Ricochet Through Time (Echo Trilogy Book 3) (41 page)

“It’s a party, Lex.” My mom pinched my arm. “Parties are for smiles, not frowns.”

I gave her a sidelong look, the one she knew all too well from my teenage years. I’d been back for weeks, but it was still disorienting to see her now, a genuine grandmother and unequivocal old woman. The deep lines on her face, the droop of her eyelids, the sag of her jowls, even the sound of her voice . . . I’d become Rip van Winkle in the span of nine months—I’d gone away, only to return to find that the world had kept on turning, that the people I loved had kept on aging, without me.

Or, in Grandma Suse’s case, had died. I was still having a hard time coping with that aspect of my new reality.

I glanced at my sister. She was sitting on a picnic blanket with her nearly grown son, Jackson, a future Nejeret, and her two younger kids, Bobby and Judy, named after her Nejeret husband’s parents who’d been killed by rogues over a decade ago. Jenny looked more like my mom than my mom did now, as strange as that may sound.

“It feels . . . I don’t know . . .” I scanned the yard.

We’d set up a grand barbecue and picnic on the back lawn. Everyone I loved was there, from my human family to the Nejerets who’d embraced and looked after them in my absence. Dominic and Kat were chatting animatedly, Kat showing him some parody of a sword fight with a half-eaten rib, and Neffe was sharing a picnic blanket with her current beaux, one of the former Kin. Marcus was locked in a deep discussion with my father at the barbecue, and Aset was in the center of the lawn with Tarset, teaching the soon-to-manifest young woman some ancient dance. I found the twins on the periphery of the merriment, heads bent together as they walked toward the main house.

“It just feels off somehow,” I said lamely.

“Perhaps your mind is still stuck in a pattern of expectant waiting broken only by intermittent moments of fight or flight,” Alexander suggested. He was sitting on the other side of my mom on the bench of our picnic table.

I watched the twins head into the house through the back door, then looked at my grandfather, frowning. “You’re probably right.” I leaned my head on my mom’s shoulder.

My mom slipped her arm around my waist and squeezed. “It’s so nice to have you back, sweetie. I can’t tell you how hard it’s been. Your father . . . for a while there, I wasn’t sure he’d pull through, but Syris and Susie helped. He’s always been a sucker for babies—and with Susie, it was almost like getting to raise you all over again.”

I smiled, a defense mechanism to fend off the sorrow I felt every time it hit me just how much I’d missed out on.

“She’s so curious, and they’re both so smart—the ‘wonder twins,’ Jenny calls them . . .”

As if on cue, Syris and Susie emerged through the back door. Susie led the way, what appeared to be a baseball held almost ceremoniously before her in her cupped hands.

I straightened, squinting more out of habit than any real need to see. My vision couldn’t really get any clearer. “What’s that in her hands?”

Behind her, Syris followed carrying a similar object, except his was black.

“Oh my God,” I breathed. “That’s the Apep orb.”

“Then the other must contain Re,” Marcus said, resting a hand on my shoulder.

I glanced up at him for a fraction of a second. I couldn’t bring myself to look away from the twins and what they were holding for longer than that. If the sphere Susie was holding contained Re, then . . .

“What about Nik?” I whispered.

Kat ran past the twins toward the house, Aset close on her heels. I felt torn, wanting to follow but needing to know what was going on with Syris and Susie and the two Netjer souls they were literally holding in the palms of their hands.

“I thought you said Apep was locked away in a safe wrapped in a layer of At and buried under a ton of cement,” I said to Marcus, not taking my eyes off my approaching children.

“It was.” Marcus’s voice was low, his tone even. He was pissed.

The other picnic-goers quieted and stared as the twins passed by, heading straight for us. But the twins—they only had eyes for Marcus and me.

“Don’t be cross, Daddy,” Susie said, a sweet smile coaxing out her shallow dimples. “We needed Apep’s ren . . . and Re’s. It’s time for us to take them home.” My teenage son and daughter stood side by side before us with contrasting expressions. Susie looked excited, eyes bright and color high in her cheeks. Syris, on the other hand, looked both anxious and worried. He looked like maybe, just maybe, he might be sick.

