“It’s good to have a cause to work toward.” His words felt carefully chosen, but his voice was steely, hinting at something.
“So you’re fine with it?”
“With what exactly?” Papá nodded toward the next target, so I picked up another throwing knife. Before I released it, Papá hit a brass switch on the wall, and the target started to move.
“I want to find more ways to help.” That time I took an extra few seconds before releasing. The knife’s point buried itself in the dummy’s leg, the handle quivering slightly from its continued movement.
“Yes, but how?”
“You could include the Lower Chimes as part of your platform for next week’s debate. If you fought to improve their quality of life, think of how many votes it would get you.” And how much good it would do.
Papá flipped another switch and a burst of steam released into the room with a loud hiss, making the air hot and humid. I waved a hand in front of my face, wishing I had my goggles. The next knife went wide.
“If you want a sure way to help the Lower Chimes, then don’t do anything to endanger your engagement to Desmarc. My influence will be much stronger once I’m Prime Meridian, and we will finally be able to do things that were out of reach before.” Papá’s eyes held a strange, fevered light that made me curious about what he was referencing. It didn’t feel like we were just talking about the Lower Chimes anymore.
But more pressing than asking what things he thought he’d be able to do if he became Prime Meridian was finding out why he kept bringing up my engagement.
“Why do you think I’m going to ruin things with Desmarc?” I reached for another knife, but my fingers met empty wood. The throwing knives were gone. With a sigh, I went to retrieve them, trying not to think about Desmarc’s words about the Lower Chimes. Honestly, with our opposite views on something so fundamental, I was beginning to worry about us myself.
“I don’t think you’re going to, but a reminder for extra vigilance is never out of place.” Papá pressed a button, and the dummy stopped moving. “And with the debate a week away, it’s a critical time for your relationship and the press.”
I collected all three knives and returned to my spot. “I know, Papá.”
Papá and I kept at it for another ten minutes before he returned to his office and I went to check the siphon for another message. Now that I had a way to contact him directly, it was going to be much harder to be patient for updates on the case.
A glass tube waited for me.
Poppy,
Glad to hear everything is fine. I have updates on what we talked about, but we need to talk in person. Your quick response was much appreciated.
-H.A.
That was it? Didn’t he know what it was like to have to wait for news?
I grabbed another sheet of paper.
H,
Your reply left much to be desired. Is there anything you can tell me now so I don’t have to wait?
-K
I slid the glass container back into the pipe, then trudged back to my room to shower and change for my meeting in an hour.
The hot water unknotted my muscles, and I stared at Mamá’s ring while I brushed my hair. Despite my newfound resolve for independence, I didn’t want to risk Papá taking away any chances to see Mamá, so I’d returned the key to my vault to Papá’s dresser once we’d arrived home that night.
After I changed clothes, I hesitated before putting my gloves back on. It was nice to be free of them, even if only for a bit.
With a glance down the hall to make sure it was empty, I closed my door and locked it. Without my gloves on, the textures in my room jumped out at me. The soft velvet of my cerulean comforter, the cool metal of my bed frame, the smooth wood of the windowsill that overlooked the gardens.
I crossed the room to my closet and opened the door, running a hand over the various gowns. Then I touched the white chiffon top with the leather corset and tiered lace skirt I’d worn at my engagement party.
A blue spark jumped from the gown to my finger. I inhaled sharply and braced myself for the tug as my spirit Slipped into the past.
As usual, time rushed by me like a raging river of memories and sensations until it disappeared, leaving me in the dark. My dress hung from my hand, startling bright against the blackness around me.
It pulsed in my hand, and the darkness whirled around me. A mirror version of myself from two weeks ago appeared next to me.
It was the strangest thing, being so close to me—and not just the infant or toddler version of myself I’d seen before—but me from just a few weeks ago.
Past Me sighed and looked around while nibbling on a green macaron, and pieces of the ballroom fell into focus. She stood at the refreshment table with Desmarc as he spoke to someone I couldn’t see. Soon she’d see Professor Sophronia and follow her outside. Maybe it was my excitement at seeing the professor that had pulled me back to this moment.
Thump.
Her gaze homed in on the server bot, then a crowd of people along the far wall fell into focus as she scanned for Professor Sophronia. Their outfits were blurry, hardly differentiating them from the smoke, but I scanned their faces for Professor Sophronia.
Except this time, my gaze caught on a familiar pair of blue eyes, a straight nose, and button-up white shirt with a navy vest. Detective Atwood.
Past Me’s gaze skipped right over him in her haste to find Professor Sophronia. Yet even still, he must’ve made some sort of impression on me for me to be able to see him so clearly while Slipping.
The dress pulsed again. I was running out of time.
Past Me whispered something to Desmarc, who kissed my cheek before resuming his conversation.
Detective Atwood scowled at Desmarc, then shifted his attention to Past Me as she crossed the room.
The world around me dissolved into shadows as the distance between me and Past Me grew. I hurried to catch up, though I couldn’t help one final glance at Detective Atwood.
Past Me nodded in thanks at the man holding the door open, but I skidded to a stop and stared at him, my heart pounding wildly. I’d recognize that face anywhere. It was the killer, and he was staring at Papá.
Just like I’d suspected, he’d been at my engagement party, but I’d had no idea how close to danger I’d been. But knowing he was there wasn’t the same as knowing why he was there. Had he forged a fake invitation to the party in an attempt to get closer to Papá?
Questions buzzed in my mind, but I forced myself to move past the murderer and into the garden before I got too far from Past Me and the shadows swallowed me.
The path unfurled under my feet like a scroll someone unrolled with each step. Every second longer I spent here, the scenery fell into place, but my thoughts still whirled with how close I’d come to the killer.
Thump. Thump.
Past Me sat on the edge of the fountain, and it dissolved into place around me, like someone had taken a giant eraser to the air and removed the graphite pencil covering everything else.
She leaned forward and reached a hand into the fountain and lifted the bracelet. The familiar blue spark jumped to my finger and my body splashed into the fountain.
I stared at my expressionless face as I sat in the freezing water with the bracelet in my hand. For all the times I’d Slipped into my own memories, I’d never ended up in one where my past self was also Slipping. What would happen if I touched the bracelet now?
Thump. Thump. Thump.
I stepped forward and reached for the bracelet. A blue spark jumped to my finger before going through me. It was like I was half-here but half-not. Glimpses of the other Slip flickered across my vision. The woman’s bright shirt. A flash of fireworks. Then I was back at the fountain, staring at my motionless self.
My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I gaped at the bracelet. Nothing like that had ever happened before, and I was bursting with the need to talk to someone, but the only option I had was Papá, which was no option at all.
The world melted around me like candle wax until I fell back into my body.
I stared at the dress hanging in my closet, my heart still racing while a small headache formed behind my eyes. Maybe it was just from tension. Slowly, I let go of the material and leaned against the wall, steadying my shaky breathing.
There was definitely more to Slipping than I’d ever suspected.