Time's Mirror: A CHRONOS Files Novella (The CHRONOS Files)

Also by Rysa Walker

Novels

Timebound

Time’s Edge

Novellas

Time’s Echo

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, and events are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual locations, events, or people, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by Rysa Walker

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be used or reproduced by any means without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations included in critical articles and reviews.

For information:

http://www.rysa.com

First edition: June 2015

For my Mama

And all the other Mamas and Moms

who give your kids the side-eye

when they call you Mother.

Contents

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

Acknowledgments

About the Author

1

A
RLINGTON,
V
IRGINIA

September 14, 1984, 2:32 p.m.

“There’s no way Mom will let you out of the house in that,” Deborah says, looking up from her book. “Or with that much makeup. She’s going to march you right back upstairs and—”

“Ah, but
Mother
isn’t taking me. She’s locked up in the study working on some report. Dad’s driving me.”

Deb nods, because we both know that unless I get into the car in my underwear, Dad won’t have a clue whether what I’m wearing has earned the Katherine Shaw stamp of approval. A skirt this short would be vetoed in a flash. I had to buy the outfit with my own money, sneak it in, and hide it in the very back of the closet, behind that poufy thing I wore to the eighth-grade dance.

It was worth it. The edges of my red bra peek up over the black lace shirt if I move
just
right. I practiced in front of the mirror, and it looks perfect when I hold the violin up to my shoulder. Jason already seems to have forgotten that I’m fifteen—well, practically fifteen. With any luck, this ensemble will also make him forget I’m his student.

“But what about when you come home?” Deb asks. “You still have to get up the stairs, Pru.”

“Well, that’s where you come in, my dearest darling sister. Could you run interference when you hear the car pull up? Pretty, pretty please? I’ve been waiting
three
whole weeks
for this opportunity, and who knows when I’ll get another one. I’ll return the favor and I’ll even let you wear this. Promise!”

Deb laughs and shakes her head, because we know that both promises are pretty much risk free. The guys Deb likes have parents picking out names for the grandchildren after the first date. And unless Deb has a radical change in style, she wouldn’t be caught dead in this outfit. We’re twins, but we’re most definitely not identical.

“Okay, okay,” she says. “But if Mom catches you, I had no idea what you were wearing. I was taking a nap when you left
, capisce
?”

“Capisce
.”

“It’s
capisco
, if you’re agreeing.”

“Don’t care,
mon frere
. Thank you, thank you. I owe you one.”

Deb snorts. “You
owe
me about a million.”

Which is true, but she’ll never expect me to pay up, and that makes her the perfect sister.

I squeeze her foot and hurry over to the mirror, pulling my dark curls up and off to one side. “More lip gloss, or do I look perfect?”

She tips her head to to the right. “If by perfect, you mean three years older and asking for trouble, then yes. Absolutely perfect.”

Since I’m actually going for four years older, I add one more layer of my aptly named Darkest Berry lip gloss before grabbing the violin case. “Could you tell Dad I’m waiting in the car? And…maybe make sure the witch is still in her study?”

Sighing, Deb closes her book and stashes it under the mattress. Okay, that’s the one area where she matches me in secrets. Mother lets us read any sort of non-fiction, but when it comes to fiction, if she had her way we’d both still be reading Nancy Drew.

“Love you!” I yell as Deb heads downstairs.

“Yeah, yeah, love you, too.”

I reach into the dresser drawer, pull out the medallion, and stash it in the pocket of my skirt. If Deb or Mother saw it we’d just have another fight. I’m starting to think Deb is color-blind, or maybe just plain blind-blind, because she swears it’s plain bronze and I’ve never seen anything more neon green than this baby. I’m pretty sure Mother sees the color, too, because she turned white as a ghost when she caught me with hers, yanking it away like I’d found her diary or a sex toy or something.

She’s not as good a liar as she thinks. Like when we were arguing the other day and I asked if she’d ever dated someone older than her before she met Dad. Mother said yes, and then added that the guy was only two years older. Her eyes got all round and innocent like one of the characters on
Astroboy
when she said the last part. They always do that when she’s hiding something.

I don’t think this is the medallion that belonged to Mother, because that one was on a silver chain. This one, I found yesterday. It was hard to miss in the dark attic, with the green light seeping through the edges of the box. The same hourglass thing is in the middle, but this medallion hangs from a black leather cord. It doesn’t match my outfit, aside from the cord, but I want to see what Jason says. He’s artistic, like me. I bet he’ll see the light, too.

I wait until I hear Deb give our secret “coast is clear” knock on the stairwell wall and dash down the stairs, through the kitchen door, and into the garage. Dad joins me about half a minute later, patting his pocket for his keys and his glasses. I love him to death, but Jim Pierce’s picture is in the dictionary right next to “absentminded professor.”

We’re two blocks from the house, about to turn onto Glebe, when Dad says, “Oh, rats. I forgot my book.”

“Dad! We’re going to be late.”

“Nonsense. It will only take a minute to turn back. I’m not going to sit there for an hour doing nothing. I’ll just leave the car running and go in the front. We have
plenty
of time.”

I’m not so sure about that, given the rainy weather, but there’s no point arguing. He’s already turning around.

Dad leaves the car idling near the sidewalk and dashes into the house, pulling his jacket up slightly so that it shields his head from the rain. It does only take a minute before he’s climbing back into the car, book in hand.

I look up at the last second to see Mother standing in the doorway. There’s absolutely no doubt that she sees my makeup, even if she can’t see the clothes. There’s no way Deborah will be able to distract her now. She’ll be waiting at the door when we get back and I’ll be grounded for all eternity. Next violin lesson, she’ll have me dressed like I’m ten years old.

What the hell. In for a dime, in for a dollar.

I pull the medallion out of my pocket and hold it up to the window, giving her a
screw you
grin. Yes, it will probably add an extra eternity to my grounding, but it’s worth it to see that look on her face one more time.

“New outfit?” Dad says as we turn onto the main road.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“I like plaid.” He turns up the radio, which—as always—is tuned to the local university station that plays news and classical.

Mother’s going to yell at Dad, too, although she’ll let him off the hook pretty quickly because she knows he’s clueless about this sort of thing. But I guess I’m still feeling a little guilty, because I’m compelled to say I like the song that’s playing, even though I have no idea who the composer is.

We drive along for a bit. I listen to the boring music and watch the raindrops connect as they drip down the windows. The sky beyond the bridge is nearly the same shade of gray as the Potomac. I start to put on the medallion, but then I remember that one of these has been in Mother’s jewelry box for who-knows-how-long, and I don’t really want to know if Dad can see the glow. I’d rather believe that only Jason and I, along with a few other truly romantic souls, can see this light.

After my lesson, I’ll give it to Jason and he can hide it in his car. That way, he’ll think of me all week, each time he sees the glow.

I wrap the cord around my wrist, deciding to wait and put it on when I go in for my lesson. But I keep glancing back down at the thing. It’s weird, because I can occasionally see more than just the green glow when it’s in my palm. There’s an almost holographic effect as this black fuzzy square rises up from the circle, and occasionally, I see a blip of something that looks like numbers.

It’s hypnotic. I stare into it, watching as white specks like tiny snowflakes drift downward in front of my eyes.

The car in front of us brakes suddenly. Dad does the same, jolting me forward.

I blink.

And then I’m falling.

When I open my eyes, Dad, the car, the gray sky, and the gray river have all disappeared. There’s nothing but the blackness, although it’s not entirely black anymore. The glow of the medallion creates a halo of green, lighting up the tiny white specks around me that look like bits of paper or maybe rock.

It’s pretty until I look down and see that the ground below is rushing straight toward me.