“I wonder where he got that idea in his head,” Alister said, his eyes tracking Lola as she headed across the front of the room, glancing briefly at him as she passed through the door.
Wouldn’t be the first time. Lola had awakened a full year younger than he had. It didn’t sound like much, but she had twice the experience with all this that he did.
“Dunno,” Dick said. “I gotta go get my lunch from my locker, and I’m gonna get something from the vending machine, want to come with?”
Alister measured the intensity of Ainsley’s glare, trying to judge her mood.
No, she was too annoyed to mess with. He couldn’t stick with Dick and dodge her.
“I might meet up with you later. Ainsley’s pissed at me, I think.”
“Why?”
Alister drew the pocket watch out of his pocket, showing it to Dick.
“You steal that from your dad or something?”
“Something,” Alister said. He clasped a hand on Dick’s shoulder, then broke away, the two of them going in different directions.
Ainsley fell in step beside him.
She’s going to nag me, Alister thought, suppressing an out-loud groan in favor of a mental one.
“What are you doing?” Ainsley nagged him, the moment they were out of earshot of anyone.
“I’m going to go get lunch.”
“With the timekeep,” she said.
“What do you think?”
“I think you’re gaming the system.”
“Of course I’m gaming the system,” he said.
“Skipping class?”
“I’m not- I’m… I guess I’m skipping class. Literally. But-”
“But your parents and my parents and our aunts and our uncles and our grandparents have all gone over the rules, talking about the risks and the dangers. Time isn’t something you mess with.”
“It’s made to be messed with,” Alister said.
“We’ve only been practicing for the last year.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. You’re going to get hurt, or you’re going to get in trouble.”
“I’m not going to get in trouble if you don’t tell.”
“You’re going to get hurt, you jackass.”
“Keep saying it,” he replied, annoyed, “and you’ll probably make it true.”
“How many times do I have to say it before I get it through your thick skull? You can’t be reckless about this.”
“Can too,” he said.
“Can’t.”
“Can,” he said, “and will.”
She punched him hard in the arm.
“Geez!”
“Watch what you’re saying,” she said.
“I am. Look at this. Where are we?”
“School?”
“A training ground,” he said. “Lola’s messing with me, I think.”
“You think.”
“Feels that way. Thread-wise. Planting seeds.”
“Magic seeds? There are rules.”
“Rules, rules, rules. You think Lola’s playing by the rules? Do you think our parents are?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Say it clearer then,” he retorted.
Ainsley spoke through grit teeth, “You can break rules, but only after you’ve learned them.”
“I’m a fast learner.”
“Yeah? That’s why you’re skipping classes? How much are you putting in the bank there, Alister? Because I’m pretty sure we’re only required to fill one timekeeper a month. I’m almost positive they keep track of this stuff.”
She had her own pocketwatch in her hand. Hers had a proper chain, and wasn’t quite as beat up.
“They do,” he said. “But Old Will keeps the books over at his place, and Timothy has the log in the library. They don’t really communicate that much.”
“They don’t- what are you doing, Alister? We avoid giving up too much time. Every single Behaim in the family gives up only what they have to, and you’re… what? Giving up twice as much time?”
He didn’t respond.
“…More than twice as much time?”
“Old Will is, well, old, for all intents and purposes. So if I give up as much as the other adults, he doesn’t notice.”
“A device every week? Plus the one you’re giving Tim? Five times what you’re supposed to be giving up?”
More than five times, he thought, but he didn’t volunteer that. Tim accepted more if he gave more.
“Why?” Ainsley asked.
“If I said, it might be a problem,” he said.
“Oh, it might? It’s already a problem. You’re wasting your time. It can’t be as simple as you wanting to skip school.”
“I’m doing what I want to do with my time,” he said. “It’s none of your business.”
“Alister,” Ainsley said, grabbing his wrist before he could walk away. “That’s can’t be it. Tell me why.”
■
“Tell me why,” Laird said.
Alister seethed. Ainsley stood a bit behind Laird, and their moms and dads. She looked a little spooked.
“I don’t think Ainsley was lying,” Laird said, “I don’t think you were lying when you told her what you did. There’s a chance you were manipulated into doing this. Motivation matters.”
“I wasn’t manipulated.”
“You can’t make that judgement call yourself. Poisoning the well would be a key play for the Duchamps. Poisoning you and compelling you to feed that poison into the supply could destroy the family.”
“That’s not it,” Alister said.
“No,” Laird replied, “Probably not.”
Laird had this calm, assured manner of speaking, as if nothing could faze him. When he said something, it was hard to argue against it. Some of it was leadership, maybe, but some was just Laird’s natural way. Alister wondered if his uncle could talk a bad guy into a confession, just laying out the facts, and getting the guy to agree, until the guy was spilling his guts.
Uncle Laird continued, “We haven’t detected anything. But until you give us answers, we may have to take countermeasures. No more lessons, no more practicing, no access to the well, to give or take.”
“That’s not-“
“-Fair?” Laird finished. “Nothing is fair.”
It took a moment for the words to sink in. Alister was dimly aware of the adults exchanging looks of surprise.
Dangerous words, for a man that couldn’t lie.
“Nothing is fair,” Laird repeated himself, his words filling the silence.
Alister swallowed hard.
Uncle Laird was a hard man to face down. Especially when he was all serious like this.
“What were you doing?” Laird asked, his voice serious. “Missing school-”