Page 49
Story: Chasing Eternity
“Did you learn anything?”
He rakes a hand through his hair, his eyes locking onto mine with a mix of revelation and frustration. “I learned that Arthur is responsible for my grandfather’s death, as well as my father’s.” His jaw clenches with anger, eyes darkening with the weight of his past.
“And what became of your mother?” I ask, realizing I don’t really know much about Braxton’s history.
He scrubs a hand over his face, sighing deeply before taking a sip of his coffee. “After my father passed, we moved to Boston, where she had some distant relations. It was not an easy life, and it’s there that Arthur found me. I made the same deal as you. I agreed to go with him, if he looked after her.”
“Did you ever go back, to check on her?”
“Once,” he says, his voice strained, eyes clouding over with a memory. “From what I could see, he kept his word. But what I don’t understand is why he wants two Timekeepers under his roof.”
“I’m guessing it’s like the royal tradition of having an heir and a spare. Now that he knows he needs us to not only find the Antikythera’s missing pieces, but to bring them back safely, he wants a backup in case something should happen to one of us. It probably explains why he never lets us Trip together.”
“Makes sense.” Braxton nods, the tension in his shoulders easing a bit.
“Did you manage to speak with your grandfather again?” I ask. “You know, after Arthur left?”
“Complete silence,” he says, his lips twisting in frustration. “For some reason, the watch wouldn’t summon him.”
I release a defeated exhale. “Okay, so what now?” I ask. “My dad says we should figure out why Arthur is doing all this. What’s driving his need to go to these lengths to rule over time?”
“Because he’s the ultimate control freak?” Braxton suggests.
“That’s definitely part of it,” I agree. “But there’s got to be more to it. Maybe something from his past that continues to haunt him. If we can figure out his weakness, we might find a way to stop him. I mean, do we even know the true story of how Arthur became who he is?”
“Probably not.” Braxton frowns. “But digging into Arthur’s past isn’t easy. I’m sure I’ve read every article and interview ever written about him, and it’s always the same story. He’s meticulous about sticking to the script.”
“Which means he’s hiding something.”
“In this world where we see only what he wants us to, discovering the truth won’t be easy.”
We fall into a contemplative silence. Finally Braxton speaks up. “You’ve seen the Mechanism. Exactly how many pieces are left?”
I lift my gaze to the ceiling, calling up a mental image of the last time Arthur showed it to me. “There are loads of pieces still out there,” I say. “More planets to find, not to mention all the gears and dials and the protective case. At this rate, it’s at least a year or two away, maybe more.”
A year or two of living in luxury, traveling through time, honing my skills, maybe sneaking in another visit or two to my dad, and all the while I get to love Braxton. There are worse ways to pass the time.
“In the meantime,” Braxton says, drawing me back to the present, “we should start putting out feelers, see who might be willing to help us.”
“There’s not a single instructor we can count on,” I say. “Keane, Hawke, and Roxane—their livelihoods depend on Arthur. As for the support staff…” I briefly consider Freya, who cleans my room; Charlotte, who outfits me for my Trips; and even Killian’s friend Maisie, who works as a barmaid at the Hideaway Tavern. But I quickly rule them out. “Pretty much all of them have access to the book. They can come and go as they please. And yet…”
Braxton steadily sips from his coffee, waiting for me to finish my thought.
“We can definitely count on Mason,” I say, confident he won’t need much convincing to join us.
Braxton rests his mug against his chin, and even though I can see only the top half of his face, his skepticism is plain. “You sure about that?” He lifts a quizzical brow. “Because from what I saw last night, he made Blue.” Braxton leans forward, setting his coffee on the table before us. “And I got the impression that he’s very excited by the prospect. Not to mention he doesn’t much like me.”
“He doesn’t need to like you,” I say, confident that Mason is the one person, besides Braxton, that I can fully rely on. “Don’t forget,” I remind him, “Mason and I share a long history. And unlike the rest of us here, he came from a nurturing home, raised by a grandmother who loved him and looked after him. He had ambitions, goals he was actively working toward. He was on his way to achieving those dreams, when unfortunately, Arthur intervened.”
“Or, more accurately, Arthur made me intervene.” Braxton’s face is glum, his voice carrying a note of bitterness.
I edge closer, place a hand on his thigh, and give it a reassuring squeeze. “You know I don’t blame you for that,” I say. “And neither does Mason. He’s moved past it.”
Braxton leans his head back, casting a gaze to the coffered ceiling above. “All right, so that makes you, me, and Mason. That’s our lineup. Not exactly a formidable team.”
“But it’s a start,” I insist, determined to stay positive. “As for everyone else…” I pause, biting my lower lip. “Oliver and Finn might be willing to help.”
Braxton shoots me another skeptical look. “They had their chance to leave when they got hold of the book. Yet they chose to stay put.”
