“Yes. He knows my sister. And I saw him at a party the other night. He keeps trying to tell me that we were together in England in the sixteenth century.” I look at Janine. “The same lifetime where I met Griffon.”
I’m almost rewarded by the fact that Janine looks surprised. “So what does Drew want from you?”
“He said it was fate that we’re together now. I could tell he was hurt that I didn’t believe him. I was married to someone named Connor . . . before . . . and I remember parts of it. I have a strong memory of him being taken away by the king’s soldiers. Something about treason. I think it was just after that that he was killed.”
“And you’re sure of these memories?” Sue asks. “This Drew person isn’t imposing his memories on you?”
“I’m sure.” I pull the ankh out of my shirt, the dark red ruby in the center almost glowing, despite the fact that we’re inside under fluorescent lights. “I remember Connor giving me this back then. Griffon returned it to me after all this time.”
Sue gets up and takes a step toward me. “May I see that up close?”
I nod, and she lifts the ankh up, examining the front and the back. “This is definitely from that time period.”
“He had it made for me. I remember him saying that in a memory I had early on.”
Sue looks at Janine and then back to me. “If he had an ankh made for you in the sixteenth century, then that means Connor was probably Akhet back then. It’s not a common symbol for that time, at least not in England. He must be Iawi.” She sits back in her chair and looks at the two of us. “How did the ankh end up with Griffon?”
I hesitate, but don’t see any reason not to tell her the truth. “He’d gotten it as payment. For executing me.”
She looks confused. “An Akhet executioner? I can’t imagine.”
“He wasn’t Akhet then,” I say quickly. “He was forced into it. And when he became Akhet in the seventeenth century, he spent most of a lifetime tracking down the family heirlooms that had been given to him so that he could hopefully return them one day.”
Sue nods. “Interesting form of penance,” she says thoughtfully.
“So you said this boy’s name was Drew?” Janine continues. “How old is he in this lifetime? What does he look like?”
I close my eyes, trying to focus on the details and not the whole package. Because I’m not attracted to him, no matter how he thinks our past lives connected. No matter what I felt for Connor back then. “Twentysomething, I think. Tall, blond hair and blue eyes. With an accent. He’s from Australia originally and does jewelry design for the shop where Kat works.”
Janine looks thoughtful. “Hmm. He may be Iawi, but he’s not Sekhem. I didn’t even know anyone like that was nearby.”
“Khered?” Sue asks Janine.
“Must be,” Janine nods.
“What’s Khered?” It seems like every day there’s some new mysterious word they’re throwing around.
“Khered are like children,” Sue explains, a hint of disdain in her voice. “They’re Akhet, usually newer Akhet, who don’t want the responsibility of the knowledge and abilities that come to us over our lifetimes. They spend their time looking for personal gratification—fame, money, parties, drinking. Mostly frivolous activities. They generally shun the Sekhem and all we stand for, using up resources and enjoying themselves, and that’s about it. Improving the world for current and future generations isn’t on their radar.”
“Are there a lot of them?”
“More than enough,” Janine sneers. “But I’m surprised that an Iawi is mixed up with Khered. Usually by the time someone’s been around for a while they mature enough to leave that lifestyle behind.”
Sue leans forward on her elbows. “So, what are you going to do about this Drew person?”
“Nothing, if I can help it.” I look at Janine. “I know this is probably weird to hear because you’re his mom and all, but I love Griffon, and I want to spend as much time as I can with him in whatever lifetimes we’re lucky enough to be in together. We were drawn to each other after what happened between us last time. Griffon was the one who recognized that I’m Akhet, and he’s been there through all the craziness that’s happened since. If there’s any fate involved, mine is to be with Griffon. Not Drew.”
“Forgive me for saying this,” Janine says quietly, “but you don’t sound like you’re trying to convince me. Sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself.”
Seven
“Watch that car!” Mom shouts, grabbing for the dashboard and pumping an imaginary brake on the passenger side. “He’s pulling out!”
“I see him,” I say irritably, turning the wheel to the left to avoid the Prius’ bumper. Driving with her is always a lesson in patience, as well as three-point turns and parallel parking. She freaks out about every little thing. I can’t wait until I take my driving test next month and can kick her out of the car.
“Get in the right lane. You’re going to turn right up here.”
“In, like, a mile,” I say, putting on the blinker just to shut her up. “I know where I’m going.” I wonder if I’ve had a driver’s license in a previous lifetime, because driving doesn’t seem all that hard.
“You should always anticipate your next move,” she says, craning her head back to make sure there’s no car in my blind spot.
“And the next move of everyone around me,” I finish for her. “I know. Maybe I should get my behind-the-wheel hours with Dad.”
She turns to me, a pained look on her face. “Why would you say something like that? It’s hurtful.”
“I’m just saying that Dad doesn’t get as . . . nervous as you do when we’re driving.”
“Well, forgive me for caring,” she says, folding her arms and slumping in the passenger seat.
“I know you care. I just need you to care a little more calmly.”
“Right!” she says, pointing. “Take a right here. The restaurant is just down this block. Look for a place to pull over.”
I slow down, looking for the restaurant. “Can I stay out past curfew? Just for tonight? I’ll be with Kat the whole time.”
“We agreed on midnight,” she says. “Nothing good ever happens after midnight.”
I double-park next to the row of cars that line the street. “I’m sixteen,” I say, my frustration mounting about my inability to change any of my parents’ stifling rules. “Almost seventeen. Soon I’m going to have a driver’s license, and with all of the money I’ve saved from giving cello lessons, Dad said he’d help me buy a car—”
“Look,” she interrupts. “I know how hard it is to be young. To have your first crush. I’m just trying to help you make the right choices.”
I get out of the car and slam the door. “I don’t need that kind of help. I’m not a baby.” I wish I could tell her how much I’ve been remembering lately. About being in England. About being an adult. That I really am not a little kid anymore.
A car pulls up behind ours and starts honking. I think for a second that Mom is going to give him the finger, but she just glares at the driver. “I know you’re not. And soon enough you’ll be away at school and can make your own decisions. But for now, the answer is midnight.” She glances into the restaurant. I can see Kat and Owen standing just inside the door. “Call me if you need a ride home.”
“I’ll be fine.”
Mom looks like she wants to say something else, but the car honks again, so she just gets in the driver’s seat and pulls out into traffic, swerving to dodge a car that’s pulling out in front of her.
Peter and Rayne walk up just as I’m reaching for the door, and Rayne lets go of his hand to give me a hug. “Are we late?”