He looked like I felt. “Home?” I mouthed, my voice paralyzed.

“To the Netjer home universe,” Syris clarified.

I could feel my head slowly shaking back and forth and could do nothing to stop it.

“We have to go there anyway,” Susie said. “It’s the only way for us to learn more about what we are and what we can do.”

“You’re leaving?” I said numbly. But I’d only been back for a couple weeks. We’d barely had enough time to get to know each other.

“Not by choice,” Syris said, raising the orb filled with Apep’s inky, seething soul. “Apep and Re will continue to unravel if left in this state, and that can’t be allowed to happen. Sure, ma’at has been restored and the universe is in balance and everything—for the most part—but, in time, it will begin to deteriorate again right along with Apep and Re.”

Slowly, I shook my head. This couldn’t be happening. Their birth was supposed to fix everything. It was supposed to be over. It wasn’t fair; we’d only been a family for a couple weeks.

“But it will,” Susie said, misreading the reason for my headshake. “Apep and Re created this universe. They’re the souls of this place, as integral to it as your ba is to your body. Syris and me . . . we can hold it together without them, and in time we’ll share a bond with this universe as strong as theirs is, but the universe will change to fit us, and there’s no way to predict
how
it’ll change.” Her eyes grew glassy. “There’s no way to know if this world—if any of you—will even survive the changes.”

Syris handed the Apep orb to his sister, then stepped forward and took my hands in his. “Mother, you risked so much for us—for all of us. You must let us return the favor.”

“But you’re just kids,” I said, voice breaking. “I just had you a month ago.” I couldn’t have stopped the tears from spilling over the brim of my eyelids even if I’d wanted to.

Marcus gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Will it be dangerous?”

Syris’s focus shifted higher as he looked at his father. “We don’t know, but we’ll keep you updated.” Looking at me once more, he released my left hand and lifted it to close his fingers around my lapis lazuli falcon pendant. When he released it, the pendant felt hot against my skin and hummed with a barely perceptible vibration. “As long as you’re wearing this, I’ll be able to reach your mind.”

I brought my free hand up to grasp the pendant much as he had.

Syris looked at Marcus. “We’ve cut off access to the At. It’s so unreliable—” He shook his head. “As it is, it does more harm than good.”

“That’s really the other reason we’re going,” Susie said. “We’re not sure how to fix it, and we thought the other Netjer might have some ideas, or maybe once Apep and Re are restored to full health . . .” She shrugged. “I mean, we’ve never created a universe, so we’re hardly experts. There’s bound to be another Netjer who knows more about these kinds of things.”

The back door to the main house slammed open, and Kat and Aset came thundering out. “Where is he?” Aset shouted, running ahead. “Where’s my son?”

Susie and Syris exchanged a glance. “He’s gone,” Syris said, closely followed by Susie’s “He’s fine, though.”

Aset slowed to a walk just a few yards away. “Then where is he?”

Susie hugged the two orbs close against her. “He needs some time, Auntie. It’s been thousands of years since he was alone in his own mind, and he wanted to get away—to figure out who he is like
this
—before he saw anyone.”

“But I’m not just
anyone
,” Aset snapped, taking a step toward Susie. “I’m his mother.”

“Yes,” Syris said, moving to block his sister. “And we get that, we really do.” His eyes flicked to me, just for a moment. “We’ll never be able to thank you or Nik enough for everything you did to help our mother, but we created something for you . . . something we sort of stumbled upon when we were figuring out how our powers worked. It’s a gift we thought
might
at least start to show you how grateful we are.”

“Just tell me where my son is; that’s the only thank-you gift I need.”

“I’m sorry, Auntie, but we can’t do that,” Susie said, shaking her head.

“Can’t or won’t?”