He rakes a hand through his hair, his eyes locking onto mine with a mix of revelation and frustration. “I learned that Arthur is responsible for my grandfather’s death, as well as my father’s.” His jaw clenches with anger, eyes darkening with the weight of his past.
“And what became of your mother?” I ask, realizing I don’t really know much about Braxton’s history.
He scrubs a hand over his face, sighing deeply before taking a sip of his coffee. “After my father passed, we moved to Boston, where she had some distant relations. It was not an easy life, and it’s there that Arthur found me. I made the same deal as you. I agreed to go with him, if he looked after her.”
“Did you ever go back, to check on her?”
“Once,” he says, his voice strained, eyes clouding over with a memory. “From what I could see, he kept his word. But what I don’t understand is why he wants two Timekeepers under his roof.”
“I’m guessing it’s like the royal tradition of having an heir and a spare. Now that he knows he needs us to not only find the Antikythera’s missing pieces, but to bring them back safely, he wants a backup in case something should happen to one of us. It probably explains why he never lets us Trip together.”
“Makes sense.” Braxton nods, the tension in his shoulders easing a bit.
“Did you manage to speak with your grandfather again?” I ask. “You know, after Arthur left?”
“Complete silence,” he says, his lips twisting in frustration. “For some reason, the watch wouldn’t summon him.”
I release a defeated exhale. “Okay, so what now?” I ask. “My dad says we should figure out why Arthur is doing all this. What’s driving his need to go to these lengths to rule over time?”
“Because he’s the ultimate control freak?” Braxton suggests.
“That’s definitely part of it,” I agree. “But there’s got to be more to it. Maybe something from his past that continues to haunt him. If we can figure out his weakness, we might find a way to stop him. I mean, do we even know the true story of how Arthur became who he is?”
“Probably not.” Braxton frowns. “But digging into Arthur’s past isn’t easy. I’m sure I’ve read every article and interview ever written about him, and it’s always the same story. He’s meticulous about sticking to the script.”
“Which means he’s hiding something.”
“In this world where we see only what he wants us to, discovering the truth won’t be easy.”
We fall into a contemplative silence. Finally Braxton speaks up. “You’ve seen the Mechanism. Exactly how many pieces are left?”
I lift my gaze to the ceiling, calling up a mental image of the last time Arthur showed it to me. “There are loads of pieces still out there,” I say. “More planets to find, not to mention all the gears and dials and the protective case. At this rate, it’s at least a year or two away, maybe more.”
A year or two of living in luxury, traveling through time, honing my skills, maybe sneaking in another visit or two to my dad, and all the while I get to love Braxton. There are worse ways to pass the time.
“In the meantime,” Braxton says, drawing me back to the present, “we should start putting out feelers, see who might be willing to help us.”
“There’s not a single instructor we can count on,” I say. “Keane, Hawke, and Roxane—their livelihoods depend on Arthur. As for the support staff…” I briefly consider Freya, who cleans my room; Charlotte, who outfits me for my Trips; and even Killian’s friend Maisie, who works as a barmaid at the Hideaway Tavern. But I quickly rule them out. “Pretty much all of them have access to the book. They can come and go as they please. And yet…”
Braxton steadily sips from his coffee, waiting for me to finish my thought.
“We can definitely count on Mason,” I say, confident he won’t need much convincing to join us.
Braxton rests his mug against his chin, and even though I can see only the top half of his face, his skepticism is plain. “You sure about that?” He lifts a quizzical brow. “Because from what I saw last night, he made Blue.” Braxton leans forward, setting his coffee on the table before us. “And I got the impression that he’s very excited by the prospect. Not to mention he doesn’t much like me.”
“He doesn’t need to like you,” I say, confident that Mason is the one person, besides Braxton, that I can fully rely on. “Don’t forget,” I remind him, “Mason and I share a long history. And unlike the rest of us here, he came from a nurturing home, raised by a grandmother who loved him and looked after him. He had ambitions, goals he was actively working toward. He was on his way to achieving those dreams, when unfortunately, Arthur intervened.”
“Or, more accurately, Arthur made me intervene.” Braxton’s face is glum, his voice carrying a note of bitterness.
I edge closer, place a hand on his thigh, and give it a reassuring squeeze. “You know I don’t blame you for that,” I say. “And neither does Mason. He’s moved past it.”
Braxton leans his head back, casting a gaze to the coffered ceiling above. “All right, so that makes you, me, and Mason. That’s our lineup. Not exactly a formidable team.”
“But it’s a start,” I insist, determined to stay positive. “As for everyone else…” I pause, biting my lower lip. “Oliver and Finn might be willing to help.”
Braxton shoots me another skeptical look. “They had their chance to leave when they got hold of the book. Yet they chose to stay put.”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103