says.
Those words bring back memories of a tiny wooden desk next to Nova, both of us struggling to keep our rows of pens from clattering onto the linoleum floor while Professor Wadhwa drones on about waves and amplitude.
“Like in physics?” I don’t know why I’m surprised. Far more of my research here has involved physics, but I’ve still been able to frame the mending components in biological terms.
Everest nods, looking far too gleeful for my comfort.
“Cyrus told me about it ages ago. He deals with fate, so he’s more familiar with the different intersections of dimensions. Very similar concept to what you’ve learned, actually. Imagine two timelines as waves, and when their maxima or minima align, the new wave is the sum.”
A pleasant tingle starts up in my chest. It’s the same sweet sensation I cherish whenever I uncover something new in my work. “The intensities add up.”
Everest nods. “Exactly. Think of this as that concept, but obviously more waves and across dimensions. I reckon they’ve been caused by one event that has such sprawling repercussions that its impact is felt across multiple timelines.
It’s rare, given that the carousel does self-correct a lot, or you’d be occupied constantly. ”
“Thank god for that,” I say.
“You’re welcome.”
I roll my eyes. “So all the rot across the carousel, it stems from one point?”
Everest’s face falls. “That part is the issue.”
“We can’t tell?”
“I can see this,” he says, and different threads lift up, plucked by an invisible claw.
They shimmer in shades of silver and blue.
“The displacements of the event, or the ripple effect. But I can’t trace it back to the root cause.
Good news is, if we fix the time blip there, then, theoretically, everything else should resolve itself as well. ”
My chest deflates. “But we don’t know what it is.”
Everest uses his free hand to pick at another thread, this one like gilt wire. “I suspect it’s this, given the warmer coloring. Event zero, if you will, is like a tap root from which other branches sprout. But I’d imagine your gut is telling you what it is too, isn’t it?”
I don’t realize how far forward I’m leaning until I look up and notice that our faces are barely an inch apart, covered in a patchwork of color emanating from his palm.
Pieces of this elaborate celestial puzzle click into place.
There’s only one event that could be so dominant that it shreds the continuum of time and space in that manner that it has.
Only one thing that’s unprecedented enough to warrant such weight.
“Valentin.”
“She’s the key to this, I think. We need to find out who she is, where she came from, and then we can work on taking her back. I don’t know if she’s ready to hop into the carousel yet.”
I turn my attention back to the orb on his palm. “I don’t even know where to start…We should go see Quill later, see if she has any ideas.”
“I have some myself,” Everest says, surprising me. I take in his deep, contemplative expression and realize he means it. Whatever is going on with Valentin is different to before, and I don’t know why, but it’s nice having him here, helping. “But it’ll have to wait a while. I’ll be gone tomorrow.”
My stomach turns leaden. “Again? You literally just got back.”
“Important meeting,” he says, smiling glumly. “But I’ll be back in two days, which should give her more room to adjust. And you can speak to Quill.”
It’s a good plan, and yet, I hate the thought of him leaving all the same. He said two days, and he’s been good about following his word recently. But I can’t shed the memories of when he left me cold and waiting.
Everest brushes his thumb against my cheek. “I promise.”
The words send a shiver down my spine. His eyes roam my face, and despite the light between us, they look darker than they ever have before.
His smell is sweet and dizzying, and it’s confusing how my stomach pitches and my breath catches; and if he’s paying even a fraction of the attention to me that I am to him, he’s seeing every bit of the physiological reaction I’m having.
“Ryka?”
Beam’s timid call jolts me a safe distance away from Everest. The shimmering ball in his hand fades to black smoke as Beam floats through the tent drapes.
It takes a minute for my brain to catch up with the rest of my body, like it’s checking the functionality of all my organs before comprehending why she’s here.
Beam stops short at the sight of Everest, and it’s the evident fright on her face that stows all thoughts of Valentin, the carousel, and Everest’s trips away from the fair into a deep, dark corner as my attention pivots entirely onto the little girl in front of me.
“Come inside,” I tell her. “Everest was just leaving.”
He frowns at me. “I was?”
We need to debrief, but not in front of her, not when she shows up to my tent unannounced like this. If it’s for the reason I imagine, then I’m not sure Beam wants Everest there. I flick my head towards the exit, widening my eyes ever so slightly.
“Right, I was,” he says, bounding to his feet like he’s been possessed by an immediate need to vacate the premises. He puts a hand to the back of his neck, and I look away from the shape of his bicep, prominent in his fitted dark sweater.
“He can stay if he wants,” Beam says, halting him in his tracks.
I search her face. “He can?”
She nods, but it’s missing her characteristic enthusiasm. All of her is solemn, and I can feel Everest’s concern balloon as he clocks it too, the wrongness of Beam.
Beam, whose awkward shuffle may or may not indicate regret at the permission she just granted.
“Alright, then, you can help us,” I tell him, getting to my feet.
“Help with what?”