“We’re merely respecting Nik’s wishes,” Syris said. “I’m sure he’ll return eventually.” When Aset didn’t respond, only glared, he fished a quarter-sized disk out of his pocket. It shimmered in the afternoon sunlight, appearing to be made of smoky quartz, except the slightly iridescent core shone with writhing, golden tendrils. Syris held the coin of At flat on his palm, extending it to Aset.

She eyed it, both wary and curious. “What is it?”

Syris grinned. “A sheut, Auntie. Just a minor one, like Mother has, so it won’t kill you or anything.”

“But it will make you very,
very
special,” Susie added.

“That’s not possible,” Aset whispered. “You can’t just
make
a sheut.”

“Says who?” Susie rotated the orbs in her hands. “We learned how to do tons of ‘impossible’ things over the years.” She grinned. “I could create a whole new galaxy if I wanted to, Auntie. Do you really think creating a lil’ old sheut would trip me up?”

“Stop showing off, Suse,” Syris said, scolding his sister.

Susie rolled her eyes. Heaven help me, but I was the mother of teenage gods. We were all doomed.

“I only said that I
could
create a whole new galaxy,” Susie said, “not that I knew how to do it. And it’s not like creating the sheut was easy
or
that we know what you’ll be able to do with it, so . . .” She shrugged. “It’s pretty cool, though, right?” Her eyes focused on the girl—woman—behind Aset. “And you, Aunt Kat, don’t think we forgot about you.”

“What?” Kat eyed both of my children, clearly suspicious. “Why?”

“In a sense, your mom died so ours could live,” Syris said.

“So
we
could live,” Susie amended. “If she hadn’t done what she did, hadn’t caused that momentary distraction that allowed them to trap Apep, well . . . we owe her, big-time. Which means we owe you.”

Kat stared at them, her expression as guarded as ever but her eyes gleaming. “Are you saying—” She wet her lips with her tongue. “Is there a way to bring my mom back?”

Susie shook her head, sympathy written all over her pale, striking features. “That
is
impossible; what has happened had to happen, and she’s been gone for far too long. Her energy is already dispersed.” She exchanged a glance with her brother, and the corners of his mouth quirked upwards in a near perfect replica of his father’s frequent almost-smile.

“We would give you this, though,” Syris said, reaching into his other pocket and pulling out a second At coin. He held the two otherworldly things out to Kat and Aset, waiting for his aunts to accept the gifts. “All you have to do is touch it. The rest will happen on its own.”

Kat reached out, biting her lip as her fingertips hovered an inch from the waiting sheut. She inhaled deeply, and held her breath. And picked up the disk.

The tiny At creation shimmered, dissolving into her palm. A second later, it was gone.

“That’s it?” She looked from Syris to Susie and back. “It’s done?”

Both twins nodded.

She narrowed her eyes. “So how do I use it, then?”

Syris and Susie exchanged another glance. “You’ll have to figure that part out on your own,” Syris said. “It might take a while for it to fully sync with your ba, but we’re sure you’ll figure out what you can do in no time.”

Kat looked at him dead-on. “So you don’t know. You just offered me this thing and you have no idea what it’ll do to me?”

“Well, it won’t hurt you,” Susie said defensively.

“We can’t know
everything
,” Syris added. “We’re only sixteen.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Aset said, exhaling heavily and grabbing the other At coin. It dissolved in her hand, exactly as Kat’s had.

Hands now free, Syris turned to his sister and relieved her of the soul-containing orbs.

“Daddy,” Susie said, taking a step toward us. “We already gave you your gift, so please don’t feel left out.”

“What—” I looked from my daughter to my bond-mate and back. “What are you talking about?”

“When we removed the damaged sheut from you, Mother, we had to put it somewhere, and Daddy said he would take it.

“No,” I said, barely able to inhale enough air to voice the word. I shook my head vehemently, gripping Marcus’s forearm with one hand and pleading up at him with my eyes. They’d removed the sheut that allowed me to travel through space and time, leaving me with the other, seemingly less useful sheut. “It’s too dangerous. You could get lost, or stuck, or—”